Chapter 11 - 11

"GRYFFINDOR!"

McGonagall took off the hat from her, and Hermione went to her new table. Thoughtful, seemingly joyful, but apparently not. I did not particularly look for the rest, only noticing some interesting children about whom I do not know anything at all. Take Greengrass, for example. A doll girl, absurdly perfect in appearance and with great boredom on her face. About her, in the story of Potter, we know only that she exists, and this is already a lot, given the number of children and teenagers around, which I have not even heard, read, or seen.​​

"Knight, Maximilian."

Hearing my name, I walked over to the stool, turned around, and sat down. McGonagall immediately dropped the hat on my head.

"Hmm ... Curious ... And where should I send you?"

"Definitely not Slytherin," I said inwardly, turning to the hat.

"Why not? In Slytherin, you can achieve greatness."

"Too many problems."

"Do not like difficulties?"

"Everything should be in moderation."

"Well, you do not attach due importance to friendship, as well as you do not possess due brightness and unusual personality, and therefore ..."

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat screamed to the whole room, and McGonagall immediately took it off me.

I went to an empty seat at the table to thunderous applause from the students of my new house. The students of my house were happy, congratulated, someone clapped on the shoulder. Too noisy, but I think I can handle it.

"I am happy that we got to the same house," Hermione, sitting next to me, addressed me.

"Me too," nodded in response, and we began to look at further distribution.

Malfoy, of course, got on Slytherin, and instantly, the hat did not even touch his head. When Potter was summoned, everyone immediately fell silent, but every now and then, questions came from everywhere: "Potter? The same Harry Potter? " And the boy did not at all look like a celebrity in terms of his physical condition. A small, shy child, not accustomed to neatness, black hair sticking out in different directions - a dashing and silly look. And, of course, bicycle glasses and a scar on his forehead, barely covered with a bang. And, of course, he was sent to our house. It was then that the students around literally exploded with delight in all its manifestations. It was even hard for me to sit still.

When all the students were assigned, Dumbledore decided to keep his word. He congratulated everyone on their admission and said the very four words, the meaning of which has escaped the understanding of the fans of the universe for many years. Now they will torment me too because I did not see much sense, but the slight tension that hovered around the hall was gone as if there was nothing.

When Dumbledore sat back down in his throne-like chair, various dishes appeared on the tables in an instant, for all tastes. Fried, and boiled, and stew. Chops, sausages, baked chicken, pork ribs ... Or maybe not pork. Baked-boiled potatoes, salads, in general, here you could really find everything both for a hearty dinner and for a light snack.

One of the many Weasleys, Ron, immediately began to eat as if he had come from a hungry land. Not so piggy, of course, but I was still glad I didn't sit too close to him. This is perhaps the only thing that annoyed me. And so, I sat quietly, ate, watched the people around. Someone shared stories related to their origins. A chubby, humble boy, who I thought was Neville, told the story of his first magical release. On that fine, joyful day for the whole family, Neville's uncle wanted to once again provoke a magical release from the boy. For this, he hung him upside-down through the window, holding one of them. Uncle got distracted and released Neville. If he really was a squib, then this would be the last day of his, not the best life, but like a rubber ball, he jumped down the street. A nightmare, frankly.

Basically, no one asked me about anything. The feast ended with all the food and plates disappearing and Dumbledore getting up from his chair to start another speech. He told about the forbidden corridor, the list of forbidden things, that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden. Then, with a slight movement of his magic wand, he created the illusion of words - the Hogwarts anthem, and everyone sang it, each in his own way. Although not all - some just opened their mouths.

After this speech, the prefects of the houses took us to the drawing rooms. Our prefect, Percy Weasley, looked grave and proud and peering at everyone condescending.

The living room path ran along corridors, stairs, along the most real square shaft of the central tower, where staircases sometimes changing their direction could lead you to almost any floor of the castle, including the dungeons. I would call this place a transport hub. It is this association that comes to mind. There was also an incredible number of living portraits and tapestries of all sizes. They were hung out with a kind of mosaic and, in many places, covered the walls with a continuous layer, despite the difference in size from each other.

On the way, we met Peeves, a local poltergeist. We didn't manage to avoid the dubious pleasure and not get to know him. Neither Percy's threats to deal with him personally or to call the Bloody Baron had an effect. This ghostly bully almost beat someone with crutches. We need to find a couple of spells against this follower of chaos.

Already in the living room itself, the exit to which was hiding the Fat Lady's portrait, Percy read us his speech about the house, how cool we are, what a fantastic House, how great Dumbledore, and in general! I happily ignored it. Then we were taken to the bedrooms - the boys to one wing, the girls to the other.

Ron, Harry, Neville, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan were brought into the room with me. We quickly dispersed to the beds and, to be honest, I don't really like the idea of a shared life. Although this is not even a hostel - a barracks. There are little space, a personal bed, and a chest - that's all. Well, okay, I'll think of something over time.

While getting ready for bed and changing clothes, we shared some impressions of Hogwarts. Before going to bed, I went to the shower room shared by the men's wing. I have developed the habit of taking a shower in the morning and evening. I will need to follow this schedule. When I returned to the room, everyone had already seen what is being said, the tenth dream. And I have to go sleep too ...