"You know, buddy, I'm certainly very happy for you and all that... But tell me, for God's sake, what is the connection between your conversation with Snape and... Well, and... you yourself understand," I did not find the words.

"I knew that sooner or later you would ask about it," Pat said contentedly, looking around.

"So I'm asking," I confirmed, "maybe, of course, I'm getting into my own business, but what is he did you say that?!"

"What did he say?" my friend gave me a puzzled look, " but nothing special"

"How is it - nothing special?!"

I was stunned by Pat's equanimity. The connection between his decisive action and his conversation with his father was undeniable. The connection between his decisive action and his conversation with his father was undeniable. All the possibilities came to my mind, from the Potions Master's revelations about his unhappy loves to the fact that Pat now slurped a glass of a potion of determination instead of water. Hermione, well done - shows an excellent example of endurance and diligently pretends that she is not at all interested in what the conversation between father and son took place about.

"Lou and Pat have finally stopped fooling around. I am very happy for them," she declared to me and refused to indulge in guessing the reasons.

Actually, outwardly, their relationship has not changed much. In the depths of my soul, I was most afraid of this (although I myself was waiting for the denouement of this story most of all) - that my friends would become completely occupied with each other, and I would be left alone, forgotten by everyone and nobody needed. But my fears turned out to be in vain, because I did not take into account one circumstance - Lou and Pat know each other so well, they got used to their characters so long ago that for complete happiness they only needed to erase this last barrier. De jure, as they say. They got closer to each other, and I... And, frankly, I was jealous. Very good, friendly - but envied. Because of the stalemate demonstrations in the library, the word naturally spread throughout the school. Lou's circle of admirers was especially upset - everyone there was absolutely sure that Pat could not win the beauty's heart without third-party means - Love Potion, for example... They would have dragged the Imperius.

"So you didn't say anything right away?" - I was surprised, "you went to his office, saw him and then it dawned on you?!"

"No, why," Pat smiled wryly, "he talked about what I thought. You should have seen the expression on his face! Die, don't get up. You know, I think he is very ashamed in front of me and that's why he has such incomprehensible jumps in behavior."

"It's just that Snape doesn't know what to do when deducting points doesn't solve the problem," I suggested.

"Perhaps," my friend nodded, "well, I answered him what I was going to. Let him think now - it's good for him."

"Stop," I slowed him down.

It turns out that dragging along under the invisibility cloak is such a hassle. Mrs. Norris paraded past, sniffing the air like a Gestapo sheepdog. Pat and I held our breath. For a minute this sheep rubbed around us, and then went home.

"Basically, I like cats," breathed out Pat in relief, "but not this one in particular."

"And it is necessary - to drag yourself to the tower at night?" I clarified.

He nodded and we moved on. I don't know what's in my friend's head, but at the moment - and at the moment it's night - he was dragging me up to the Astronomy Tower, promising to show me something important.

"So," I continued in a tragic whisper, "you just sat at Snape's, and then you jumped up and ran to pounce on Lou?"

"Well, yes, in general" it was so, - he shrugged his shoulders, "what do you think about? That he patted me on the shoulder and said, "Come on, son! It's time to act!"? I just finally understood it!"

"Understood what?"

"Not "what", but "whom". His! Snape!" Pat told me with the air of a discoverer of America, "since I first saw him, I have been trying to understand what kind of person my father is. And now I'm sitting in his office, looking at him - and I understood! You see, this is a person who goes with the flow all his life!"

"Snape?" I muttered incredulously.

"Look for his," Pat said, "Hogwarts. Got into Slytherin. Everyone says Slytherins are goats and love dark magic. Did he do anything to prove that it wasn't? No. He became the same. Which led him to end up with Voldemort. Did he resist? No. Walked the beaten path - became a Death Eater. And when he was completely pecked in the ass by a rooster, he went to surrender to Dumbledore. Okay, became a double spy. The war is over, so what? Sixteen years have passed, and the director - that old bastard - still keeps him under thumb. And if something happens, send Snape to hell in the mouth, and the most interesting - he will go!"

