Itachi didn't remember falling asleep: the last thought before sleep about whether he would have a brother in this life was quite depressing. But this time, sleep didn't bring him his long-awaited rest. Instead of peace and quiet, he was awakened by an unbearable, deafening noise.
He opened his eyes abruptly and immediately realized what was going on. It wasn't just the noise of his neighbors, but the noise of the entire Slytherin faculty. The dungeons had been in chaos since morning, and the noise was so loud that it seemed as if the walls were shaking.
Rapturous shouts, loud conversations, slamming doors, and even sounds like broomsticks clattering could be heard. It seemed that all the Slytherins were full of anticipation for the upcoming Quidditch game, and the entire school was gripped with Quidditch fever.
He groaned, trying to pull the blanket over his head, but it didn't help. The noise was everywhere penetrating through the walls and, it seemed, even into his ears.
"Damn it!"
"Don't they realize there are people who want to sleep?"
Used to silence in the past, he didn't understand such a pointless waste of energy. Here, however, noise was the norm, and it seemed to be everywhere. Everyone was excited, even his classmates' animals were like wild animals that had been let out of their cages.
He burrowed deeper into the blanket, but the noise only got louder. He lay like that for a few minutes before he realized he needed to get up. It seemed silence was a pipe dream tonight.
He needed to get out of this chaos and find some peace.
He walked to the door with his hand on the knob and prepared to step out into this noisy and disorderly world. He knew that this day was definitely not going to be a peaceful one.
He walked to the door with his hand on the knob and prepared to step out into this noisy and disorderly world. He opened the door and... froze.
What he saw was like a sea of green. It was as if all the students had conspired together. They were dressed head to toe in Slytherin colors. Scarves, flags, hats. Many were holding miniature brooms and flags with the Slytherin emblem on them.
Some were shouting loudly, some were laughing and pushing, but they were all in one accord, united in their desire for their team to win. Itachi looked at them with surprise and displeasure. "Is the whole school going crazy over this Quidditch thing?" - he thought.
He felt like a complete stranger in this environment. He was like a lone black stone in a sea of green.
Itachi decided it would be best to sneak into the Great Hall and eat, hoping that at least there he could find some peace.
Breaking out of the general Quidditch madness, Itachi made his way to the Great Hall, where he hoped he could find peace. But even there, it was impossible to escape the noise of the past. Green scarves and flags hung everywhere like festive decorations, an annoying reminder of the upcoming game.
Exiting the dungeons, Itachi ran into Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin team. Flint, shining like a polished medallion, was dressed in full Quidditch uniform. His teammates crowded around him, discussing strategy and training results. Noticing Itachi, Flint raised an eyebrow derisively.
"Ah, Itachi," Flint stretched out, his voice full of superiority. "Did you really decide to join us at the last minute? Your chance to miss the deciding game is right there in front of you." He winked, but there was a hidden challenge dancing in his eyes.
Itachi paused, "I have better things to do."
Flint laughed as if he'd heard the funniest joke. "More important things? Why, might you have a more important task than Slytherin winning Quidditch?
Flint snorted contemptuously, but didn't back down. "Come on, Itachi, don't be such a drag. Did the genius of the faculty find something more important than glorifying Slytherin on the pitch?" He looked at Itachi, his lips stretched in a smug smile. "Or maybe... our quiet genius has finally found a girlfriend and decided to have a little fun with her while everyone else is busy playing? Well, that would be fun. What do you say, guys?"
The players surrounding Flint chuckled, agreeing with him.
Itachi looked disapprovingly at Flint, his eyes narrowed as if he was assessing him as something not too pleasant.
"Judging by your persistent interest in my plans, Flint, one would think you'd be more concerned with finding some satisfaction from your team."
He paused deliberately, making it clear that he wasn't going to explain exactly what he meant.
Flint's face changed dramatically. His smile immediately disappeared and his eyes filled with anger. He took a step forward, moving closer and looming over him.
"Listen here, boy."
"A mudblood like you should have more respect for your elders, or who knows when you might need help. You haven't forgotten where you go to school, have you? This is no place for cocky behavior. There's always someone above you, and you'd better remember that!"
Flint looked around at his comrades again, seeking approval, but his face contorted with anger.
He answered nothing, but his contemptuous look let Flint know that his words had not elicited the desired reaction.
He bypassed Flint and his team, nonchalantly squeezing through the crowd of players and their furious discussions.
