HP: Spirit Talker

The weekend had passed, Monday and Tuesday had passed, and the current day had been surprisingly good. The leaden, rainy sky was generously patched with blue, it was a bit warmer, and a slightly warmer breeze barely moved the branches of the trees. Even the sparse birds made their voices heard.

There was a rather pleasant, slightly sleepy atmosphere in the Great Hall. The French guests, as I said, had almost completely left the islands, leaving only Fleur, the Minet twins, a few adult sorceresses, and a male mage specializing in protective magic.

In the film, the French seem to have spent the entire school year here, but in my reality, Madame Olympia Maxime decided that there was no point in wasting the students' time, since Hogwarts didn't have more than half the teachers needed for the French curriculum.

Although, it had to be admitted, some of the newly formed clubs had pleasantly surprised the guests. Fleur, on the other hand, was taught by the adults who had stayed behind, including the headmistress, who shared her wealth of knowledge personally.

The Durmstrang boys and girls remained at Hogwarts in full force. Everyone was told that such a decision had been made for special training, the nature of which was kept secret. I wasn't interested, because I had enough to do, and suddenly I wasn't enough on my own.

The huge Hogwarts library, the treasures of the Chamber of Secrets, business matters, catching up on the school program, socializing with the locals, and personal training, which the Lan sisters had begun to attend. I also want to see the Room of Requirement. I've already remembered that I need a secretary, and now I'm thinking of hiring one or two students to do the job, but I haven't decided who, although I've thought about it.

But not now. It was a great day, and I hadn't wanted to do anything since the morning — an unusual sleepy calm had settled over the whole castle. And the Potions class had been unusually quiet. The Master Blasters hadn't even destroyed anything. Yes, I think I should tell you more about that. The thing is, after Snape's loss, the position of Potions Master was vacant, but the Great Light was unable to immediately fill the gap in the dam.

So the matter had to be dealt with by the Ministry. A nondescript, ordinary looking wizard of no great power was sent to the school. Slightly phlegmatic, but quick-witted, this man managed to throw something into the cauldron of the new terrorist, which completely dampened the dangerous reaction, stopping the explosions and emissions, as well as the constant injuries to students.

Neville Longbottom had already received a "satisfactory" for his second lesson that morning and was grinning foolishly. However, Stanley Laftover is only at Hogwarts until the Headmaster finds a full professor to fill the position, and Septima Vector, a professor of Numerology, has been assigned the duties of Dean of Slytherin.

She was a strict, correct woman, so the green and silver faculty didn't make a fuss, and the others didn't care about the change. All the students of Hogwarts were pleasantly surprised by the different way of teaching, and also by the fact that the temporary professor did not insult everyone around him, from which his authority literally trampled the unforgettable "Dungeon Horror", well, at least in the eyes of the Gryffindors.

And in general, without Snape and Quidditch competitions, and with new hobbies, the atmosphere at Hogwarts became "warmer". Students from different faculties began to mingle more freely, sitting at different tables, and guests often appeared in mixed groups.

The fencing and dancing lessons given by the members of the Board of Trustees also helped, as they taught the children basic etiquette and manners, so that the Muggleborns and half-breeds began to understand more about the ways and traditions of the magical world, which in turn led to a change in their behavior.

For decades, Hogwarts had not taught the traditions and basics of the local society to the children who came to the magical world, so they tried to reshape the system to fit the usual ways, and they succeeded, with the support of the "enlightened" and "progressive" headmaster, which could not help but infuriate those who lived by the old laws and traditions.

That is, the boiling cauldron of passions did not think to calm down, and the good grandfather just smiled mischievously in his gray beard and just in time threw in some wood to make it boil, bubble and splash all around. And what should he do if he has the foresight to wear an apron?

To be honest, I haven't figured out Tom Riddle's situation yet. There are no living witnesses to the Noseless One's life before he became one in the Muggle world, and Dumbledore doesn't inspire the slightest confidence in me. Is that what the war was about? Riddle claimed he was fighting for magical blood, but at the same time, his coterie spilled a lot of blood and threw curses liberally in all directions.

The Longbottom, Bones, and Potter families were found to have only one child each, and their ancestral manors were razed to the ground. The Longbottoms were left with a substantial stone manor, designed as a mini-fortress, called Longbottom Tower. The Bones had a three-story house called Bones Hall. The Potters had the last cottage, which was destroyed on Halloween. That's not to mention the dozen and a half families that were completely destroyed.

And none of the aforementioned had a "reserve" — that is, side branches somewhere abroad, or squibs, through which it is possible to restore family and blood. Centuries of work, development and breeding were destroyed. If I remember correctly, the Crouches and Amelia Bones will die soon, and I don't know what will happen to her niece, Susan.

There is an old man left of the Pruett family, as there is of the Yaxley, Malsibert, Rowley, Foley families-everywhere there is a man, not always young, without direct heirs, and, oh, yes, there are the Blacks and the Lestrangees. In short, the elite and the light of the nation are heading for the pit, and most of them are hooting and hollering about it. Ring any bells? No?

I'll give you a hint: the land of "Uncle", who frowns from the poster with bushy eyebrows and always needs you. You know who I mean? They went through a similar scenario there, and in the end, yesterday's bandits were at the helm, "saving" the people from usurpers with pagan traditions.