"Well, he's not alone in this," I cheered, "at Dumbledore's orders, many people will go to no less interesting places!"

"I have no doubt about that," Pat grinned, "but listen further. The most interesting - Snape and women. You think he's single just because he's got a scumbag personality and a nose on the floor of his face? He didn't lift a finger to say it wasn't! Look, your mom. Yes, I am ready to swear by anything that he did not say a word to her about his feelings! Maybe he thinks that legalism is owned by everyone, I don't know… Not only did he not say anything, he did nothing to improve his opinion of himself. Did he really think that a muggle-born sorceress, a Gryffindor, would fall for a gloomy guy with the manners of a future Death Eater? What was he even thinking? Well, okay, here you can attribute it to the fact that your mom had your dad, there was high competition and, in general, the stars gathered in the wrong house. But my mother! Yes, a man with his reputation should have thanked heaven for such a gift of fate. Moreover, I deeply doubt that he was the first to approach her to say "hello." Honestly, I have no idea how miraculously she managed to drag him into... I have no doubt that the hot summer of the seventy-ninth remained his most vivid impression in his entire life. But she left - and he did not even try to return her!"

"Maybe he wanted to protect her?" I suggested, "and thought she would be safer away from him?"

"It's strange somehow he tried to do it," Pat snorted in annoyance, "and that's not the point. My father did nothing in his life to be happy - he sat and waited for love and happiness to fall right on his head. And you can see what he was waiting for. And I don't want to be like him. I'm not going to wait, don't understand what, and as a result, life will fly downhill and the beloved girl will be taken away from under her nose. I understood all this," Pat decisively summed up, "and did what I should have done a long time ago. Am I right?"

"Right," I agreed.

My friend was so happy that he finally figured out his dad that I did not speak out that their situations were fundamentally different, and Lou would never get away from under Pat's long nose, and that Pat really is not so like his father to repeat his mistakes...

"Come on," he announced as he wriggled out of his invisibility cloak.

Personally, I first came here at night. Nice. Now it's clear why this is a favorite place for dates. Well, if not in winter, of course. Making out in the cold wind, when the frost is minus twenty - no love will warm here. And so it's beautiful, the stars, the full moon is shining... Full moon, huh...

Pat walked around the perimeter of the Astronomy Tower with a commanding step, approached the very edge, carefully looked down, looked around the sky, as if checking the flight conditions. I think I'm beginning to wonder why he brought me here... Did he succeed?!

"Well?" I hurried him.

"Watch and learn," he said with a smug smile as he pulled off his robe and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"You dragged me here in the middle of the night to show a striptease?" I choked out, barely holding back my laughter.

Can you imagine what you might think if you now break into the site of the Astronomy Tower!

"Stop whining, idiot. It's easier."

Pat stripped to the waist, took off his boots, and shivered.

Although it was already late spring, it was still cold at night. But when compared with swimming in the lake in October, then this is a mere trifle.

"So are you going to transform or not?" I grumbled, making it clear that I'm not an idiot and I know why we stomped here, "how long do I have to keep your clothes?"

"You won't fall apart," Pat smiled impudently, went to the very edge, waved his arms (wings?!) and... Took off.

No, I'm not lying, he really flew! And not like all normal people fly from the towers - upside down, on the ground and - salute - but for real! For real!! flew! Like a bird! After all, he has already become a bird. I didn't even notice the transformation. In the weak light of the torches, only a large shadow flickered, and above me the kite's wings were already cutting the sky. No, damn it! And when did this bastard learn? Did you train without me? Or do positive emotions affect abilities in this way? Great power of love?

Pat, in his new image, made several decent circles over the tower, dived down, and settled down on an empty torch holder, providing an opportunity to examine himself.

"Apparently, you are counting on me to faint with delight," I said, but my lips voluntarily stretched into a smile. Pat made some incomprehensible sound and puffed out his chest smugly (even though he was a bird, it looked exactly like that, I swear).

