Aristocrat (HP/SI)

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The faculty placement ceremony has begun. There are four faculties at Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Puffendui, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long scroll with the names of the students on it. She began calling out the freshmen. The children approached the stool, the Deputy Headmistress placed a magical hat on their head, after which the headgear shouted out the name of the faculty. The child after removing the hat from their head would rush to their table.

Hannah Abbot, a girl with white pigtails and cheeks pink with embarrassment and excitement, was the first to be assigned to the Puffendui Faculty.

Then Susan Bones, a red-haired girl with brown eyes and a rounded face, was assigned there as well.

Then there were a few more children, but Richard only perked up when Professor McGonagall spoke:

- Finch-Fletchley, Justin.

Richard waited with bated breath to see where the future Lord and possibly banker would be placed.

- Puffendui!

Richard noted with satisfaction that this was an excellent option. As he had learnt, it was the most quiet and unremarkable faculty. It would be a good place to spend the next few years.

Ritchie had noticed that artificial intelligence sometimes took a moment, and sometimes the hat stayed on the student's head for a while. So Seamus Finnigan, the blond-haired Irishman, sat in his chair for a full minute before he was sent to Gryffindor.

But here came another exciting moment.

- Granger, Hermione.

Hermione, who had been waiting impatiently for her turn, suddenly found herself still holding onto Richard's robes. Letting go of the fabric, she tore determinedly to her stool and put on her hat almost instantly.

- Gryffindor!

Richard shook his head disapprovingly and whispered quietly:

- What a twist!

Richie once again regretted not watching at least the TV series. The distribution had been in the second episode, but he'd skimmed it and remembered absolutely nothing from that moment. Apparently, Hermione's adventurous spirit was stronger than her desire to have a friend. And after all, the tramp had time to appreciate the girl's uncommon intelligence. It was a great achievement to pass the exams for three years of study in a year and a half. The boy was not sure that without the knowledge from his past life he would be able to repeat such a feat. He had already begun to make plans for Granger, for example, to employ her as his personal secretary at Hogwarts to get him the information he needed.

- Grosvenor, Richard!

This was the moment. Richard looked like a small rock, calm and unruffled, he strode with dignity to the stool. As soon as he sat down on the stool, Professor McGonagall put his hat on his head.

- Mm-hm," a low voice said thoughtfully into his ear. - You belong in Slytherin.

- No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I need to go to Puffendoor.

- Puffendoo what?! - the voice was outraged. - Such a lust for power, for money, for greatness. Slytherin is where you'll get it all.

- Pfft! 'Dear Iskyn,' Richard thought back with blatant irony, 'I beg you, what power, money and greatness! I'm a Grosvenor, I've got a buttload of it! How much more power? I have a seat in the House of Lords reserved from birth, I speak to the Queen on a first-name basis, and my accounts will soon be bursting with money. But it's not easy to find friends for a man of my calibre.

- I see a great mind and a desire to learn," the quiet voice continued. - Ravenclaw seems to have been made for you.

- I can study in any department-it's a school. That's what it's for. But I want to study in a quiet environment with my friend Justin.

- So Puffendoo?

- Please, that's where you're going.

- PUFFENDOUS!

Richard was incredibly relieved. When the hat was removed from his head, he exhaled, squared his shoulders, and walked with a measured step towards the table where the flag hanging on the wall depicted a badger. Loud applause came from there.

Richie sat down next to Justin, who hurried to share his joy with his friend:

- Richie, it's so wonderful that we're going to be in the same department!

- Justin, you should know how hard it was to get the hat to send me after you. It's like that iskine was determined to put me anywhere but with the badgers.

- Iskine? - Justin asked.

- An ISKIN," Richard nodded.

- What makes you think that?

- Artificially intelligent something based on a headdress - what else do you think it is but artificial intelligence?

- Oh... You're probably right, Richie.

- SLIZERIN!

Richard noticed that the hat had just distributed Malfoy. Following him to the same faculty were his lackeys, as well as the much-important Parkinson girl who was embarrassed to be sitting at the same table as the Earl.

Particular attention was drawn to the pretty twin girls, black-haired Indians with slightly swarthy skin and the surname Patil. This surname was familiar to Grosvenor. Having a good memory in this life, he immediately recalled it: Azim Hashim Patil was an Indian multimillionaire, owner of the Vipro Corporation. A Brahman descendant. In the past he had been involved in wholesale grocery deliveries, and was currently investing in IT technology, so he was sure to become a billionaire in the future.

The fact that the daughters of such a man ended up at Hogwarts is understandable. It has become fashionable for Indian rich people to buy property in the UK and have British citizenship.

