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Sirius Black must be the only student in all of Hogwarts history who has spent more time in Albus Dumbledore's office. In a thousand years or more, no other student has had so many opportunities to check how many stones there are exactly on the wall where the pictures of the ancients directors hang. He has the dubious honor of being the world champion of listening to sermons. He goes upstairs and it seems to him that he is seeing himself from outside. Too many emotions for just one night. When he enters the office and sits alone, waiting for Dumbledore, they all abandon him.

The director only takes half a minute to arrive and in that half-minute for the first and last time in his life, Sirius hates Hogwarts and everything it represents because in that minute Hogwarts is like his house, another place that despises and criminalizes, doubts him. Another crime scene where Sirius always turns out to be the ideal victim. In that brief fraction of time it takes for Dumbledore to enter his office, sit in the chair, and smile with something that could be affection behind that long white beard, Sirius is homeless and it is the worst feeling of his entire life.

- You are not here to be punished, Sirius.

How many words is that, six, seven? Few but balsamic. Experience immediate relief. And he can't help his voice shaking as he speaks. No, he almost can't keep tears from almost coming out.

- It wasn't me, professor. I swear, for real, it wasn't me. - He mumbles while speaking. - I promise you, sir.

"Don't expel me. Don't be suspicious. It wasn't me. Not this time".

He stirs. He trembles. If Dumbledore thinks it's him he'll have to leave Hogwarts. Worst. He will have to hate Hogwarts for treating him as badly as they have always treated him everywhere else. He will have to lose faith in magic and himself.

- I know, Sirius. - Dumbledore's melancholy half-smile wields on his balsamic effects. - I didn't call you for that.

He doesn't want to cry but he has to do the best that he can remember ever done to control himself not to cry. Dumbledore is not going to expel him. Dumbledore doesn't think it was him. 

He feels that maybe his soul can go back to his body. If it finds the way.

-And why did you call me, professor? I don't know anything - he defends himself. And later he adds, hurt, - 'only called me.

-Because I just wanted to talk to you Sirius.

- Why?

- Because, unfortunately, it won't be the last attack, son.

That night, in his own office, and without Sirius getting to understand why Dumbledore speaks to him for the first time about something that will mark the life of all wizards for generations. He tells him about the war that is coming, not just over Hogwarts, but over the entire wizarding world. Battles, he says, "we can't imagine even in our worst omens". He talks about the violence that has always been there but now floats towards the surface, from the depths of hatred.

- Some people attract that hatred, Sirius. A Slytherin student who does not get along with his companions. The children of Muggle families. -Does a pause. He chews the silence. - The werewolves.

Sirius chokes on his own heart. Lily. Remus.

No way. No way.

"Over my dead body first".

Larvating. It's the expression Dumbledore uses. Something is cooking up while they are talking. And he has proof, he says, that it was not Lucius Malfoy who attacked Daniel that night. Sirius finds it hard to believe but that is not what he worries him.

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