Once out of the crowd, the thought of heading to the Great Hall, where the noise was even more intense, came to mind. The sounds of talking, laughter, and cheers merged into a single growing noise. Sighing with slight irritation, he sat down at one of the relatively empty tables and began to eat his breakfast, listening to the chatter of the students.
Some were cheering for their teams, their voices mixed with shouts of encouragement, loud applause, and curses, depending on how the game was going. Suddenly his attention was drawn to the calmer voices discussing Potter.
It appeared that students were discussing and describing him as the youngest catcher in Quidditch in the last hundred years. Some admired his talent, others criticized, but all agreed that Potter was a phenomenon. Comparisons to the great catchers of the past slipped into the conversations. Kind of like something new and interesting.
This whole atmosphere full of passion and enthusiasm was foreign to him, but at the same time it made him wonder a bit about what was going on in the magical world.
After finishing his breakfast he wanted to get away from the hype. But barely had he risen from the table when Professor Dumbledore's voice sounded, heralding the imminent start of the game.
"Students! As you know, today is the long awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin!"
All the students immediately murmured, making the hall even more animated. The entire hall was like a giant anthill preparing for a game. He sighed, realizing that the fate of Quidditch was in all its glory today.
Instead of leaving the Great Hall immediately, he decided to wait a bit, hoping that Dumbledore or someone else would say something useful.
It soon became apparent that the Heads of Faculties had begun to shout over the noise of the crowd, urging students to gather in groups. They gestured vigorously, directing the younger classes to exit the Great Hall. An organized movement towards the Quidditch pitch began, and it was clear that everyone would soon be there.
Stepping onto the Quidditch pitch, Itachi was amazed at its size. The huge oval space was surrounded by bleachers that rose in tiers upwards like a giant amphitheater. The field was perfectly flat, with bright green grass with white marking lines painted on it. On either side of the field were three rings mounted on tall poles.
Professors, like skillful orchestra conductors, divided the students into faculties, seating them in their seats. Itachi noticed that Slytherin had one of the best bleachers, with a great view of the field.
But looking closer, one detail became apparent.
Freshmen from noble families were assigned a separate section closer to the field and elevated above the rest. It was a clear demonstration of the privilege and special treatment given to the children of powerful and wealthy wizards, even at Hogwarts.
It was yet another reminder that even in this magical world there was a social hierarchy, and he, due to his past, had always been on the bottom rung.
Sitting on his podium, he decided to take a moment to scan the freshmen gathered in the privileged section with his gaze. His experience did not allow him to simply brush off this display of social inequality. He began to mentally compile a dossier on each of these young aristocrats, drawing on what he already knew of the magical world.
Malfoy: The first, of course, was Draco, with a haughty expression on his face.
Malfoys are known for their pureblood views and connections to powerful wizards.
His arrogance and haughtiness could be dangerous, but it was usually just an attempt to show himself on par with his parents.
Parkinson: sitting next to Malfoy was Pansy Parkinson, a girl with sharp facial features and an always arrogant look. She seemed to be a loyal follower of Malfoy, ready to support his every endeavor. Her family was also known for their purity and tradition, but she was no threat.
Zabini: Blaise Zabini, a swarthy boy with dark eyes. Not much was known about him, but his family was wealthy and influential, which already gave him a certain status. Zabini seemed more reserved and observant than Malfoy, which made him a more interesting subject to analyze.
In addition to these three students, Itachi noticed several other freshmen whose names and families were less familiar to him. They were the children of ancient magical families, each name connected to the history and traditions of the magical world. He knew that behind each of them was wealth and influence, and that they could be both allies and adversaries.
Hogwarts, like everywhere else, had its unwritten rules, and he would have to learn to understand them.
Looking around the group of aristocrats once more, he realized that Theodore was nowhere to be found in this section. For some reason, he was somewhere else.
Then his gaze traveled across the field, sliding over the bleachers filled with excited students, across the green lawn stretching into the distance, and finally stopped at the special section for teachers. There, the familiar figures of professors glowed, many of them absorbed in conversation, waiting for the game to begin.
Professor Snape, as always, looked aloof and disgruntled, while Dumbledore seemed to glow with an inner amusement as he watched everyone's excitement. He didn't linger on them, but shifted his gaze back to the field.
He was immersed in his thoughts.
Suddenly, a light pat on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. Instincts honed by years of training kicked in instantly. Without a second's hesitation, he spun around and grabbed his attacker in a lightning-fast movement. His fingers gripped the hand of his unwanted guest tightly, ready to strike at any moment if necessary.
