The Christmas holidays went wonderfully. No unaccounted basilisk was crawling around the school, everything was peaceful, and I went home. I celebrated Christmas with my parents, took my intermediate exams at regular school, and we went to France to ski in the mountains. I visited Griphook and gave him half of the Basilisk's hide to sell. The bank immediately bought some pieces, and for the other parts Griphook promised to find the most profitable buyer. Now I'm rich. I immediately converted some of the money to pounds and gave it to my parents, who were just planning to take out a loan to expand the clinic — now we can do without it.
Damn, I didn't think about taxes! A pile of money falling out of nowhere onto dentists — they'll definitely accuse us of financial fraud. Dad and I discussed everything and contacted a lawyer that Aunt Susan had recommended to us back in first year. We were lucky, he worked for both worlds. Howard Goldstein sorted out this problem in record time, even before my return to Hogwarts. And the best part, he managed without confundus charms — there are loopholes in the laws that allow conducting business simultaneously in both Englands, magical and ordinary.
You can never have too much money, I thought it would be worth looking to see if there are corporations here that became successful in my time. Unfortunately, I wasn't interested in my past life about which stocks were profitable to buy when. Well, who knew it would come in handy? I remember some separate things. Intel, Samsung, Coca-Cola... I discovered an interesting thing. Jobs and Gates here are partners. And their company is called... Applesoft! Haha, well imagine that... Although, if they achieved success separately in that world, probably together won't be worse either.
Returning to school, I saw on the bulletin board that a dueling club was opening. The host — Lockhart. Either the theater club isn't enough for him, or the success of the Christmas play inspired him so much that he wanted to expand his sphere of activity.
...and why is Professor Snape shouting "Expelliarmus" so loudly? Usually he casts spells nonverbally easily. Probably he still wants the children to master it too. Lockhart flies beautifully across the entire hall. Yes, some wizards, apparently, are much stronger than people without magic. An ordinary person after such a flight would never get up as if nothing happened. And this one is still running around, pairing up students.
I wanted to fight with Neville, but Snape intervened and broke up our pair. Neville was paired with Justin — also not bad, and I got Millicent. Well, and Harry was paired by Snape with Malfoy. He doesn't take care of his godson. Where Harry is, anything can happen.
I decided not to complicate things, cast "Expelliarmus-Incarcerous" on Millicent and began watching the Potter-Malfoy pair. Harry and I trained quite well this year, he will definitely be a very strong wizard in the future, his spells are already an order of magnitude more powerful than mine. The main thing is that he doesn't get himself killed on the way to that future. But there somehow wasn't an occasion to study snake destruction charms. I hope he'll think to simply put it to sleep. He and I have already discussed the topic that wizards don't like Parseltongue.
Alas, he didn't think of it. Malfoy summons a snake, Lockhart tosses it toward Justin, Harry hisses, everyone recoils. No basilisk is crawling around the school, no one is being petrified, so they remember not Slytherin, but Voldemort. Here we go. You-Know-Who spoke Parseltongue and became a Dark Lord, Potter speaks it — so he's the next dark lord.
Rest in peace, my one hundred forty-third attempt to stay in the shadows. They'll hound the child... I climb onto the armor, I mean the dueling platform, cast Sonorus on myself and begin addressing the hall:
"Gentlemen, you've forgotten the most important thing! You-Know-Who didn't just speak Parseltongue. He was also English! And this means every Englishman is a potential Dark Lord! Beware of your dormitory neighbors — they could easily turn to the dark side. After all, they're also English — just like Volde..." — I continue opening my mouth silently. Well, what bastard cast Silencio on me?
"Get down from the platform, Miss Granger," — ah, that bastard is now speaking to me in an icy Snape voice.
I cast a nonverbal Finite on myself. I don't understand why most wizards cast spells aloud, mentally it's not a bit more difficult.
"Professor, but I'm right!"
"Merlin, well who managed to disenchant you? Twenty points from whoever removed the Silencio from Miss Granger," — he says into the void. Twenty points are dutifully deducted from Hufflepuff.
