"Dark Lord?" Sirius raised his eyebrows ironically. "Dark Lord Voldemort?" Kreacher squealed, doubled over, and put his skinny hands over his ears. "Voldemort An at home?!"
The godfather must have been very surprised to call Grimmauld 12 his home. He did not like this place at all for obvious reasons, and I had no idea that he also had a house elf there besides screaming portraits.
"Sirius…" Rem began, but Rem held up a hand to stop him.
"Wait, Moony. Kreacher, tell me everything you saw," he said rather harshly.
"The Lord came three days ago… At night..." the house swaying from side to side began his story, "Lord was brought in his arms by a nasty man... Nasty friend of the master…" At these words, he raised his huge, veined, bursting eyes to Sirius, and I'm sure there was an accusation in them, "Kreacher found out… Kreacher remembered..."
"Pettigrew," the godmother whispered in impotent fury and clenched his fist, "go on!"
"The Dark Lord was angry… Angry at Master Regulus… Master Regulus stole the locket... The Dark Lord took him!" Kreacher howled again. "Kreacher couldn't do anything! Kreacher didn't follow Master Regulus' orders! Kreacher didn't destroy the locket! Kreacher tried!"
The elf burst into violent sobs. We all exchanged bewildered glances. Sirius, I think, was the most shocked.
"The Dark Lord burned the portrait of the lady!!!"
Kreacher howled in utter despair.
"Why didn't he touch you?" Sirius was surprised.
"Kreacher was scared..." He creaked, "Kreacher hid…"
"But they must have checked first if there were people in the house," Pat said confidently.
"Does he look like a human?" Lou said.
"Elf magic is different," Hermione confirmed, "he could have hidden himself so that he wouldn't be seen."
"If I didn't know that Kreacher has no fantasy..." The godfather said distantly, "either he is completely crazy, or..."
"We need to tell Dumbledore," Rem said, "are you sure it's Peter?"
Oh, I'm afraid without Dumbledore nothing is done in this world...
"Of course, who else," Sirius said angrily, "I told you how protective spells work in my native land, remember? Even then I was afraid that my mother would put me under lock and key, and you would have to rescue me yourself..."
"Actually, I don't remember," Lupin said thoughtfully. "I'm surprised Pettigrew remembered."
"Rat!" the godfather gritted his teeth, "what he needs... I'd rather kill him. It would be something to sit... So, you go to the director, I go to Grimmauld."
"Sirius..."
"Come on. Do you really think Voldemort is entrenched in there now?"
"And we?" I asked a reasonable question.
They turned to us, as if only remembering our existence. We looked at each other and immediately decided where to shove us...
"I think it's scum."
"Harry, it's necessary for our own…"
"...security. I know, Hermione. But still, it's bullshit."
"If I was seventeen, they would not forbid me."
"Well, I'm seventeen. I'm not running with Sirius..."
"There is nothing for you to do there."
"Harry! I did not expect such chauvinism from you!"
"You are a strange people, girls. Either you complain that we don't protect you, or you accuse you of the devil…"
"It's because you're doing everything at the wrong time!" Lou summed up as she finished her pie and got her refill. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley!With pleasure!"
In my humble opinion, which, as usual, no one was interested, it was simply indecent to send us to the Weasleys. People have a holiday - and here is a team of four people whom they don't even know... Well, it's over, that's a strong word... They called Hermione. I'm just like a Christmas tree here, Harry Potter himself. Lou accepted kissing greetings from Fleur with the air of a martyr, exchanging a few phrases with her in French. One Pat here looked strange - one Slytherin for the whole district, after all... The Weasleys greeted us quite normally, even, I would say, cordially. Although here the house was full of people. I don't know how Sirius explained the fact that we need to be floated out of the house. The fact that he and Rem decided to invite the girls and have a sabbath at home? Hardly…
We sat and quietly whispered. Everyone was nervous in their own way. Hermione wrinkled and straightened the napkin on her knees, forgetting that she wasn't talking to Ron. Pat nervously shook his leg and unsuccessfully tried to put on a celebratory expression. I kept wondering how long I would live after Voldemort's return. By any calculations, it turned out that not for long. Lou sat down on Mrs. Weasley's pies, munching them on both cheeks with apparent pleasure.
"My dear," Fleur said in a patronizing voice, "if you eat so much food, then you won't fit into one dress! You'll get fat!"
"Nonsense!" Lou assured her, "it's in France that they get fat. And here, in England, they are getting better before our eyes. And a blush all over your cheek!"
