All kinds of food appeared on the four long tables in an instant.
The young wizards were ravenous, too. Seeing Shawn calmly return to his seat at the Slytherin table,
they began to tuck in as well.
Quite a few, however, whispered among themselves as they wolfed down their food.
Before, they had only heard that the two Blacks did not get along. After what they had seen today, the two were clearly like fire and water.
Whose side should they take from now on? Was there even a choice?
Of course, Harry was the most miserable of all. Nothing he ate or drank tasted good, and his brows were nearly knotted together.
In fact, he had helped persuade Sirius to come to Hogwarts.
Sirius was a little short on money, yet too proud to accept financial help from Harry, so finding a job was necessary.
That way, the father and son could also see each other often.
Harry had even made all sorts of plans to ease the tension between the Chief and his godfather. Now, however, that goal seemed impossibly far away.
Despite having just suffered a setback, Sirius had already sauntered over to the Gryffindor table to have dinner with his godson.
His table manners were painful to watch. The young Lions nearby blinked at him.
Both were Blacks, so why was the difference so great?
Harry, on the other hand, was used to it. He had once even imagined that his godfather would teach him etiquette.
Ah, I was too naïve back then.
During the incident earlier, Moody, who was even more prone to anger, had watched the interactions between Dumbledore, Shawn, Sirius, and the others with his alchemical eye the entire time.
No one knew what he was weighing up in his mind. Before the