The bulldog settling at Sybill's feet on her own bed, strangely enough, caused absolutely no outrage in the temporary owner. Even managed falling asleep surprisingly easily and slept beautifully.
But woke from someone's warm breath on her neck and light touch of lips. She sighed and half-opened her eyes, already knowing what—more precisely, who—she'd see. Yeah, this was definitely not a dog if he'd even lit the fireplace. Sirius Black, cleanly washed, fed since evening and also apparently excellently rested, slyly squinted at her from under long dark lashes. She'd want such. Though why would she need them?
The man smiled insolently in her face and continued exploring her body with his hands everywhere he could reach. Sybill sighed. Dog.
"You still spent too much time as a dog," she noted, not bothering with "good morning," screams, hysterics and other nonsense supposedly required of a decent girl discovering a barely-known man in her bed come morning.
Black stopped his advances and looked at her surprised.
"Something wrong?"
"Of course, if you're throwing yourself at such a bag of bones." She gestured at her skinny body, straightened her almost completely disheveled nightshirt and covered herself with the blanket. The room was still quite cool.
Sirius froze from unexpectedness. But then carried on about graceful girls and tired unfortunate prisoners languishing in their absence.
Merlin, what nonsense... and he's saying this—to me! Should I be offended or what?
"You know, Black... think a blow-up doll would help you better than me right now."
Here he seemed completely stunned.
"How do you even know about such things?"
Sybill snorted.
"I studied only a year below you, by the way. So I've been a big girl for quite a while. And what exactly I've seen and how—none of your business, Black."
"Did I ever manage to offend you?"
"Me?" She laughed, a bit hoarsely, a bit bitterly. "No, not me. There were enough other examples to stay far from you."
"But I never... I never did anything they didn't want themselves!"
"That's exactly the point. You're a fool, Black."
"And now the only woman who agreed to shelter poor Tramp refuses me... Why, Sybill?"
"Well, I'm not throwing you out yet. But had thoughts, won't lie. I haven't been a woman for a long time, hmm, Sirius, since you decided to move to first names. I feel your hands, your breath, lips... but feel nothing about it."
"That's... how, sorry?"
"What did I say that's so unclear?" Sybill was really starting to boil. She'd never had to talk about this with anyone. Knew how to masterfully avoid such topics. But now... What, should she urgently run from her own bed? That's too much. He wants to know? Fine. Let him blame himself.
"I'm almost not even human anymore. I'm just a voice and these damned eyes that see too much. I haven't felt anything in a long time except fear. Fear and exhaustion. Calm down, I'm not afraid of you, Black. Only a tiny part of me that still clings to this stupid world is afraid. And of only two things—new prophecies and the Grim. You know, you look alike when you're that other dog. Only you're not actually scary, I already understood. And he probably isn't either... Somehow I'll know for sure."
"You... are you sick?" Sirius got worried and surprised himself. After all, who was she to him? But for some reason everything connected with her mattered.
Desire receded like water at low tide. For some reason this woman troubled him. Strange, ugly, roughish despite all external fragility. With a drunken and completely unmelodious voice. Straightforward as... such people simply didn't exist. Her brittle, feigned indifferent voice strangely scratched something deep inside. Bitter words dug in like splinters. But he couldn't not listen. He wanted to understand.
And he got it fully. Her gift of foresight, gift-curse... Gift burning alive. Ability to become whoever she looked in the eyes and experience the most terrible thing awaiting them in life. Now he understood why in all stories seers were hermits. Merlin, who thought of dragging her to school where there were so many eyes?! What for? From such a thing someone goes mad, someone ends life themselves, and someone quietly burns out like her. Quietly and terribly.
"And it's not terrible at all. Exhausting, that's true. And why quietly? I'm something like the resident panicky charlatan here," she smiled.
"Can you read minds?"
"Don't you notice when you start thinking aloud? Oh right, sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"Solitary cell syndrome. Was it quiet there?"
Sirius shuddered. She'd seen that too...
"Yes. Very."
"Sorry," she repeated.
"It's fine. Maybe somewhere there are specialists who know handling a gift like yours? Can't just..."
"I don't know. Nobody found any for me."
"Who searched?"
"Parents, relatives... Spent the whole inheritance on it. The headmaster, my head of house—when this fucking gift started manifesting. People like me apparently are born extremely rarely. Personally I think they're born for nothing at all."
"How can you say that?"