Mrs. Weasley looked at her warmly.
"Well, how do you like our Flux?" said Ginny quietly, peering into our corner.
Ron approached, having previously been arguing about something with the twins. Pat and I looked at each other.
"How can I say…" I answered thoughtfully, "Sister Lou is much worse.
"This one doesn't, at least," Pat added.
"Just kind of boring."
"Yeah. After Sue, you will find any boring, Harry. Sue is his ex-girlfriend," my friend Ginny saw fit to explain.
Ron looked at us in surprise.
Hermione said in disbelief:
"Doesn't it work for you?"
"It's because of me," Lou put in, "they talk to me for too long. I think they're kind of immune to stuff like that."
"Ahhh…" Hermione looked at her knowingly, "they quickly came to their senses even then.
""Ahhh…" Hermione looked at her knowingly, "they quickly came to their senses even then."
"Oh, !" Lou exclaimed, "I'll tell you now. Here the other day a couple of policemen had to powder their brains..."
When our friend captivated the others with an amazing story about what…
Where else can Harry Potter get stuck, Pat quietly addressed me:
"Kreacher said three days ago, at night. It's when..."
"Yes, I understand," I answered irritably, "I'm not a fool.
He was in London - I was in London. Grimmauld Place is not far from Mad Dog.
"And sure enough," my friend said angrily, "even then I thought that the places were familiarfamiliar...
"Well" I said, "and when I was passed out, I saw Sirius's house. I just didn't recognize him right away. And the portrait of his mother yelled like that..."
"And what do you think?"
"I think it's bullshit. He was looking for something and he found it. It doesn't excite me at all... What did Regulus steal from him, huh?"
"The medallion," Pat answered logically, "do you think it was dear to him, like a memory?"
I laughed nervously and thought that in our scheme, the name of the Dark Lord should be circled in red marker.
We again slept side by side in the same room. This time, in Sirius' living room. After sitting at a party for three and a half hours, I spat and said that we had to go. Apparently, the godfather did not ask to hold us to the last, and they let us go, albeit with a creak. Falling out of the fireplace into the dark house, we looked around suspiciously, and came to the conclusion that we would all wait for the godfather and Lupin in the living room together. We long and diligently made assumptions about what kind of medallion it might be. My head ached, but we never came to anything sensible.
"Why did he even steal it?" I wondered.
"He's very important to Voldemort," Hermione said.
"That's clear enough," Pat muttered.
"Maybe," Lou began, and everyone turned to her, "maybe it can be used to weaken the power of the Dark Lord?"
Everyone was silent for a couple of seconds, and she added in an ominous voice:
"Or even destroy it."
"With a medallion?" Pat raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Remember, we live among magic," I reminded him.
"But still, kill with a medallion?!"
"Not to kill, but to destroy," Hermione corrected.
"It's not the same at all!" My friend quipped.
"Maybe not like that," Lou was offended by her version.
"He was a Death Eater. Why would he kill his master?" Asked Pat.
"Snape was one too," I reminded him.
Pat was silent.
"Maybe it's some kind of artifact? With black magic?" Hermione spoke thoughtfully.
"And help him regain his former power," my friend continued in a sepulchral voice, "or even more.
"Nothing good anyway," I concluded pessimistically, "if Lou is right, then we had a weapon in our hands, and we overlooked it. If you are right, then he will not fail to resurrect. And so, and so - lousy."
Everyone fell silent, considering the gravity of the situation. Pat lit a candle. I looked at the curtained windows, behind which it had long been night. And somewhere there is Voldemort, hungry for power, dreaming of revenge and killing me. No, I'm used to being unloved since childhood. They cannot stand my appearance, they wrinkle their nose when I enter the room. I know what it's like to be the odd one out in the house. I have long firmly grasped the truth that there will definitely be people that you will simply do not like. But it was so strange to feel that you have an enemy. Real enemy. Dangerous and deadly. Who won't rest until he finishes you. And who must be killed before he kills you. Either he or I...
"And what a scum overheard the prophecy!" I exclaimed angrily, and everyone shuddered.
Hermione suddenly said:
"It's good that you decided to become an Animagus."
We looked at her in surprise.
"You were always against it," Pat said.
"Imagine the possibilities!" she began to explain enthusiastically, "if the war starts, it will help you a lot. Especially Harry. You and in human form should manifest some features of the animagus form! Don't have them yet?"