Such acquaintances Richard was not going to miss. But a small problem was the distribution of the twins to other faculties: Parvati went to Gryffindor, and Padma to the Ravenclaw table.

What struck Richard the most was Harry Potter's allocation. He sat on his stool for quite some time, but eventually the hat exclaimed:

- GRIFFINDOR!

Harry Potter cast a guilty glance at the Puffendui table. The hall erupted in frenzied applause. No one had ever been applauded so loudly before.

Thinking about it, Richard discovered that there was every reason for this distribution. Even when Harry had bought a wand and the seller had described the owner as a stubborn adventurer, it had been obvious where he would go.

But Ron Weasley's placement was no secret - he was sent to Gryffindor almost immediately, much to the delight of his brothers Fred, George and the lanky, red-haired fifteen-year-old Percy.

- It's a shame Harry and Ron went to Gryffindor instead of us," Justin said regretfully.

- It happens," Richard remained unperturbed. - If even twins are assigned to different faculties, let's not even talk about people we know.

Dumbledore's speech passed Richard's mind. He was too deep in thought, mentally composing letters to his father, Mr Blade, Arthur Weasley and Scott Potter.

The easiest letter was the one to his father. It was enough to write that going to the School of Magic had gone well and add a few facts.

It was more difficult to write to Arthur Weasley, who needed to give clear instructions on the development of new magical gadgets, based on the charms spotted during the trip. This included the development of quantum transmitters, an seeker, and a generator with free energy, plus the semblance of a perpetual motion machine for spacecraft. It's a sacrilege to waste such an installation on anything else. Not on cars! There's no shortage of wizards.

Richard realised that thirty wizards were too few for the whole range of tasks. Therefore, it was necessary to find a place in the letter for a decree to expand the staff of wizards and increase the budget. The poppadian feared that this would add to everyone's headaches. After all, Arthur Weasley was already having a hard time combining the position at the Ministry of Magic, where he was so badly needed, and running the workshop. Therefore, it is necessary to look for a new head, and to do it in such a way that the person was honest and responsible, and Arthur will not offend.

Scott Potter was a different story. Firstly, Richard was one hundred per cent sure that Harry Potter would forget to write to his uncle. And Scott had grown very attached to his nephew and was probably worried about him. It was necessary to describe how they got there, where they got in and say that everything was fine. Secondly, the detective should be given the task of finding out the background of Hermione Granger's family and the Patil sisters - whether they are the daughters of a little-known millionaire. Of course, ideally, he should get the dossiers on all of his classmates, or better yet, all of the students at Hogwarts. But Ritchie had only learnt the names of the first year students so far. So that could be put off for the future.

With Blade it is clear - he is a liaison from the secret service, from which Richard needs specialists that will help wizards to understand how to combine magic and technology. Here everything turned out to be even more complicated than with wizards, because it is necessary to explain somehow correctly what exactly it is necessary to achieve, without delving into technical terms, quantum physics and higher mathematics.

When the formulas of quantum physics, which during his studies at the institute in his previous life he hated, but scrupulously crammed and knew because of a strict teacher, are in his head, there is no time for such trifles as ghosts flying around, galloping children and a table full of different dishes.

Richie ate on automatic, not tasting the food. Naturally, he tasted the food perfectly with fork and knife, but he looked like a soulless robot, whose thoughts were far from reality and whose eyes were empty and cold, like the Terminator. This behaviour scared most of the children away from him, and they tried to stay away from him, chatting wildly among themselves.

Richard was only aware of the end of dinner when Justin elbowed him and said:

- Richie, get up, we're about to sing the Hogwarts anthem.

- Hymn? I'm up.

What happened next was hardly a hymn. The people were shouting at every possible time, which made it seem as if it were a madhouse. Finally, the "singing" was over and everyone was dismissed to the living rooms.

A stout brown-haired man with a heavy chin and grey eyes drew attention to himself:

- Freshers, to me! I'm your head boy, Gabriel Truman. Follow me. Try to remember the landmarks and keep up.

The freshmen followed the head boy in an unorganised crowd. Fortunately, it wasn't a long walk - all they had to do was go through the large double doors, down the stairs, and down the spacious corridor to the huge oak wine barrels.

- Remember the knocking," the headman called to attention.

Truman tapped an uncomplicated rhythm with his knuckles on the second barrel from the bottom of the second row. The lid of the barrel slid aside.

- This is how the entrance to our living room opens. We don't hide our secret knocking, and you may bring guests from other faculties into our dormitory. But try not to abuse it. If you knock on the wrong barrel or reproduce the wrong knock, you will be poured vinegar.