It was only a couple of seconds later, when he saw Theodore's frightened and guilty face, that he realized he was not the enemy. Instantly his body relaxed, and he let go of his comrade's hand.
"Theodore, what are you doing?"
Theodore, rubbing the hand that Itachi's fingers had just clutched, tried to defuse the situation with a tremor in his voice and a weak smile:
"Well, Itachi, I knew you had fast reactions, but not that fast! Now I'll definitely think twice before trying to pat you on the shoulder. I feel like the guest of honor.".
He looked around at the people around him, who stood frozen in silence as they watched this unexpected scene of violence. Some students looked at him with consternation, others with curiosity, but they all seemed to have temporarily forgotten about the upcoming Quidditch match.
The silence was broken by the harsh voice of the Slytherin Headmaster, who shoved the gawkers away and quickly walked over to them. He looked annoyed and angry:
"What's going on here! Have you lost your mind? You attacked your classmate in front of the whole school! Do you realize that's unacceptable behavior!"
He was about to reply, but Theodore quickly interrupted him:
"No, no, it's fine! Itachi just didn't expect me to come up behind him. He's a little... nervous, that's how he reacted."
"He just didn't recognize me, you know? I mean, he's got eyes like an eagle, he's ready to fight right away."
The head teacher frowned and looked around at both students, but seemed to believe him.
"Okay, watch yourselves," he said, nudging them.
"Be more careful next time! It's not like we're in the jungle!" With those words, he backed away, returning to his duties, but still glancing in their direction.
"That was very close."
"Maybe we should stop practicing fighting techniques on classmates, huh?"
Itachi looked at Theodore, studying his face. There wasn't a trace of anger or resentment on it, just a slight smirk and a barely perceptible startled tremor in his voice that still hadn't completely disappeared. His gaze softened and the inner tension subsided a bit.
He remained silent for a while, as if searching for the right words.
"I'm sorry."
Theodore seemed a little surprised by this reaction. He raised an eyebrow, and his smirk became more open:
"For what?"
"Not just for what just happened. For everything."
He realized that since then his behavior had not been the friendliest, to say the least. He had been aloof, withdrawn, and not always reacting appropriately to those around him. Although it wasn't easy for him to admit it, now, looking into Theodore's eyes, he realized it was time to apologize.
"Well, since you apologize so sincerely," he said, pretending to consider the situation.
"I guess I'll accept your apology. But like I said, all those frowning eyebrows and cold stares freak me out. So... I'll totally forgive you if you can keep a normal face for one day. Come on, you can do it, right? Just one day without that deadly expression like you have diarrhea?"
He winked at Itachi, clearly enjoying his confusion. Theodore could see that Itachi wasn't used to such jokes and probably didn't understand what exactly was wanted from him. But that was what made the situation so amusing.
Itachi looked at Theodore, studied his sly face in silence for a few seconds, and then the corner of his lips twitched in a slight, almost imperceptible smirk. It was quite unlike his usual expression, and Theodore almost sighed in surprise.
"I'll think about it," his voice remained steady, but there was some new note in it that gave away his barely contained amusement.
"That's... generous offer. It might be worth considering."
"Really? What a twist!". But his smile grew even wider.
" Don't languish with it for too long."
"By the way, where were you before this? I couldn't find you anywhere. I went to the bleachers right after breakfast, I thought you'd be here by now."
"I lingered in the Great Hall. I had business to attend to." He tried not to go into details of his run-in with Flint, not wanting to share that with Theodore.
"And where were you? I noticed you weren't in the privileged section."
"Oh yes, I asked the headman to take me to the regular podium. I hate all those demonstrations, I get bored there. Also, you know, with all those aristocrats around looking at you like that, like you're their.... how shall I put it, a piece of shit, it's even worse than their arrogance."
Theodore grimaced.
"Yeah, and I wanted to see the students' actual reaction to what was going on. Not just some Malfoy trumping his position."
His eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Well, aside from the fact that I almost got hurt and you almost finished me off."
They both fell silent, and at that moment the whistle sounded, heralding the start of the match.
Itachi and Theodore stopped talking and looked at the field.
The referee, Mrs. Hooch, energetically stepped onto the center of the lawn, holding a loud whistle and a broom. She was dressed in her usual striped uniform, and her face was focused and serious.
"So, students of Hogwarts!" - her voice thundered across the field, amplified by magic.
"We are gathered here today to witness an epic confrontation between the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams!"
