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What got into Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore's head this time was absolutely incomprehensible to all the students. However, a person with a name like that is allowed to be a bit... eccentric.
At one of the breakfasts the headmaster suddenly rose to his full height, tapped the cup with his usual gesture and loudly announced the Christmas Ball scheduled for the 23 of December, the day before winter holidays. Predatory glint in his eyes didn't promise anything good, because if an idea comes to Dumbledore's head, all those who didn't manage to escape in time are doomed.
With that tireless headmaster didn't stop and announced that dance classes were opened and that Professor McGonagall, Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey would welcome everyone. Judging by surprised faces of the professors, they heard this news for the first time.
"Since when," Peter asked dully, "do we have balls for Christmas?"
"You're wrong, little Pete," Sirius was flipping through an impressive notebook, for some reason wrapped in a black rag. "Christmas dinner is held annually."
"I'm not talking about dinner, I'm talking about the ball. We won't need to," Peter lowered his voice and finished with a slight panic in his eyes, "dance?"
"So?" Black raised his eyes in surprise.
"I'm a terrible dancer."
"It can't be so bad, Peter," James was already staring at Lily Evans entering the Hall.
"It can," said Peter. "I had four teachers, but none of them could instill me with grace, flexibility or a sense of rhythm."
"Well, you can always refuse," Sirius shrugged, ignoring Pettigrew's sad sigh. "James, stop staring at her! She'll turn you down again, we both know that."
"This time it will be by my rules," Potter said and immediately changed the subject, "Anyway, what are you reading there?"
Sirius looked around, then moved closer to his friends and said quietly, "Malfoy's diary with all his dirty deeds."
"What?!"
"Where did you get it?"
"Are you kidding?"
Black grinned, looking nervously toward the Slytherin table.
"Why didn't you say it before?" James was insulted.
"I-uh," Sirius hesitated. "I just forgot."
Remus raised his eyebrows skeptically but didn't ask anything, only shook his head disapprovingly. Peter kept looking at Sirius in surprise.
James, suspiciously watching Black, finally snorted and grumbled, "If you don't wanna talk, it's your right. But keep in mind - this is the second secret for the week!"
"And why should I report to you about every new girl?" Sirius flared, forgetting about his fascinating reading.
Remus sighed - the conversation went into an explosive channel, again for the last few days.
"This isn't some girl, Black," James said heatedly. "This is Beata Sprinkles! The only girl in my memory next to whom you look like a stubborn mule without the slightest shadow of manners and your special charm. Not only you're silent for the first time about the night spent with the girl, but you looked completely insane when you came back. I still don't understand, were you furious or ecstatic. And by the way, where's your bike?"
"James, you talk too much," Black grumbled, skeptically listening to friend's monologue.
"I just wanted to say that if I didn't know you, I'd call it love, but-"
"You're out of your mind!" Sirius immediately protested, but somehow it was very unconvincing. "Me and Beata? You-"
"What's so interesting about Malfoy's diary, Padfoot?" Remus tried to switch their attention to something less destructive.
"There's a cipher that I'm trying to solve," Black glanced at James with annoyance. Potter fell silent, snorting angrily. "But there's something interesting here."
"Like what?"
"Later," Black said, shaking his head. "It's dangerous to discuss here."
✨✨✨
We must pay tribute to Sirius Black - no matter how fiercely he denied his affection for Beata Sprinkles before his friends, he wanted to be honest with himself until the very end.
In his life, there were a lot of girls and, as it often happens with guys like Sirius Black, he couldn't be at least a bit serious towards any of them - he just didn't allow himself such a possibility. He didn't want a relationship.
When all your childhood you observe a very dubious marriage of such soft and submissive person as your father and strict, even cruel mother... What ideal of the family can develop in a naive and immature childish mind?
Sirius sometimes thought that if it was not for Walburga, father would be reconciled with his son's points of view. Perhaps, even if he wasn't put under such severe pressure, Sirius would become softer with time and return to the family, even if he kept being a "wrong child".
But now, after leaving home, fights with his mother and younger brother, after all rude, cruel words that he expressed right at the reception arranged on occasion of his birthday... There was nothing to talk about. He had burned all the bridges behind and saw no reason to look back.
