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I stared at the canopy of the bed in a kind of prostration as I struggled to open my eyes. The morning had begun suspiciously hard. Who was to blame, and what to do? There was only one logical explanation - the Dementors. Their presence nearby puts a tangible strain on the mind. On the one hand, they're far away, but on the other, they're out in the open, and if they're not lurking in the Forbidden Forest, scavenging for food among the local animals who must have emotions and souls, they can be seen floating in the air above the treetops. It's a depressing picture.

All this fuss with the Dementors can take a tangible toll on physical fitness. I used to go jogging in the morning before the cold weather. Now, apparently, I would have to use the moving stairs in the main tower of Hogwarts. But there was nothing wrong with that-it was good exercise, too.

After I finished my jog, a little sweaty and out of breath, I cleaned myself up in the shower, and only after that, I put on my suit and robe and went down to the living room. Before I went to bed last night, I checked with Percy about the uniform. It turned out that in classes, there had to be this uniform or a strict costume. There are even amendments for those who have traditions, national or some other, that don't allow them to wear such clothes. Such students are allowed to dress in business clothes appropriate to their traditions, but the robe over it is mandatory. If my uniform implies at least the theoretical possibility of wearing a tie, it is mandatory. If my shirt is white. The rest is extremely preferable in black or dark gray. Why didn't I take an interest in these nuances before?

From the men's wing slowly and surely began to appear sleepy students from different years, dejectedly rubbing their hands over their eyes and cheeks, or just walking around sluggishly, trying to correct the ridiculously protruding edges of shirts and loose hanging ties. I sat in our inconspicuous corner and quietly read one of the books on the ancient runes. Generally, on this subject, I would have to go to the library and get a bunch of different interpreters, dictionaries, translators, and other reference literature, but now I was reading something general. Even the title is common. "Ancient Runes of the Peoples of England and Western Europe. Classification and Description."

A little later, the girls began to descend into the living room. They, unlike the male half of the faculty, looked much more lively and tidy. Percy came into the living room, tidy as ever, with his cap on, and in general, a model student. Also, I think, he was according to the badge on his chest, the school's prefect. Percy was immediately active, pointing to the bulletin board, handing out schedules, assigning various people in charge, and gathering the little ones into a pile at the same time.

"Hi," Hermione plopped down on the couch next to me. "Did you get the schedule?"

"Hi, not yet," I nodded toward the fidgeting redheaded prefect.

"Then let's see," Hermione put her bag on her lap and quickly found the scroll there. "We have the same extra lessons, don't we?"

"If you didn't get something else, they're the same."

"No, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

"Numerology."

"The lesson is called "Arithmancy," which means it is correct to call it that way."

"You'd better show the schedule since you've got it."

"Here," Hermione showed her scroll. "First we have Runes, then Transfiguration, and then..."

The conversation was distracted by an incomprehensible noise and a bright explosion. The Weasley twins burst out of the men's wing. One had ears that were almost as long and hanging down to his chest, and the other had a nose. It didn't look good, but these jerks, after examining themselves, began to cheer. The rest of the Gryffindors picked up on the laughter, amusing themselves and the others.

"Nice," Hermione muttered, squirming slightly in a completely opposite emotion to that word.

"Let's go to breakfast already."

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was abuzz with whispers and conversations that kept coming up with the word "Dementors. Everybody has been scared by their encounter on the train, many of them frightened and pale. Some of them showed distinctive black eyes from sleeplessness.

I glanced fleetingly at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was present. He was discussing something. Malfoy smiled a couple of times wryly but looked lost. However, no one seemed to be paying attention to that fact. Politeness, inattention, or lack of awareness of recent events? As far as I know, Lucius's death was not advertised anywhere. I wonder if there's a reason for that.