The wind lightly ruffled the dark brown feathers, which in the low light seemed almost black. The kite came out of my friend, though still young - but not at all small, in a wingspan it will be five feet, no less. I looked at him with enthusiastic interest, but he stared at me, too, with no less. Turning to me first with one shining eye, then with the other, he seemed to be looking at me from a new side unknown to him.

"Well, you have claws, Random!" I laughed.

Pat squealed indignantly, and I added:

"And the beak is also appropriate!"

Then he spread his wings, took off, made another circle over the tower and, descending, just as imperceptibly turned back into a man. And here in front of me again is my friend - with disheveled hair and burning eyes.

"Why do you not like my beak?" Pat demanded indignantly.

"I like everyone. Actually, I'm under the impression,"I admitted, "this is cool! Really cool!

"That's a total blast," Pat agreed, "you know, you were right."

"Yes, but I really prefer not to jump from rooftops. Wings are missing. And now, maybe you will master the broom?"

"You are crazy?" he was horrified, "for nothing in life!"

"You just did laps without her at all," I reminded him. Pat shuddered in the wind and took his clothes from me.

"You don't understand," he said enthusiastically, "flying is like walking.

It's so natural when you have wings. At first, of course, a little unusual and generally so strange - the consciousness seems to turn over. Up - and you are a bird. Consciousness remains kind of human, but still becomes half bird! You know, you're so weird when you look at you with bird eyes...

"Hey buddy! When did you it?" I was amazed.

"Yes, a couple of days ago. I've been hanging around here for half the night, training, I kept thinking - I'll surprise Potter."

"That's what I noticed, your vision is tired," I chuckled, turning to the exit, "but I thought..."

"I know what you're thinking, you dirty pervert... Where did you go? Let me smoke in the fresh air!.."

"You know, Pat, we don't seem to have kites," I remarked as we descended from the tower.

"How is it - they are not found?" my friend muttered indignantly, "yes, they are found everywhere.

"Pat, have you ever seen a live kite?"

"Harry, I've lived in London my entire adult life, with the exception of a few trips to the coast. I have never seen a live cow! Only in pictures and on TV!"

"It doesn't matter," I stubbornly stood my ground, "there aren't any in England, I tell you. They are found on the continent, not here."

"Well, if not," snorted Pat, "what's in it for me? Immigrate?"

"Yes, nothing, in fact," I shrugged my shoulders, "but if you catch the eye of some curious ornithologist..."

"Then I will transform and obliviate him."

"It will be redundant. You will turn - and the poor fellow is guaranteed a heart attack."

"By the way, where did we turn?" Pat stopped abruptly.

We looked around. We went to the tower is clearly not this way - the corridor was only vaguely familiar. It seems that somehow I passed here, at the beginning of the year.

"Have you ever been here?" Pat frowned at me.

"It seems," I drawled, "if I'm not mistaken… You need to go along this corridor, turn left, go down the stairs... Yes," I said decisively, "I have been here."

"Come on"

My friend looked at me suspiciously, sighed and waved his hand:

"Let's go."

We walked down the corridor to the right turn. There was a small gallery there - the places were such that no one had gone here for years. Two stunted torches protruded from the walls.

"Maybe we can put on an invisibility cloak?" Said Pat hesitantly.

"Come on," answered recklessly. "Look, there is probably no one here at all... Exactly, I remember this place - at the end of this gallery there will be another empty portrait..."

"Why is it empty?"

"How should I know? Yes, from here to the corridor with the Room of Requirement is not far... Fack!"

I absolutely idiotically stumbled out of the blue, fell on the fifth point and, it seems, sprained my leg. The glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose. And before, I thought that only girls in high heels screwed up like that.

"What are you?" Pat, giggling, tried to lift me up. "Your legs won't hold?"

