Готовый перевод Тейлор Поттер и философский виал / Taylor Potter and the Philosophical Vial: Глава 11. День святого Валентина и прочие дела

Chapter 11. Valentine's Day and Other Things
*

Lately, Taylor had come to dislike weekends because they meant no classes and the days would drag on twice as long as usual. The dorm was empty, everyone had already gone somewhere, and Taylor, yawning gloomily and wondering why everyone couldn't sleep on Sundays, trudged off to do her morning chores. Something unusual was happening at Wormwarts — the increased activity of students, elfs, and professors, which Taylor sensed through the insects — and it all made her wary. Another attack? Another enraged tree? Alarm flared in her soul, and Taylor, instantly awake, began to prepare for battle.

Halfway into the suit, she paused, struck by a sudden thought. Reflexes and subconscious, her body acted on its own, ready to rush to save her friends. The lessons of Wormwarts, especially Quidditch and DADP, had not been wasted on Taylor, and now she organized and clustered her thoughts like insects, forming dense rows, spinning webs of thought, aligning and organizing herself. Self-deception had no place in combat, and Taylor admitted that her friends were still her friends. Not ex-friends, not traitors, but people for whom she was ready to fight and defend without hesitation, against anyone.

Taylor realized she was ready to accept and forgive what they had done, but were her friends ready to forgive her in return? Wouldn't this all turn into a pathetic act of pathetic self-abasement? And then Taylor braced herself, because her friends were in danger, which meant she could and should indulge in reflection later, after she had saved them or made sure they were all right.

With that thought, Taylor, now fully prepared, rushed out the door.

It felt like a young and inept Brute had punched her in the forehead. Wormwarts... had changed, everything was white and pink, hearts were flying through the corridors, and three of them immediately began circling Taylor's head, as if she'd landed in some cartoon where stars and hearts fly around the characters after being hit.

"Send me to someone," sang the first heart.

"I will convey your feelings," the second one immediately began to sing.

"Better me, because I am a big heart!" Pushing them aside, the third one flew out.

"Oh, Taylor, you're my idol, I adore you, and I'll see you off to school!" A whole music box floated down from somewhere above, knocking hearts to the floor. "Victoria Weasley sends you her regards and hopes for a quick reply!"

"What the hell is going on here?" Taylor muttered, retreating to the bedroom.

The screens opposite flashed the words "Happy Valentine's Day!" and the line "Taylor Potter, follow the glowing line" ran down the wall.

"What the," and then Taylor saw.

A line glowed on the hallway floor. Made of hearts. Taylor inhaled, then exhaled with relief—no danger!—and followed the line.

"I'm glad everyone responded to my call and came on this wonderful Sunday!" said Professor Niceguy.

The Wormwarts students, filling the Great Hall, listened. Hearts and boxes flew through the air, swirling, singing, but very quietly, barely drowning out Lockhart's voice.

"A huge thank you to Headmistress Fortuna Dumbledore for supporting my initiative, as we all need support and love, and that's what Valentine's Day is all about – it's a day for all lovers! Send gifts, declare your love, don't be shy about expressing your feelings, and help each other on this wonderful day!"

Taylor could have sworn that after these words, Niceguy winked at her personally, and she felt grateful. The professor had truly figured out how to help her. Express your feelings? Well, now she would go and express them. True, Taylor's feet were frozen to the ground for some reason, and her tongue felt like cotton wool, but she used one of her tricks: she imagined it wasn't her, but someone under her control, a puppet.

She's a Master, after all, if she can control insects, so why not imagine her controlling her own body like some kind of giant beetle? No, a butterfly. That's right, a butterfly. Her soul immediately calmed, her Tactician skills kicking in. How to gather those who don't want to gather together? With maneuvers and cunning! However, a second later, Taylor discarded the second part – there had already been enough cunning this year, and nothing good had come of it.

"Is it possible to plan love? I think Accord Flitwick can help you with that! Grow a tree of love? Ray Sprout will give you advice! A duel for a lady's heart? Hannah McGonagall will show you how it should be done!" Niceguy ranted in the background.

Taylor didn't exactly freeze, but she briefly wondered if Cape society had laws against Masters who coerced and imposed emotions. The history books offered no answer, even the parts dealing with Zion de Mort, which was essentially modern history. The simplest solution seemed obvious: befriend Lisa, ask her advice, but for some reason, the thought nagged at her. Priorities, Taylor reminded herself: first, rebuild the friendship, then consider the rest.

"Don't be shy about expressing your feelings!" Lockhart declared at the end. "Let the Love Feast begin!"