And with Beata... it was easy. This was the great value of it. He didn't need to watch his manners, he didn't need to play the role of an aristocrat, which he hated to the core, even though he was soaked in it like in Bubotuber pus. He could yell at her fiercely, could quarrel with her till he turns blue, despise her in words, but he couldn't deny that after James she was the only person who saw him as Sirius Black - regular guy from Gryffindor.
Everyone else saw him as a cross between "bad boy" and "prince on white dragon". And of course, they wanted him to measure up to their ideal. Sirius was almost sure that if he hadn't been "Black the Destroyer of Traditions", they would've paid no more attention to him than to Peter.
Idea of inviting Beata to the Christmas Ball came so unexpectedly that it took Sirius a while to realize what he had just thought. It was the same feeling as when he escaped from home right in the middle of celebration, when for the first time he dared to contradict his mother when he bought his broken motorcycle. Irrational, inexplicable act, but it happens that you feel that it was right thing to do.
The only problem was somewhat strained relationship between Sirius and Beata after recent events. Since that night, they haven't spoken at all, but as always Black was hoping that the girl would forget about the fight in a couple of days.
This was one of the best of her traits - she didn't know how to hold on to anger, she was quite sincerely surprised when a person continued to ignore her or avoid even a week after the fight. Sirius was counting on this feature very much when he descended into Slytherin dungeons to make peace and invite her to the Christmas Ball.
On lower floors, it was uncomfortable and dank. Candlelight shyly shuddered because of drafts wandering along the corridors, and strange inhuman howls made him chill to the bones. The abode of cold and darkness was, perhaps, the most appropriate description of that place. Sirius shivered, wrapped in a robe and walked faster.
But can it be so simple, if it's about Beata Sprinkles?
"Yes," suddenly Beata's voice came from behind the nearest turn. "From all possible options, you're the most suitable."
"You've never honored ranks or titles, Beata," Malfoy's baritone charmed even Sirius for a moment. The girl responded with a grunt. "It's time to grow up."
"Don't tell me what to do, Lucius," Sprinkles said softly, but her voice was cold.
"As you wish, Cavendish," snapped Malfoy. "I hope you'll choose a decent outfit for the ball, appropriate for the pureblood."
"Don't doubt it, Lucius," something slipped in her words, something making Black realize - it wasn't so simple. Beata was planning something again. But the thought came and went, giving way to grumbling irritation and anger.
And at that moment he didn't care at all why Malfoy called her Cavendish. Perhaps it was her mother's pre-marital name. Or nickname. Well, in fact, what was the difference?
The portrait, judging by the sound, slammed shut, and only steps in the hallway announced to Sirius that one of the Slytherins was still outside. In a moment, he ran into Sprinkles. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, obviously about to say something, but pursed her lips and walked past Black. Her gaze was gloomy and unfriendly. A letter was compressed in her hand, crumpled and covered with coffee stains.
Beata knew that he had heard their conversation, knew how he treated her, and after all that she had done that night... Why should he, Sirius Orion Black, apologize for anything? It was a punch in the gut, and the Blacks' rage slowly woke up in Sirius. He wasn't going to tolerate such behavior.
Narcissa Black jumped out of the next turn, furtively wiping tears out of her eyes. She ran into Sirius and gasped, bouncing.
"Sirius?" almost instantly the girl returned former arrogance to her voice.
The idea arose in Black's mind.
"Will you make me a company at the Christmas Ball, dear cousin?"
Watching Narcissa's fiercely flashing eyes and a grin that twisted her thin lips, Sirius realized that he had hit the target. Someone obviously wanted to take revenge on Malfoy no less than himself on Beata.
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"How. Could. She?" Emily paced around, ignoring the indignant glances of Madam Pince and sympathetic ones of Lupin.
"Emily, I suppose-"
"She always did that. Always!" Emily threw up her hands up, continuing to pace impatiently near the table. "Give part of the diary to Black and, of course, not even say a word to me! Tell Sirius about who I am in the smallest details! Lead you to AB! I said nothing! I never even mentioned a word about who she is! Although, if there was something to hide..."
"It's not a tragedy," Remus remarked reasonably. "Hardly such a thing can be used against you, and Sirius won't do it. What did you mean when you said that-"
"Doesn't matter," Emily said stiffly. "It's not about whether Sirius will go for something or not. The thing is that all my carefully thought out plans go down the drain because of her usual tricks! And what if Malfoy sees a diary in Black's hands? What if Sirius messes things up? Have you thought about this?"
