Dark Hogwarts

— Kyle, — I heard a man's voice out of the corner of my mind, followed by a timid knock on the door, — are you awake? Get up, it's time to pack, we have to leave in forty minutes," the speaker began to leave, his boots clattering on the wooden creaking floor.

It was definitely told to me. But is my name Kyle?

Consciousness was gradually clearing up, but part of his own gut was talking about the strangeness of what was happening, causing an unpleasant dissonance in his head.

I was Kyle, but at the same time I wasn't really him. I was called by another name, something else... I was sure of it, but for some reason I couldn't remember exactly how. It was as if memory had been passed through a blender, and now I had to piece together this abstract puzzle of dual memories, one part of which seemed to be covered with some kind of veil.

When I opened my eyes, I recognized my room.

But I had another room! The bed, the desk, the closet, the wallpaper — all this seemed familiar to me, but at the same time it was alien, wrong, wrong!

He got up, walked around the room with a confused look, looked in the mirror of the closet.

This boy is not me! I even have a different color of hair! And facial features! Or am I?

As if on reflex, I went to wash my face and brush my teeth — I would not like to be late for the train. While I was doing my morning routines, I tried to put together all the inconsistencies in the hope of dealing with the rapidly accumulating doubts and contradictions.

I have some kind of split personality, no other way. But how do I even know what it is?

I came out of the bathroom, met my mother, who was standing and chewing, obviously nervous for some reason. She couldn't find a place for herself and didn't seem to know where to put her hands — she kept trying to adjust them to one position, then another.

—Breakfast is ready, pancakes with jam, your favorite," she said hoarsely, hiding her gaze on the floor.

The dissonance was felt in my head again. My mom is already an old woman, and she doesn't look like that at all!

— I'm not hungry, thanks. I'm going to get ready," I replied in an excited voice, to which my mother nodded faintly and hurriedly went down the stairs.

The sight of a strange woman and at the same time my mother awakened a vivid flash of memories.

In them, we were a loving, happy family. We lived an ordinary life, rejoiced in the little things. I remember helping my mother clean up the dusty attic, how we flew a kite, how we rode the rides...

Everything changed a couple of months ago when that letter arrived, and then the girl who accompanied me shopping to Hogwarts School.

My parents found out that I was a magician. They clearly did not want to show a change in their attitude. However, it was noticeable — mom and dad began to unconsciously avoid me, fearing that I was some kind of monster and could harm them. They began to look at me askance, and the neighborhood guys were strictly forbidden to communicate with me by their parents.

I spent the rest of the time before school alone, preparing to leave my native monastery and say goodbye to those who are too afraid of me. Fear prevented them from continuing to love me as before, shackled all warm feelings and did not let me out.

I remember one day, literally a week ago, I threw a tantrum to my parents. I shouted that I did not want to be a wizard, I did not want to go to this ill-fated Hogwarts, but only asked that everything be as before...

Wait, Hogwarts? I know about him! I mean, I remember Hogwarts School, Harry Potter and his adventures — all these are movies and books, a children's fairy tale!

While my body returned to the room and reflexively dressed and put itself in order, my mind was trying to figure out what the hell was going on here.

I remember wizards like a fairy tale, and at the same moment I know that I am a wizard myself. I know that I received a letter about enrolling in Hogwarts, but I also perfectly remember the events associated with this very Hogwarts. What a mess!

I am Kyle Golden, an eleven-year—old British boy from the small town of Slough in Berkshire, but at the same time I feel like someone else - more mature, with a formed personality, with a distinctive character... different.

Maybe I'm a hit man? That would explain everything right away.

A crazy thought, like an echo of my other life, about which only mere crumbs remained in the public domain, suddenly clarified a lot. If I really, like the heroes of fantastic works, was able to land my consciousness in another world and another body, and even, according to the canon of the genre, in a fictional world known to me, then… Is it great?

No, it is certainly very strange and to believe in such a thing as to believe in the existence of Santa Claus ... However, I could not come up with a more rational explanation — I did not consider myself a psycho, after all!

Isn't it September of 'ninety-one... or February of 'two thousand and twenty-three? No, still the first thing: furniture in the house, clothes — everything corresponds to the spirit of the passing millennium.

And this means that this is the year Harry Potter enters the first year! I remember this for sure, because I was born in my previous life just in the year when Harry was starting his seventh year of study, which he did not go to.