Leading by example, he immediately approached Headmistress Dumbledore and began speaking to her, judging by his gestures, lavishing smiles and compliments on "Fortuna's unfading beauty." Another fleeting thought occurred to Taylor: Fortuna Dumbledore had personally known the Founders and had been involved in the formation of Cape society. How old was she in 1908, when the Tunguska meteorite fell? And how old was she now, since it was 2023? One hundred and twenty? The Headmistress looked no more than thirty; to be precise, her age was impossible to discern from her appearance; a dark-skinned, middle-aged woman, that's all.

"Victoria!" Taylor threw the thread, attracting the attention of the youngest Weasley, floating in the air.

"Oh, Taylor! Did you get my box?"

"You should work on your rhyme," Potter smiled. "Can I ask you?"

"Anything!" Victoria exclaimed passionately.

Taylor paused for a second, listening to the sensations. No, it wasn't pressure, not forced emotion, not an attempt... basically, it was simply a fan's delight in front of her idol. But why today? Where had Victoria been for a month and a half?

"Bring your sister, Amy Weasley, even if she resists."

"Amy?" Victoria asked in a low voice.

"Amy. ​​Or is she no longer considered "anything"? Or are you saying she's not your sister?"

"But I..."

Taylor realized she needed to resort to the Tactician's tricks and stratagems again. Create a decoy, present a false target, so the enemy will come to where you want them to go and not interfere with your plans.

"The next time we have an event like this, with dancing and everything, you'll be the first one I invite, I give you my word on that, my friend," Taylor said.

Watching Vicky fly off, she blinked weakly, adjusted her glasses, and went in search of Lisa. However, in Taylor's case, the phrase "went in search" was nothing more than a figure of speech, as she already knew where Granger was. Despite all the systems and filters at Wormwarts, Taylor dragged the insects everywhere, planted them on people, kept an eye on them, set up "alarms" of web threads, and generally killed time as best she could.

"You're serious," Lisa said as soon as Taylor was there.

No "hello," no "excuse me," straight to the point and straight to the point with a superpower, and for some reason, Taylor found it incredibly sweet. It was like the old days were back.

"And, of course, you attracted the Weasley sisters," Lisa sighed heavily.

Victoria landed next to her, nearly dropping Amy. Amid the general hubbub, noise, shouts, and students rushing around the hall, no one paid any attention to the four girls. In fact, they might as well have been in an empty hall; no one cared about them, and everyone was busy with more important things. Taylor, realizing this, simultaneously thought it would have been better outside the Hall — the excessive concentration of capes was disconcerting.

This was one of the reasons why a significant portion of capes lived among ordinary people, why cape society invested significant effort into socialization and support for its members, through schools like Wormwarts and other such things. Too high a concentration of capes generated conflict, awkwardness, uncertainty, disorientation, fear, and much more. From this perspective, life in schools served not only the purpose of socialization among humans but also taught them how to live among capes, how to cope, and smooth over the rough edges of a society where everyone has superpowers. Are you unwittingly spying on your neighbor with insects? But they can read your thoughts, or they can destroy your house with a punch, or blow up an entire pocket dimension if something goes wrong.

Living among common humans was easier, even despite the need to make efforts to disguise and conceal one's superpowers. Fewer capes around meant less pressure and thirst for conflict, less competition, less of everything, except humans, of course. \\"Well, there's no need to go far," Taylor thought, biting her cheek. "We had a team of three capes, and it fell apart at the first problem."

"Is there something you don't like?" Victoria asked defiantly.

“She probably understands that she won’t be able to manipulate us,” Amy nodded, and then frowned, as if she had said something wrong.

"If you...," Granger began, but then a fly flew into her mouth.

"That's enough," Taylor said calmly. "Thank you, Vicky, I'll honor the promise."

She nodded, ruffled her hair, briefly turning it into a blonde mohawk, and pretended to be off on business. In reality, she was lurking nearby, as Taylor could clearly sense, trying to eavesdrop, but that didn't particularly matter right now, and Potter didn't bother the youngest Weasley.

"You're both my best friends," Taylor said, holding out her hands to Amy and Lisa.

Almost immediately, it became obvious that instead of a triangle, it was an angle. Neither of them objected to Taylor extending her hand, but not to each other. More precisely, both Amy and Lisa were more inclined to return Potter's gesture (not without hesitation, as Taylor noted) than to extend their hands to each other.

Well, actually, it would be stupid to hope to fix everything in a second, wouldn't it?

"I've done bad and unforgivable things, even if I don't remember many of them," Taylor continued, "but I'm sure you wouldn't be angry with me over trivial things. I'm not talking about forgiveness, and I'm not asking for it, but you are my best friends, and I will always be there for you. That's it."

The speech wasn't easy for her; Taylor was sweating from head to toe and shaking. At the same time, she was sincere in every word, in every letter, and this brought a strange relief and calm.