She looked demandingly at Pat and me, as if my hooves would grow right from her gaze, and my friend would jump up and fly.
"They are," I replied grimly.
"Truth?" Pat grimaced sarcastically, and by his appearance I decided that he was about to say some vulgarity. Something about stallions...
"Two days later, the full moon," I continued, "and in the presence of Rem, the hairs on the back of my head stand on end, and the feeling is such... I don't know... danger or something..."
"Horses can smell wolves," Lou said in the silence that followed, "I was reading in a book. They start to worry if there are wolves around, because they are afraid of them. But not all, of course. It happens that the strong leaders of the herd themselves trample the wolves with their hooves."
"Harry Potter is the leader of all horses," Pat recited.
"Now you will get it in the forehead. Hoof."
"And my eyesight is better," Pat ignored me, "sharper."
"Lucky," I envied him and adjusted my glasses that had slipped down on my nose.
"That's all right," Hermione said, looking nervously at her watch as it neared twelve, "it means you're already halfway there..."
"Harry, when you turn," Lou asked innocently, "will you ride me?"
Pat laughed.
"Absolutely, my friend, if Voldemort won't let me have horse sausage," I replied with a smile.
"Don't say that," said Hermione nervously, "never say that. You must believe in victory."
"She's right," my friend said seriously, "you have to be ready, Harry. Really ready to fight the Lord."
I sat in my chair and gloomily looked at the clock every ten minutes. Everyone else was asleep. I flinched as a shadow passed by the fireplace, but it was only Crookshanks. It took him a couple of minutes to decide who it would be better for him to get on his knees - me or Hermione, and as a result he chose me - he probably wanted to be stroked.
"Why didn't you eat Pettigrew in time, kitty?" I asked quietly.
The cat lifted its red muzzle at me and studied me in the eyes.
"What, principles don't allow you to eat a traitor, right?" I chuckled, disgusting is still such..."
When we were at the Weasleys, I decided to ask Ron about his former pet.
"There was nothing special about him. A rat is like a rat."
"And what, he never acted strangely?" doubted Pat, "Didn't disappear for a long time? Didn't suddenly show up in inappropriate places?"
I don't know what my friend meant by "inappropriate places". I vividly imagined a rat falling on your head somewhere... In the bathroom, for example... Ron looked at Pat with a mixture of disbelief and interest, as a good half of Gryffindor looked at my friend.
"No, I'm telling you. Slept and ate. The rat was useless. I mean, not a rat... Well, you understand."
Personally, I don't understand what it's like when your pet suddenly turns out to be a killer animagus on the run. It's not hard to imagine though.
"They say you had a drunken brawl before you left," Ginny said cheerfully.
Hermione snorted.
"Who is speaking?" I asked.
"Everyone is talking. Don't you know how rumors spread around Hogwarts?
"No," Pat and I answered in unison.
Ginny looked at us like we were idiots.
"Portraits," she said, smiling, "ghosts. Well, Peeves, of course."
"I'm going to get paranoid with this Hogwarts," grumbled Pat.
"In addition to being claustrophobic?"
Lu laughed.
"Nothing funny. Why do you think the most dark wizards came out of Slytherin? And put a normal person in the dungeons, I would see who grows out of him!"
"Harry, why aren't you sleeping?" Sleepy Hermione lifted her head from the pillow.
"I can't," I admitted, "when thoughts are spinning in my head, I can never sleep."
I took off my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose. When they come, damn them!
People are worried and waiting...
"They're still gone," Hermione said, trying to hide her concern.
She looked at the clock, sat up in an armchair and, looking into the fireplace, hugged herself with her arms.
"You know, my magic first manifested itself when I was six years old. My parents gave me a doll, but I didn't like it so much that it disappeared right from my hands. I was so scared. And nobody believed me."
I chuckled.
"And I dyed the teacher's wig."
"You had a terrible childhood!"
"Yeah, it wasn't a holiday every day," I muttered tiredly, "but when we moved to London it got a lot better. London is not Little Winging, you can hang around wherever you want and not seem strange. Too many weird ones out there. Dudley was lost in his idiotic school. I am in mine. I have friends. And on top of that, after the appendicitis incident, the school nurse yelled at the Dursleys so much that I almost died because of them and all that. Giving in to the fear of a showdown with the Children's Rights Protection Service, they began to beat me much less... That's why I'm still alive!" I suddenly laughed to myself, catching Hermione's eyes full of sympathy and something else.
"Harry, is there really going to be a new war?" She suddenly said in a sad voice.