It would seem that completely unnecessary information for some reason stuck in my head then and now it has made it very clear where and when I am.

I came out of my mental reasoning, albeit still a little confused, but inspired and, moreover, already dressed and collected. I was about to go downstairs to my parents when I remembered about the suitcase under the bed — you have to take it with you! I took it out, opened it out of curiosity — textbooks on magical disciplines, school uniforms, a set for potions ... a magic wand!

He snatched it out of his things and began to stare at this deadly treasure in fascination. It was only when I looked at this magical device that it finally dawned on me: I was in a real fairy tale. I'm going to a magic school, where I know most of the upcoming events, as well as the characters involved in these events.

I could not even dream of such opportunities in my previous life, and in this one. No one should be destined to know the future with such amazing accuracy, but for some reason I was awarded this award. After all, unlike other memories, the movies watched and the books read were perceived much more vividly and, if necessary, they easily appeared in memory. For what merits do I get such happiness? Although, it didn't matter—there's no point in asking questions that I'm unlikely to get an answer to. I can only accept reality as it is and thank the higher powers—whoever they may be—for such a generous gift.

—Kyle, darling, we have to go," my father shouted from the living room.

"I'm coming, I'm ready," I replied with a smile on my face.

It's time to take a ride on the Hogwarts Express and see Hogwarts from the inside.

 *** 

Outside, the autumn morning felt overcast and chilly. My father loaded my suitcase into the trunk, we got into a brand-new right-hand drive Ford and silently set off on our way to London.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed some red bandages on my parents' hands, but I didn't pay much attention to it - my thoughts were completely different.

My father and mother were not eager to communicate with me or with each other, but I did not insist. And so we drove in silence, broken only by the measured hum of the engine. I stared out the back window at the advertising signs, passersby, other cars and buildings that we passed.

No matter how excited I was about the prospects, I clearly needed time to properly comprehend everything that was happening, sort out two completely different branches of memories and get used to the unified identity of Kyle Golden, so as not to get confused even in my thoughts, as I did at first. That's what I was doing, slowly accepting a new reality for myself.

Surprisingly, after traveling more than half the way in about forty minutes, we stood in traffic for the same amount of time, although we left at an incredibly early hour. All this time, my father was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, faintly cursing other drivers and was clearly overly afraid of being late.

However, the traffic jam ended, and we successfully arrived at the station parking lot. This is where the oddities began, which I just couldn't help but notice.

It's worth starting with the fact that while we were walking, we did not meet any random passers-by on the station square. Once we saw parents who accompanied a child with a suitcase similar to mine and had the same red bandage on their right arm as my mom and dad. They stood aside from the building and diligently explained something to their frightened son.

The second oddity was the main display boards that displayed train schedules. Somehow, all the positions in them were canceled or moved forward a few hours. In fact, the station was not functioning at the time of our arrival.

But the strangest and most frightening thing was the people in military uniforms standing here and there or patrolling the building. They were all carrying automatic weapons and still wearing the same red armbands.

My parents looked at each other warily and timidly moved deeper into the station, to the platform, and I followed them just as timidly. The military cast suspicious glances at us a couple of times, but did not approach, remaining at their posts.

As it turned out, three soldiers were also standing at the entrance to the platform, and one of them waved us to stop, which we did.

He approached his parents, glanced at me briefly and said:

— Train ticket, please.

— Yes, yes, now, just a second, — the mother fumbled in her own bag, unnecessarily nervously examining its contents, until finally she took out the required ticket.

 The soldier read the contents and put the ticket in his pocket. — Say goodbye here, the boy will go on alone.

It was as strange as possible. In my memories, there were not even close to any military, patrols and other things. I looked questioningly at my parents, but they did not move from their place and did not say anything, frozen in frightened statues.

—Um... bye, Mom, bye, Dad,— I said uncertainly.

"Yes... you... that.".. Study well there, okay? My father tried to find the words.

My mother tried to come closer to me, but each time she pulled herself back, only saying in a hollow voice:

— Goodbye, Kyle.

Without saying a word, they simultaneously turned to the exit and hurried out of the station, looking around hungrily.

I looked at their backs uncomprehendingly, then at the military man. He understood my look in his own way:

— You go that way, go straight until you find yourself between columns nine and ten, then pass through the wall of the tenth column and get on the train.

