HP: Spirit Talker

I put on a cloak instead of a coat, and that was the whole change of clothes, and Luna did the same. And then there was the dark platform, the shouts of a half-giant gathering the first years, the ride in a carriage pulled by Thestral, and the castle itself.

The Man in Black was waiting for me at the entrance. Sour expression, big hooked nose, pale yellowed skin, thin bleeding lips, black eyes and hair. Who doesn't know Snape? Everyone knows Snape!

I was given a studious but somehow displeased look, told without a greeting to wait for the freshmen at the entrance to the Great Hall, after which the "professor" bluntly turned and walked away. Unpleasant guy. Minerva McGonagall looked a lot like the actress who played her, and the woman acted exactly like she did in the movie.

— Mr. Sora Hoshino, I presume? — I just nodded. By the way, the freshmen were not led to any rooms, but to the wide area in front of the hall entrance. — You will be the last to enter the hall, your assignment will also be the last. — And without waiting for answers or questions, she disappeared behind the large doors.

Standing aside, with my back to the wall, I looked up, completely ignoring the cries of the children and the speeches of the spirits. With all my might, I held myself back from expelling the creatures. Souls don't just stay on earth after death, it doesn't work that way. The soul, the spark of God, always leaves, even if there is a nuance with rebirth, that is, a trained, practiced and disciplined mind can take control of the process of rebirth, but it is very difficult to just hang in the state of "non-life".  —You can't do that from scratch.

One of Miyazaki's elders gave a class on the subject, so I know for a fact that ghosts can only become ghosts if you put aside extraneous curses and the like. That is, to dedicate oneself to something, to be imbued with the idea and spirit of one's work, to come to a different, more perfect level of development after death.

Or you can stupidly be a madman, a murderer, revel in violence, pervert the soul, turn into some abomination, like a dementor. But a dementor is another subject for a lecture. In short, ghosts and dementors are either just remnants of spiritual shells preserved after the soul's departure, or real monsters who were monsters in life.

For the gifted, they are basically not dangerous, since they exist at the expense of magic, its free aura radiation, its natural losses. For the ungifted, ghosts are dangerous because, in the absence of magic, they naturally begin to eat prana — the energy of life.

In short, for omyoji who have in their blood to rescue and protect ordinary people from otherworldly dangers, these pearly, translucent uncles and aunts create a persistent desire to cleanse the world of their presence.

In a few minutes, the herd of Pervokurs was brought before the eyes of many and many people who did not spoil them with their attention. Even for me it did not cause the best feelings, but I stayed behind, but what about these tired from the trip and impressions of the children?

It is also very unpleasant that the children are placed in such a way that the teachers are behind their backs. And then there's the amazing ceiling — a voluminous, insanely complex illusion connected to the "body" of the castle by some clever lines and patterns of magic.

Yes, Hogwarts is a vast, complex artifact, though in places it has been seriously tampered with. The children were called, the Sorting Hat distributed them, and I felt a lot of eyes on me, but I didn't feel the desire to look at them, so I raised my eyes to the ceiling and didn't lower them.

You can look at these complex structures for a long time, and I'm sure I'll understand them for a long time. The distribution was over, the last freshman went to the Badger table, and I was waiting for my name to be called when I caught a strange movement. I turned my head to see the Headmaster rising from his gilded throne.

— Greetings to everyone in the hall: first-timers and those returning from vacation! — The man opened his arms wide and smiled, but it was hard to see because of his beard. — We have a lot of news this year, but let me start by saying that this young man, — the headmaster pointed at me with an open palm. — Mr. Sora Hoshino. — There was a murmur in the room and the principal continued. — Yes, yes, he's the one the newspapers wrote about this summer and recently. — The man nodded at the more animated children, some of whom had musical medallions pinned to their chests. — Mr. Hoshino is going straight into the fourth grade. I'll tell you the rest of the news later, but for now, let's support our new comrade and finish the distribution!

— Hoshino, Sora. — McGonagall said, and I walked over to the stool.

As soon as the hat touched my head, I felt a scanning wave, and another, and another, and another, then a mental probe touched my aura, and I heard a thoughtful voice in my ears.

— A great wealth you carry within you, young man, yes....and the magic is pure....it's been a long time since I've seen something like this....who can I please? And what do you think, young man, which faculty will get the best odds, hmm?

— I'm not interested in the petty squabbles of the locals, which can easily be solved with a single conversation in the Circle of Truth. — I shrug. — I'll leave the decision to you, Hat.

— Well, — said the voice in my head, because this artifact doesn't go into my head, but takes information from the imprints in my aura. — You can take a worthy place in any house, but we will... .... GRIFFINDOR!

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