Waiting on a Friend

Daily Prophet's OBITUARIES

17 December 1992…

Cane Stirling was found dead in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries…
Autopsy revealed Stirling choked on his own tongue sometime during the night… died at age 36…
was committed to St. Mungo's after suffering extensive and inhuman torture at the hands of his cousin,
the Death Eater Ascanius Stirling…

XXX

The day after they found Justin Finch-Fletchy and Nearly Headless Nick's petrified bodies, Corvus and Anwar were walking to the library. "We should look into spells that protect against petrifaction," Corvus decided. "Then we can tell Dung what exactly he needs to find for us."

The body of Headless Nick greatly disturbed the school, whatever this monster was, not even ghosts were safe from it. Corvus felt vaguely guilty for purposely selling cheap, dud protective charms. So now the Salesmen were going to actually make an effort to protect their customers. But they weren't lowering any prices, naturally.

"Might be smart to find out what monsters there are that petrify its victims like that," suggested Anwar. "I've got Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow, I'll ask Kettleburn about it."

"It has to be a small or stealthy creatures, doesn't it? I mean otherwise, how can it get around the school with no one noticing it?" Corvus made himself stop. He wasn't going to think too much about this. It did him no good. "I wouldn't worry about discovering what's behind the attacks, we've only got to think about how to supply appropriately-"

WHAM!

Something heavy struck Corvus in the back of the head. A familiar moldy potato fell to the ground at his feet. He spun around, his face flushed and his eyes ferociously zooming in on the fool who had thrown it.

Standing a few steps away was a stout blonde Hufflepuff with a friend. What is this? Everyone in Hufflepuff lost their bloody minds? Corvus thought irritably.

"You should be disgusted with yourselves!" he shouted. "What Salazar's Salesmen are doing is no better than war profiteering!"

He barely finished when Anwar sprung on him. He grabbed the front of his collar and slammed him against the wall. His friend, Hannah Abbott, ran to get help. Corvus was right next to Anwar, his wand pressed against the boy's throat like a knife.

"Do you know who this pile of steaming dung is?"

"Ernie Macmillan, second year," growled Anwar.

"I'm guessing you're the one who threw that potato, Macmillan."

"That's right!" Macmillan mustered up whatever courage he had. "You sold Justin Finch-Fletchy that thing, he bought it to protect him from Slytherin's monster."

"Firstly," Corvus started as his wand made ominous sizzling noises, "We're not Salazar's Salesmen, so we have no idea what you're talking about. Secondly, when the Salesmen throw a dog a bone, they don't want to know if it tastes good or not. Cross me again, and I'll be sending you back to your mother in pieces."

Then for the second time in five days he struck a Hufflepuff with a Stinging Hex. Anwar gladly let Macmillan fall to the ground in a painful heap.

"Finch-Fletchy didn't have the bloody potato on him," spat Anwar. "Or you wouldn't have had it on ye to chuck at my mate's head. Maybe if he had, he'd still be here. So don't go accusing the Salesmen of conning anyone."

Macmillan rolled around holding his face. He screamed something, probably cursing them to hell, but it was mostly incoherent and shameful sobs.

"We should probably get out of here," said Corvus finally. But it was too late.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" Professor Sprout rounded the corner, Hannah Abbot nervously tailing her. "Blackstone! Rajan! Stop this minute!"

"I guess this means detention," sighed Anwar.

X
X

For detention they were forced to decorate the ground floor in Christmas cheer. Naturally they weren't allowed to use magic. Forced to wake up at the crack of dawn, they had to go into the deathly cold to help Hagrid chop down twelve evergreen trees for the Great Hall. After they spent all morning lugging trees into the castle, Filch had them deck the Great Hall with boughs of holy and all that extra Christmas rubbish.

Though it was officially lunchtime, Filch wouldn't let them off. Luckily the older years were away at the last Hogsmeade trip of the term. Still, there were enough people eating in the Great Hall to stare at them and make them feel put on display.

"Hand me that reef," Corvus reached his hand back to Anwar. He was on the ladder while Anwar held it steady.

"I don't think those reefs are sixteen inches apart."

"Don't really care, let Filch fix it without a wand himself." Anwar snickered and handed Corvus the next reef. He balanced the reef on his head like a halo while he carefully hammered in a nail to hang it on. Corvus then threw the reef onto the nail. "Alright I'm coming down," he warned.

He climbed down the ladder and at the bottom he found Morag MacDougal, again with a sassy smile. "Hey, Blackstone."

"Hey," breathed Corvus. Dressed for manual labor, he was a bit on the shabby side appearance-wise, but something about the way her brown eyes surveyed him told Corvus she didn't mind.