—Thank you, mister," I replied in confusion, grabbed the handle of the suitcase and went to the platform.

Three other teenagers were walking in front of me, but they passed through the wall before I could get a closer look at them. There was someone walking behind me, too, but I didn't look back all the time, thinking it would look stupid.

And so I finally got to the right columns. On the surface, they seemed quite ordinary and no different from dozens of others. There was silence around — there were no trains, as well as other people.

Was it necessary to take overclocking? I didn't have a cart like Harry Potter, so if I failed, my forehead would be the first to suffer.

He went to the right wall, carefully tried to touch the stone surface. As the hand approached, she seemed to be sucked inside, so I abruptly pulled her away.

The stranger walking behind me was approaching, and I didn't want to appear scared or helpless in front of him. Gathering my courage, I took a fast pace, rolling the suitcase behind me and covering my forehead with my other hand just in case. Without stopping, I passed through this magical barrier, feeling almost nothing.

The magic platform greeted me with numerous voices, beeps and other background noise of a crowded place.

The Hogwarts Express train immediately caught my eye — a large massive steam locomotive of black and scarlet colors was admired by its very appearance, gave a sense of fabulousness and magic.

— Freshmen, you are in cars ten and eleven! Freshmen! A voice shouted in the distance, giving me a useful clue.

I walked slowly towards the rear of the train, where the cars I was looking for were located, looking at wizards and witches with all my eyes along the way, trying to recognize familiar faces from the movies. Or will they look different here?

Parents hugged their children and gave final instructions. Several times I saw a mother crying while seeing off her child. Not just sheds a couple of tears, but naturally sobs — it seemed strange to me and even a little suspicious.

Is this normal? Still, this is not such a reason for such sobs — well, the child goes to magic school, so he will come back for Christmas, there is nothing critical about this. And why didn't Kyle's parents, that is, me, feel at least approximately the same way? Were they really that callous?

While I was thinking, I went to the tenth carriage and saw the first familiar faces from the canon — the Malfoy family was escorting their son Draco on the way. They all looked like copies of the actors who played them. The resemblance was simply amazing in its accuracy—it was like I was on a movie set.

Looking at them more closely, I noticed that Lucius Malfoy did not look so presentable. According to my ideas, an arrogant aristocratic wizard should have looked a little different. His cane was missing, and his robe was similar to the robes of the other wizards around — I didn't see any exquisite patterns on it, or rich decoration with any golden threads.

It was noticeable that he was diligently keeping his own emotions under control, unlike Draco's mother — I think her name was Narcissa. She hugged her son tightly, whispered something in his ear and was clearly crying, even if she hid it from other people's eyes.

Draco himself stood frowning and collected, steadfastly endured his mother's anxiety and periodically looked at his father.

In general, at first glance, the Malfoys seemed to me to be the most ordinary people, although I imagined them quite differently — more closed, more arrogant.

I didn't want to attract too much attention with my curiosity, so I quickly took my eyes off their family and climbed the stairs into the tenth car, dragging a heavy suitcase behind me.

It's time to choose which compartment to get into. Maybe Harry Potter was already sitting here somewhere, or maybe he's still on his way. At least I didn't notice the Weasleys on the platform, and their family, thanks to the color of their hair, should have attracted my attention from afar.

Having decided not to worry about this — I will still have time to get to know everyone at school — I simply settled into the first compartment I came across, fortunately it was empty.

I threw my suitcase on a shelf, got comfortable and began to watch the wizards scurrying around the platform.

I couldn't believe that I was going to Hogwarts School of Magic and would study there. With the knowledge of the canon, I could achieve amazing results if I play my cards correctly and, most importantly, on time.

But will this canon be the way I know it? This thought made me think hard. After all, even during these few hours, I noticed a lot of oddities — the behavior of parents, people in military uniforms, an empty train station, crying mothers…

What if it's all connected somehow? What if in the real world, unlike what is shown in movies and books, there are some nuances that are unfamiliar to me? We need to get to know them as soon as possible, find out the reasons for the oddities we saw, and find out more information.

Maybe I should read some school books on the way? Although, it is unlikely that the required answers will be found there, and it is not quite right for an eleven—year-old wizard to read a book during a trip to a magic school, rather than get acquainted with future classmates with whom you can share your impressions and make your first acquaintances.

