Pat was holding ice on a broken nose, I was holding ice on a bruise on my cheekbone. After all, we had a decent fight. I'm not a big fan of swinging my fists, but because of our friend, it's starting to become a tradition. The three of us were sitting in Aunt Meg's living room, waiting for a long conversation. So far, the wait was longer and because of this, everyone was sitting on pins and needles. A red-haired man named Arthur Weasley did not go with us, and, saying that he would send a message to someone named Dumbledore, he disappeared somewhere with his daughter and her girlfriend. But there was a professor with us, whose name was Remus Lupin (and I thought that no one had been called that for two hundred years), who was now whispering about something in the kitchen with Aunt Meg. "Do you understand anything?" Pat asked dejectedly.
I shook my head. "Do you, Lou?"
She snorted. "Are you deaf? Aunt Meg said that neither Patrick nor Harry knew anything.
I have nothing to do with it at all. And even if I know something, I don't know what I know!"
"Did you understand what you said?" Pat chuckled skeptically. Lou stuck out her tongue at him.
"I'm really shocked that my aunt is familiar with such types," Pat continued. No," I said, " it will be a shock if the Dursleys will be also familiar with them." How many events happened on this day.
And to say that I didn't understand anything is to say nothing. And what really infuriated me was the constant feeling that everyone around me knows more about me than I do myself. And these girls, and these two strange men, and even Aunt Meg! But maybe Pat is right — it's paranoia. Soon I'll even start suspecting my friends. And the voices in the kitchen were getting louder and louder.
Soon the three of us became involuntarily (well, okay, okay-on purpose, because we were dying to understand what was happening!) listen to them. "... I'm just shocked that Harry doesn't know ANYTHING at ALL!" "You know, Remus, if the Dursleys didn't see fit…" Dumbledore is also good fellow... I love Harry, of course… I've known James since thet time he was a kid… And I remember Lily, of course... but I shouldn't have…" I dropped the ice on the floor. The conversation with us has not yet begun, but it has already promised to be not only very long, but also very informative. I turned abruptly to Pat. "Did your aunt know my parents?!" My friend also looked shocked. "Probably," he muttered, " and who is Dumbledore?" Probably the fifth time this day I hear this name! "Not the fifth, but the second." "Hush!" Lou hissed.
The voice from the kitchen continued the argument. "...and Patrick doesn't know anything … I didn't let him go to Hogwarts…" "Where was I not allowed to go?" Pat hissed, pricking up his ears even more. But this was not necessary, because Aunt Meg's voice was heard in Soho. "ARE YOU GOING TO TEACH ME HOW TO RAISE MY OWN NEPHEW?! Do you know…" Lou looked in the direction of the kitchen in surprise. "I didn't know your aunt could scream like that, " she murmured thoughtfully. Pat hunched his shoulders warily. "He shouldn't have made her so angry," he drawled, also squinting in the direction of the kitchen, only not with surprise, but with apprehension," this is her highest boiling point. I think she's going to kill him now. With a frying pan on the top of the head. I let out a nervous laugh. "Only a corpse was not enough for us today." Everything that has happened today has given me a headache. I picked up the ice from the floor, which had almost melted in a plastic bag, and put it to my forehead. I immediately felt better. "Did you get a bruise?" Pat observed my gesture sarcastically. "Yeah"— I looked at him gloomily, - "now I'll get up, and you'll crawl over" "Potter, you have increased aggressiveness today." And something they are quiet there. "Has she killed her yet? I didn't hear the sound of a falling body." At Pat's words, Aunt Meg and the professor entered the living room. Lupin looked morally beaten, I would say, and Aunt Pat's is militantly unapproachable. By the way, she started it. "I want to say right away. Whatever you hear now, Patrick, know that everything I did, I did only for your own well-being! And the only thing I wanted was for you to be happy!" Pat was embarrassed by this strange tirade. "So I'm ... kind of ... happy. Everything is fine. It's fine, right?" He looked at Aunt Meg, but she stubbornly refused to look him in the eye. He turned his gaze to the professor. His question remained unanswered. ""I don't even know where to start," the professor said sadly. "Start over," Lou suggested. Lupin looked at her and started to say something, but Aunt Meg cut him off flatly. "They'll tell her anyway." "Okay," the professor sighed, "Harry, Patrick — you're both wizards." I honestly didn't immediately understand what he meant. This was somewhat off topic. Pat didn't immediately understand either. "Who?"
we asked at the same time. "Wizards," repeated Lupin, " those who practice magic."