But I almost did not listen to him, but simply froze everything in the same position, that is, sitting on my ass in the corridor, located where the devil is. He froze, because nose to nose collided with a large gray rat. And she, too, froze, staring at me, and I give her hand to cut off that normal rats do not behave like that.

"A rat," Pat stated.

"Pettigrew," came to my mind immediately.

And then she stormed off. My natural move was to grab her hand, but even the reaction of the Trapper did not help me. I jumped up, pulling my wand out of my pocket, not even noticing my bad leg. And I confess - here Pat and I seem to have lost our minds. Probably, all the tension of the last months had an effect, and the idea that here, right in front of our noses, roaming Pettigrew, adrenaline (or something else...) hit us in the head.

"Where did he run?" Pat looked around frantically.

"I don't know," I snapped, twitching my wand and trying to remember at least one suitable spell, "accio..."

"Accio rat!" my friend supported.

"Accio Pettigrew!" I figured it out even better.

But it's useless. Then they would have run (in my case, limped hopping) in the direction of the alleged flight of the alleged Pettigrew. In fact, we were heading there. To an old empty portrait. Which now, for some reason, was not empty at all.

"Hey," I barked, quite ungraciously, "did you see a rat?"

There were two wizards on the canvas, wearing terribly, awfully old-fashioned robes, but not much older than Pat and me. They were playing some strange game where the pieces were small stone cubes, wooden pyramids and bone men. I took it all in at a glance. We were in a hurry, actually.

In fact, this couple of bastards were staring at us with an openly evaluating look, and were in no hurry to answer.

""Damn, did they cut your tongues out?!" I exploded.

The black-haired wizard's eyebrows shot up, and amazement showed on his bored face.

"No, did you hear?" he asked his portrait friend in a lazy voice, ignoring me.

"And what were you waiting for?" he grinned rather impudently, and, taking off his hat, tousled his dark red curls.

"Fuck you," I finally got angry, "Pat, let's get out of here. I know!" it dawned on me, "you need to go to Rem, he has a map!"

"Exactly!" he picked up, and our madness rushed on a new one.

We rushed (limped...) to Lupin's office, unconscious. Forgetting the precautions, that Filch, his tattered cat, Peeves, the teacher on duty, is wandering somewhere. Most importantly, we didn't even think that it could be another rat! We ran to Rem with one goal - to find Pettigrew on the map and catch him. Here are the moved ones!"

"Rem!" My friend banged on the door, "Open it! This is us! We saw a rat! Pettigrew is here!"

And only when something scratched and whined softly from behind the door, I shuddered, and the full moon seen today was clearly indicated in my head.

"We are cretins!" I stated, leaning my back against a stone wall, "today is a full moon!"

"That's why he's here," Pat exclaimed, "he knows that Rem is out and not following the map!"

Then I thought it was a revelation. And Rem, probably listening to our nonsense outside the door, twisted his paw at his temple and cursed us in every way. We did not even have time to look at each other and decide what to do next, because, as in any bad play, new characters appeared at the wrong time. All familiar faces...

"Are you completely out of your mind?!" McGonogall's voice rang out. "What are you doing here?!" Awesome and very original question. So that's who was the teacher on duty - there was not a drop of sleep on her face. On the contrary, she was fierce as ever. With her was the evil Professor Snape, obviously in a slight shock from the fact that we are rubbing next to a room with a live werewolf inside, and gloomy... Draco Malfoy. But then I was not even surprised. And the brat, by the way, immediately butted in:

"Now they'll say they had a date!"

We didn't even pay attention. We still had a period of madness.

"We saw Pettigrew!" we blurted out in unison.

"What?" McGonogall's eyes widened.

"Did you see Peter Pettigrew at Hogwarts?" Snape asked ingratiatingly.

In such a tone, as if asking - "what grass did you smoke for dinner?"

Malfoy just opened his mitten.

"We saw a rat!" I exclaimed with conviction.

If I were Rem, I would already be lying on my back in hysterics, and would beat my paws on the floor with laughter. Snape and McGonogall looked at each other and looked at us like we were crazy.

