Harry walks down the hallway heading towards his next class, which was Charms. Hermione and Ron head to the library—well, Hermione drags Ron there—while she told Harry to go and attend the class. They wouldn't take too much time getting the book she wanted there.
It's been three months now. Good months. No problems. This is the most peaceful year. He hopes nothing happens this month.
As he is about to take a turn, he stops, hearing Snape and his godfather's voices.
"For the love of Merlin's beard! Why can't you be reasonable, damn it!"
Harry looks taken aback. Sirius never sounded this angry before. He calmly takes a step back and hides. He listens.
"Shut your mouth, you mutt!" Snape sneers. "You and that wolf are nothing but troublemakers!"
"I am warning you, Snape. I am literally this close—"
"Go on then! What's stopping you?! You aren't so noble as you make yourself to be! I know what you are! What that Lupin is! What that Potter is!"
Potter? Harry grips tightly onto the bag and feels confused. Is he talking about his father? Did something happen between them? That actually would make sense why Snape hates him so much.
What did his father do? Or what did Snape do to him?
"You were not so noble yourself," Sirius's voice was cold. "Have you forgotten how you joined the brand and were always invited to those pure-blood parties to make a name for yourself? Let's not forget who the real culprit is! Yes, we were rebellious! I admit my mistakes—even I say what I and others did back in those days was horrible—but were you a saint? You called Lily, who was your childhood friend, a Mudblood!"
Harry's eyes widen. Childhood friend? Snape? Friends with his mum?
"YOU—"
"What is going on here??"
It was Headmaster Dumbledore.
Harry immediately backs away. He turns around and walks as quietly as possible. He cannot get himself caught by them or be seen.
Snape was his mum's childhood friend? He hates his father.
So many thoughts ran through his head. Recently, Snape never once called out to him in Potions class like he usually did to bully him or take points. In previous second year and this year, Snape didn't even look at him.
He honestly was glad Snape wasn't picking on him; however—
"Harry!" Hermione and Ron see Harry walking hurriedly, like someone was chasing him. "What happened? Why aren't you at Charms class? We only have an hour before the class starts."
Harry stops. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it.
"Hey, man, you okay?" Ron looks concerned, touching his shoulder. "What happened?"
"Should we take you—"
"No, no, no…"
Harry shook his head. "I... I was just..." What excuse does he have? "Never mind... Let's just go. I was waiting for you guys to show up." He backs away and turns around, walking off.
Ron is confused. He lowers his hand and glances at Hermione.
Hermione didn't believe it. Something happened, and Harry wasn't going to tell them. Of course, she also knows how stubborn he is. He wouldn't tell them at all, no matter what.
Ron and Hermione look at each other. They'll find out on their own then.
————————
"Oh, thank you... you beautiful saint!" Tony almost wept as Wong helped him with the spell he was struggling with.
Wong shrugs. "It's not that hard a spell, Stark."
Tony just gave him a thumbs up while lying on the floor. He's tired and wants vodka. Lots of vodka.
His magic training was going well. In fact, he nailed it. Sling ring—still no good. He did manage to open the portal, but the direction and location were still a little tricky. There is a trick behind this. Ancient One—that wannabe avatar lady—told him what he needs to do.
Again, her teaching doesn't make sense to Tony, but after a while, it makes sense when he almost blows himself up.
Wong is a miracle who came to his rescue. Well, more like she was busy with something and needed to attend to whatever voodoo stuff was going on. She put Wong in charge to help him.
Finally, Tony sat down. "I have a break now, right?"
Wong collects the books from the floor. "Yes, you have a break. Three hours. After that, we will study fundamentals and practice your spells one more time. After that, you can have dinner and go to bed."
"Right, dinner..." Tony yawns. "Did everyone receive their groceries?" After he got to understand this place and what kind of food is served here—yeah, Tony wasn't having that.
It wasn't his ego or a rich-kid attitude. The money situation here was bad. These people get very small donations, barely enough to fill their stomachs. So, Tony decided to do his own donation.
He was glad the Ancient One didn't refuse him when he said "donation" he wanted to give here. He phoned Pepper and sent her the address where she had to ship groceries. Lots of them.
Wong, who likes chicken and music from what Tony observed, he ordered a lot.
So yes, Wong admittedly had been waiting to help Tony with anything without making a fuss. Stark gave him goods; in return, he wanted to do the same.
Tony got up from the floor and stretched his arms. "I'm gonna go and take a nap... I'm tired... See ya later, Wong."
"Wait, Stark." Wong put the books on the table and pulled out a letter from his robe. "Here, you got a letter. The owl couldn't get in here—one of the students saw the owl with the letter and brought it to me. It belongs to you."
Tony took the letter and blinked in surprise. "Oh! It's from Johnny." He hasn't heard from him for a while now. "I did forget him..." With everything going on, Johnny slipped from his mind. And well, he wasn't sure what his reaction was gonna be, knowing Gellert Grindelwald was related to Tony.
"I will be going back to the library. If you need anything, do it yourself." With that said, Wong left with the books.
"Yeah, yeah..." Tony opened the letter. He was gonna gift Johnny an iPhone. "What does he say..." He read the letter. "....." No freaking way.
Tony felt like he wasn't gonna take a break after this letter because this was bullshit!
"Wong!!!" He shouted as he ran out of the training room, heading toward the library. "I need you to teleport me to the tower!! Now!!"
He genuinely can't take a break! Damn you, Dumbledore!
Meanwhile, Dumbledore, sitting in his office, let out a sneeze, startling Minerva, who was too focused on the results cards she was making for the sixth years of her class. She looked at him in concern.
"You okay, Albus?"
"Yes, Minerva... just a sneeze." For some reason, Albus felt like someone cursed at him. Oh well. What can they do?