Sirius's son

Hogshead

"NO!" Harry, Eliza, and Ron said at the same time

"I'll rather shout in front of Umbridge about this idea rather than to again step foot on The Chamber of Secrets " Ron shuddered.

"Oh come on you didn't even see the Basilisk." Rigel retorted. "And it's dead anyway, what's a big bad dead snake going to do?" 

Once Rigel was inside the bar he noticed it was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and the very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be earthy, though as he stepped onto it he realized that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.

" No wonder it's empty " Rigel muttered under his breath looking around the bar.

There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth(Rigel suspected it as firewhiskey). Two figures shrouded in hoods sat at a table in one of the windows; Anyone might have thought them dementors if they had not been talking in strong Yorkshire accents; in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes. They could just see the tip of her nose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly.

"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"

"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," Eliza said quietly.

"And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out-of-bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."

"No," said Harry dryly, "especially as it's not exactly a homeworkgroup you're planning, is it?" 

The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard. He was tall and thin with blue eyes. If it weren't for his scowl, Rigel would've mistaken the man as Dumbledore.

"What?" he grunted.

"Five butterbeer, please," said Hermione.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar. "ten Sickles," he said.

"I'll get them," Rigel said, passing over the silver.

The four retreated to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around, while the man in the dirty grey bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.

"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhisky —"

"Ronald Weasley don't you dare!" snarled Hermione.

"Alright alright!" Ron said raising his hands

Rigel wrenched open the rusty top of his butterbeer and took a swig enjoying it.