ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 6: Naked Truth

Two weeks after their first detention in this term (and as Parker didn't get tired to repeat, the last in this life) Beata Sprinkles literally climbed the wall.

Restless and ever-bored girl found an article in the muggle newspaper about strange people calling themselves climbers. Those cranks found the whole point of their life in creeping up the steep surface, being tied with ropes as if someone had been practicing Incarcerous on them all day.

"And why do you think Quidditch is better?" the Ravenclaw asked, mockingly watching how her friend tried to climb to the nearest window in order to show her tongue to first-years bored in the History of Magic classroom on the second floor.

"Because, Parker... since ancient times... people wanted... to learn... to fly... not to cling to the walls," Beata said breathlessly, miraculously holding onto the wall at four meters height.

Last night she went to the Forbidden Forest, where she ruthlessly shredded a couple of thick branches. In the morning, she put the Sticking Charm on them. Now wooden sticks were glued to the wall so that Beata had to make an incredible effort to move them a dozen centimeters higher.

"If you say so," Emily giggled. "Oh, Black will make you a company."

"What are you talking about?"

"He climbs the wall too. A couple of seconds and you can say hello to each other."

Then came Beata's screech, a somewhat obscene Black's comment about abnormal Slytherins whom he started to meet suspiciously often on his way, and dull crackle of branches that broke under the weight of two unfortunate conquerors of heights.

"Black! I almost reached the goal!"

"You? You have to crawl and crawl!" disheveled Gryffindor was indignant, however, not interested what specifically the 'goal' was. 

"I'll tell you a secret, Sprinkles," he continued in a whisper. "Wizards invented brooms long ago. You can always ask someone to show you how they work – "

"Black, have you ever held a broom? Or is it beneath your aristocratic dignity?"

"Will you shut up? You'll alarm the professors," Parker said nervously, still remembering her recent detention. However, she couldn't help but laugh, watching her friend and Black creep out of the bushes.

"Parker! It's you again?" Black came closer, dusting himself off. "Anyway, why aren't you two in Hogsmeade?"

"Beata said that she had gone all the way around Hogsmeade and she wouldn't find anything interesting there, and it seemed to be a novelty to fall off the wall."

"She looks as if she does it daily."

"Look at yourself!"

"What about me? It was a necessary sacrifice. James and I were punished," Black said sadly. "Filch is wandering behind the portrait opening so to not let us out. By the way, where is Prongs? He was right behind me."

Sirius looked back just in time to capture graceful flight of James Potter in his memory. In a couple of moments later, the boy was able to finally rise from the ground, cursing Filch and McGonagall for locking his broom.

"Parker, why do you smell like lilies again?" Sirius grimaced, sniffing warily.

Girls looked at each other with interest.

"What do you mean, Black?" Parker stared at him. He stepped back cautiously.

"I mean, that scent... I smelled it then, in Transfiguration class."