I can be mistaken for some kind of bookworm almost worse than Hermione, and at that age, as for me, the first impression of the person with whom you will study together for seven years is very important. Malfoy from the canon, I'm sure, will readily confirm my words.

As if responding to the call of my thoughts, Hermione Granger herself appeared on the platform, dragging an excessively heavy suitcase to the vestibule of my carriage. In appearance, she was an exact copy of the children's version of Emma Watson — adjusted for her hairstyle, of course.

If there was anyone I wanted to talk to most among the eleven-year-olds, it was her. I'm sure she's already read everything she can about the magical world and will answer my accumulated questions without any problems.

I got out of the compartment and headed for the exit.

— Let me help you? I asked Hermione's back at the moment when she was struggling to lift the suitcase upstairs.

Out of breath, red-cheeked and disheveled, she turned to face me and answered with relief:

— I will… I really appreciate it, huh.

Together, we still coped with the task, although I will not say that it was easy for me — Kyle's body clearly neglected sports or at least active activity.

— My name is Kyle, — I held out my hand to the girl, smiling, after I helped with the suitcase. That's how kids get to know each other, right?

—Hermione, nice to meet you and thank you for your help," she replied to the handshake.

— It's nothing. What do you have there that's so heavy? The London Library section?

She giggled.:

— No, well, there are books there too, but not from the library, but from the bookstore in Diagon Alley.

Talking, we reached my compartment, but decided for now to leave her suitcase at the foot, leaning it against the wall under the table. The conversation continued by itself:

— I have books too, but they obviously weigh four times less than yours!

— It's just that in the store where I bought a suitcase, the seller offered me a very tempting deal — to take an enchanted, but defective one for the cost of the usual one. Something happened to him that the expansion of space by five times remained there, but the proportionate weight reduction was gone," Hermione said, feeling a little shy at the end.

I laughed.:

— So you voluntarily took on this burden to take more books to school?

— Don't laugh! There are only the most necessary copies about the magical world, really!

"But you know there's a library at Hogwarts, right?" Where all your extracurricular books are most likely present.

— Actually, the woman who accompanied me hinted at some difficulties with this library, so I decided to take more books.

Difficulties with the library? Has Hermione been fooled?

— Okay, but I only took school textbooks. I think I can find everything else at Hogwarts, regardless of any "difficulties", — I teased the girl, to which she snorted and replied:

— Let's see.

We sat in silence for a while, looking out the window. I decided to dispel the awkwardness and start a new conversation in the right direction.

"Hey, Hermione, aren't you a Muggle—born?"

—Well, yes," she replied a little awkwardly, "and you?"

— Yes, me too. I found out that I was a wizard as soon as the letter of enrollment arrived.

Hermione's eyes lit up:

— Really? I knew from an early age that I was a sorceress. As strange things began to happen, my parents told me that I had a magical gift.

I was confused:

— Wait, how did your parents figure out what was going on? Are they wizards too?

—No,— she replied nonchalantly, "ordinary Muggles, that is, people. It's just that it's obvious that if there's obvious magic going on next to a child, then he's a wizard.

"But how did your parents know about the existence of magic?"

The girl looked at me like I was an idiot. What did I ask wrong?!

— What do you mean, from where? Everyone knows that.

"But don't wizards have a Statute of Secrecy?"

— Are you talking about that Statute that was torn up forty years ago?

After the girl's confident words, everything got mixed up in her head. I dug into Kyle's memories, even found snippets of conversations about wizards. But I thought it was all a child's fantasy! Well, you know how children communicate about fairy-tale creatures and fictional friends...

— Apparently, yes ... listen, Hermione, they just didn't tell me anything about the magical world before receiving the letter, and what I heard myself, I didn't perceive as the truth, I thought it was fiction, like the same Easter bunny or the tooth fairy. Could you help me and tell me about this Statute and how it was broken?

Hermione looked at me with pity because of my ignorance, after which she gathered herself and even straightened up, apparently imagining herself a kind mentor:

— Okay, so listen up. Fifty years ago, Muggles started World War II, in which millions of people died and entire cities were destroyed every month. Years passed, and the war did not end, and then two wizards from Germany and Great Britain decided to prevent people from committing these atrocities. They gathered supporters and came out of the shadow in which the magical world had been inhabited for many centuries. The evil Muggles did not want to stop the bloodshed, but the wizards were too strong, and Muggle weapons were powerless against magic. In a few months, those two wizards were able to end the terrible war, and the dissenting Muggles who wanted to continue fighting were forced to flee. Since then, these two wizards have been making sure that Muggles don't start wars and everyone lives in peace," she broke off, "well, something like that.

