"Jinxed it! I totally jinxed it!" I silently fumed at myself, lying in the hospital wing with the rest of the Marauders under the care of the incomparable Madam Pomfrey.
And all because of what? And all because of a not very happy coincidence and Black's arrogance, due to which we not only got dragged into a completely expected skirmish between the senior years of Gryffindor and Slytherin, but also took a direct part in it.
More precisely, James and I initially didn't even try to snap back, realizing what was happening and immediately pressing ourselves against one of the walls of the trophy room. Peter stood frozen like a pillar in the first moments of someone else's fight, almost catching some curse, which was why he himself had to be saved...
Which is where this whole story could have ended, because our Protego mostly withstood stray spells, and no one was going to hit us purposefully... Well, until Sirius realized what was happening and started throwing some near-combat spells and rather complex curses at the senior Slytherins.
"Decided to support his native house, fuck it!" I cursed my too hot-tempered friend, whose attacks on the snakes led to our whole group getting beaten up pretty badly; James and I were severely cursed, and Black got both his arms broken by some impact spell... For which, however, the Slytherins immediately paid, really regretting their decision to get distracted by a group of third-years when our sixth and seventh-years were pressing them...
In general, yes, the hospital wing was currently literally overcrowded, and Madam Pomfrey with her assistants and helpers were urgently patching up more than fifty students... Somewhere in the background Dumbledore was broadcasting about something, McGonagall was hissing like an angry cat, and Slughorn seemed to be lamenting in displeasure. And the other Heads of Houses and school professors were spinning somewhere nearby.
"Good thing Peter got off with a mild fright... Without him, we would have had to sit on hospital rations," Potter grimaced, chewing a meat pie without much pleasure, which the only Marauder left unharmed had dragged to us from the kitchen. "And was it worth it, Black?"
"It was worth it, definitely worth it... Did you see how our guys beat up those slugs?!" Sirius did not lose heart, trying to bring his own pie to his mouth with his casted hands. He wasn't doing very well, but no one was going to help the main culprit of our condition. It's his own fault, and he got off easiest of all.
Drinking Skele-Gro and lying in a cast all night is, of course, unpleasant. But look at James, they threw some parasitic curse on him, which Madam Pomfrey's assistants helped him get rid of quite promptly. But even so, the guy better not use magic for about three days now, and he'll also have to drink almost a month's course of potions, which certainly doesn't add much joy to Potter. Potions in general are very rarely even acceptable in taste, mostly resembling something between cold vomit and rotten nettle decoction.
I got it too, by the way. I got it so badly that right now my whole chest looks more like one big festering inflammation... Which will go away, Merlin willing, if in a couple of days. And even then, I should thank my werewolf nature for such a speed of healing.
Without my increased endurance and accelerated regeneration, I could have lain in the hospital wing for a couple of weeks, despite the well-working medical bandages, the runes on which help cope with magic alien to my body... Well, and they block most of the pain, which allows me to almost ignore not so serious wounds.
"Hey, Remus, at least you support me!" Sirius pleaded, starting to lose in the bickering with Potter, which continued while I calmly stuffed my belly with meat pies. "You held out the longest of us all. You must have seen in full detail how our guys smashed those slugs!"
"Don't shout so loud. Silencing charms are not omnipotent," I shushed the guy, rolling my eyes painfully. "However, you are right in a way. It was interesting to watch such an intense and large-scale crowd-on-crowd battle."
"There, you hear that, James? Moony is on my side," Sirius noticeably cheered up, thereby incredibly infuriating James.
"Except if someone hadn't started attacking the Slytherins, we could have watched the battle to the very end. And we wouldn't have had to frantically fight off spells and transfigured trash flying at us," I immediately added, seemingly not addressing anyone, but still noticeably cooling my buddy's ardor.
"That's true... I didn't think there was such a big difference between me and the senior students. Even protective artifacts hardly helped," Black smiled joylessly, still managing to bite a juicy piece off his own pie.
"It's all about concentration and the amount of magical power. Experienced wizards over time learn to dose the amount of magic put into a spell. And believe me, in the heat of battle, the senior students definitely gave it their all," I easily shrugged my shoulder, having read about such a nuance in textbooks on advanced magical theory more than a month ago, and now having tested this knowledge on myself.
"Ooh, no wonder my Protego and Impervius were broken through so easily," Black soured, seemingly not wanting to develop this topic further.
I, on the contrary, was not left by thoughts about the past battle... In which I, albeit held out a little longer than the guys, having guessed in time to combine Protego with transfiguration and a spell summoning magical smoke. So, I saw my opponents and their attacks perfectly, but the Slytherins attacked me almost blindly for some time, apparently not expecting the execution of such charms in a rather confined space.
But even this turned out to be too little in the end to avoid not very pleasant wounds... The senior students were stronger, cast magic much faster, knew many spells, and also knew how to apply them in a magical battle, often combining not only ordinary charms with curses and transfiguration, but also, it seems, using dark magic...
