HP: Spirit Talker

Everyone is having as much fun as they can, so I somehow overheard a conversation between two sixth year Slytherin girls discussing the upcoming strategy to get the seat next to me. After a bit of spying, I managed to find out about the school's underworld battle, which I jumped into with glee.

Now, I randomly order something special for breakfast to keep the excitement going, to keep the "warriors" interested in the battle. It's an amazing sight, especially when you know the gist of what's going on. But don't think I'm forgetting Luna or the Greengrass sisters, who always get something delicious for breakfast that the others don't, and Fleur always has breakfast in the carriage. All in all, fun, every morning when I have breakfast in the Great Hall, I have the pleasure of being cheered up by interesting performances.

I especially appreciated the cunning of a couple of fifth-year Slytherins who somehow got wind of my perfume preferences and took advantage of it. I couldn't help but appreciate their hard work.

After breakfast, Potter and I went to see Black. By the way, I'd arranged for the girls to distract Hermione, and Weasley had distracted himself by inviting his mates, so we disappeared into the crowd of people leaving for Hogsmeade. By the way, I had dyed my hair with a simple spell so that I wouldn't have to ask too many questions.

The walk to Hogsmeade passed almost without conversation, especially since we weren't walking alone. We didn't linger in the village itself. We went our separate ways at one of the crossroads, only to meet back here about twenty minutes later. Potter went to buy some sweets and cream beer (a drink I really liked, I mean, like a sweet cocktail), while I went to the grocery store, bringing my potions and everything else.

What's all this stuff for? So I remembered what Black looked like in the movie, and his character has always annoyed me with his silly recklessness, so I have some concerns. After meeting at the same intersection, we hid in one of the alleys, where I cleared the teenager of the "Tracking Charms", and they were, cast Disillusionment Charms on us, which resemble the camouflage of the alien from the movie "Predator", that is, when you move, the air is distorted and you can be quite noticeable. Next we had to hike an hour to a wide creek, almost a river, and the nearby foothills.

We stopped at a conspicuous rock, very much like a troll, which was the designated meeting point. In fact, I sensed the animagus as we approached, and then watched as it searched the area for half an hour, only to emerge from some bushes in the form of a human. A homeless man with obvious signs of exhaustion and discomfort. Well, some of my suspicions are confirmed.

— Sirius! — Harry ran over to his godfather and took him in his arms.

I froze: why would the Black Family Animagus be nervous? The teenager himself was not shy about expressing his emotions, not paying attention to the world around him, not thinking about anything, just doing what he wanted to do. Yes, that's the lack of attention and education.

Normally, I should have introduced us, explained myself more thoroughly. No, I'm sure Harry told Black about me when he contacted him, but you can't tell everything, and letters don't convey emotions very well. Black was still paying attention to the teenager, but he didn't take his eyes off me. Okay, let's not prolong this.

— Harry, I'm getting the attention of a teenager who's already starting to say something. — Your behavior does you no credit. I suggest that when we get back to Hogwarts, you think about this whole situation and put yourself in Mr. Black's shoes. You might even learn a lesson for the future. — I spoke in McGonagall's dry tone, even my lips tightening just like hers, which made them both freeze and stare at me.

— Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! — The fugitive broke into a hoarse, barking laugh. — It was like being back in school and getting told off by McGee! Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! — Potter smiled awkwardly, but, hehehe, the dog knows whose meat he's eaten!

— I was counting on that. — I shrugged, breaking out of my stern image. — You, Mr. Black, are still not free to move around and you have to be careful of every stranger, because he might either try to attack you and catch you or report you to the authorities.

And here your godson appears with a stranger, not saying who he is and even blocking the attack sector. — I gave the teenager a meaningful look and then turned my gaze back to the man, who was listening to me very attentively. — My name is Sora Hoshino, Japanese.

— Sirius Orion Black. Nice to meet you. — He grinned crookedly, though if you looked closely you could see that the man was ill, so he grimaced. — Harry wrote that you're in the same department and even the same course. I see you're older, how come you're in fourth year?

— Your powers of observation do you credit, Mr. Black. — I'm in no hurry to change to "you," and his behavior may be a test.

— I wouldn't have survived without it. — Again the wry grin stretched the pale, thin lips.

— You're right, without constant vigilance, — I grin back. — in a difficult situation. I'll answer your question this way: the headmaster of Hogwarts decided that he knew better than the people at the Ministry where I took my exams, and on his personal decision changed the recommended fifth year for me to the fourth, and I should be even older.

— And how old are you? — Surprise and interest were reflected in his face and voice.

— I'll be seventeen this spring. — I shrugged.

— Well, I guess Dumbledore wouldn't just do that... ..... — I understood the question in Black's eyes, but I didn't want to comment on it, so I just shrugged. — Okay, why did you want to meet me?

— I actually have a few questions, and your answers could lead to more questions, which means this conversation is going to be a... long one. Yeah, that's right. — I'm nodding my head, or rather playing to the audience, especially since I'm showing Potter all sorts of behavior patterns. — So I think we'd better sit down. ....

— You're a funny little guy. Where do you see chairs and couches? — Black demonstratively shook his head.

— It's not the place that makes the man, it's the man that makes the place. — I moved my index finger up and down, pointing at Black. — And you, Mr. Black, as the one who chose this place, could take care of the simplest comforts. However, — the man opened his mouth to reply, but I didn't let him. — I'm familiar with the impetuosity and carelessness of all Gryffindors. Therefore...