Hermione was obviously proud of her omniscience and stuck it out, which really could be negatively perceived by other children. It's good that I'm mature enough to ignore it. Information was more important than my feelings at the moment.

— Hermione… And what were the names of those two wizards? I asked, holding my breath.

— You don't know that either?! The first wizard's name was Gellert Grindelwald, who is now the Chancellor of Germany. And the second wizard, and at the same time the current headmaster of Hogwarts school is Albus Dumbledore. Let it be known to you that they are considered the greatest wizards of our time.

My brain is naturally jammed because of the shocking new information. Now one thing has become clear — this is definitely not the Harry Potter I know.

"So that's why there were military personnel at the station..." I said softly, but Hermione heard me.:

— Military? Well, yes, they protect Muggle-born wizards who get to the Hogwarts Express, and other magicians who chose the path to the train through King's Cross," she replied confidently.

— And who do we need to be protected from? I asked uncomprehendingly.

— How from whom? From American spies, of course!

That's it, out. After these words, my built-up picture of the world finally collapsed. No longer surprised by anything, I continued to question such a sociable Hermione:

"Can you please tell me why the Americans would send spies after Muggle—born wizards?" It's just that you talk so interestingly, and I'm learning so many new things! I feigned enthusiasm.

Hermione was clearly embarrassed, but appreciated the compliment to her, smiling slightly.

The train started, but no one came into our compartment, so we had to go together. All the better, I can learn more information from this know-it-all without unnecessary ears.

— No problem, I like to share knowledge with others. The fact is that after the Statute of Secrecy was broken, the magicians of other states had no choice but to declare their existence. Someone followed the example of Germany and Great Britain and began to monitor the intentions of the Muggles of their country, someone even after detection kept their distance from the world of simpletons… The American magicians did the worst of all — they began to serve the Muggles' intentions to continue the war by agreeing to become their weapon. Thus, all those evil Muggles who fought in Europe eventually fled to America to rebuild their course of destruction there. While Europe was rebuilding cities and coping with the consequences of the war, the then United States viciously seized the territories of Canada, Mexico, Central and South America, and most of the islands nearby… And only Dumbledore and Grindelwald, with the support of wizards from other countries, restrain their thirst to start a Third World War with further aggressive expansion. You know what expansion is, don't you, Kyle?

— Eh? Yes, I know, thanks, Hermione.

My head was just swollen with new, shocking information. Wizards do not live in the shadows, but have revealed their existence... They control entire countries, they are waging an analog of the Cold War with the pro-Muggle America...

I wonder what form of government wizards use in the countries where they seized power? Somehow, I'm not sure that they will get carried away with the ideas of the republic, democracy and liberalism. With such powers and the natural division of society into magicians and Muggles.

However, for me, another question remains paramount — where did I manage to get to and what awaits me here? Some kind of alternative reality, no other way, which means that you need to be ready for everything here, up to the most incredible scenarios.

 ***

We drove all the way talking to Hermione. After receiving a horse's dose of information from the girl, I changed the subject to talk about all sorts of trifles. That's how I found out that she lives in Hampstead, London, and wants to enroll in Gryffindor only because Dumbledore studied there.

After a few hours of incessant chatter, I was mentally tired and would not mind being in silence, but who asked me? Hermione clearly saw in me the potential friend she needed so much, and therefore she was in a hurry to tell me everything, everything, everything and even a little more.

The girl's obsession at some moments reached the point of absurdity - I felt like I was being interrogated by an investigator, or at an incessant lecture from a young sorceress. And I didn't want to interrupt her — nevertheless, she helped me a lot with her answers, and I didn't want to offend and even more so quarrel with such a potentially useful classmate.

So all I had to do was stand firm, keep up the conversation and wait for the damn train to finally reach its destination.

When an undergraduate student walked down the corridor of the carriage with an announcement of his imminent arrival and instructions to leave his suitcases on the train, I breathed a sigh of relief. First he went out, giving Hermione the opportunity to change Muggle clothes for a robe, and then he changed himself.