The drawing-room, to which the gentle passage inside the barrel led, proved to be a spacious and cosy room with many soft armchairs, sofas and rugs. The room was an unusual round shape with relatively low ceilings for such a castle. The room was decorated in cheery bee-like colours of black and yellow, accentuated by the use of carefully polished honey-coloured wood for the tables and round doors that lead to the girls' and boys' rooms.

Gabriel led the freshman boys to their bedroom, which would become their primary residence for the next five to seven years.

Richard noted that the bedroom is furnished with comfortable wooden beds that are covered with patchwork quilts and arranged in niches resembling bee honeycombs. If desired, the bed can be separated from the bedroom by a canopy and create a small private space. In addition, a small wardrobe was attached in the wall next to each bed. There was a large space in the centre, but it was taken up by small one-person desks, which were set in a circle with a small gap in front of the stove-fireplace. It was the cooker that occupied the most central place, and it was supposedly designed to give warmth on cold winter evenings.

In Britain it is customary to think of the ground floor as the basement, and the ground floor is considered the first floor. Given that the Great Hall is on the ground floor, a person unfamiliar with the British approach to counting floors might have the mistaken impression that the Puffendoo Drawing Room is in a dungeon, like a Slytherin's. In fact, this is incorrect. By the standards of other countries, the Badger dormitory is located on the ground floor, as evidenced by the round windows above the beds that are opposite the door.

Slytherin students, on the other hand, were not so lucky: their dormitory was underground. But Richard was sure that the students' dormitories were on the same level as the Puffenduys'.

- Six," Richard stated.

Justin yawned widely and asked in a sleepy voice:

- What?

- Six beds. Six desks. Six wardrobes... If you counted the number of large furniture pieces individually and added them together, you'd have the number of the devil. The designer had a sense of humour.

- There are only four of us," Justin remarked. - Me, you, Ernie and Zachariah.

Ernie MacMillan was going to be a handsome man, but now he was just a charming boy with wheat hair and blue eyes.

Zachariah Smith resembles Richie and Ernie only in hair colour - he is also blond. But the boy's eyes are dark brown, his build is thick, his nose is wide and his lips are narrow. He looked scared and confused.

- Three blondes and you, Jas," Richard grinned. - We have the fewest freshmen. Only Susan and Hannah are girls. You know, guys, if the other faculties have all-boy dormitories, we're the luckiest. There's two empty beds.

- Oh, my things are here! - said a surprised Zachariah in a tired, thin voice.

- Mine too," said Ernie, coming to the centre bed by the window.

- Oh, and my valise is here too," Justin went to the bed next to Ernie's.

- If no one minds, I think I'll move in here.

Richie took his valise from the bed by the door and took the empty bunk on the side. He reasoned that it would be the best place for the heat from the cooker to be felt. It was a clever calculation, but in the dormitory it was always the first to get up. And although in this life Richard is rich, but in the other world during his higher education he had to live in a student dormitory for a long time. And he was forced to notice that the comfort of the dormitory from the future is no different from the dormitory from the past. Perhaps it was even better, for the room was twice as spacious.

In the morning the boys were awakened by the alarm clock that Richard had set the night before. There was a grumbling noise from Ernie's bedside. Justin pulled the blanket over his head, curled up, and didn't even think about getting up. Only Zachariah struggled to open his eyes, sat up and tried not to get horizontal again.

- Richard, are you crazy?! - Smith asked in a hoarse, sleepy voice. - It's only six o'clock in the morning. We've got another hour and a half to sleep.

- Go back to sleep, I'm not disturbing you. If you know another way to wake up on time, I'll listen carefully and use it.Zachariah mumbled something unintelligible and collapsed with his head on the pillow, wrapped himself in the blanket and tried to sleep.

Richard was used to early wake-ups, so he easily slipped out from under the blanket and turned off the alarm clock.

The first thing Grosvenor did was to assess the bathroom and shower room. They appeared to be shared by all the boys, but with a fairly decent number of sinks, toilets and showers. Despite that, a little later there should still be pandemonium in there. But at six o'clock in the morning, there wasn't a soul in the bathroom and shower room.

After perking up, Richie started writing letters. He didn't finish until the beginning of the eighth hour, when people began to wake up and crawl out into the corridor with crumpled faces.

In the living room, Richard found only one girl about a year or two older. She was a skinny, pointy-chinned brown girl with her hair tightly pulled back into a ponytail.

Adjusting the cuffs of his off-white shirt, Richard headed towards the girl.

- Good morning, Miss. That's a lovely cardigan. That purple colour suits you very well.

- А?

The brown-haired girl put down her book and looked at Richie in surprise.

- We are not represented. Richard Grosvenor, just Richie.