"I was just talking about you today," she told him. At the Great Hall's entrance there was a giggling group of girls watching them.

"Yeah?" smirked Corvus. Even though they weren't really saying anything, Corvus felt a rush of excitement talking to her. As if every word was new and amazing.

"Yeah," she bit her lip coyly. "I was saying how I hardly see you around school anymore. But I guess someone like you is always busy, huh?"

"Alright, alright! No talking to the prisoners!" Filch limped over speedily. Morag gave a helpless shrug and returned to her friends. Her friends grabbed hold of her and showered her with whispered inquiries. Together they rushed out of the Great Hall, Morag looked back at him three times.

"Stop ye grinning!" ordered Filch. He shoved another reef in Corvus's hands for him to hang, then hobbled off again.

"Interesting," said Anwar, "that girl had the same look on her face my mum's cat gets when he's hunting field mice."

X
X

The students signed up to leave for the Christmas holidays were meeting in the Entrance Hall. Out of the Salesmen, only Max and Corvus were staying. "It's going to be like, what, just you and Max left in the entire castle?" said Louis as they exited the commons.

"My parents won't let me stay, not with all the attacks. Jamal told them, " Anwar said gloomily. He usually stayed at school for the holidays. Holidays meant family gatherings, and Anwar never enjoyed gatherings of any kind.

Corvus was sure if his mother knew of the attacks, she would demand that he come home for the holidays as well. But Corvus had kept his lips sealed about the attacks. He didn't want to worry his mother. Besides, he wasn't a target. And the Salesmen were taking precautions on their nightly runs. Corvus had more shifts than anyone else, since no one wanted to be stuck with Jeremy more than they had to and because Corvus insisted on watching Max's back.

"I sort of what to stick around to see if something happens again," Jeremy confessed.

"This year's shaping up to be really rubbish, isn't it?" huffed Louis, ignoring Jeremy. "You know, I had this year pegged to be my best year yet."

"Really?" Max asked, surprised. "Why this year?"

"Well, this year I finally get to play Quidditch," he reminded them. "And it's our third year."

"So?"

"So? So we're allowed to go to Hogsmeade on weekends!"

"Louis, we've been going to Hogsmeade several times a week since our first year," Corvus told him.

"Yeah, at like three in the morning to hang out in an outhouse like queer losers," he said exasperatedly. "Hogsmeade weekends are awesome, I know, my sisters and Claude told me all about them."

"They aren't that awesome," Anwar mumbled.

"That's because this whole Chamber of Secrets drama has overshadowed them," he exclaimed. He was really getting worked up over this. "You know Hogsmeade weekends mean date weekends, right? Claude says everyone starts going out now. He had three different girls his third year!"

"You planned on beating his record then?" Corvus smirked.

"Maybe! I am part Veela. This year was supposed to be about making money, playing Quidditch and getting girls."

"But Slytherin's heir's ruined it?"

"Yeah, who wants to date when there's a monster on the loose?" They laughed, except for Jeremy whose lips pursed sourly. They queued up to have their names checked off the travel list. Standing in front of them was Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe.

"Hello," greeted Marietta cheerfully.

"You're not going home for the holiday?" Cho asked Max sharply. "Why not?"

"Huh? Oh, my family's got a lot of stuff to do," he lied. Really it was so they could have more intensive Animagi sessions without constantly dodging everyone. "Wouldn't get much rest there."

Cho narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Corvus remembered the nasty looks she gave him during Dueling Club, and he was offended all over again. "What's your problem, Chang?" he demanded.

"I think it's dangerous to stay here with Slytherin's heir," Cho told him.

"It might be for some, but not for me and Max," said Corvus arrogantly. Cho took a deep breath and turned to face the entrance again. They bid their friends good-bye and a happy Christmas before heading back to the commons. Alone in the dungeon corridors, Corvus asked Max about what Cho had said at the Dueling Club.

Max chuckled, "Oh, yeah, that." He checked to see absolutely no one was around them. "Cho knows about me being… you know," he said out the corner of his mouth.

"How did she know? Did you tell her and not me?"

"She was the first person I met, we sat together on the Hogwarts Express," explained Max. "She figured it out on her own." It bothered Corvus that she had figured it out when she first met Max while it took two years for him to find out.

"Yeah but she was talking about me too. Don't try telling me she wasn't, I could tell. If looks could kill, she'd have done me in several times that night."

"She was warning me not to trust you."

"What? Where the hell does she get off telling you that?"