"Unfortunately, I didn't know about the holiday and didn't prepare any gifts, but I think it will be enough for me to realize my own stupidity and how important you are to me," Taylor said, throwing up her hands.

Here, she wasn't exactly being disingenuous, more like she was skimming the surface, not wanting to delve into the matter. She knew about the holiday, she just hadn't realized the Capes celebrated it — at least, they hadn't celebrated it last year. Or had they? But not on such a grand scale. Pictures from home, a kaleidoscope of memories swirled in Taylor's head: chocolates, gifts, Madison's dresses, calls, cards, kisses from older relatives—but not Potter, of course, the holiday was only for her daughter, and so on. Which of these was she supposed to give her friends? She didn't have any presents, of course, but perhaps a music box like the one Vicky had sent would do? Or a ribbon of hearts? Or should she try making something out of chocolate?

But no, she's among the capes, so maybe other things are in use here?

"I don't hold a grudge against you, Taylor," Amy said after a long and frankly awkward pause, "but only against you, not against this one!"

She glanced sideways at Lisa, as if she were about to brand her.

"Thank you very much, I won't have to worry about whether you mess with my head or not," Granger was quick to retort.

"But that's all you ever wanted from me! What, you don't want me to fix that painful head of yours anymore?" Amy sneered.

As always happened at such moments, the blood rushed to her face, hiding her freckles and turning her head into an almost blazing red-orange fire.

"You're not quite right in the head yourself, and you want to shake mine up too?"

This was clearly heading, if not toward a fight, then a girls' brawl, and Taylor growled silently, curling her fingers as if claws might spring out. Sharp, sharp claws that she could dig into these fools, or into her own head, ridding herself of the sight of this pathetic squabble and her own pathetic thoughts.

"Enough!" Taylor quickly stepped forward.

She pulled Amy, who hadn't expected it, toward her and hugged her tightly, squeezing until Weasley let out a stifled squeak. By the time Amy realized what had happened and began to open her mouth, blushing all over, Taylor had already retreated.

"I trust you, Amy," she said. "You're my best friend."

Another step, this time to the left, swift and quick, intercepting Lisa as she tried to retreat.

"No ribs!" Granger managed to joke before she, too, was hugged so tightly that it crunched.

Taylor, however, thought that sometimes it was convenient to deal with the Thinkers. Lisa realized that struggling was useless and didn't try to escape.

"I trust you, Lisa," Taylor repeated. "You're my best friend."

She looked at both of them and added.

"As you can see, you now have something in common, my friendly embrace."

The speed, surprise, and onslaught practically guaranteed that Amy wouldn't have time to figure anything out, to construct some complex bioconstruct, and transmit it to Lisa through Taylor. On the other hand, had Amy wanted to cause something deadly, she would have done so long ago, given that the air around her was filled with living organisms, both micro and macro.

Amy rubbed her shoulders thoughtfully, as if she couldn't believe she was almost crushed in an embrace.

Lisa grimaced thoughtfully.

"And you still call me your friend?" she said indignantly.

"What?" Taylor grinned falsely. "Can't I even hug you?"

"My power!" Granger screamed, even jumping a little. "It goes crazy at moments like this, it goes full throttle, completely uncontrollable, and a Niagara Falls of information pours into my head! It's... it's... too much, even with a friendly hug, that's it!"

"Sorry, I didn't know," Taylor replied, throwing up her hands.

She considered suggesting intensive hug training, but then changed her mind. There was no point in pushing her luck; everything had already gone much more smoothly than she could have hoped. A start had been made, some shared, bonding moment already this year, after the argument, without reminiscing about past exploits. Now, she could carefully build on her advantage without yielding on other parts of the battlefield, and the job would be done. For a moment, Taylor wondered if Lisa had sensed the same distinct mental tang of shit as she manipulated him, or if that was a luxury only Potter could afford.

But, for obvious reasons, she did not develop this idea.

"I'll go get the presents, and you two don't kill each other in the meantime, okay, because then who would I give the presents to? Instead, hug each other like I just hugged you," Taylor suggested.

Watching Taylor retreat, knowing she "saw" everything, Lisa stuck her tongue out at Amy, smirked, and stalked out of the Hall. As it turned out, Snape wasn't bluffing, and now three-quarters of Lisa's time and energy were devoted to his tasks. Nevertheless, Granger's research, along with Project Dimension of Secrets, continued to progress.

Amy's face burned and ached, as did her arms and ribs. Sometimes, Taylor didn't realize how strong and resilient she was. This was all wrong, and Amy was at a loss again, unsure what to do. And should she do anything, since, after all, Taylor herself... was the one who... suggested they be friends again?

* * *

Внимание! Этот перевод, возможно, ещё не готов.
Его статус: идёт перевод

Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/88456/594567

Переводчики: Camrad_RIP