Remembering Me

There was little new news or action, and the meeting ended quickly.

In order to celebrate the success of the last operation, even Bob and Kingsley, who were always in a hurry, were left behind for dinner after the meeting.Molly ran into the kitchen every few mouthfuls to bring out another plate of food; the men poured glass after glass of butterbeer and made fun of Moody, who still insisted on drinking only from his own flagon; They gathered together to enjoy Tonks's face-changing performance, and laughed because of the funny changes in her facial features.

Sitting at one end of the table, looking at the busiest corner and smiling from time to time, I found that someone was doing the same thing as me - the word "discovery" may not be accurate, since I came to the same room with her, my attention The force hardly ever left her.

"You know Tonks?" I broke the silence of sitting across the table.

"Yeah." She looked around, picked up a spoon and filled herself with some tripe.

silence.I decided to keep trying.

"So... you're a Hufflepuff?"

"No, I'm a Gryffindor." She tasted the tripe, thought for a while, then quietly pulled out her wand and said "Move the salt shaker", and the salt shaker in the center of the table circled around the three plates and moved towards Don Kex's chair flew behind.

"Look! I'm a bird..." Tonks' nose changed into the shape of a bird's beak, and he flapped his arms like flapping his wings.

Snapped.The salt shaker was slapped and flew out of the intended orbit, and it hit Bob, who was about to raise his glass, on the forehead impartially.

There was a sudden silence at the table, but when Bob caught the salt shaker with his backhand everyone started laughing, even Tonks, who rushed over to apologize - knocking over a jug of pumpkin juice in the process - laughed. I can't stand up straight.In this atmosphere, Bob was able to maintain that calm expression, took a look around with the salt shaker, fixed his eyes on Jessica who hadn't retracted his wand, and threw it over with his hand.

"Thanks, Howlett," Jessica said.

Bob nodded and looked away.Jessica lowered her head and began to add salt to herself, and I noticed that Kingsley had a strange expression, which was unusual for him.

Moody's false eye made another full circle, settling on the smoked fish in front of him, and judging from the reaction to his next bite of it, no one here would die of smoked fish poisoning tonight.

As Jessica took her first few mouthfuls of tripe, I kept trying to find something to say among the tables, chairs, cups, plates, and walls until she dropped the spoon and propped her forehead to her forehead and started laughing silently.

"For the Hell'ssake." She shook her head. "I'm 4 levels higher than Tonks. I know her because I met her in the bathroom one morning, and it scared me a lot."

The face of a gypsy is always more suitable for a mysterious and indifferent look. When you look at Jessica, you can easily imagine her playing tricks like tarot cards. How funny?

Okay, a little weird, but surprisingly good looking.

"Oh, please." She pursed her lips, showing a helpless expression, "Sir."

I blinked and found myself staring at her in a daze again.The visions I had with her on these few occasions were so thin that I could completely forget them, and I decided to take this as a good omen.

"What are you doing when you don't go back to the dormitory in the early morning?" I asked.

"Do a little bit of this, a bit of that." She seemed relieved to finally be able to communicate with me normally. "You know, there are always some people who don't follow the rules."

"I'm sure I have a deep understanding of this." I found that once I started it was a lot easier than I thought. "And, 'For the Hell'ssake'?"

"Muggle expression."

"I don't hear them say that very often."

"Oh, well. My Muggle expression." Jessica shrugged and grimaced. "My father hated me saying that, so—"

"—and that became your catchphrase."

"Obviously."

"Then this is a pure witch expression."

We laughed at the same time, but the atmosphere of the restaurant made it less abrupt.Immediately, I found that she stopped laughing, and the way she stared at me gave me a sign of relapse, so I chose to continue the topic.

"You sound like a nice girl."

"How should I put it? It's about as far away from my father's ideal daughter as Fudge and Dumbledore." She poured herself and me some butterbeer.

"God bless him," I said, glad to see her amused expression.

"He's convinced God always has been like this, though the great brother seems to have dozed off while making his daughter."

"He naps a lot, you should have seen my mother's face when I put up bikini girl posters in my room."

"I remember us being a bunch of people who didn't seem to belong to God. My father always believed that I was a witch because he didn't go to church often enough." She propped her chin thoughtfully, "But really. Yes, bikini girl?"

"That was the first thing I did after I learned how to permanently paste the charm." I drank butterbeer, "My mother asked me why I posted such nasty things, and I said to her: 'You know, Mom. As a teenage boy, I thought I should be entitled to some benefits.’ She screamed hysterically and nearly set my room on fire.”

"Ouch."

"A few days later, my mother broke open the door of my room again. As soon as I saw the poster in her hand, I raised my hands and promised that 'I never told my father the source of the goods'. She was almost green at that time. and said 'Don't be stupid, I know you sent this to Regulus' - Regulus is my brother. I said 'Oh my god, little Reggie bought it? It's not good. He There is still some distance from this age, I shouldn't watch these'."

"Then?"

"And then I got the right to cleanse my ears in the basement for a few days. Usually the place is the wine cellar, but the last time they did it I drank myself into a St. Mungo's. They wouldn't dare take the rest of the treasures Wine is at risk.”

"The bikini poster, the youngest son of an unconventional wizarding family, sounds like a surprise." She raised her eyebrows. "I can understand why you're so pampered."

"And it was served at the dinner table on the big day when my Aunt Deruella brought her cousins ​​back to the old house, yeah." I uncorked my third butterbeer, "Since I made it My dear Bella and Cousin Cissy acquiesced in giving me abstention from those revolting parties after I made my darling Bella and Cousin Cissy afro with pyrotechnics."

"Oh." Jessica touched her bottle to mine with a crisp ding, "and guess what, the best part about being a witch is that I don't have to go to church anymore. When I was 13 I Dad made one last effort and I asked him if he wanted to tie me up and burn me with his brothers and he nearly had the worst stroke ever."

I looked into her eyes and she looked into mine.

"So, to all the parents out there who don't want to accept that?" I said.

"To the parents," she continued, lifting the bottle slightly.

I didn't laugh as I drained the butterbeer from the bottle, despite the unmistakable hilarity of what I'd just been talking about.I tried to remember the people who had raged because of me, dark-haired blurred faces flashed past, and finally I was frozen in the picture of mad, drooling, screaming and cursing at the door of the old house.My blood relatives, connected by blood but never understood each other, this is the last impression they left on me.