And I don't even know what will happen to such smartasses in the end and if anything will happen at all. I am simply not sure that the charms I saw were exactly dark magic... My predecessor did not understand this sphere at all, and I was not particularly interested in such magic, even if I knew that some books on this topic are even in the open part of the school library.
"I will need to attend to this issue... Because everything won't end with just one skirmish between Gryffs and snakes. I wouldn't be surprised if today our year of lion cubs goes to take revenge on Slytherin for the fact that three-quarters of the Marauders now inhabit the hospital wing... Well, and if the rest of the guys in our year still don't dare to take such a step, then after our recovery, that same Black will definitely start something..." I reasoned tensely, in passing trying to remember everything I know about the factors on which the power of spells depends.
I really didn't like feeling the "heaviness" of other people's blows.
"Why, even Depulso—one of my favorite spells, performed by that... Sheldon, I think... turned out to be much more powerful than even my most successful attempts to use this spell. Does the difference in age affect power so much?" I continued to reason, having heard conversations more than once or twice that with age and constant practice, a wizard becomes stronger.
How and in what this power is measured—no one ever specified in front of me. Even Remus's father didn't tell anything like that. For the locals, the very fact that over time a wizard can become stronger is obvious, and at the same time his spells will become more powerful... And also a strong mage, in theory, will be able to cast magic longer, use large-scale transfiguration more often, can use "higher" magic and is even capable of performing a couple of spells without a wand at all.
Although higher and wandless magic is the lot of exceptionally talented wizards, because ordinary mages even in old age are unlikely to have enough strength to perform truly powerful spells or use the same Depulso without a wand. Lumos on the tip of the index finger—that is the maximum an ordinary wizard is capable of... Well, or so I think.
"How little I actually know about magic... And the locals, it seems, don't even think about any specifics in this area at all. The power of magic for ordinary mages seems to remain a very abstract concept... However, like a whole bunch of other things related to magic... Perhaps in more advanced books on charms something will be mentioned about the power of wizards too?" I rolled rather disturbing thoughts in my head, not even having a close idea how to approach the issue of strengthening my own spells.
"Well, there must be some secret here... I will never believe that a banal difference in age gives such an advantage in power," I whispered almost silently, struggling with slight pain from a festering wound on my chest and the indignation raging in that same chest.
"What are you talking about, Remus?" Black still heard me, making me curse completely silently now. In the process of my reflections, I somehow lost sight of the fact that Sirius and James were still lying on the adjacent beds.
"Oh, nothing specific... Just thinking how I can increase the power of my own spells," I answered, remembering halfway through that the help of my more noble friends in such a matter could be very handy.
"Mmm, cousin Andromeda always said that I cast quite strong spells for my age... I'll need to clarify with her what exactly this depends on and how one can increase the power of one's own magic," at first thoughtfully, but gradually giving in to his usual enthusiasm, Black had already managed to decide everything for himself.
"Yeah, write to your cousin... I feel today was far from our last skirmish with the Slytherins. And I'm somehow not drawn to falling under other people's curses again," I asked Sirius, unobtrusively hinting that he should share Andromeda's answer with me too if the opportunity arose.
"That's for sure," James chuckled, having already managed to suffer enough during the removal of the parasitic curse from him. "Maybe I should write to my father too... He warned me about possible troubles, so let him suggest how to deal with them now."
"Hmm... maybe then we should also arrange joint training in magic? Well, something like our own dueling club?" I suggested, hoping very much that the guys wouldn't refuse.
"We can. We just need to figure out exactly where to hold the classes," James nodded quickly, interested in such an idea. And Sirius, whose mouth was busy chewing the last pie, also nodded quickly, fully approving of such a venture.
"Well, you can leave the search for a suitable room to me. I have an idea about this," I smiled, recalling a certain amazing room on the eighth floor of one of the towers of Hogwarts... I thought about finding it back during the holidays, but the detentions with McGonagall ruined everything. Which, however, won't stop me from starting my search now, when the guys and I really have an urgent need for our own training room.
I had to dissuade the guys themselves, however, from providing me with all possible assistance in the search. I don't want to lie about the source of my own knowledge. If only because it might turn out to be complete bullshit, and the Room of Requirement—just a figment of a writer's imagination from my past world.
"And in general, you guys better think carefully about what exactly you will write to your relatives. Maybe you should ask for full-fledged manuals on combat magic? I'm sure there's definitely something like that... Well, and I can handle the rest myself," I told James and Sirius then, hoping very much that I wouldn't have too many problems with the search.
There are, of course, exactly three towers in Hogwarts whose height reaches eight floors, but it's unlikely to be a particular problem. Fortunately, my parents and I watched the Harry Potter movies almost every New Year, so I remember the mandatory conditions for opening the Room of Requirement quite well...
It only remains to make sure that the knowledge I have didn't turn out to be artistic fiction or some inaccuracy in that same translation or film adaptation. I never did finish reading the books in my time...