"Because you're all idiots. Because this is the stupidest and most absurd gift of all possible."
"But why?"
"And why don't any of you even try fixing anything?" She suddenly broke down almost to a scream. The first time saying words aloud seemed like scab tearing from a wound. "Why does everyone obediently nod and go where things will be worst for them? What's the point of learning then, what's the point of trembling over prophecies?! Why do they ask me? What's the point of all my words, what's the point—of me?! Miserable morons!"
"But can... How can anything be changed?"
Sybill groaned.
"It's very simple! I see what will be if I look at a person here and now. And if you don't like what will be, change what you're doing. Here and now. Change yourself. Your behavior. Think about someone or something differently. Teach yourself to be different. Oh my Merlin, you're all such idiots!"
"Forgive this fool," Sirius buried his head in the hem of her nightshirt as soon as she lowered her legs from the bed.
"Don't get in the way," Sybill calmed as quickly as she'd gotten worked up. Moved his head to the blanket and stood. "Though I only have one lesson today and it'll be after lunch, it's time. And you can keep lying around of course. Just be so kind as to transfigure yourself some other bed afterward. I like this one more."
"Me too," Sirius didn't abandon hope. Sybill attracted him more and more despite everything she'd told. Or maybe precisely because of it... He'd never wanted hugging someone to shield them from... the world?
"And what's stopping you making a copy?" She crossed her arms on her chest.
"How smart you are!.."
"Disgustingly so," she nailed it. "For a long time now. And that's not a joke."
Sirius sighed. He definitely hadn't met such girls before. Taciturn. Calm. Ironic. Unfeeling?.. Nah. This was different. Completely different.
While she washed up, he dressed in carefully cleaned clothes. And thought, thought, thought...
Washed Trelawney looked like a complete girl.
"Listen," Sirius was suddenly struck, "what if someone tries... well, changing... Could that help you?"
"No idea."
"What about St. Mungo's?.."
"They even took me to the continent. This isn't curable, you know."
"It's so wrong: a gift and at the same time deadly disease."
"Life is also quite a deadly disease. You aren't aware everyone eventually dies from it?"
"You talk about it like that..." He'd actually never thought about such things. And couldn't argue—what could he say?
"If you'd seen all this in the eyes of every child you teach lessons to for over ten years, you'd talk differently."
"You... see everyone's death?"
"Mostly. Sometimes major troubles. And what leads to them."
Merlin... How does she even endure this? How hasn't she gone mad yet?
"But if someone still tries changing and changes their future?"
"Nobody's ever done that. What can I tell you?"
Sirius stood and raised his hand. Even if it held no wand...
"I, Sirius Orion Black, swear to change my life... change myself. Swear to do everything so the prophecy given to me won't be fulfilled. And may this vow help me! And may it help her who spoke my prophecy," he finished quietly but confidently.
She stared at him wide-eyed. Really? What was he even saying? Before her mind's eye images started rising again one after another... These were somehow better.
"Accept it. Please accept. Sybill..."
"I, Sybill Edda Trelawney, accept the vow of Sirius Orion Black. And may it... help him," she sighed. "And why do you need this?"
"Don't know. Just it'll be right this way."
"Well, let's hope dog instinct doesn't fail," Trelawney winked.
Amazing girl. No sniffles, no pathos, no... nothing at all characteristic of any girls he'd known.
"You wear glasses to... not see?"
"Congratulations, starting to think," she tore away from the book she was copying something onto parchment from.
"Where is your family? Relatives? Do they live in London?"
"Why necessarily London? Wales. No, I don't communicate with them and am not going to explain anything to you. Let me work already."
She bent over the table. Sirius sat beside her, watching her surprisingly even, slightly sharp handwriting lay down in neat lines.
"What's this?"
"Lesson plan. Severus helped me with this so much. All this time I wasn't conducting lessons but poking around corners like a kitten. Giving children tea and making them write all sorts of nonsense. Just to fill time. And he..."
"Snape?!"
"What are you surprised about? You know, I love him."
Sirius choked on air. Somewhere in memory was something connected with Snape. Something not bad. Maybe even useful. But...
"What's there to love him for?! He..." Seeing her eyes, he choked on the prepared tirade and fell silent.
"He's the only one who always demanded only from himself," Trelawney looked slightly to the side, smiling sadly at some memories. "He was angry, unhappy. He hated it. But... he always started with himself. And never pitied me. Simply take and help when it is needed."