"Potter," the Potions Master began affectionately, "what was it about the rat you saw that made you believe it was Pettigrew?"

Such a question is like pouring a bucket of cold water on my head. At that moment, I really felt like a complete idiot. If Rem had already died of laughter there, I would not be surprised.

"And..." Pat hesitated, "did he have or did not have a claw on his paw?"

"He wasn't," I blurted out, "or was he? Yeah, I didn't even notice..."

The faces of our deans and Pat did not threaten us with anything good...

"...every time," Hermione couldn't calm down, "every time you throw something away. sort of, I think - well, can you really be even more idiots? And every time... every time you convince me - yes, you can! What is possible and not so! Well, tell me - how much more can you run into Snape?! Yes, you broke all the records! Even if you specifically went after him, it wouldn't work out so often!"

"But Hermione…" Lou tried to protest, but to no avail.

"Don't even think about defending them!" She exclaimed in the tone of a sleepy Nemesis, "do you even understand that the question of your expulsion from school will be raised at the faculty meeting?!"

"Oh, Hermione," Pat grimaced in annoyance, "no one will expel us. Snape would rather strangle himself, and Dumbledore would never allow Harry to be removed from Hogwarts at such a time!"

In vain he said it. Hermione exploded.

"So what?! Does this mean that you can continue to test the strength of the school rules?! No, don't think about it," she continued to be indignant, "I understand when it is really necessary, but like this! Nothing to do!!!"

But Pat managed to transform!

Lou came to her defense.

"Cool!" Agreed Hermione. "and it was impossible to demonstrate this during the day, for example, in the Room of Requirement?"

"True," I turned to my friend, "it was impossible?"

Pat grunted indignantly.

"Can you imagine how to turn into a room?What about flying?"

Well, he lied. The room could provide a room even the size of the Grand Opera. I would have flown happily.

"Admit it" I drawled, "just wanted to show off?"

"Yes, I wanted to show off!" still irritably confirmed Pat, "so what?"

At this point, everything was quiet at once. It was the next day, that is, on Friday, before dinner. In the morning, listening to Hermione's lectures did not work out - I was at Madame Pompfrey's. The leg was swollen by morning - so I had to hobble to the nurse early in the morning. Now we were sitting in an already chosen place by the lake. Moral teachings did not fit very well here - the sun is shining, young grass is growing, buds are blooming, birds are singing, squid are splashing...

In a word, spring.

"Hermione, are there a lot of rats at Hogwarts?" I said thoughtfully.

"I never met one," she shrugged ruefully, "but I don't even want to think that it could be Pettigrew, because... Because it's just awful!"

"If our professors weren't surprised, then there is," Pat said.

"But where do they come from?" Said Lou, "there are so many cats in the castle, Mrs Norris, McGonogall…"

I started laughing. To the uncomprehending faces of my friends who turned to me, I answered:

"When I remember how we chased this rat..."

"But I remember all those wizards in the portrait," Pat said thoughtfully, "did you, Harry, looking at them, did any associations occur to you?"

"What do you mean?" I didn't understand.

"And in this one. Didn't you notice that the one with the black long hair had a buckle on his robe in the form of two intertwined snakes?"

"No, I didn't notice," I admitted, "I only thought about the rat."

"And the redhead," continued Pat, "had a very acquaintance."

"Are you saying," Hermione rushed in, raising an ironic eyebrow, "that it was Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin? Together? In one portrait?"

"And the Great Founders hang in some dusty corner, where someone will look, God forbid, once a year at best," I supported her, "and Gryffindor has an impudent robber muzzle, and Slytherin has a purple robe and the manners of a metrosexual?"

"Why not? Who has seen them, except in the form of symbolic stern elders on the pages of textbooks on the History of Magic?"

"Why don't their portraits hang anywhere at all?" Lou asked.

"They just can't look at what they've done," I suggested.