The crowd erupted into applause and shouts of support. Itachi grimaced slightly, but didn't take his eyes off the pitch.
"I remind you of the rules!"
"There are seven players on each team: three hunters, two corrals, one goalie, and one catcher! The hunters' job is to score a quaffle into the opponent's rings; the catchers' job is to bounce the bludgers off their comrades and aim them toward the opponents. Goalies, of course, protect their rings. And the catcher. his job is to catch the golden snitch. When the snitch is caught, the game ends and the catcher's team gets 150 points."
She paused, looking around at all the students.
"May the strongest man win!"
She brought the whistle to her lips, and the air was filled with a loud, sharp sound. The teams climbed onto their brooms and took their positions on the field, ready for the intense battle to begin.
Watching the game, Itachi slowly began to realize why Quidditch had caused such a stir. He noted the dynamics and energy of the players' flight, the deft maneuvers of the hunters batting away the quaffle, and the tense battles between the corrals and bludgers. Excitement, passion, and some primal thrill seemed to infect everyone around them. Even he, normally indifferent to all such entertainment, couldn't help but recognize that Quidditch was indeed an interesting spectacle.
Nevertheless, his analytical mind couldn't help but notice the game's flaws. He frowned as he pondered this.
"Strange," he muttered, turning to Theodore.
"After all, in fact, the whole game could be over in an instant if the catcher catches that little golden trinket."
Theodore, fascinated by the spectacle, shifted his gaze to Itachi.
"You mean the snitch?"
"Exactly."
"The whole game, all that effort, all those collisions can be negated by one lucky move by the catcher. How is that fair? One hundred and fifty points for catching a snitch... It devalues everything else. It's like all the efforts of the rest of the team are completely unimportant."
"I like watching Quidditch, there's something exciting about it. But to participate... I'm not sure I'd want to. Why go all out when everything in the game can be decided by chance? I understand why everyone likes to watch the game, but to participate..."
He finished his sentence with a barely perceptible shrug of his shoulders.
Theodore looked at the field thoughtfully.
"You're right, there is some bias in that."
"No wonder everyone is so obsessed with catchers. They can basically single-handedly lead the entire team to victory, even if the rest of us have to plow like the damned."
"On the other hand, it makes the game unpredictable, a gamble. And isn't that what everyone loves?"
No sooner had Itachi thought about the downsides of Quidditch than his attention was drawn to Harry Potter's unusual behavior. The Boy Who Survived, as he was known socially, suddenly began to lose control of his broom. He swayed from side to side, clumsily trying to hold on, as if the broom had turned into an unruly wild animal.
It was strange, since Potter was considered a natural born flyer. He had demonstrated his talent and skill in flying lessons on more than one occasion.
Noticing that all eyes in the stands were on Potter, Itachi decided to use his Sharingan. His eyes flashed red for a moment, and he focused his gaze on Potter's broomstick. The Sharingan allowed him to see magical threads, barely visible to the simple eye. He realized that Potter's broom was enchanted. Someone was clearly trying to prevent him from participating in the game, and possibly harm him.
This wasn't just an accident, but a deliberate diversion.
After tracing his gaze over the thin magical threads stretching from Potter's broomstick, he turned his attention to the teacher's section. The Sharingan allowed him to see and analyze not only the magic itself, but also the intentions of those who used it.
The first to come into his field of vision was Professor Snape. He was sitting with his lips pinched together, muttering something quietly. His first thought was that it was Snape who had enchanted Potter's broom, and it was he who was now gloating as he watched him suffer. But the next moment he dismissed that assumption as false.
Using his Sharingan, he read the professor's lips for his words. What he heard puzzled him. Snape was casting undo spells, and not in the usual order, but in reverse. His mind flashed back to a memory of reading about such spells in textbooks. They were ancient counterspells that were supposed to neutralize harmful magic.
It became clear that Snape was not the one who had enchanted Potter's broomstick, but instead was trying to help him. He was trying to counteract someone else's dark magic. He could feel the energy coming from Snape to break the spell cast on the broom. That energy collided with the dark, invisible force coming from the source of the spell. It was like an invisible war happening right before his eyes.
Focusing again, and tracing the thin threads of magical energy leading him away from Potter's enchanted broomstick. His gaze slid over the teachers' seats until it stopped on Professor Quirrell.
Quirrell was sitting in his seat, his face tense and his hands covering his mouth tightly. He noticed that the professor seemed to be trying to hide the movements of his lips, as if he was afraid someone might be able to read them. But to the Sharingan, nothing could be hidden.
