A Bit of a Run In


"Sirius? Am I in the right place? It's so dark in this closet—I can't see anything."

". . ."

"Oh—Merlin. Don't grab me like that. Scared the magic out of me, you did."

"My apologies, sir."

"I wish I could at least see your face—you pick the worst places to snog."

"You wanna little light, do ya?"

"What's wrong with your voice, Padfoot? Are you sick? Really, if you've got something contagious, let's just get out of here and take a rain check, yeah? I'm still catching up from the last full moon and I can't afford to miss more classes because you've gone and infected me with God knows what."

"Haven't got nothing contagious. D'ya wanna little light?"

"Ah—yes, yes, that would be nice. You've got your wand with you?"

"Haven't got no wand nothing. But I got this."

"Oh—the light—damn it, you nearly blinded me! Sirius—you're all—green—and—my God—is that—?"

"It's my downstairs mix-up."

"Your what?"

"My mangina. I gotta mangina. I'm Old Gregg."

". . ."

"You ever drunk Bailey's from a shoe?"

". . ."

"I like you. Whaddaya think of me?"

". . ."

"I'm Old Gregg."


"Oy, Remus!"


"There you are, Moony. I've been waiting for fifteen minutes. Had to go looking, finally."

"Well, I've been here. Seventh floor past the portrait of Hannibal the Hungry."

"That's Wednesday's spot. Today's Thursday. Fourth floor behind the statue of Rutherford the Rude."

"Oh, sod it all. Anyway, thank Merlin you're here. I had a bit of a run in with—well—I'm—I'm not sure what, actually. Made it out alive, anyway."



"Who's that there?"


"Behind you."

"I'm Old Gregg."


a/n: If you haven't seen Old Gregg, go to youtube and type in "Old Gregg" in the search box. Absolutely hysterical—it's an episode of The Mighty Boosh, funniest television show ever.