"In case of insane acts Sirius has me," Remus said with a grin. "And yet - what's wrong with Beata?"
"You can't follow him 24 hours a day!" Parker ignored Lupin's question.
"Emily, calm down, please." Remus closed his eyes, which usually meant the highest degree of irritation. "What happened to Beata?"
"Nothing interesting," Emily scowled, finally settling into a chair. "Are you going to that stupid ball? I've never been to balls. I don't even have a dress. And I don't know how to make my hair and-"
"Are you inviting me?" Remus interrupted.
Jumping from his chair, he grabbed the girl by the waist and spun her between the bookshelves and tables. She tried to free herself at first but gave up and laughed loudly.
"Yeah. But I don't know how to dance at all."
"Well," Lupin smiled, slightly embarrassed, "that makes two of us."
Madam Pince, peeking out from around the corner, glared at a couple of lovers so they immediately bounced off each other and lowered their eyes to the floor.
✨✨✨
If only Sirius knew, he probably wouldn't be able to suppress laughter and a couple of stinging comments - James Potter voluntarily decided to visit a dance club.
Well, not quite voluntarily, but after the words of one notorious Gryffindor: "I can't go to a ball with someone who's dancing like a wombat!" What was this "wombat" James had no idea, but he saw the prospect of staying at the ball without Evans absolutely clearly.
And it's not that he wouldn't be able to accept it, but girls like Lily never stay alone, and it was absolutely unacceptable for Potter to give her to hypothetical partner. Not now, when AB made him a laughingstock and Severus clearly "strengthened" his position.
In addition, Black completely unexpectedly for James refused to teach Snape a lesson. Potter was angry at first, but thought that his friend probably had a good reason to refuse and decided not to act alone for now.
The lesson was held in one of the classrooms. Tables and chairs were levitated into the next room and head of Gryffindor house even put on her parade robe on the occasion of such an important event.
When everyone gathered and it made no sense to wait any longer, McGonagall started to explain that dancing is not only the language of body, but also of soul, that the expression of one's own sensuality and passion through dance is a necessary skill for every girl and for every young man...
James wasn't listening to all subsequent words. His gaze accidentally slipped through the group of Slytherins and stumbled upon something that plunged him into fury, which he wished to express immediately through, well, not quite a dance.
Severus Snape.
He was thin, pale, wrapped in his battered old robe, which was so short that it almost opened his ankles. Next to his house mates he looked so pathetic and ridiculous that James's fury receded for a moment.
Something changed about Snape, something that caused not only respect, but also a sense of danger. Probably, it was about his posture or unusually firm look.
By the seventh year Severus Snape has finally got temper, Potter chuckled.
But now it wasn't playing into the Gryffindor's hands. After all, James knew perfectly well for whose sake Snape decided to go to so crowded place, despising the mockery and possible danger of meeting with omnipresent Marauders. He also claimed to be with one adorable ginger girl, but Potter couldn't wrap his head around it - how could that consider himself worthy of Lily Evans?
Snape, meanwhile, met his old enemy's eyes, flinched but didn't look away. James was again surprised. Determination and desire to stand until the end froze in Snape's eyes.
"If you want to ask Mr. Snape for a dance, Mr. Potter, it's easy enough to come and talk to him, rather than drill a young man with a hungry look," Professor McGonagall pursed her lips tightly. If it were not for the devils dancing in her eyes, Potter could swear that she was serious.
"I'm afraid, greatly respected," James grimaced, "Mr. Severus Snape won't approve of such bold determination from me. According to the rules of etiquette, gentleman is bound to be more gallant with a lady."
The hall was stirred with laughter, but Severus kept standing, unnaturally straightening his back as if waiting for a new punch.
Potter didn't know where he had suddenly come up with such beautifully lined and pompous words. Etiquette, gallant, lady... Yet Sirius had at least some favorable effect on him.
The lesson James remembered badly. He and his unexpected rival circled the classroom, holding their partners by the waist and drilling each other with hateful eyes. All McGonagall's comments they simply ignored. As soon as they both were at sufficient distance, they hissed at each other, each time making droll comments and trying to push the opponent.
