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We wanted to go to the headmaster's office, but Hogwarts is a cursed maze, even if you've been here for more than a year. We ended up on the third floor and found here an outraged Malfoy in the company of his eternal companions, Crabbe and Goyle. Along with them was a thin brunette with a nice haircut.

"How dare they!" hissed Malfoy, hissing angrily and almost spitting as he walked briskly down the corridor.

"Dirty Gryffindors," the brunette enthusiastically assented to him. Parkinson, if I'm not mistaken. She doesn't look like a pug at all, quite a normal look.

It was hard not to notice us, so...

"Look at that," Malfoy grinned dismissively, "two mudbloods stain the school floors with their dirty feet..."

The company was coming at us rather aggressively, smirking. Hermione, I hadn't even noticed when, managed to pull out her wand, standing imposingly and tapping the tip of this very wand on her chin while smiling smugly.

"Our little Draco wants to brag about his new learned spell?"

Malfoy's smile faded. There were still a few feet between us.

"Or has he learned a new bad word?" said Hermione in the still same mocking tone. I could hardly suppress a smile.

"How dare you!" the brunette was furious, albeit feignedly. "Mudblood!"

"You've made some new friends," Hermione smiled even wider. "Good boy."

"You should watch your words..." Draco stepped abruptly close, about to reach for his wand. Crabbe followed him, and Goyle also had Parkinson's back. A worked-out scheme?

"Give me a reason," I looked calmly at Malfoy, who was trying in vain to hang menacingly over me. His height doesn't allow him.

He stretched out, but below me by a third of his head. "Just give me a reason, heir Malfoy." historical

Draco went pale and red-faced, staring at us in a kind of powerless hatred.

"You... you..."

"What's going on here?" came Snape's voice behind me. I didn't even turn around, and neither did Hermione, and a short moment later, the professor was standing at our side.

"Nothing, Professor," I spoke immediately, keeping my gaze on Malfoy. "We're just chatting."

"Great," replied the professor calmly. "Mr. Malfoy. Follow me."

The entire Slytherin company followed Snape, giving us an ominous look until they disappeared around the corner.

"Wait for trouble," Hermione sighed, putting her wand away.

"I'm waiting."

The positive mood was completely ruined, so I decided to go to the headmaster's office another time.

***

The reason for Malfoy's anger was revealed in the living room that evening. It turned out that, as I'd said, Draco had decided to prove himself to the hippogriff. Either out of jealousy of Potter's success in taming this curious beast or for some other reason. Perhaps he was hoping to get slightly injured and not participate in Quidditch matches when Dementors could appear in the sky over Hogwarts at any second? Who's going to figure this guy out? But whatever the reasons, Malfoy went to the hippogriff and would get the desired injury, if not for Potter. Boy, even while under the impression of flying the animal, reacted and enchanted Malfoy with Petrificus. The hippogriff is calm, Draco is unharmed. Everyone is happy.

Later, there was a little debriefing about the inappropriate witchcraft. Snape took twenty points off Potter, McGonagall added thirty. For the impeccable reaction in an unexpected situation and saving the life and health of a fellow student. That's why Malfoy was freaking out.

Just before lights out, I decided to conduct a little sabotage operation. There's a Peter who's been sleeping in our room for years. Peter Pettigrew. I had the idea of buying a rat from Ron, but he would have said no. He's redhead, he's poor, he might swear at the rat now and then, but he appreciates Peter as a pet. Even though he doesn't know it's not a rat at all.

So I decided to steal Pettigrew. What for? Just in case. I have pondered more than once how to knock the ring out of Sirius. Information about it or something else. Many options can go down the drain. Hermione had not bought a cat, by the way. Anyway, I must have a backup plan. Pettigrew would be that plan, and the sooner, the better. With each passing month, Sirius will recover more and more from his time in Azkaban. Perhaps now he's inadequate - how else to explain his attempt in the future to force his way through the portrait of the Fat Lady. What kind of foolishness is that? And ruin the canvas, too. He's not really adequate right now, but he's focused on the idea of chewing on Pettigrew in animagus form, so we should take advantage of that.