The Hall of Beasts
A young woman with light brown hair stood in a building with a dome over it. Her face was scarred, as if someone had taken a rake across it. She also walked with a staff, though it was clear that she used it not for support, but for something much more significant. Her youth was one thing that attested to this, for only the aged and feeble need canes to help them traverse.
Three loud bangs were heard a few feet away from the young woman, but she showed no signs of being startled, not even when a quarter-dozen figures stood mere feet away from her, where nobody had been so recently.
"Hello, Scarwoman. I see you've brought Hestia's Staff," said one of the three, a woman with long black hair and blue lipstick, her eyes glinting at the rod Lavender was holding.
"Don't call me that, Zeeforth," said the young woman.
"Oooh…look who's getting tetchy," said a man with a gray goatee and balding pate. "Gardurall expects a better temper from you, Lav-Lav."
"I could care less what Gardurall thinks! One day, he'll lick my foot."
"Miss Brown, please don't go insulting Gardurall. He is a highly skilled wizard and—"
"Garduall did not fight in the Second Wizarding War against You-Know-Who like I did," the young woman said. "I was almost killed by Fenrir Greyback, the fearsome werewolf, and that's how I got these!" She pointed to the scratches across her face.
"Who saved you, Scarwoman?"
"I—I don't know," Lavender said. "I was out cold. I never got to think whoever it was. I wish I knew his identity.'
"How do you know it wasn't a female?"
Lavender scowled at the speaker, the man with the goatee. "It had to be a boy. Do you know what I was before this blasted calamity? I was the prettiest witch who ever entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Every boy wanted me, but I only had eyes for Won-Won…" Her eyes became dreamy, thinking back to the time when she was beautiful.
"You're a vain little winter sprite, Scarwoman."
This snapped Lavender out of her reverie. "Zeeforth, get a life. Or no staff."
"If we do not leave with Hestia's staff, Lavender, I will personally rip your heart out and eat it."
"No need to present gruesome pictures to Miss Brown, Yvonne," said the third person. His hair was maroon and he wore robes of a mauve hue.
"So, where's the beauty supplies?" Lavender asked.
"Not available."
Lavender stared at the man in the goatee. "Hmmm…I seem to have had wax in my ears. For some odd reason, I thought I heard you say that you failed to bring the stuff that will beautify me."
"No, you heard us correctly."
"Then what in Morgan's name, did you dare come here for?" Lavender asked, her voice threatening to rise to an unbearable level.
"Morgan? She swears by Morgan?" the other woman asked, dumbfounded.
"Yes, I swear by Morgan. Merlin is an over-hyped wizard; Morgan la Fay was the witch; she represents true magnificence simply because she was female, and Merlin male."
"Oooh…we have a feminist on our hands," Yvonne Zeeforth said, snidely.
Lavender took such offence at this that she raised the staff. "I will break this in two if you don't give me a good reason not to. I'll give you to the count of three. One…two…thr—"
"NO!" shouted the man with the goatee. "If you do that, Gardurall will kill us!"
"Well, you all can kiss my foot, because I simply do not care."
She glared at them all. The glaring made her no less ugly; the marks where Fenrir had slashed her were horribly gruesome. She had not kissed a boy in six years.
"Miss Brown" said the mauve-robed man. "We have something better than beauty for you."
"Better than beauty? I want someone to love me, Corjack! Do you understand that?"
"Miss Brown, everyone wants to be loved and fondled."
"But no one needs it the way I do. I want a way to win back Won-Won, and inspire him to divorce that spiteful Hermione Granger." She spat on the ground as she said the last name.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley is extremely happy with his wife, and their daughter Rose. He'd never just throw it all away for you," continued the one in mauve.
"Yes he would! He will! If I can just find the right kind of attraction…"
"Such as Amorentia?" the man with a goatee asked. He held up a flask with a mother-of-pearl liquid in it.
"That…is that what I think it is?"
"Yes, Lav-Lav. This is the world's most powerful love potion. Some would say the most powerful potion period."
"How do I know it will work?" Lavender asked, her eyes unable to veil her greed.
"Easy. One of us will drink it. Then you will order him to lick your shoes. If he does it, he must have great affection for you. If he refuses, you will know it is a bluff."
Lavender was so eager to see this occur that she pushed down hard on the staff. It slipped from her fingers and Hestia almost picked it up.
"Accio Staff!" Lavender shouted, getting her head back. Yvonne Zeeforth pulled out her wand and used the selfsame Summoning Charm. Nothing happened.
"Huh?" she asked, staring blankly at the staff.
"Hah!" Lavender laughed. "Old Gardurall didn't tell you about this staff, did he, Zeeforth? There is no possible way to use a Summoning Charm on it unless it has been offered to you by the owner. Hestia offered it to me, so I can Summon it. I will not offer it to you until I have what I desire. So for now, it resides with me."
Yvonne looked so livid that she might use the Killing Curse on Lavender right there. But Gardurall told her that to do so while someone had the Staff in their hands would be sheer suicide. Besides, Yvonne had never managed to successfully perform the Killing Curse, for whatever reason.
"So, the potion," said the man in mauve. "I will summon Stabi to come to drink it, and thus we shall prove it works."
This caused Lavender to give a roar of malicious laughter. "Stabi? I would never give you the staff on proof such as that! Stabi loves every girl within five years of his own age. He'd lick my shoes without the potion."
The three looked at each other uncomfortably. "Fine, then I will drink it," said the man with a goatee. He pulled the stopper off the flask and raised the latter to his mouth.
"Wait, Kobold," said Yvonne, breathing heavily as if she had just run a race. The man lowered the flask to listen. "What if—what if you end up stuck in love with Scarface forever?"
"I won't, Yvonne. Love potions aren't permanent. You have to keep on drinking them continuously for them to remain potent."
The wizard drank some of the potion, and for a second remained as he always had been. But then his head swooned, and he noticed no one bur Lavender.
"Lick my shoes," she ordered, in a domineering tone.
He bent down on the floor and opened his mouth, revealing his tongue, and running it all over Lavender's Mary Jordan's, which she had purchased from a Muggle shoe store, with help from a kid named Bernie, who understood Muggle money. The wizard licked her shoelaces enthusiastically, and the heels of the shoes seemed to be his favorite part. Lavender, who hadn't had anyone this fond of her since she was seventeen, simply reveled in it. At last the deed was done, and Kobold stood up.
"Now we make the exchange," Yvonne said, her eyes greedily surveying the staff.
"Yes," said Lavender. Yvonne handed her the flask, and Lavender gave the staff to her.
Yvonne and the wizard in mauve Disapparated immediately. But Kobold still stood there.
"What are you waiting for?" Lavender asked, coldly.
"I was hoping for a kiss before I departed."
"Well, you can go without one, then! Apart from the fact that I hold absolutely no attraction for you, your lips and tongue are now covered with the grime from my shoes! Now scram!"
Kobold looked as if his heart had broken, but he only remained a maximum of three seconds before vanishing.
Lavender kissed the flask. It would help her win back her most precious, the only man in the world she craved.