At the end of the lesson, when McGonagall's glance turned into paralyzing one, Lily Evans unexpectedly saved the situation. She didn't participate in the rehearsal, because, as James knew, before school Lily took ballroom dancing.
Evans waltzed into the hall, as always joyful and radiating her insane solar energy, ran up to Severus and spoke loudly, "I'm going to the ball with you, Severus!" and with satisfied laugh hugged the Slytherin.
Almost entire hall shuddered, cautiously turning gazes to Potter. He stood motionless, for the first time in his life feeling himself overboard. It was so strange - as if someone playfully tossed him aside, to the very edge, dropped him to the very bottom, and now all he had to do was look upwards at the winner. And this feeling, memorized by James for a very long time, Potter couldn't forgive.
In Snape's eyes, there was a blatant triumph and mockery of the loser. Lily, noticing finally that Snape was looking somewhere behind her shoulder, also turned around and froze with uncertainty.
"I... Jim, I..." she didn't know what to say. She didn't even know why she was trying to justify herself before him.
"That's okay," Potter shook his head. "You're not the only girl at Hogwarts, Lily Evans. But," he paused, "You'll be mine anyway."
Lily unconsciously shrank. She looked cautiously at leaving Potter, trying to soberly reflect on what was happening. Was James serious or it was his injured vanity?
Snape sighed heavily, realizing that this victory again turned into a loss. Even though Lily was going to the ball with him, for some reason Severus was feeling painfully lonely again.
Evans, sensing a change in his mood, shook her head and smiled, encouragingly patting him on the shoulder.
That's okay, Snape thought to himself, we'll fight.
✨✨✨
Preparation for the ball was in full swing. Dumbledore has developed an unprecedented activity, giving jobs to all the house-elves and half of the students. The castle was being cleaned, painted, decorated, got rid of cobwebs; cakes and pies were baked, and snow-covered fields around Hogwarts were put in order.
Some student even joked that at such a pace Dumbledore would force everyone to cut the Forbidden Forest so as to create a "park ensemble" in its place. The poor fellow was promptly hissed at by classmates, fearing that if the headmaster would hear such an idea, he would take it too seriously.
Filch enjoyed the sight of the students involved in social labor. From time to time he approached one of them and poked his finger at non-existent stain. In response to an exasperated sigh, he only outstretched his hands, hinting that it wasn't his fault, it was all Dumbledore.
Flitwick didn't share the views with Argus. Disgruntled at the whole magical world, he unusually severely lectured students for not done homework, for mistake with a spell and even for sneezing during the lesson. The reason for his discontent was one simple thing - Dumbledore strictly forbade him to put the choir together, saying that he had planned the performance of other groups. And if Professor knew that he was talking about none other but Marauders, he probably wouldn't have let them out of the classroom until Christmas.
"Remus, where did you find this junk?" Sirius Black looked skeptically at the guitar in his hands.
"Do you really care? You're not going to play it. You have," Remus nodded at black instrument with cracked paint, "personal piano."
Black tilted his head and with a slight note of disdain replied, "It's a grand piano, my friend."
"What's the difference?" James quite unceremoniously entered the conversation. In his hands, he also had a guitar, but it, unlike Remus's one, was younger than hundred years old.
Black shook his head sadly, but nevertheless condescended to answer, "Where did you saw a wing-shaped piano with horizontal arrangement of strings?"
James kept looking at his friend with a very skeptical expression.
"What's the difference?"
"Oh Merlin, why do you condemn me to such merciless agony?" Sirius looked up at the ceiling. "How can you be so ignorant, Jim!"
"You see, Padfoot," Lupin said, "not all of us grew up surrounded by representatives of high society, and not all of us have had the honor to take in the arts."
"I'm talking about basic things, Moony! Peter, well, at least do you understand the difference between a piano and a grand piano?"
"Of course," Wormtail replied very grimly. "My mother convinced herself that her child should get the fullest possible education. I took music lessons, and sports, and art, and... Well, I already said about dance lessons."
"He beat you, Padfoot," James grinned.
"He still can't play like me!" Sirius was insulted.
"To be honest, Padfoot," Lupin began cautiously, stepping farther and farther away from Sirius. "Our Christmas repertoire doesn't require a keyboard player at all. Especially grand piano. So, you will perform solo, and-"
Black's eyes with every new word uttered by Lupin became more and more angry.