"Snape, then..."
"Sirius, you still haven't understood? I. Am. Not. A. Woman. If I love... it means I'll try not looking this person in the eyes. And that's all. Listen, maybe I should go to him for Polyjuice—you were much calmer as a dog!"
"Don't leave... Let me just turn. You won't be scared anymore?"
"Fine, go ahead."
The Irish wolfhound settled near the fireplace and humbly laid his head on his paws.
Maybe my dog's smarter than me, Sirius thought. At least he definitely never let anyone down yet. And Harry liked playing with him. With me... I was a good dog, right?
"And still a bulldog in this room would be..." Sybill hesitated. More appropriate? More compact? Less noticeable? How to say it? Any dog in her room looked quite wild. "I'll still go for Polyjuice. Just in case."
The dog sighed sadly and thumped his tail on the carpet in agreement.
***
In the morning nearly the whole house sympathized with Harry Potter, who'd last night courageously rescued his school bag from the claws of the most malicious professor. Naturally got caught and reaped accordingly. Only Hermione looked displeased, as befitted her. But Harry still approached her closer—she frowned too expressively.
"Don't overact," she whispered. "Look, the Weasleys are already planning how to prank the professor."
"Damn," Harry got puzzled but instantly found the way out. "Then I'll take this on myself!"
And until lessons started whispered with the twins and pleased-as-a-python Ron about something.
After lessons Harry barely waited for the appointed time and happily rushed to the dungeons. Only didn't think about possibly meeting any Slytherins. For example, Malfoy, whom he nearly crashed into in his hurry, turning the corner.
"Where're you off to, Potter?"
"Hurrying to detention, Malfoy!" The-Boy-Who slapped his shoulder and tore toward his head of house's office.
Draco stood in the corridor for several minutes. Information didn't fit in his head. Potter flying to detention with Snape practically skipping with such suspiciously pleased expression...
He's planning something! Draco realized. The Weasleys whispered with him at breakfast, exactly! Need urgent warning! And tore after him.
And since during working hours the head's office was open to all Slytherins, he flew in without knocking. And froze, looking at Snape and Potter peacefully chatting over some parchment. The ability to speak didn't return immediately. Which of course the professor took advantage of.
"Malfoy, there's one question. So it's even good you came so timely. How do your parents feel about dogs? Hope this isn't a family secret?"
Potter meanwhile whispered something over the parchment. But had to answer. So unfortunately he couldn't hear anything.
"Uh... If you deign explaining what you need this information for, I'm ready providing it," Draco held on with all his might.
If he told, would they at least explain something?
"Fine, if you intend bargaining, I'll ask your father," Snape was impenetrable. Though as always.
"We have greyhounds," Draco decided "cracking." "I heard Father sometimes takes them for some strange hunt... But that's not at the Manor. Our kennels are near the hunting lodge."
After all, the very existence of these two conspiracies can already be considered exclusive information. This is a bomb! Something's getting to me slowly today... Malfoy yawned once, twice...
He didn't even feel four hands catching him at once and simply, Muggle-style, dragging him to the sofa.
"That was nonverbal Somnus, right Professor?"
"More precisely, Somnus cito minima."
"Will you teach me?"
"Harry, about that later. He'll sleep five minutes, no longer. What do you suggest doing?"
Potter sighed. Obviously the teacher had thrown him another puzzle. But solving it—especially with the "main object" peacefully snoring in the neighboring chair—turned out not so simple. He already related to Draco as his own. Opponent, but—his own.
"Extracting memory would be most reliable. But that'll leave a trace. So lead to you. You don't need conflicts with the Malfoys."
"Absolutely. Continue, Harry."
"Then we'll have to somehow... bring him in? Ah! Got an idea! Black's supposedly a Death Eater. Malfoy sort of is too, right? So he can help Sirius, considering him 'one of ours.'"
"Don't forget he's his wife's cousin. Can't exactly call Lord Malfoy henpecked. But he usually listens to his wife. And he was planning in a couple days to go to the continent on some business."
"Really? So you meant him? Eh, I need to somehow figure out all these family relationships. So little time!"
"I suppose you'll learn a lot that's curious, Harry. But Malfoy isn't our only option. Remember that."
"So Draco can be sent into his own family to find out his parents' attitude toward Black. He'll consider himself initiated into the secret... And I'm on the Death Eaters' side then?!"