It was from Quirrell that the magical threads were being pulled that finally convinced him of his involvement. He could see the professor secretly casting spells, fueling the evil magic that enveloped Potter's broomstick. The energy emanating from Quirrell was dark and sinister, full of hatred and malice. It collided with the one Snape was emitting, and an invisible battle ensued.
He couldn't believe that the stuttering and perpetually terrified Professor Quirrell was capable of such meanness. But the Sharingan did not lie, and now he knew perfectly well that this man, seemingly weak and harmless at first glance, harbored dark and dangerous powers.
Now that he knew who was behind it, he had even more questions. Why would Quirrell want to do this? Why exactly was Potter his target? And, most importantly, how far was he willing to go in his intentions?
He began to watch Potter again, who was still struggling with the enchanted broom, he realized that the situation was becoming more and more critical.
He realized that the boy could fall at any moment, and then the consequences could be dire.
Despite his detached attitude towards those around him, he was well aware Potter was not just a boy. He was a living symbol of hope, a personification of the victory of the light forces over the dark ones. His death could be the trigger for a new conflict, a new war that Itachi was desperately trying to avoid.
If any other student had been in his place, he probably would have just watched. He wouldn't have intervened if he had fallen. His priority would have been to find a way to reverse the spell, not to save someone's life. But in Potter's case, it was different. His fall could have far-reaching consequences, and he couldn't let that happen.
Itachi was willing to save Potter if the situation got out of hand. He was willing to sacrifice his principles to prevent a possible disaster. He was willing to intervene, even if it might put him in danger or raise questions.
Itachi was not a hero, nor did he aspire to be one. He didn't harbor warm feelings for Potter. He did so purely out of rationality, realizing that keeping the boy alive was not just a humanitarian act, but a strategic necessity to preserve a world that was already barely afloat.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the teacher's seat suddenly engulfed in flames. The fire erupted suddenly, as if someone had used a spell to create a distraction.He didn't see who exactly did it, but he was grateful for such an intervention. As he immediately realized, this distraction played into Snape's hands.
In the same instant, Snape jumped up sharply from his seat, shoving Quirrell and the other teachers away. His actions were swift and decisive, as if he could hold back no longer. With an abrupt movement, he shattered the spell Quirrell had cast on Potter's broomstick. The magical threads emanating from Quirrell disappeared, and Potter's broom suddenly stopped shaking him.
Itachi's eyes, long since returned to their normal black color, were now watching Quirrell intently. He couldn't miss the slightest movement of the professor. He waited to see if the man would do anything else reckless, if he would try to harm Potter again, or if he would try to escape.
Even within the walls of Hogwarts, surrounded by teachers and students, danger lurked.
The rest of the game passed without incident. The tension subsided and the players focused on strategy and the game. Potter, to the surprise of many, showed incredible accuracy and agility, demonstrating excellent broom control and extraordinary skill. The other teams also demonstrated an excellent level of play. The game seemed to have found a new dynamic, devoid of magical confrontation.
And then, in an instant, everything changed. Potter swept across the field like lightning, his broomstick seeming to merge with the air. Before the audience knew it, his broom froze in mid-air for a moment, and then - with a triumphant swing - flew down. Harry Potter caught the snitch, which, sparkling with golden light, disappeared into his hand.
An explosion of applause shook the stands. The game was over. Potter caught the snitch, quickly and brilliantly ending the match with a Gryffindor victory. Itachi had been watching everything that was going on, and although he wasn't thrilled with the game, he couldn't help but recognize Harry Potter's skill. It was another victory for him, but also another reminder of how fragile the world was, even in this magical world.
The Quidditch match was over, and the crowd of students began to move towards the Great Hall, where a celebratory dinner awaited them. He, however, had no intention of joining in the cheering.
Deciding that he needed some time to think things over and make a decision, Itachi tried to sneak away from the crowd, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. To his relief, the paintings were no longer following him so closely.
So he decided that the best place to think would be his room. There he could have some privacy and focus on what he needed to do. Pretending to go to the Great Hall, he took a sharp turn down a side corridor and quickly headed towards the Slytherin dungeon.
Line break
Theodore, like everyone else, was excited about the game. Winning Gryffindor wasn't his main goal, of course, but watching Potter catch the snitch was certainly exciting. When the match was over, he was discussing the game with his classmates with a smile and a slight excitement in his voice.