"We'll see," he said, throwing his hair from his forehead with his signature gesture, "whom the audience will love more!"
And went away.
"Princess," Peter chuckled, waving his wand. The drum set of impressive size, obeying his movements, soared into the air and began to slowly move around the stage.
James looked thoughtfully at the drums, "Remus on bass, I'm lead guitar..."
"Still wanna find a rhythm guitar, Prongs?" Lupin asked.
James nodded.
"Well, actually," Peter hesitated. "I have one person in mind..."
James stared at Pettigrew with interest.
"I'll talk to... them."
✨✨✨
A week before upcoming celebration, Hogwarts prepared another surprise for students, but this time - quite entertaining and not requiring special physical or mental efforts. Surprise took the form of a pretty blond woman, that appeared on the school grounds one frosty day and caused a lot of gossip.
On that day, Beata Sprinkles looked especially tense, making caustic comments in the direction of every student who didn't please her. The reason for her bad mood showed up just after breakfast, catching by surprise not only Sprinkles, but also students hurrying to the main staircase.
"Beata? Beata, wait!"
Marauders, crossing the landing, looked around: in the hall, near the doors, stood a small, pretty woman. She wrapped herself in a thin short coat and clasped big golden umbrella with a graceful curved handle. Blond hair, dressed in a neat, but slightly disheveled from a long road hairstyle, and small gold earrings completed the image.
"Is this a new student?" Black asked with a predatory grin. He immediately straightened, shook hair from his forehead and threw his branded look on the guest.
"You're incorrigible, Padfoot," James sighed, watching his best friend literally paralyzing the newcomer with his gaze. "Whoa!"
The wrath of the Gryffindor was caused by a collision with an obscure black shadow that "flew" past him up the steps.
Unknown woman glanced at the Marauders, not paying the slightest attention to Sirius, followed rapidly escaping dark figure with her eyes and suddenly exclaimed, "Beata! My dear child! Where are you going?"
Sirius froze with an amazedly embarrassed expression on his face.
"Hmm," Peter said thoughtfully, "it's probably your karma, Padfoot, to not miss a single woman from Sprinkles family."
Black only gloomily looked at laughing friends.
Meanwhile, demonstrating unthinkable wonders of acrobatic art, incredibly deftly for her coordination and well-known clumsiness Beata jumped from the railing of one moving staircase to the railing of the nearest. Sirius, perhaps, could've repeated Beata's maneuver if a pack of Dementors were chasing after him, Filch and angry mother in addition. But to overcome the distance of three meters in the usual situation on moving objects and without any preparation... Well, he wasn't so confident in his abilities.
A pretty stranger, or rather Beata's mother, already pushed through the crowd of students, knocking them out of the way with a completely inhuman force. Certainly, the similarity between mother and daughter, despite the first impression, still existed. And the expression on woman's face was so sad and dreary that it got even Sirius.
"Mrs. Sprinkles!" Dumbledore called. "Please wait a second!"
The woman immediately turned around and rushed in the opposite direction. Students hastily shrank into the wall in order to avoid a second meeting with formidable mother of the Slytherin prefect.
"Albus!" she exclaimed. "Albus, she doesn't want to talk to me again! She didn't answer any of my letters!"
Her voice was sensuous and captivating. It sounded doomed, but Black was almost sure that those words held much more of artfully concealed falseness than sincerity.
"What a fragile and wonderful woman," James grumbled, rubbing his bruised shoulder. "Don't you wanna meet your future mother-in-law, Padfoot?"
Sirius coughed from such an offer and waved his hands.
The guest, in the meantime, grabbing the headmaster by the hands, was telling him something with a passion.
"Albus, I... Albus, she refuses to talk to me again! I want to see Amelia immediately! Perhaps, at least she-"
"Serena, calm down, my dear, I beg of you. I think there is no need to look for Miss Parker, when three steps away from you is Miss Sprinkles' boyfriend."
Dumbledore smiled and nodded toward Marauders. His glasses gleamed slyly, and the headmaster stared straight at Sirius, leaving not the slightest choice.
"You're screwed, mate," James smirked, watching as the face of stunned Black was stretching out, revealing with each second the next gradation of desperation and pain that had overtaken him so suddenly.
He avenges me, Sirius thought sadly. This is the end.
