"Dumbledore hates me."
He lowered his newspaper slowly, the hint of a frown tugging at his lips. "Why do you say that?"
Sirius flopped into a tattered armchair in the parlour, exhaling dramatically. "Because I'm about to die of boredom. 'No, Sirius, don't go out in the yard, you might be seen! I'd rather if you stopped being so mean to Kreacher – we don't know where his loyalties lie.' I'm bloody sick of being cajoled into limbo."
"Reading the dictionary again, eh?"
"Well, I don't have anything bloody else to do." Sirius rose to his feet and began pacing by the doorway, shooting bitter glances at Mrs. Black's portrait across the hall. "I'm tired of being a damn housekeeper. Less than that, really – do you know that Mad-Eye still won't let me clean out the ground floor bathroom?"
Remus sighed, returning to his reading. "There's probably a reason why. Remember that ghoul—"
"—in the third floor closet? Moony, I'm here every day. In this decaying old junk heap. And I'm not even allowed in the garden, for Merlin's sake. If something actually happened, for once . . ."
The front door slammed open, and they watched as Tonks – covered in green slime and shedding her clothes rapidly – dashed down the hallway.
"What an idiot, idiot, I'll kill him!"
"Half-blood, freak, filth!"
Remus raised an eyebrow. "Looks like your excitement for the day has arrived, Pads."