Theodore, on his way to the Great Hall, noticed Itachi out of the corner of his eye. He was moving in the opposite direction of the main crowd, his shoulders tense and his expression once again aloof and closed off. At first Theodore thought he was imagining things, but when Itachi turned the corner leading to the Slytherin dungeons abruptly, his doubts were dispelled.
"There he is," - Theodore muttered, watching his comrade's figure disappear. He had noticed that after the Quidditch match, Itachi seemed to be withdrawn again. Gone was the slight grin and the hint of amusement. His face was cold and impenetrable again.
His intuition told Theodore that something was wrong. He couldn't explain why, but something about Itachi's behavior alerted him. He decided not to let it go and follow him to make sure he was okay.
So Theodore, pretending to tie his shoe lace, turned around abruptly and quickly headed in the direction Itachi had gone. He tried not to make any noise or draw attention to himself, hoping Itachi wouldn't notice him. Theodore didn't know what to expect, but he was determined to find out what was going on with his comrade.
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
Itachi reached his room in the Slytherin dungeon and quickly closed the door behind him. He could feel the tension he had been holding back throughout the match starting to come out. He leaned his back against the door and took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.
"That Quirrell... he's dangerous," Itachi muttered to himself.
He paced the room like a caged tiger. His thoughts were darting around like lightning bolts.
He stopped and looked at his hands. "I have to do something about this.
Itachi began to ponder his options. He realized that he couldn't act out in the open without any evidence of Quirrell's guilt. He needed to be careful and think through his every move. "Need to gather more information," he muttered. "Need to figure out exactly what he's up to, and how he can be stopped."
He sighed again, feeling tired but realizing he couldn't afford to relax. "I can't afford to slip up, a lot could depend on it."
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
Theodore, quietly creeping to the door of Itachi's room, heard the muffled voice of his comrade. He realized that Itachi was talking to himself, and there was concern in his voice. He didn't hesitate and without knocking, he opened the door and entered the room.
Itachi turned around abruptly, caught off guard. His eyes widened in surprise and irritation flashed across his face, which he immediately tried to hide.
"Theodore?" - he uttered, trying to keep his voice calm. "What are you doing here?"
"That's what I'm asking," Theodore replied, leaning against the doorjamb. His eyes were full of curiosity, and a slight worry read in them. "I heard you talking to yourself in here. And from what you're saying, something's obviously wrong. What's wrong?"
Theodore pushed himself away from the joint and slowly approached Itachi, never taking his eyes off of him. "Who's dangerous, Itachi? And why are you hiding so many things from me? We're friends, aren't we?"
He paused, giving Itachi time to answer. "I've noticed that after Quidditch you've become kind of closed off again. You always get like that when something's bothering you. Don't you trust me?" You could hear the resentment in Theodore's voice. "I'm certainly not a genius like you, but I'm always willing to listen, and maybe even help."
He took another step towards Itachi, shortening the distance between them, and in his gaze he read disappointment.
"You know, Itachi, I'm starting to get annoyed with this," Theodore said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're always walking around with that smarmy look of yours, like you're the only one with a problem. You think that you're the only one who knows something and that you're the only one who can deal with it?"
He shook his head, not hiding his irritation. "I don't have everything sweet in my life either, you know! I have my problems, my demons, if you will. But I don't walk around like a ghost, hiding from everyone and pretending I don't need anyone."
Theodore paused once more to let his words settle into the air. "Remember when we promised to help each other? Remember when we decided that we would stick together and support each other? Where is all that now? Why can't you trust me? Why do you think I'm not worthy of your help, or conversely, that you're not worthy of mine?"
He took a step back, looking at Itachi directly in the eyes. "I don't need you to tell me all your secrets, but at least tell me what's going on. Don't push me away like I'm nothing to you. I am, after all, your friend, and I care about what's going on with you."
Theodore took a breath, giving vent to his emotions. "You're always so smart, Itachi, but sometimes you can be so stupid! You can't do everything by yourself. Realize that already at last!"
Itachi listened to Theodore's words without uttering a sound. His face remained impenetrable, but a storm was raging inside him. He couldn't deny that Theodore was right, but it was beyond him to admit it.
Instead of answering, Sasuke's face popped up in his mind. His little brother - just as stubborn, just as impatient, just as eager for recognition. Itachi suddenly realized how much Theodore had in common with Sasuke. Both of them were full of energy, both of them genuinely wanted to help, both of them felt abandoned when they were pushed away.