Why, Mr. Black, headmaster's familiar voice sounded in Sirius's head, it's just the beginning.
The guy stared at Dumbledore in amazement, trying to understand what was happening, but he only continued to smile serenely.
"Boyfriend?" Serena asked in surprise. Her face at once lost all her frustration and bitterness. "Beata's?"
"See," James snorted, "She also thinks that it's hard to believe."
"What is this greybeard thinking?" Sirius hissed under his breath. "Old wingman!"
"You better be quiet, Padfoot," Peter whispered cautiously. "Otherwise, he'll arrange your marriage."
"Wormtail!" Potter grinned. "Don't overdo it, Padfoot is already shaking."
Sirius didn't feel very well. Desperately trying to figure out what he should say to Beata's mother in order to refute the dirty rumors, and how to behave so as to save his face, he completely overlooked the fact that Mrs. Sprinkles, having again developed extraordinary speed, had already overtaken Black on the landing.
For a moment they looked each other in the eye: Serena's eyes were grasping, incisive and looking right through him, Sirius's gaze - alert, agitated, but filled with gloomy determination.
Upon closer examination of Serena's face, he noticed carefully disguised small wrinkles near her eyes and lips and a slight glint of gray hair. Black, who at first shrank because of incomprehensible to himself fear, logically reasoned that he - a hereditary pureblood aristocrat with excellent upbringing, appearance and with a fully developed intellect - shouldn't be afraid of cunning bearded old men and nervous blond ladies.
The woman opposite, apparently, thought about the same, as she smirked and held out her hand to Sirius as if for a handshake. Sirius, with a cheeky smile, turned Mrs. Sprinkles' hand upside down and, leaning forward, kissed it as a true, well-mannered gentleman supposed to.
By sly sparkling eyes of the woman, he realized that this round was counted in his favor. James, who was watching this picture, raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised by the behavior of his friend.
"I didn't expect," Serena said, smiling like a cobra, luring the victim into the trap, "that my daughter will have a boyfriend from such an... ancient and respected family. Mr. Sirius Orion Black, if I'm not mistaken?"
Black stared at her in surprise, but then immediately pulling himself together, calmly nodded and replied, "It's nice to see a person so knowledgeable in all possible intertwining of bloodlines of wizards."
"It gives me pleasure to watch the life of these pompous birds," Serena snorted.
Black didn't expect to hear that and was forced to admit that this woman again managed to surprise him. Apparently, it was the family trait.
"Especially since I heard about you more than in detail - all high-born families literally boiled discussing the disgrace of honorable Walburga, or rather, your escape from home during your birthday."
Technically, what Serena said now would be enough for a couple of calls to a magic duel. Disregard for the oldest of pureblood families, a clear insult to one of the most respected witches of ancient Black clan and the accusation of her eldest son in shameful escape and denial of family traditions.
Black looked thoughtfully at Serena and, as if nothing had happened, replied, "Commendable honesty, Mrs. Sprinkles. But let me correct you - it was not an escape, but a perfectly logical desire of an almost adult wizard to start an independent life away from mother's house."
"Yes, yes," Serena nodded. "I'm sure that the guests who watched the broken window and the bike flying into the sky thought the same. Forgive me for my tactlessness, I completely forgot to suggest such option."
Her eyes were laughing and even Black could hardly hold back a smile.
"Why, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything!" he tried desperately to suppress laughter.
"Would you, in that case, find my unreasonable daughter, Mr. Black?"
"I'm afraid that's not possible, Mrs. Sprinkles. Your daughter doesn't want to be found. At least, by me," he chuckled, meeting Malfoy's eyes.
The woman looked at him in surprise, then looked at Lucius and sighed in a particularly doomed way.
Dumbledore, who watched this conversation with a smile, realized that it was time to take matters into his own hands and turned to the guest, "Let me take you to the guest room, Serena. Or do you want to have dinner?"
"Perhaps, a couple of roasted wings, a bowl of soup and a few eclairs won't hurt. And it would be nice to add fried potatoes..."
Eyes of students widened with each new dish, which thin, frail Mrs. Sprinkles wanted to taste.
"Well, now we know whom Beata takes after," James commented cheerfully. "And... maybe you'll finally tell us what happened?"
"Nothing," Sirius snapped. "It's just that I made a mistake again."