Hermione answered something of her own, which she had somewhere and once read, Lou argued with her, Pat put forward his own versions - but I did not listen to them. To be honest, I didn't really care if those famous Founders of Hogwarts were seen or not. What bothered me much more was the thought of a rat. Yesterday's madness today, in the light of day, seemed even more stupid, but still, despite all my statements, deep inside I was sure that it was Peter Pettigrew. And since this did not bode well, I was full of bad forebodings. And since this did not bode well, I was full of bad forebodings. That is, how he was caught almost simultaneously with us after lights out. This restless albino, suffering from an attack of complication of curiosity, was honestly going to trace where Pat goes in the middle of the night. It remains to be glad that he did not follow him to the end - however, I think we would have somehow noticed him on the tower. I don't know with what professional gesture Pat broke away from the surveillance (probably just turned into one hidden passage to mow the distance), but Malfoy fell behind and lost sight of him. And on top of that, the poor fellow ran into McGonogall. Without thinking twice, he laid out what he knew - Potter and Random agreed to meet near the statue of Buckland One-Eyed and go on some secret, illegal business, and it was his duty as the headman to prevent such a terrible thing. Everything was like that, but we had already left there a long time ago, so Malfoy also flew in for slander, and the badge of the headman did not save him. It's a pity, in this school it doesn't even fly in for denunciation. McGonogall called Snape (his student after all) and here, in the midst of moralizing, Pat and I appear in the arena demanding to start searching for Pettigrew in the castle... I believe Malfoy's libel charge has been dropped. But, nevertheless, he also wandered after lights out, and also not for the first time, so he was the third person whose punishment would be discussed by the faculty meeting. At least one joy - if we are still expelled, then Draco Malfoy will also collect the suitcase for the company.

In fact, this Hogwarts teachers' coven did not take place the day after we were caught, only because a full staff of teachers was needed. And Lupin was known to be somewhat busy. Therefore, the meeting was postponed for several days. Saturday passed - Pat and Hermione went to the trial apparition test, and Lou and I were left sitting in the Gryffindor tower, because it was cold and windy. Lou entertained me by reading articles from The Quibbler aloud while I tried to write an essay on Potions with her accompaniment.

"You'd better read the textbook aloud to me," I suggested, "I almost wrote an onion crutch instead of a moonstone."

"The textbook is complete nonsense," she stated, sticking her nose into the book.

"You know, Lou," I said, leaning back in my chair, "I completely agree with you," and added hopefully, "maybe we will be expelled after all? There will be no exams... Bliss!"

"Let them expel, but only after the final match," said Ginny, who appeared, "stretch out another week, Harry."

"Yes, Captain!" I reported.

We chatted a bit more about Quidditch, next week's Slytherin match, and just about all sorts of nonsense, when an old acquaintance, Miss Vane, paraded by, as always, with meaningful glances in my direction. I, contrary to my custom, sent her the most impudent smile in response. My teenage hypersexuality has escalated, an obsession has appeared, or is it true - lately I have been constantly surrounded by girls? I feel like it's time to go on vacation to Dr. Spencer, for a detailed psychoanalysis.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ginny asked ingratiatingly.

"Have you decided to surrender to the mercy of the victor?" Lou asked sternly.

"Well, they ran away!" I chuckled, twirling the fountain pen in my fingers, "I have the last chance to get rid of it."

"And how are you going to do it?" Ginny looked at me mockingly. "Making eyes at her?"

"You don't understand anything," I smiled enigmatically.

"Harry, what are you thinking?" Lou asked with curious eyes.

"Keep it a secret," I whispered mysteriously, and in a mock serious tone, "well, really, if it doesn't work… I'll have to kill her."

Hermione passed her apparition test with flying colours. But my friend mowed a few yards - but was not very upset about this. I will never forget Rem's pale, tired face after the full moon.

"What kind of performance are you putting on in front of my door?" Lupine asked, but I'll bet anything he was hiding a smile. We had a long discussion with him, what is the probability that it was really Pettigrew and, if so, what he needed in the castle.