- Erm... Megan Jones, second year.

- Nice to meet you, Miss Jones.

- Oh, just call me Megan, cos I feel like I'm in class with Snape.

- All right, Megan. Wonderful weather to send an owl out today. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell me where the owlery is?

- Do you need to go to the owlery? - Megan asked. - There's plenty of time before breakfast, so let me take you.

- That would be very kind of you, Megan. I'd really appreciate it.

The owl room, as you can easily guess, was in the attic. Except Richie would never have found the tower on his own.

The round room, with its pane-less windows, had many niches in which the owls hooted and rustled loudly.

Letters with a magophone tube for his father and enclosed letters for the Special Services liaison and Scott Potter had been sent with Darth Vader, who had arrived at the school on his own. Arthur Weasley had to use one of the school owls to send the letter.

When Megan and Richard arrived back at the Puffendui dormitory, Truman had already gathered all the sleepy freshmen in the living room.

- Grosvenor, where have you been? - The head boy was indignant. - Only waiting for you.

- Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Richard indicated with a nod of his head. - Mr Truman, I've been sending correspondence. Miss Jones kindly escorted me to the owlery. I hope you will forgive my tardiness.

- All right,'' the headman cooled down. - Listen up. In case anyone has forgotten, Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned yesterday that the north wing of the third floor is closed, which means that it is off limits, even if you really want to. Is that clear to you?

The Headmaster waited until all the freshmen had answered or nodded before continuing:

- I'll be walking you to your classes for the first time. I hope you can find your way to the Great Hall, it's not far. Further down the corridor after leaving the living room is the kitchen. If anyone is hungry, they can go there and ask for something to eat. To enter the kitchen, stop in front of the still life with fruit and tickle the pear - it will turn into a doorknob. There are house elves working in the kitchen. Please do not be surprised by their appearance or insulted. Speak to them politely.

Truman scrutinised all the freshmen and admonished some of them about their appearance. The children began to adjust their clothes and tidy their hair.

- After breakfast, you will need to go back to the living room on your own and get your class schedules from me. Checking it, you will pack your bags with the necessary textbooks. Don't forget ink, quills and parchment. Also, our faculty is one big family. Do not hesitate to ask for help from senior students. Try not to get into conflicts with students from other faculties. Do not take sweets and drinks from anyone. Some students may slip you potion products with effects you won't like for the sake of a joke. Now break into pairs and follow me to breakfast.

The first lesson for the freshmen of Puffendoo and Ravenclaw was Herbology. For this class the students had to go to the greenhouses near the castle. The class was taught by the Dean of Puffendoo, a good-natured, slightly overweight woman with grey hair. Her robe and pointed hat were a little shabby. Richard realised that they were work clothes, to make it easier to dig in the ground. All the students liked Pomona Sprout, she spoke interestingly about magic and ordinary plants, never swore at anyone and was always ready to help them.

For the second lesson, the Headmaster of Puffendoo brought the students to the basement of the castle.

The boys were seated at tables in the potions classroom. They had to pair up, and Richie sat down with Justin.

Leaving his things behind, Richard headed over to the Ravenclaw students.

There were exactly the same number of first year Ravenclaw students as Puffenduys, which was six. Only they had one more girl and one less boy.

Two of the girls were sitting on the far desk and bantering amongst themselves. Mandy Blocklehurst was an unremarkable, slightly overweight girl with a round face. Lisa Turpin was a skinny Irish girl with brown hair and swampy eyes.

Next to Padma Patil, Terry Booth was laying out his writing utensils - a thick-bodied, slightly slouching boy, brown-eyed brown-haired.

The third desk was occupied by Michael Corner, a black-haired, brown-eyed boy with long hair; and Anthony Goldstein, a blond boy with a short haircut and a heavy chin.

In all, there were four blond boys for twelve students, counting Richard. Just an incredible concentration of blond boys.

- Hi, there. You're Padma Patil, aren't you? I'm Richie.

- I've heard a lot about you," the Indian replied. - You're the one they wrote about in the paper as the inventor of a new substance, aren't you?

- The substance is not new. Graphene has been known to scientists for a long time. So I didn't invent it. I just demonstrated a way to make flakes of it. But you're right.

- A new substance? - Booth got excited. - You really invented something?

- You're Terry, aren't you? - Richard asked.

- Yes, and you're Richie. I heard.

- Terry, let's just say I was bored and I put some pencil lead on the tape, then started sticking the tape together many, many times. Eventually an electron microscope study revealed the presence of graphene flakes - a strong, diamond-like carbon structure one atom thick. A very promising material.