"I don't know," I answered honestly, "but somehow everything... Strange."
We stared into the fire together. So, somewhere there was unfinished wine... Yes, apparently Pat is right. Because of the magic, we will soon all get drunk. Hermione took the glass in her hands, climbed into the chair with her feet, but did not touch the wine. So, I will getting drunk alone.
"I'm is a hero of heroes," I spread my hands, "but look at me! Do I look like someone who can defeat Voldemort? Like the Chosen One?"
Hermione gave me an appraising look. I did not let her pronounce the verdict, whatever it was.
"It all looks like some kind of farce. If I have to kill him, then there must be at least very cool wizard. But I live quietly among the Muggles, and I don't know that I still need to save the world. And not only did I go to Hogwarts, but then from childhood I had to be prepared for such an important mission. I'm sitting with the Dursleys. Cool!"
"…security. That word will make my eyes twitch. Of course, I am not Dumbledore, and I do not understand the peculiarities of the magic of blood ties, but, you know, I have not been sitting in my room for fifteen years in a row. So theoretically I could have been kidnapped, maimed or killed any time I was outside the walls of my aunt's house. And I, you know, tried to spend as little time as possible there."
We fell silent again. I looked at the couch - Pat was sleeping on his folded arms on the armrest, Lou sat insolently on the pillow leaning against his back. Apparently, the separation for a semester accelerates the development of their relationship... Okay, okay - yes, it's enviable... I am a lonely and useless savior of mankind. Whether I will save him or I will have to be saved is another matter. Okay, stop being melancholy. I pushed my glass of wine away from me. It's time to start a healthy lifestyle.
"I don't get it, are they dating?" Hermione asked quietly.
Apparently, I'm not the only one here touched by my friends.
"Officially - no, but here everything is clear even without Trelawney."
"I can't believe she made the prophecy," Hermione said in amazement.
"The whole point is that Voldemort believed it. By the way, what about Tom Riddle?"
"Sorry, Harry," Hermione sighed, "but not much. Slytherin. Head boy. exemplary behaviour. The best student. Awarded "For special services to the school."
"This, for some?" I drawled sarcastically.
"That's just what I didn't know."
"The best student," I drawled thoughtfully, "well... How are you and Ron?" I suddenly asked.
Hermione blushed slightly.
"I'm sorry," I said, "it's none of my business. I just asked."
She shrugged and stared back at the flames in the fireplace.
"Nothing… I just thought… Well, we might be able to do something... If things had turned out differently... I thought he liked me..."
"So he likes you."
"Even so," said Hermione suddenly angrily, "should I now watch him throw himself after every Quidditch match at the one who shouted the loudest to him from the stands? Run in line for his kiss?"
I almost blurted out a suggestion to her that she try to yell during the match herself - maybe it would attract Ron's attention, but I shut my mouth in time.
"He's not the only guy in the world, after all. Come to think of it, we have so little in common. He has one Quidditch on his mind..."
"...and he's just an idiot," came a dull voice from the couch.
"Pat, are you awake?" Hermione was indignantly confused, "and Ron is not an idiot at all! We just have different interests!"
"Yes, you gored with their chatter! will fall asleep here," he muttered, without lifting his head from his hands, "my advice, Hermione, is to put the Weasleys out of your head and live quietly on."
"Thank you," she said rather caustically.
"Very welcome."
Hermione chuckled vaguely.
"I didn't think you could talk to guys like that!"
"I didn't think so either," I admitted, "but after Sue, I realized that you can talk to girls and not on such topics."
"How long have you been break up? " Hermione asked.
"We didn't break up, we just stopped seeing each other," I explained.
Pat muttered something unintelligible into the armrest of the sofa, but I couldn't hear it.
Maybe for the better...
"You see," I began to explain, "it's not like we have love to the grave. Sue is so... with her you can laugh until you fall over some stupidity that you yourself wouldn't even find funny. Kiss for three hours in a row. We met because... Well I do not know. It's fun with her..."
"Just don't go into details, Potter, I'm not seventeen yet!"
"Sleep, Slytherin dungeon nightmare."
"I can not sleep. Lou laid my whole back on me."
"Porcelain," came the sleepy voice of Lou, "they laid him on his back! Horror is just some! Take it to court!"
Before we could laugh or argue, Sirius, tired and angry, fell out of the fireplace with a loud crack. Everyone jumped in their seats.
"What the heck?" the godfather exclaimed, glaring at us frowningly, "I told you to wait at the Weasleys!"
