Black-and-white (Translation)

❤️2. Letters - Despair - New hate

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace in a very inelegant way and would probably have gotten closer to the Headmaster's floor if Snape hadn't grabbed his arm.

Well, as he hated magical locomotion, well except for flying, no matter what, he could not stand any magical travel opportunity. But above all, the floo troubles him, especially in his current physical condition. It was anything but advisable to be thrown through a dozen fireplaces. For that reason, he had to be very proficient in order not to scream at Snape's firm grip, which he immediately released after Harry had regained his balance, but the boy could not resist a slight gasp. What worried him, is called an eyebrow raised to the hairline, the rest of Snape’s face did not move a millimeter, as if the brow had a mind of their own and tried to flee from their facial prison. How did the guy do that?

"Hello Harry, my boy, nice to see you. How are you?"

Torn from his thoughts, Harry looked around for the director's familiar face and found it sitting behind his desk, smiling cheerfully. The boy wondered, as he had so many times, whether his director was not colorblind, otherwise he could not explain the color combination of his clothes, in which every chameleon had capitulated.

"Good morning, Professor, I'm fine (which was a lie). I hope so, all of you? "With these words, Harry now looked around the room. Sitting right next to Dumbledore, smiling at him kindly, his housekeeper and lion-mother, Professor McGonagall,  the Gringotts employee, Griphook, was enthroned on the left side of the director, smiling too, which one did not notice, if they were not really well-informed, because that quite friendly smile looked more like a wolfish grin, with the sharp, long teeth and wide mouth.

The first time Harry was smiled at by a goblin in this way, he felt like a rabbit being chosen as the next main meal.

By now, he was used to that gesture, as he knew now. Not only in the summer vacations for his third year at Hogwarts, had he stalked Diagon Alley, but also visited the bank very often to find out more about his accounts and about the magical world. During these conversations, it turned out that the goblins were not only knowledgeable about money, but that they also knew a great deal about history and were able to explain it extremely well and entertainingly. All abilities that Professor Binns lacked; on the contrary, Professor Binns’ lessons seemed to be fleeing from the mind like cats in a bubble bath.

In any case, while talking to Griphook and the other goblins, Harry had found out a lot about their culture and lives, and he realized what kind, intelligent and funny beings they were.

So Harry was right in saying that he had made friends with the goblins and especially Griphook, a fact he was very proud of, especially since Griphook, the director of Gringotts, had told him that very few wizards did make an effort to know other beings.

Something else that the adolescent did not understand in this world.

"Harry, my dear boy, sit down."

Completely beside him, Harry stared into the demanding faces of the adults.

This was embarrassing with Morgana's ladybeard, but lately he seemed to be living in his head.

With his red face and glowing ears up to the hairline, the boy sat down on the chair offered to him, and to his left was Professor I-star-in-the-forgotten Snape. Oh, joy! to Harry's relief, as soon as he had made himself comfortable, he had already been approached by Fawkes, who had been watching everything sitting on his pole, and, as always, settled on Harry's lap so that he could hide behind the plumage of the bird and so before the spiked eyes were spared. Fawkes sang some notes and closed his big eyes with relish.

"Now that everyone's here, anyone want tea?" Dumbledore asked. After everyone had a cup and biscuit that Harry was trying to ignore, the teenager looked inquiringly around among the four adults before he caught sight of Griphook.