- And with the help of magic it is possible to create it? - Booth asked thoughtfully. - After all, there is transfiguration. If it's a form of carbon, then surely it's possible to make it with magic.

Richard smiled politely and replied:

- Terry, -if someone is willing to figure out how to cheaply and mass produce graphene, I'm willing to give a solid grant for research or pay a serious reward for a ready-made method.

- Money is good," Terry said. - Where can I read about graphene?

- If you are interested, I will ask scientists from the university to send a collection of materials on this substance.

- Of course! - rejoiced the boy. - I'd be grateful.

- I'd like to read about graphene, too," Padma said. - Dad said it was the substance of the future.

- Padma, isn't your father Mr Azim Hashim Patil?

- He is. Richie, do you know him? - replied the Indian.

- I've just heard of him," Richard said politely. - He's a well-known businessman, after all. How long have you been in the UK?

- We moved to England when my sister and I were five years old," Padma said. - We live in the suburbs of London most of the time and only occasionally fly to India for holidays. Richie, you're that Grosvenor, aren't you?

- I am! The one and only.

Suddenly, a dark hurricane burst into the study. It was Professor Severus Snape.

- Take your seats!

A soft voice with commanding notes made everyone take their seats and quiet down.

Snape began his class by opening his journal and began to introduce himself to the students. Soon he reached Richard's last name.

- Grosvenor.

Richard stood up from his desk.

- 'That's me, sir.

- Sit down,' Snape said and continued the roll call.

After introducing himself to the class, the Potions professor gave a rousing speech on the importance of his subject. He spoke in a whisper, but the students heard every word he said. Snape had a talent for effortlessly controlling the class. No one even thought about whispering or minding their own business. It seemed that this strict teacher would burn a hole in any trespasser with his gaze.

Soon Snape gave a lecture on safety and gave him the task of brewing a simple potion for boils.

Richard looked in horror at the dried nettle leaves, snake teeth and porcupine needles. He couldn't imagine drinking the concoction that would come from these ingredients. He was even more horrified by the realisation that all this had to be cooked somehow. HOW?!

Richie had never touched a cooker in his entire life, except when he needed to heat up a dish. The same nightmare was on Justin's face.

In his past life, Richard had eaten convenience foods that only needed to be put in a microwave oven to cook. So he didn't have any cooking experience in his previous life either.

- Richie, you know what to do with all this, don't you? - Finch-Fletchley whispered hopefully.

- How? - Richard replied in the same low whisper. - Like you, I grew up around servants and I feel like a tourist in the kitchen. Go on, crush the snake's teeth in a mortar, and I'll try to chop the nettles. I know how to use a knife.

Snape circled the classroom, rustling his long black robe, and watched the students prepare potions. He would suddenly find himself at different points in the room and criticise each one.

- 'Cut more evenly, Mr Grosvenor,' came an irritated hiss over Richard's ear. - 'You're not a woodcutter to put logs like that in your potion!

- Thank you, sir.Richard remained calm and began to chop the nettles better. Justin got nervous and worked faster with the mortar.

An hour later, the students were crawling out of the dungeons like lemons in a Jewish family.

- Snape is a beast! - Justin said. - It's not that, it's not that, it's a potion that can only be used to poison your enemies.....

- Jas, look at it from a positive point of view," Richard said. - At least now you know the recipe for poison from simple ingredients. He was a good teacher, and he made remarks on the subject. You have to admit, we're just as great potions masters as we are brilliant cooks. It's just not our thing. Where have you seen a lord who cooks or boils magical concoction in a cauldron?

- I'm afraid all potions classes will be like that," Justin said sadly.

- What can we do? We'll make magic potion if we have to. It's easier for me to hire a talented potion maker, or even several, than to make potions myself. We all have our strengths.

History of Magic classes were the most depressing I could think of. They were led by a ghost who monotonously muttered a lecture to himself. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to stay awake.

Richard's Transfiguration class was disappointing. It was taught by the strict Professor McGonagall, who was always nagging Richard and Justin. They had to turn a match into a needle, but only Michael and Terry managed to sharpen the wood. Richard, however, could do nothing, no matter how hard he tried.

Only the enchantments promised to be exciting. But even then, Grosvenor was disappointed.

The charms teacher was an elderly dwarf a little over a metre tall - Filius Flitwick. He gave the children exercises to develop their hands and promised that they would not start learning their first spell until the end of October.

Professor Quirinus Quirrell, who taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, turned out to be a terrible teacher. He wore a purple turban on his head, stuttered and stank of garlic. The only thing Richard had noticed was that he was a talented wizard, according to Madame Marchbanks' classification. After all, Quirrell performed spells non-verbally.