When the train slowed down, it was already dusk outside the window. If it weren't for the magical lamps placed on the Hogsmeade platform, there would be no visibility at all. And so, after the final stop, the students got off the train, gathered in groups and headed along the path to the magic carriages. Some girl from senior years looked in our direction before going to the carriages, and on her face I saw an expression of some kind of pity, or sadness. Although, to be fair, I probably imagined it because of the dim lighting.

The freshmen were the only ones who didn't know where to go until a huge shaggy giant shouted at the entire platform:

— Freshmen! Everyone over here! Come up to me, freshmen-and!

Some of the children were clearly scared at the sight of the giant, but seeing that he did not seem to be going to eat those brave souls who approached first, they followed the others.

— Is everyone here? One, two, three. Aw, okay," he waved a huge hand, "I forgot how many of you there should be anyway. Follow me.

Hagrid walked heavily towards the woods, where there was a path to the lake, and the freshmen followed him. I noticed Harry Potter in the company of Ron Weasley, and for some reason Harry was trembling all over at the sight of the giant. They should know each other, shouldn't they?

Hermione and I stayed together and watched each other, not letting them fall. As it turned out, it was not in vain — because of the darkness and slippery mud, some boy plopped down straight on the ground, which is why he got dirty from head to toe.

Soon we finally reached the lake, on the shore of which there were about a dozen wooden boats, and in the distance we could see a majestic, stunning castle. God, how beautiful it was!

— Get four people into the boat! Hagrid was the first to sit in the center, taking all four seats at once. — And I'll give you one piece of advice — hold on to the sides, and hold on tight.

The children looked at the giant uncomprehendingly, but he didn't say anything more. We sat down on the boats, and Hermione and I were joined by two more boys.

"I'm Seamus, and this is Dean." What's your name? — the obvious Irishman asked us, introducing his black companion as well.

— Hermione Granger, and this is…

—Kyle, Kyle Golden," I interrupted Hermione, who decided to almost take over my patronage, considering me to be some kind of ward of her own. Oh, no, Hermione, that's not going to work. — How does it feel? Meanwhile, I asked the guys.

"I don't have the words," Dean answered me, staring at the castle with all his eyes.

"Just 'Wow!'" Seamus echoed his response.

When everyone was seated in their seats, and the boy, smeared in mud, who turned out to be the same Neville Longbottom, was finally able to get on one of the boats, the vessels magically slowly floated across the lake.

I remembered the giant's strange words and preferred to follow his advice: I firmly grabbed the side of the boat with one hand and the bench with the other. I also spread my legs and rested them on the bottom of the vessel, just in case.

"Guys," I said to my fellow travelers, "I would recommend that you do as the giant advised. He didn't just say that.

The guys shrugged their shoulders and rather for form's sake mirrored my hand position.

I looked at Hermione with a searching look. She snorted, but still held on even more tightly than the boys did.

Half the way across the lake was passed in silence — only the whispers of excited freshmen could be heard, and the creaking of one of the wooden dishes — it was Hagrid trying to comfortably fit his giant body on a tiny bench.

Suddenly, all the boats began to shake and shake. The children screamed, trying to keep from falling into the water. I held on tight, so I wasn't in danger of falling overboard, but black Dean almost pulled off a similar trick, miraculously managing to redirect his own mass back into the boat at the last moment, hitting his back painfully on the bench.

On other boats, a similar situation occurred, and only Hagrid remained calm — it seemed that the shaking did not bother him in any way at all.

At some point, a boy fell out of one of the boats screaming, splashing into the water. As soon as this happened, the shaking stopped instantly, as if it had never happened.

The boats continued to move away, so that when the boy surfaced, they were no longer within his reach.

—Mister, there's a boy down there," Hermione shouted to the giant, "we need to go back for him."

—I told you to hold on tight," Hagrid muttered, turning around, "it's your own fault," he said finally, after which he turned back and fell silent.

— Nothing! — the boy who fell out shouted. — Ya. Khe. I can swim, the water is not even particularly cold! I'll get to the shore, just wait for me!

The boy began to actively follow the boats, although he was significantly inferior to them in speed.

"I hope he can swim and won't freeze,— said Hermione, worried.

I wanted to support her:

— Yes, everything will be fine with him…

Suddenly, a loud splash was heard, and in place of the boy who had just swam, there was the carcass of a giant squid that unnaturally emerged from the water with tentacles forward.

