DOORWAYS || MARAUDERS ERA

ϟ64: COMPLICATED RUBBISHϟ

Rhea was starting to regret coming to the kitchen.

Sirius and Snape were glaring at each other, each quite intent on burning holes into the other as though silently plotting murder. Rhea sat awkwardly in between them, resisting the fleeting urge to get up and get the hell out of there.

"I would prefer it if Potter and I talked alone, Black." Snape said coldly, sneering at him unpleasantly.

"This is my house." Sirius said loudly, and Rhea facepalmed. "I'm not leaving, Snape. Whatever you have to tell my godson, you do it in front of me."

Snape's lips thinned, but he was spared from answering when the door to the kitchen opened.

"Mrs Weasley said—" Harry was saying anxiously, but abruptly stopped when his eyes fell on Snape. Rhea sighed in relief upon seeing her best friend, eager to have some actual company instead of an apparent convict and a greasy professor.

Harry blinked blankly at Snape, while the latter ordered, "Sit down, Potter."

Sirius opened his mouth defiantly, but Harry beat him to it. "Really?" Harry scoffed, walking into the kitchen leisurely. "I think not."

Rhea immediately began mentally composing an obituary.

"What now, Snape?" Harry called out mockingly, "Want to give me a chocolate? Or d'you want me to give you a bottle of Sleekeazy's hair potion?"

Here lies the grave of Harry James Potter, died on the second of January, 1996. Cause of death: stupidity.

Sirius looked extremely proud that Harry had managed to insult Snape. Snape, on the other hand, looked enraged. "What was that, Potter?"

"Did you not hear me?" Harry said slightly hysterically, annoyed that "Tonks" was trying to fool him once again. "Or maybe you should just adopt me? Let's go to court, Snape, where you can take custody of me!"

Rhea didn't know whether she had to cry or laugh.

Snape looked like he had swallowed a goblet full of poison. "What is this foolery, Potter? Perhaps your Godfather's presence has given you a false sense of security—"

"No no no!" Harry was not having any of it. "You see, you can't trick me again. I've caught onto your games, woman! And I'm done being tricked!"

"I shall not have this nonsense spoken to me—" Snape fumed, but Rhea butted in.

"Er, Harry?" Rhea grimaced, giving him a look. "It isn't Tonks. It's...um...really Professor Snape."

And Harry's will to live promptly writhed on the spot before bidding the world farewell.

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