ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 63: The Last Prank

Hogwarts, Dumbledore's office

"What the hell are we doing here?"

Sirius Black stretched his legs in front of him, looking at the long pile of the carpet and his trousers stained in the spring mud. Opposite him was Emily Parker in an impenetrable black robe, looking so exhausted as if she hadn't slept at all and hadn't eaten a damn thing.

Dumbledore swam into the office in a long woolen robe as if he had come out of a warm bed just a minute ago, although it was almost lunch. He seemed good-natured, but Sirius saw the headmaster more than once stating the news of someone's death with a smile under the fluffy mustache, and his anxiety only intensified.

"I'd like to talk about Beata," said Dumbledore, hiding his smile like a magician hides a coin in his sleeve.

Emily jumped in her chair and stared at the headmaster. Sirius sighed and forced himself to look up. Dumbledore watched him attentively, then shifted his eyes to Emily.

"Beata Sprinkles is dead."

Just like that. With no preparatory speeches and words of comfort. Something inside Sirius jerked down. Emily's loud cry broke into his head a few seconds later, flooding his mind with a high crushing wave. Dead. A simple word like a small ball in zero gravity swung in his head, bouncing off the walls.

"She followed Emily to the Hunt. Pursued werewolves to the end. Unfortunately, she failed."

"Failed?" Emily whispered hoarsely.

"Her mother recognized the body. And her sister. And the Mother of Communities."

"Where is she?" Sirius jumped up from the chair, swayed with dizziness and almost fell on the headmaster's desk but put his hands in front of him in time. His big, shaggy head shook, bangs falling on burning eyes.

"Her mother took her, Mr. Black. They will hold the ceremony according to the rules."

"And we're not even allowed to attend it? What if this is a lie? I want to know. I want to check it myself! Beata couldn't-"

"That's why I invited both of you here. You're allowed to attend the farewell, but we must discuss all precautions to not let something irreparable to happen."

The headmaster agreed so easily that Sirius just 'turned off'. He was about to go on the rampage only to achieve his goal, if only he could see her, but when Dumbledore said yes, he had no strength left for anything else. Black collapsed back into the chair. Emily was silent. Silent and shaking.

"But I... I saw her... I... In Blackshire... And we don't even... I need to tell her... I need... But..."

The headmaster waved his hand and the house-elf who had come from nowhere rushed to Emily with a tray and a glass of transparent potion. Emily grabbed the glass and in one gulp knocked it down and then coughed hard. Not a potion, Black realized. Just vodka. Another house-elf jumped to him with another glass, and Sirius could verify his guesses.

As they parted at the gate of Blackshire, Sirius felt that Beata won't come back. But between 'not coming back' and 'dead', there was a huge difference—there was no more hope.

Sirius looked up at Parker. She cried, almost without tears. Black wondered what it was like to her. First, her psyche was damaged, then she was tortured, held captive and forced to run from the mob of rabid werewolves. And now it turns out that because of her, her only friend died. Dumbledore may have said that Beata decided not to retreat, but you don't need to be a sage to understand why she did it.

"When is the farewell?"

"Tomorrow, Sirius."

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