Out of the corner of my eye, I managed to notice a human leg in trousers and a boot sticking out between the tentacles, which followed the body into the mouth of the monster.

After making a dash out of the water, the squid quickly began to sink back into its abyss, looking at us one last time with its tiny beady eyes.

Only a few seconds had passed, and nothing but circles on the water reminded of the existence of the boy who had fallen into the water less than a minute ago.

The children, stunned by shock, stared at the water surface of the lake, unable to utter a word.

— Okay... — I just finished my sentence in a barely audible voice, looking devastated at the place where my classmate had just been devoured.

"It's your own fault, yes," Hagrid repeated dispassionately.

The boats were approaching the cave. The castle lights of Hogwarts were burning brightly. A new academic year was beginning.

 ***

POV Harry Potter.

July 31, 1991.

Harry hadn't counted on a birthday party. It was already a good thing that Uncle Vernon hadn't given him some kind of leaky sock as a mockery, as he had done a year earlier.

Harry already had the best gift in the world — six days ago he found out that he was a wizard! That starting in September he will go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!

And he won't have to go to a high school with a bad reputation, to this gloomy High Cameron. And there will be no need to wear Dudley's old school uniform, which Aunt Petunia decided to repaint in gray, which made it look like the clothes of a dead man who had just been dug out of the tomb.

Uncle Vernon, after the letter Harry received, was not himself — unnecessarily nervous, but at the same time not snapping at his nephew for any trifle, which was as suspicious as possible.

And even though the Dursley family avoided any mention of magic in principle and wizards in particular in their house, Harry's suspicions had been aroused for a long time.

It all started with the incredible things that happened to him — then his hair would grow back overnight after a haircut, then he would somehow end up on the roof of the school after escaping from Dudley, then the glass would disappear in the zoo… Sometimes he managed to watch TV or hear teachers talking about wizards, but there was too little information to draw the appropriate conclusions.

And about a month ago, he was looking for Dudley's broken toys in the attic, having managed to get there unnoticed, and found in a separate box three red bandages with a special patterned symbol in the middle.

Harry had already seen such bandages on other people's hands — they were looked at by passers-by and avoided in every possible way. But how did the Dursleys get such bandages?

The answer to all questions and suspicions came with a letter from Hogwarts. The Dursleys had to tell about everything they knew: about the magical world, about the real death of his parents, about how they were given him in infancy and punished to take care of what they "diligently" and "efficiently" performed, even though they hated everything magical.

The letter also said that an escort would soon come to him, to Harry, who would take him shopping to school. After this news, the Dursleys changed, took out those red armbands from the attic, began to burden Harry with less business, and generally avoided him in every possible way.

Every one of these six days, everyone was waiting for a wizard to come to their house. And every day he was still gone. Harry even became afraid that they had simply forgotten about him, bothering the already irritated Dursleys with questions of a magical nature.

Well, on this festive day for Harry, the Dursley family dined with him in full in the kitchen. Uncle Vernon took time off from work, not risking leaving his own family unattended, so he stayed at home all day, becoming increasingly furious because of the uncertainty with the escort.

When there was a loud knock on their door, everyone jumped at once.

"He's probably the one who showed up. Who else would knock like that? Aunt Petunia said.

— Dudley, go to your room, Petunia, put on a blindfold, and you, boy," he looked at him menacingly, then looked away, "you, Harry, will come with me," Uncle Vernon stood up heavily, shook off the crumbs from his lunch and headed towards the front door, putting on a red cloth on the right hand.

The knock was repeated, and Vernon hurried over and timidly answered:

— I'm coming, I'm coming, now.

When the door opened, Harry was confronted by the biggest man he had ever seen. The giant had to bend down a lot to squeeze through the doorway, and Uncle Vernon stepped back in fear, almost tripping over a shoe cabinet.

— Well, — the giant scratched his shaggy head, — hello. Harry, is that you? — he noticed the boy, leaning towards him and looking at him curiously.

—Yes, sir, I'm Harry Potter," Harry replied shyly.

— Oh, ho, I remember you still like this-mustachioed, — he showed with two fingers the size of a tiny baby, which an ordinary person would never have been able to do. "My name is Hagrid, I am the forester and keeper of the keys of Hogwarts, and also, with Dumbledore's instructions, your escort," he held out his hand, which Harry shook by the finger.