"Why? You're simply on your godfather's side. You have nobody else. And don't forget making big sad eyes. Just don't overdo it. Yes, like that." Snape smiled with the corner of his lips, looking at Harry's face. "So, task clear?"
Snape stuck a small statuette in Malfoy's hand, looking expressively at Harry, and turned away, tossing:
"I'm off to the headmaster." And only the door slammed.
"Huh?.." Harry swallowed. First time left independently dealing with a situation. This was exciting—the professor trusted him! He looked once more attentively at Malfoy, at the small bronze griffin figurine and smiled.
"Finite Incantatem," he waved his wand toward Draco and quickly hid it in his pocket.
He opened his eyes and looked around puzzled.
"Where's the professor? How?.."
"Man, Malfoy," Harry looked at him with the most honest eyes. "Grabbing whatever. Especially in the head of the house's office."
Malfoy contemplated the statuette some time.
"Why did I do this?"
He's acting strange, Harry was surprised. Sleepy probably.
"You're asking me? And the headmaster summoned Professor Snape."
"Long ago?"
"Almost right after you fell asleep. About five minutes ago."
"Why didn't you wake me immediately?"
"You're just so... cute when you sleep," Potter laughed. "Don't perform, don't nitpick. Beautiful. Sat and admired. Big deal, a few minutes."
Draco wanted to hit this smartass in the forehead or at least saying something caustic. But nothing came to mind. Plus he remembered why he'd come. And now he intends to find out as much as possible. Fighting with Potter, especially in the head of house's office... Hmm. Plus Potter suited questioning much better than the office's owner. Draco perfectly imagined what Snape would tell him if he dared asking a couple questions that didn't concern him at all. But it seemed he'd asked something about dogs himself...
"Potter, what were you saying about your attitude toward pets?" He decided to start from afar.
"I'll tell, but only if you swear on your magic to keep the secret!" Potter made big eyes.
Malfoy swallowed. He didn't want to swear. But learning an obviously not-small secret... Look how Potter's green eyes sparkle! He bit his lip.
"Can I consult Father?"
"Rather Mother. She was Black by maiden name, right?"
"You mean..." His heart plummeted from anticipation. Really?!
"The vow, Malfoy."
***
After everything he'd learned, Draco sat puzzled for a long time, secluding himself behind his own bed's baldachin. He... to be honest, sympathized with Potter—grindylow bites that scarhead—and still couldn't figure out how everything had turned out. Escaped Sirius Black, Death Eater and criminal, turned out to be Potter's magical godfather. So... he couldn't have betrayed the Potters! Plus this was Mum's cousin. And Draco perfectly remembered what was said about him at home.
Yes, Draco Malfoy had one weakness, which Father encouraged. He adored secrets. Result—by thirteen he'd learned pretty well to eavesdrop and, most importantly, not get caught. So he had information about the wayward second cousin uncle. And now he was solving a difficult task—namely, how to get certain information to Mother. She'd definitely figure it out and bring Father in. He'd be surprised!
Clear why the head of house listened to Potter instead of making him scrub tons of laboratory dishes. He was also the Dark Lord's follower. So... No, but how could he at least pass a note? Owl post excluded. Too unreliable. Even Malfoy owls and eagles would never give letters to strangers' hands, knocking them down with a spell and immobilizing—piece of cake.
Floo conversations were also easy eavesdropping on. So somehow he had to get home. But Draco had absolutely no idea how to do that. He'd already cursed himself a hundred times for not taking the communication mirror—he didn't want, you see, extra control. If only he'd known this would happen, would never have refused.
***
Harry at this same time was conducting quite lively correspondence with his cousin, sitting in the farthest corner of the school laboratory while the professor hissed at the Weasley twins, Longbottom and some Hufflepuff guy jointly scrubbing laboratory dishes. And if only cauldrons—with them everything was more or less simple. But vials with narrow necks were quite a trap.
Harry frowned. Detention would last long. So he'd have very little time left for communicating with Snape. At least they'd managed to discuss everything before punished students came, when the professor returned and sent Malfoy off. And simply excellent that he'd supported Harry's idea to still try involving if not the Dursleys, then Aunt Marjorie—definitely.
Over poor Sirius Black's head were gathering quite large clouds. And though they were quite safe for his life, Harry wasn't sure what would affect his godfather more strongly: Aunt Marge or dementors. He hoped for one thing: running away again would definitely not be worth it to his godfather. Aunt knew how to discipline...