#ch18

The baby Yozakuras are so cute ahhhhhhhh <3 I can't get over how little they are! I guess they'd all be 5 and under in this video, which explains why they're so itty-bitty. Even Kyoichiro is adorably tiny. And is Goliath biting Kyoichiro's leg??? I guess the "guard dog" aspect only applies when you're not Kyoichiro ahakdhjkahsdahjdha.

The four boys—seated and slouching against an open wall of the Astronomy Tower—laughed at this, while Sirius drank. The black sky stretched cloudless overhead, and the Marauders—unaffected by the chilly air—watched it for some time. "Almos' a new moon," Remus pointed out. "It's a good time for me." "Hmm," hummed Sirius. "'Wish it were that simple... knowin' how ever-ya-thing is gonna be just 'cos of the moon." Remus snorted. "Han' me the bottle, ya prat." Sirius complied. "Yeah, dess-ined for a life of pover—poverty and i-i-isolation." He drank deeply. "Tha's simple for ya." "Hey, I'm destinated for poverty too!" argued Sirius petulantly. "I got—was—got disowned. No... more... fortune." He grabbed the bottle back and drank. "Well I vener—er—never had any galleons to begin with," said Peter, taking the bottle from Sirius. "I were—was borned poor." "You're all bloody planks," said James irritably. "I'm sodding rich—ya think I'm-a let ya starve, Moony? Same with ya other two swots. Ya can live in one-o my six millions houses, s'long as I don' have to see ya too much." "Oh, Prons," sighed Sirius, laying his head on James's shoulder. "Ya care." "Ergh—gerroff me!" Sirius laughed, pulling his head up and leaning it against the wall behind him instead. "Anyway," James continued eventually; "y'know you won' be poverty...er... in poverty. 'Cos I'm rich. An' as for your 'is-o-lation,' Mr. Moony... we... are the Mar'ders. An' even though Padfoot's a lairy headcase, an' Wormtail's a soddin' lightweight, an' you get all sen-a-men-al 'bout the moon, Moony, an' I am too good for the lot o' ya—none-uv-us... is-a-ever ... goin' to be... isolated."

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.