— Well, how did you live here, Harry? Hagrid asked him, ignoring Uncle Vernon's hushed expression. "You've been waiting for years to finally get into Hogwarts, haven't you?"

—Um, no, sir, I only found out about Hogwarts from a letter, quite recently," Harry replied, hesitating a little.

— How is that? Any wizard knows about Hogwarts from an early age — there is no better school of magic in the whole world! The giant replied with conviction.

— So, sir, I also found out about being a wizard at the same time…

- what? How? Hagrid turned purple. — Dursley! He looked at Uncle Vernon, who had turned white. — What do you mean?! So that Harry Potter doesn't know that he's a wizard? Did he even know about his parents? And about who he is to the magical world?!

Hagrid advanced menacingly on Vernon as he babbled:

— You see, Mr. Hagrid, when they gave him into our care, they didn't give us any orders about it.… So we thought, why would he know about this ahead of time? What if he talks at school and someone unfriendly finds out about him? You know, anything can happen.

Hagrid stopped and thought about it:

"Hmm... maybe you're right, Dursley, but it's not the point of keeping a wizard ignorant of himself. He's not an ordinary Muggle-born, for whom this is the norm. Well, look at me," he waved a huge fist, "you'll do something like that again, and you won't get any, no matter what," Hagrid pointed a sausage finger at the red cloth, "protective bandages.

The degree of tension decreased, and Harry saw Aunt Petunia peeping from the kitchen, afraid to show herself in the giant's eyes.

Uncle Vernon meanwhile wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked ingratiatingly:

"So, Mr. Hagrid, are you taking him away, so to speak?" Well, shopping for his school, this one, the enchantress.

— Poke, yes, — Hagrid scratched his thick hair again, — come on, Harry, I'll show you the magical world at least, but I'll tell you what you want.

"All right, sir,— Harry nodded happily, "I'm ready to move out."

— Yes, it's good… Did you take this letter? And then there's a list of things that we need to buy, yes.

Harry remembered that he had left the letter in the closet under his pillow when he read it again at night:

— I'll get it now! — Harry quickly took the letter and returned.

—Yeah, well, everything seems to be ready,— said Hagrid thoughtfully. — And why did you leave this letter in the closet? He asked Harry.

—Well,— Harry hesitated, choosing his words, "when I was waiting for you, I couldn't sleep, so I reread it, I thought maybe I'd find some clue or something.

— Ah, well, I see then. Wait, are you sleeping in the closet?

— Well, yes, — Harry replied uncomprehendingly, — I sleep, I live, I do my homework. And what?

Hagrid clenched his teeth and roared:

— Dursley!!! He walked up to Uncle Vernon and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him into the wall of the house. "Are you saying that Harry Potter lives in a closet?! Harry Potter?!

Uncle Vernon was panting and trying to say something, but he couldn't. Then he looked at Hagrid hungrily and nodded in a small, frightened way.

Harry saw Dudley on the second floor, standing silently and watching his father squirm in the giant's steel grip.

— Harry Potter! Hagrid grabbed Uncle Vernon's arm with his other big hand. — The hero of Magical Britain! He yanked her violently to the side, causing her to detach from her uncle's body with a bang.

Harry heard a sob from the kitchen and, shocked, stared at the blood flowing profusely from Uncle Vernon's shoulder, at the arm thrown aside, which was twitching viciously on the rapidly reddening floor due to convulsions.

"How much blood, it turns out, is in the human body," he thought then, and this thought haunted Harry for many weeks.

Meanwhile, Hagrid continued:

— Lily and James' son! Hagrid was now holding his uncle in a different grip, which allowed him to tear off his other arm as well. — The winner! The giant threw her away too, clutching her neck with both hands. —The Dark Lord!!! He clenched his huge hands with force, tearing off Uncle Vernon's head. She flew so hard that she hit the ceiling, leaving a bloody blot on it, and flew somewhere towards the second floor, where Dudley was standing.

A dead body with three holes incompatible with life fell with a thud onto the wooden paving stones of the hallway. The gaps between the squares were instantly filled with blood rapidly flowing out of my uncle's body. Aunt Petunia was hysterical from the kitchen.

Hagrid moved away from the body, took out his umbrella and cleaned himself of numerous traces of blood with a spell. He looked at Harry, who was standing in a daze, and said as if nothing had happened:

— Well, Harry, we'll go with you, it's listed in Diagon Alley.