"Professor, they'll hound Harry! And as far as I understand, none of the teachers will do anything. Probably it's considered character building, but that's complete rubbish!"
"Who are you to allow yourself to criticize professors? Another minus twenty points from Hufflepuff."
"Even a hundred twenty! Put yourself in his place! You're alone, everyone's against you, and no one, no one will help. Although adults can do this. Moreover, it's their direct obligation! This is how some become Dark wizards! Because they were simply driven to it!"
I got so fired up because I remember what was happening in the book, although nothing terrible has happened to Harry here yet. Snape's face turned to stone.
"As you wish, Miss Granger," — he says in an absolutely emotionless voice, — "minus one hundred twenty points from Hufflepuff, for lack of restraint," — sharply turns and leaves.
I completely forgot — Snape was in his place. He also needed help from adults, but no one helped him either. But this doesn't add sympathy for Harry in him, only anger.
The loss of a whole hundred sixty points in five minutes couldn't go unnoticed, even for our house. But after clarifying all the circumstances, Professor Sprout completely approved of me and even added twenty points for impressive nonverbal charms and twenty points for defending a comrade. Sprout didn't give more points to compensate for Snape's actions. She doesn't play this kindergarten game.
Whether the reason was the absence of the basilisk, or my monologue about Englishmen and dark lords still made an impression, but here they didn't recoil from Harry's Parseltongue like in canon. But not Justin. My attempts to talk to him led to nothing. He only repeated that I should also stay away from Potter, because I'm also Muggle-born, which means I'll suffer first. Where did Justin get such stereotypes about Parseltongue in his head? He didn't even know anything about the magical world until he was eleven.
I continued going to Professor Snape for Potions. He didn't expel me, but began ignoring me. He walked by with a stone face, didn't scold, didn't praise, even stopped practicing sarcasm on me. It's hard with him.
And the club was disbanded after another meeting that also somehow didn't work out. Lockhart focused on theater again — after exams we'll see his next production. And despite the incident with the snake, this year promises to be the calmest year at this school. Of course, it's a pity that Lockhart will remain unpunished, and what's worse, will be able to commit many other crimes in the future, but I very much doubt that I can somehow change this without risk to my life or memory. At least this year.
Ginny finally gathered her courage and asked Harry to practice magic with her. There's a good girl. Of course, Harry still didn't understand that studying was just a pretext. Although he could have, considering Ginny's past behavior. In our conversations he mentioned these lessons a couple of times, but Ginny herself didn't arouse his interest. I think if any other first-year Gryffindor had asked him, he would have agreed to lessons just the same. Eh, Colin didn't guess how to get closer to his idol. It's directly offensive for him. But Ginny herself, having communicated a little with her childhood hero on neutral topics, stopped reacting to him inadequately, although she's still in love.
My parents sent me samples of future advertising — so far without the company name and contacts. I wrote back about which ones seemed most attractive and trustworthy to me, and then decided to give one of them to the Slytherin bucktooth. As if specially for him: complex Before and After examples of bite correction. I asked Madam Pomfrey, Flint wasn't wrong, wizards really can't do this. If you knock out a tooth, you can grow it back, but it will grow exactly where it was originally.
"Hey, Flint, catch!" — I throw him a sample brochure at lunch. Let him look. And let this not be the most impressive example of Muggle power, but water wears away stone. The more pureblooded fanatics know what Muggles are capable of, the less they'll want to mess with them when their bogeyman returns.
Exams go well, the house competition is won by Slytherin, since this year even Dumbledore couldn't think of how to cheat for his favorite. We watch Lockhart's play — quite good actually, and head home. Lockhart also leaves school, to write his next book about how he sowed good, reasonable, eternal things and fought the monster of the dungeons. Interesting, does he mean Snape? He didn't fight anyone else at school.
It turns out that thanks to my intervention, the year ended worse than in canon. It itself was more peaceful, no one was hurt, and Harry wasn't bullied, but in the end we still have a dangerous criminal at large. However, I simply didn't have the spirit to let events follow canon, there were too many incredible coincidences there that ultimately led to success. In a book you can take such risks, but in life — frankly don't want to.