31 July 1993, Azkaban, cell no. 413
Despite the month of July, the stone floor and walls of the world's worst, most impregnable prison remained roaringly icy. When the north wind began, every prisoner in Azkaban tried to shrink into a lump and get caught up in the farthest corner of his cramped cell, fleeing the cold and what would follow. They always came after him...
Only a man running around in cell number four hundred and thirteen was in no hurry to give in to the despondency. For he was moved by much more powerful feelings - rage and despair.
"...according to the Egyptian authorities, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom, who were lost in the desert, could not only easily survive the sandstorm that had begun, but also came safely to Cairo, leading a real caravan of beaten and captured members of the infamous Pyramid Jackal gang, which was engaged in robbery and robbery. This is how the young people themselves commented on this event:
R.U.: The Toad of Neville was very hot in the desert, so we decided to find an oasis.
N.L.: The guide told us that this was a very difficult case.
R.U. and N.L.: But there is nothing impossible if you have the power of Youth in your heart!
R.U.: Of course, I went with Neville. After all, we are friends and eternal rivals, like Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy!
When asked what they were going to do with the award for catching dangerous criminals, the young people unanimously replied that they were using it to pay for their studies at Hogwarts, Harry Potter, who, I remind you, lost all his fortune last year because of the intrigues of Lucius Malfoy ...
Sirius threw away the newspaper with a fierce scream and it fell so that the gray light flowing out of the fenced window illuminated the printed photograph: the joyous Ronald Weasley and the rat not sitting on his shoulder.
- He's in Hogwarts! - Black moaned, grabbed the bars of the door grille, and shaken it as hard as he could. - Hey, there! Do you hear that?! He's in Hogwarts!
His voice was traitorous. Sirius may have been a little insane after all these years, but there was enough common sense to realize that his words would not be listened to. This means that he has to break out of prison. The dead and mongrel who has been spared has only one advantage over the fattened and powerful dog - she has a chance to squeeze herself through the narrow bars of the grid...
13 August 1993, Scotland, near Hogwarts
There wasn't much sacrifice this time. Bad. He wanted more. More victims. They are unlikely to be able to saturate him, but the chase will become much more interesting. However, he was already waiting for him. If the victims had friends, they would have already come. Only two victims. What a pity...
For the first time in the hour and a half he's been watching his victims, he's allowed himself to move. The victims became suspicious and began to look around frightened. Stupid victims. If you can't understand the nature of the sound around you, run. Any forest animal knows this. Still, most people are stupid to the point of insulting stupidity. He could end the game with one quick throw, but that would kill all interest. So he just went up full throttle, rolled his eyes and said loudly:
- Stupid victims, I give you one last chance to escape.
People did not fail expectations. With loud screams that could shake the whole forest, they rushed away. The game began.
Slowly approaching the victims on the right, he shortened the distance to the loud cod of broken limbs and panicking, forcing the victims to take the victims to the west.
- You can't hide from me. You're too loud and slow," he said, commenting on the victims' attempt to split up.
Ten minutes later, the heat of the victims faded a little bit. They were still struggling to escape, but they were no longer shouting - they were short of breath. What kind of small victims went missing? Having decided to cheer up the runaways, he covered his eyelids and was very close by with a sharp throw. Then he picked up a weaker victim and swallowed it. The other instantly opened his second breath.
He was pleased. The game was interesting. It was a pity, but it was coming to an end. Once on the edge, he shortened the distance again and gently vomited the victim into his back, forcing him to roll a cobbler down the hillside and rattle into the wooden wall of the cabin. After that, he slowly approached and covered his eyes, enjoying the coolness of the summer night and the worthy end of the game.
Waiting for the porch to creak under the weight of the Spider Shepherd, he spat out the first victim who had smothered him and went back to the forest, throwing him goodbye:
- Tell these two victims not to thank them and come back again. I will be happy to help their youth to get hotter. And I will have fun myself.
Hagrid watched the basilisk crawling under the Forbidden Forest and, having lifted the body (he prudently chose a relatively pure man), enquired about it:
- You, this... who are you?
- We tourists... - only the poor runner could wheeze.
- This... mother... of tourists," said Rubeus, snorkeling both men on their shoulders. - They walk around, poach, poach, the signifier... and then wash my coat with basilisk saliva... Don't look for me, guys, but I'll give you up to the Aurora. There's nothing to shake about here, m... Yeah, but how will you hurt yourself?
The "guys" didn't protest.
To be continued...