"The only thing Voldemort would need at Hogwarts," Lou thought, "is Harry. And if he sent Pettigrew here, then only for him."

"Forgive my arrogance," I said firmly, "but I think I can handle Pettigrew. Especially at school. The Lord would not have sent him after me. There are many other ways to get me out of the castle."

"For example?" Pat raised his eyebrows.

"For example, Pettigrew would sneak into our bedroom and conjure a portal from... Well, at least from my glasses. I would wake up, put glasses on my nose - and goodbye!"

"What a terrible scenario," Lou shuddered.

"No, that's impossible," Hermione said categorically, "you can't just create a portal like that. It is illegal."

"Especially at Hogwarts, they will immediately detect it," Rem agreed.

"When exactly will they be detected? When will the spell be cast," my friend pedantically inquired, "or when will the portkеy work?"

"When the portal worked…" Lupin began to answer honestly, and immediately exhaled noisily, "damn, you can create trouble! Let's hope it wasn't Peter. But I'll tell Albus your idea about portkеy. After the meeting."

Nobody kicked us out. Although in fact, we were on the very edge. We were just lucky that there were three of us. If only me, or Pat, or Malfoy had been caught, they would have been expelled for sure. And so it was somehow too much to expel three students from school at once, and it was unfair for one of us. Therefore, for most of the meeting, teachers discussed punishment tantamount to a misdemeanor. Someone suggested banning us from playing Quidditch for the rest of the year, but McGonogall and Snape stood on their hind legs - they didn't want to lose their Seekers on the eve of the final match. Somebody suggested that we should be stripped of our right to Hogsmeade, but others thought it was no big deal. And as a result of long disputes, the director of Hogwarts decided to leave the right to assign us punishment to himself, and promised that it would be necessarily severe and tantamount to total misconduct. This scared me the most.

Pata, here, it didn't scare me in the least. He rightly believed that Dumbledore would not come up with anything dangerous for our lives, and it was stupid to be afraid of everything else.

"Well, he will not send us to the Forbidden Forest for the night looking?" My friend said laughing.

The only question that worried him was when I would transform. I could not answer it intelligibly, because I had no particular desire to do so. Or rather, I wanted to turn, but I could not. Pat kept talking to me about some inner desire to do this, that it was necessary, as it were, feel the process of transformation and then... But it didn't work for me, and maybe Quidditch was to blame. But it didn't work for me, and maybe Quidditch was to blame. Saturday of the final match was fast approaching. The tension at Hogwarts was at its peak - it wouldn't surprise me if there were stakes. The entire Slytherin team (with the exception of one Hunter) consisted of "conservatives", and they did not hold back in showing emotions. For example, they wanted to curse me three times. Although I personally do not see any point in this. Because in order to knock a player out of action, he must at least be seriously maimed, and for this they will not be patted on the head. Just out of harm? If only, although it's still stupid... On the day of the match, sour Pat, passing me in the Great Hall, smiled wryly and said:

"I'll go and cheer for my people for a change. Although, if you throw someone off the broom, I won't be upset. At least it will be spectacular."

"What if I turn around on my own?" I inquired.

"It won't be the same the second time," he clapped me on the shoulder and headed out to the Quidditch pitch.

We went to the stadium like we were going to war.

Everyone in the dressing room, including me, was nervous - the Cup was at stake. To be honest, I was not so worried about the fate of the Cup. I was nervous, most likely for the company. I also rightly expected foul play and all sorts of dirty tricks from Malfoy - he, quite likely, was preparing to pay me off for everything today. The funny thing is that I don't even consider him my enemy, as many people think. My only enemy is the Dark Lord Voldemort, and against the backdrop of such a large-format figure, the unfortunate Draco Malfoy is not even noticeable. The stands roared louder than usual. Still, no matter what I say, from this hum the blood in the veins starts to run faster, and the level of adrenaline jumps much higher than normal. Because Pat was right - nothing compares to flying, even if you have a broom instead of your own wings.