Pat looked at him like he was crazy and laughed. Moreover, so sincerely that I would have joined in too, if it hadn't been for the absolutely unfunny appearance of the professor and Aunt Meg. Lou was tactfully silent. "Yes, of course, I'm a wizard," Pat said, still laughing, "as soon as I start conjuring, so sparks from his eyes. Only my head hurts in the morning. What kind of stupid jokes are these?" Then he noticed that everyone was sitting with serious faces. At that time, I generally had one thought — you should agree with crazy people in everything. "Aunt?" Pat shot a questioning glance at his aunt. Margaret Random, who bears absolutely no resemblance to her nephew, fair-haired and blue-eyed, turned pale and pursed her lips, which (to my horror) she began to look like Aunt Petunia. "It's true, " she said softly. "What nonsense" I blurted out. The professor looked at me very carefully and silently pulled out a thin wooden wand (magic???) from the inner pocket of his jacket. A light wave — and the rose in the vase on the table turned into crystal. That is, it just became crystal. My mouth must have dropped open. And I'm not the only one. "fuck it tricks," Pat muttered. "It's not magic, it's magic," Professor Lupin said matter — of-factly. "There's no such thing as magic," Pat said stubbornly. Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows in surprise-probably the first time he met such an incredulous person. And, honestly, I didn't get into what was happening myself. "Patrick," Aunt Meg began to say — " my sister Michelle, your mother, was a sorceress. And our parents were also magicians. I am a squib, that is, a person born into a magical family, but devoid of magic. I had absolutely nothing to do in the magical world, so I settled among Muggles…" "Who?" Pat was surprised.
"Muggles are people who … Not magicians" the professor put in. "You were barely a year old when her … When she died, "Aunt Meg continued," you know, there were such different events… I was just too afraid for your life to send you to the magical world!" Aunt Meg looked deeply saddened and even a little ashamed. Pat's is deeply shocked. Finally he said his weighty word:
"To be honest, the last time I was so shocked when I found out that girls are arranged differently." "Patrick!" Aunt Meg exclaimed reproachfully, as she always did when Pat gave something on the verge of decency. But there was relief in his voice. She probably expected Pat to start throwing up and throwing up because they didn't tell him anything. I deliberately don't say anything about myself. To be honest, I didn't want to think about anything at that moment, much less about witchcraft. But I kept remembering all the strange things that had happened to me — and how I had somehow ended up on the roof of the school cafeteria as a child, when Dudley and his gang were chasing me, as usual, and how my hair had grown overnight after Aunt Petunia had cut me almost bald with kitchen scissors, and who knows how the glass in the terrarium disappeared. Damn, and I was talking to a snake then! However, the next day I already thought that I had imagined it. How long ago it was! And how did all this give me a headache… "So the broken glass was my doing?" Pat asked, narrowing his eyes. The professor nodded. "Yes, a spontaneous manifestation of magic. This happens sometimes with children-wizards, until the age of eleven the Ministry looks at it through its fingers. But since you are already out of childhood…" Aunt Meg started.
"Remus, don't tell me he's going to have a hearing on the use of magic by minors!" The ministry, the hearing, — I said —" I see that everything is set up properly there!" Am I going to be judged for this? for what I did, and I didn't understand what?" The professor shook his head. "I don't think so. If you didn't know anything, what can you do about it? Even in the worst case, they would have broken the wand and expelled you from school, but since you don't have a wand, and you don't go to Hogwarts, then all this makes no sense." Then Pat remembered about me. "And Harry? Was he not allowed to become a wizard, too?" The professor did not have time to answer, as we were interrupted. A shaggy brown bird flew in through the open window. An owl??? With the letter??? Pat and I carefully traced her path to the professor. He quickly untied the small letter and read it. "It's from Dumbledore. He'll be here any minute." Lupin glanced out of the window, as if he expected the notorious Dumbledore to jump into the room after the owl. "I think he can explain everything to you better than I can, Harry. And about you, and about your parents, about whom, as I guess, you also know nothing, and about your life with relatives. If I could explain it to Sirius … And then he was so raging… "To whom?" I asked.
The professor smiled. "Sirius Black — your godfather." I was stunned. "I have a legitimate godfather, and I live with relatives who hate me?!" The professor's smile became a little embarrassed. "That's exactly why he was raging. When he came out…"
"Out?" Pat interrupted him enthusiastically. "Yes, in Azkaban," said Lupin sadly. "What kind of Azkaban?" I asked a little nervously. "A prison for wizards on some island in some sea." The four of us — me, Pat, Lupin, and Aunt Meg-fell silent and slowly turned to our Lou. To be honest, I completely forgot about her existence in this room — she didn't say a word during the entire conversation. "How do you know that?" I asked, shocked. Lou sighed and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. "My sister is a witch. And this is another reason for parents to turn her into an idol. I know a lot of things. After all, even if you don't want to listen, you will definitely learn a lot of nonsense." "This day will probably never end," Pat drawled wearily. The doorbell rang. A minute later, Aunt Meg came into the living room with a guest. I thought nothing would surprise me today. The man who came was tall, thin, and very old, judging by his silver hair and beard — both of which were so long that he could easily have stuck them in his belt. He was dressed in a long cassock, over which a purple mantle fell to the ground, his feet were shod in shoes with buckles and high heels. His blue eyes shone with a bright light from under glasses with glasses in the shape of a crescent moon, which sat on a long nose, so hooked that it seemed as if this nose had been broken in at least two places. So FRANKLY MAGICAL view just brought me to a stupor. This is definitely Dumbledore, I thought, the one who apparently rules everything here. "Margaret, Remus," the old man greeted them. He looked around our company and stopped at me, smiling slightly. "Harry, hello! I am Albus Dumbledore, and, despite the not very pleasant circumstances, I am very glad to meet you."