"Sirius, it's half past two in the morning," I calmly pointed to my watch.
"Yes I know!" he waved his hand as he wearily sat down on the sofa. "Molly told me the same thing when I fell out of the fireplace in the Burrow.
"Where's Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked cautiously and a little excitedly.
"I stayed at school," Sirius said curtly, and under our uncomprehending looks he added, "I just got back from Hogwarts."
"-So what?" I raised my eyebrows, "is that true? Was Voldemort on Grimmauld?"
"Yes," the godfather sighed heavily. He grimaced at the incomplete bottle of wine, glanced wistfully towards the bar where the firewhiskey stood, and said with an incomprehensible intonation, "He burned the portrait of my good mother..."
"Why, I wonder?" muttered Pat.
"I got angry, so I burned it," I simply answered, but immediately added, "probably."
"I personally didn't know how to get rid of him," Sirius chuckled.
"What is a medallion?" Hermione asked.
Sirius laughed a weary barking laugh. I wonder if I'm going to laugh like a horse?!
"Hermione, do you think Dumbledore told me much? To him, Moone and I are no more boys than Harry and Pat. I came to Grimmauld - there was nobody there, of course. Everything is turned upside down, in the living room there is only ashes from portraits. One joy is that the family tapestry was also hurt... I think it's a Fiendfyre... Then the director came with Rem and Snape... They did another inspection. Dumbledore questioned Kreacher personally. Alone, of course," he grinned wryly at his listeners in the face of the four of us.
"All he told us was that my brother, it turns out, stole something very, very valuable right from under his master's nose. For which I received..."
"Is that nothing you're telling us?" Lou asked.
"Firstly, you are not children," the godfather said simply, "and secondly..."
"…we figured it out ourselves," Pat finished for him.
"That's right," Sirius slapped his knees, "and now - we're all finally going to bed!"
I slept badly. It would be strange to sleep like a baby in my case. I woke up before everyone else. He went to the kitchen, and looked dejectedly out the window at an equally dull landscape, and began to drink coffee. When Pat came into the room, I was finishing my second cup, but my mood did not improve.
"Harry Potter's motto for today?" Pat grinned, nodding at my T-shirt.
"Not for today, but for life," I said gloomily.
"Live fast, Die young" read the inscription on the black material. Sue gave me the T-shirt for Valentine's Day.
"Pat, can I ask you?" - I said.
He looked at me suspiciously.
"Can. Only... I hope it's not something stupidly slobbery - like, promise me you'll kill me if Voldemort possesses me!"
I laughed in spite of my lousy state.
"Is that what you wanted to ask?" Pat said again.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you to brew a dreamless sleep potion.
"Why?
"Pat," I looked at him, "the other day I had a dream about Voldemort on the Larry King show. And before that, I married Hermione and married our good dad of yours. More to tell?"
"According to your dreams, buddy, Freud is crying," my friend grinned.
"Today it's complete nonsense," I said gloomily, "as if Voldemort was reborn, the war started, and everyone died. Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore. Snape. And it's like it's all my fault. Do you think it's nice to see this in a dream?"
"Did I die too?"
I remembered a dream.
"You weren't there at all. And Lou was gone. Hermione was here. Ron was there... Ginny... Even this one, whatever… Percy."
"It was you who saw enough of the Weasley family yesterday, so you dreamed about them all in a crowd," Pat assured me authoritatively, "all sorts of nonsense climbs into your head. And drinking this potion is often harmful. Trust the opinion of the son of the Chief Potion Master of Hogwarts."
Our holidays ended at 20:18 that evening. They ended with Severus Snape stepping out of the fireplace, gloomy and obviously unhappy with the fact that this unpleasant mission was entrusted to him. The appearance of the Potions Master was accompanied by a ringing silence of all those present and a loud thud of an ottoman that fell to the floor, which I levitated under my feet. Snape gave us all a menacing look, lingering only on Pat. True, it seemed to me that here his gaze became some kind of checking - alive, healthy, arms and legs in place... The picture before him was unusual, I'm sure. That is, for him unusual... So, narcissistic blockhead Harry Potter with a book (I think he couldn't believe his eyes. I doubt if he knows I can read! And this, by the way, is Hogwarts History, Hermione slipped me) in an armchair, stretching her legs on a flying ottoman. Well, no longer flying... Potter's crazy girlfriend and Granger the know-it-all are looking at some glossy interior design magazine together. And his own child is cut with a former criminal in poker, because Pat has found in the face of Sirius a suitable opponent who does not lose to him as often as the others. Lu was the first to speak. She suddenly exclaimed with some surprise in her voice:
"Oh, Pat, it's yours..." she did not have time to finish, as she received a tangible poke under the ribs with an elbow from Hermione, "...Dean!"