"Why do I always do this?" - Itachi thought, feeling the weight of guilt on his shoulders. "Why can't I just accept help? Why do I always push away those who try to approach me?"
His mind went back to the past, to the moments when he had pushed Sasuke away, when he had refused his support, when he had done everything to avoid getting close to him. And now he was repeating the same mistake with Theodore.
"I'm doing the same as always. Distancing myself again," Itachi thought bitterly. He knew he should have said something to Theodore, that he should have explained his motives to him, but the words stuck in his throat. He was, as always, unable to show emotion, unable to be open. He was doomed to repeat his mistakes.
Silence hung in the air, pressing and heavy. Itachi was silent, and Theodore realized. He realized that his words, his attempt to help, had shattered the invisible wall Itachi had built around himself. Disappointment, bitter and heavy, began to rise in Theodore's chest.
He could feel his cheeks reddening, as if ashamed of himself. He swallowed, and there was pain in his voice. Reluctantly, with frustration and a slightly noticeable contempt, Theodore turned around, about to leave.
But, halfway to the door, he stopped. Looked at Itachi, who was still standing, immersed in his own thoughts, and spoke, his voice trembling:
"I thought we were friends... Apparently only I thought so."
The sound of the door slamming shut was like a gunshot, sobering Itachi. He stood as still as a statue until it dawned on him that Theodore was gone. A hurricane of feelings raged inside him - remorse, fear, and most of all, an acute sense of loss. He realized that his silence, his perpetual detachment, had once again alienated the man who had tried to help him.
His usual restraint had cracked. Itachi, as if waking from a dream, turned sharply. Despair splashed in his eyes, his voice, normally smooth and calm, trembled with tension.
"Theodore!" - he shouted, his voice louder than he had ever allowed himself. He rushed to the door, realizing it was now or never. He grasped the doorknob and turned it, digging his fingers into the cold metal.
Itachi hesitated, his voice shaking. "I...I was a different person, Theodore. I... I've experienced things I wouldn't wish on anyone else
Itachi fell silent, catching his breath. He was afraid to continue, he realized how stupid and ridiculous his words sounded, but he couldn't stop. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't want you to think I didn't care about you. You... you're my friend, Theodore, and I... I don't want to lose you. I just...I don't know how to be different yet."
I need to explain to you," Itachi exhaled, looking at the back of a frozen Theodore. "It's not just me, it's not just my problems. It's... it's also Quirrell. He's dangerous, Theodore. Very dangerous."
Itachi was silent for a moment, trying to catch his breath. His words sounded harsh and confused, but he had to say everything he knew. "He's... he's trying to hurt Potter. I saw him bewitch his broom at a Quidditch match. It wasn't an accident. It was dark magic."
Itachi fell silent, catching his breath. His face was contorted with pain and worry. "I don't know exactly what he's up to, but it's dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt, and I don't want him to hurt anyone else. That's why I've been so... so detached. I've been trying to sort things out on my own so I don't put you in danger."
Dumbledore too... he's been watching me, Theodore, ever since the troll incident. He doesn't trust me. I know it, I can feel it," he was silent for a second, trying to control himself.
"He's not the only one, Theodore," he continued, lowering his voice as if afraid someone might overhear him. - It seems like everyone here is watching me. The paintings, the ghosts... it's like they're all reporting my every move. It's weighing on me, Theodore, it's making me nervous. I feel like I'm constantly in the crosshairs."
He took a deep breath, trying to calm the tremor in his voice. "And because of Quirrell, and because of this constant surveillance...I couldn't trust anyone.
Theodore's back was still facing Itachi, and he didn't move. But Itachi could see how tense his shoulders were, and how his hand, frozen on the doorknob, trembled slightly. The silence in the room was oppressive, and Itachi felt every second drag on like an eternity. He didn't know what was going through Theodore's mind, but the silence spoke for itself.
Theodore didn't interrupt, didn't ask questions, he just listened, absorbing Itachi's every word like a sponge. Itachi could feel that heavy, scrutinizing gaze on him, which seemed to penetrate his very soul. He didn't know if Theodore believed him, or if he thought he was crazy, but still, he didn't stop. He expressed everything that had built up in his soul.
Itachi watched as Theodore, without uttering a sound, slowly let go of the doorknob and his hand slid down along his body. He still didn't turn around, but that small gesture gave Itachi some hope. Maybe Theodore wasn't going to leave, maybe he was at least thinking about what Itachi had told him.