"Hello Professor," Hermione smiled tightly.
"I'm here on Dumbledore's orders..." Snape began in a flat, lifeless voice, but Sirius interrupted him unceremoniously.
"You should at least say hello, Snape!" The professor turned his head sharply in the direction of his godfather, which caused his greasy black tresses to flutter. Well, when will he wash his hair, huh?..
"Hello, Black. Not happy to see you," he said threateningly softly, and then turned back to us, "the headmaster demands that you all return to Hogwarts.
"But…how…" Hermione muttered.
"Why didn't he tell me this himself?" Sirius asked angrily.
"Because, Black," Snape explained in a silky voice, "the headmaster has more important things to do. Of course, if you are able to understand it, which I deeply doubt. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife and touched with your hands. I knew that these two hated each other, but in reality, everything turned out to be much more neglected. Feeling rather than hearing Sirius snorting hard, ready to explode, I jumped out of my chair."
"We'll be ready in a minute," I said.
Hermione and Pat got up too. Lou looked at us in confusion.
"Everyone, including Miss Van Der Heim," Snape said.
Lu stared at him in surprise. Hermione pulled her by the sleeve. Pat, without even looking at his father, silently trudged upstairs.
"Potter, you can't do it in a minute at this rate," the professor hissed at me.
"You know what, Snape?" Sirius blurted out. "order your bottles, and here, in fact, is my home!"
The professor jerked his head and looked at his godfather with the deepest disgust. He gave him that look back. I threw things into the chest as fast as I could. Good thing I didn't really understand it. Something told me that this couple should not be left alone. That's what happens with school enemies. Men under forty, but behave... I really got there first. Having dragged the chest down the stairs, I found myself in the living room. Sirius sat in his chair, arms folded across his chest, staring blankly at the ceiling. Snape stared defiantly at his watch, showing that every second under the same roof with Sirius Black was worse than death for him. Snape glared at me with an unpleasant grin.
"Harry Potter's life creed?" He said softly, and I winced. Do they think the same way? - probably also from the father?
"Don't you, Snivellus, talk about James! The godfather barked.
"What did he call it?!"
"Of course," Snape said in an even quieter voice, "a true friend on guard over the interests of the dead."
He clenched his hand in his robe pocket into a fist, apparently holding a magic wand. Sirius stood up - he was much taller than Snape.
"I'm warning you," his godfather hissed, "I don't care what Dumbledore thinks of you... But if you mess up Harry's life, you'll be dealing with me!"
"What a touching concern!" Snape grinned. "You weren't so concerned about his upbringing before, were you, Black? It was difficult to do this... In Azkaban?"
Sirius suddenly did not attack him after these words, but stretched his lips truly in a grin.
"You don't have to talk about upbringing, Snape," he said harshly, "I don't need any advice from a man from whom even his own son tries to stay away!"
It was a battle of illegal strikes. Sirius was not allowed to talk about his dad, Snape about his son. The professor's face became blotchy.
"Shut up, Black, and mind your own business!" He almost whispered.
"Certainly. Sticking your nose where they are not asked is only your prerogative!"
I didn't even know how I ended up between them. But if I didn't, they would have killed each other, that's for sure.
"YES YOU ARE COMPLETELY STUNNED!!!" I shouted.
"Harry - get out!" Sirius barked, trying to push me out of the way.
"You are not teenagers!" I tried to appeal to them, "Sirius" I looked into the face of my godfather, skewed with hatred, "Sirius, that's enough! You are an adult! Professor!" I turned to Snape, whose face also did not shine with love and forgiveness, "Professor, you are a TEACHER!"
"Fack!" suddenly came a stunned swearing from the stairs.
So Pat interrupted a friendly conversation between two old classmates. Sirius and Snape both calmed down at once, as if coming to their senses. And I wouldn't keep them for long...
"Professor McGonogall's fireplace is open," the professor said.
My friend looked at me inquiringly, as if asking what the showdown was here. I just shook my head slightly. Hopeless business.
I stepped into the fireplace after Pat, astutely taking off my glasses. I waved to Sirius, who smiled reassuringly at me in farewell. It didn't work out very well for him.