Theodore stood with his back to Itachi, his hand frozen halfway to the doorknob, his friend's words still ringing in his ears. Quirrell... dark magic... Dumbledore... surveillance... Theodore could feel his brain desperately trying to digest the flood of information bombarding him.
At first it was just frustration. A resentment. Then there was anxiety. And now... a mixture of distrust, worry, and some strange, almost morbid interest. Is he really telling the truth? - A thought flashed through my mind. Or had he gone completely insane in this closed world of his?
Theodore felt his shoulders tense as his fingers gripped the doorknob. His instincts were screaming to run, to get as far away from this madness as possible. But...something was holding him back. Maybe it was the faint tinge of desperation in Itachi's voice, maybe it was the strange, inexplicable faith in his friend that still lingered in his heart.
He slowly lowered his hand, letting go of the doorknob, his fingers still trembling. A stakeout? Ghosts? It sounded like complete paranoia. But at the same time, he knew Itachi. He knew he would never make something like that up unless he was sure of something.
Theodore realized that he had to make a decision now. He could dismiss Itachi's words, write them off as paranoia, and walk away like he was going to. Or... he could believe it. He could try to make sense of all this nonsense with his friend.
And that was what was keeping him from leaving. Curiosity. Doubt. And, ultimately, old friendship that kept him staying. He really never seemed like a normal person, but... Theodore swallowed silently and a thought popped into his head: Maybe we should really listen to him.
He was still standing with his back to Itachi, but now his hand was down and the door remained closed. He was ready for a long and very strange conversation.
The silence in the room was replaced by a tense silence that was not hostile, however. Theodore remained silent, digesting what he had heard, and Itachi, not daring to break this lull, simply waited. Several long minutes seemed to pass before Theodore finally broke the silence.
"Okay," he said, his voice sounding quiet but firm, and it made Itachi exhale in relief. "I... I don't really understand what's going on, and I still have a hard time believing it, but I'm willing to listen. And if it's all true... I'll help you."
Itachi nodded, his eyes, usually full of calm, now glowing with gratitude. "Thank you, Theodore," he replied, and there was sincerity in his voice. "I appreciate it more than you know."
And so began their conversation, which lasted until late into the night. They sat in Itachi's room, surrounded by semi-darkness and silence. Theodore asked questions, trying to figure out exactly what was going on, and Itachi, in turn, told everything he knew - about his suspicions about Quirrell, about Dumbledore's strange behavior, about the constant feeling of being followed.
They went over their options, trying to find logic in what was happening, coming up with a plan of action. Theodore proposed bold and sometimes even reckless ideas, and Itachi, in turn, tried to analyze them and make them more thoughtful.
They argued, they discussed, they pondered together. They felt the connection that had almost been broken between them being reestablished. And despite the gravity of the situation, they felt a strange sense of relief, as if some of the heaviness that had been weighing on them had finally disappeared.
With each hour they spent together, their plan became clearer and more realistic.
The plan was laid out, the tasks were assigned, and each of them knew what they needed to do next.
Theodore yawned, stretching, and looked at Itachi. "Well, I think we should get at least a couple hours of sleep," he said, and there was a sense of tiredness in his voice, but also hope. "Otherwise we won't be able to do anything."
Itachi nodded, agreeing. "Yeah, you're right. We need to rest." He was silent for a moment, and then, unexpectedly to himself, he spoke up: "Theodore."
Theodore raised an eyebrow, looking at his friend questioningly. "Yes?"
Itachi looked up at him, and a faint smile flashed in his eyes, which was highly unusual for him. "I will grant your wish."
Theodore frowned, clearly not understanding what he was talking about. "What wish?" - He asked, confused.
Itachi grinned, and it was a real, genuine grin, not the kind he usually allowed himself. "You asked me to walk around with a normal face for once, remember?" - he reminded. "You'll see."
Theodore was stunned, trying to remember the moment he'd said something like that, and when he finally did, a look of amazement spread across his face. Itachi remembered that? - He thought to himself. And he... is he seriously going to do this?
Before he could answer anything, Itachi simply nodded to him as if confirming his words and turned away. Theodore stared at his back for a few seconds, amazed at the unexpected turn of events, and then shook his head, grinning.
"Okay, okay," he muttered, yawning. "I think I'll actually go to bed."
The room had fallen into a soft twilight, with only the faint light of dawn filtering through the slits in the curtains. Theodore had already left, leaving Itachi in a silence that seemed calming rather than oppressive. He walked slowly to his bed and sank down on it, feeling the fatigue finally catching up with him.