"She's never liked you much," smirked Max, "and like everyone else in the school, she's trying to figure out whose Slytherin's heir. She thought it was you, and you'd try to attack me next."

Corvus stopped in his tracks. Max laughed.

"Come on. You're pureblood, a Slytherin and from an economical standpoint, all these attacks have boosted our sales exponentially. We've gotten away with doubling our prices on nearly everything," he said, "It makes sense that you'd orchestrate these attacks. Honestly, we couldn't have asked for a better consumer incentive."

"And what did you tell her?" he asked coldly.

"Obviously I told her you nor I were apart of the Salesmen. Then I told her you'd never harm anyone just because they weren't pureblood or in Slytherin."

"Or for money," Corvus added. "The Salesmen can survive perfectly well without the Chamber of Secrets."

"Right," nodded Max. They continued walking.

X
X

This time of the year was particularly special for him and his mom. Leandra's birthday was on the 20th, they went out every year for a big breakfast and then in the evening began the Spicy Chili Marathon. Every night until Christmas day they ate Leandra's signature spicy chili. It was her signature dish because it was the only thing she knew how to cook. And it was the best chili ever. Due to her busy work-schedule, some years they only ate chili for those five days in December. They started the Spicy Chili Marathon tradition when Corvus was eight years old. This was the first time they had broken it.

But his mother surprised him when she sent over chili each day between the 20th and the 25th. She even sent an extra serving for Max to enjoy. Max agreed that her chili was the best he'd ever had. On top of her gifts of chili, on Christmas morning Corvus woke up to a mountain of presents. He got new robes, a leather-bound sketchbook, a Moke-skinned coin purse, a thick winter cloak and dragon-skinned boots.

Corvus propped his feet up on the rough stone wall as he lounged over an armchair in the Slytherin commons after the Christmas feast. He was admiring his new boots in the warm light of the fireplace. He wondered what Morag would think of them…

Max had gone to the Owlry to send a letter. When the stone door slid open, he lazily looked over to see if it was him, but it was Malfoy. Corvus saw Malfoy leave earlier to go find Crabbe and Goyle. Apparently he had something he wanted to show them.

"Good you're here too, Blackstone," Malfoy smiled. "It's really funny. Father's just sent it to me- wait here."

He went into the dormitory. Corvus watched as Crabbe and Goyle curiously took their seats. They were moving rather awkwardly, as if they were trying to be casual. They grew rather flustered under Corvus's stare.

Malfoy returned a minute later with a newspaper cutting. He handed it first to Corvus, who slid into a proper sitting position again.

The article was about Arthur Weasley being fined for bewitching a Muggle car. The same car his son and Harry Potter crashed into the Whomping Willow. He read it quickly, finishing with the line 'Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the ghoul on them.' "I thought Weasley's wife was the family ghoul," sneered Corvus as he handed the article to Crabbe.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were purebloods, the way they behave."

Corvus frowned at Crabbe, whose face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" asked Malfoy sharply.

"Stomach ache."

"Well, go to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering. Corvus rolled his eyes, unimpressed. This kid had said the word 'Mudblood' more times than Corvus was bothered to count. Yet it was clear Malfoy still got a thrill saying it in public. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet."

"Dumbledore's keeping it under wraps," said Corvus. "Can't be good for his image."

"He'll get sacked if it doesn't stop soon," said Malfoy gleefully. "Father's always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. A decent Headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in." He started to do his Creevey impressions, which Corvus couldn't help but laugh to. But Malfoy dropped the act and looked at his two large friends. "What's the matter with you two?" This prompted them to laugh. Corvus didn't believe they were that slow. "Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," said Malfoy slowly. "And people think he's Slytherin's heir! I wish I know who it is. I could help them."

Corvus laughed curtly.

Goyle spoke up, "But you must have some idea who's behind it all…" His beady eyes were jumping between Corvus and Malfoy's face.

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Malfoy. "Father won't tell me too much about the last time the Chamber was opened. But I know one thing, the last time the Chamber was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's only a matter of time before one of them's killed this time… I hope it's Granger."

Corvus found it troubling that Crabbe was clenching his fists angrily. What's going on with these two? But Malfoy didn't notice.

"Father says to keep my head down and let the heir of Slytherin to get on with it," said Malfoy. "Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry raided our house last week? They didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor-"

"Ho!" said Crabbe abruptly. He was blushing, so deeply in fact that it reached his hairline… no wait, his hair was actually turning red! And was his nose growing?

Crabbe shot Goyle a look of panicked horror. Both of them got to their feet. Crabbe grunted, "Medicine for my stomach!"

Without further ado they sprinted the length of the commons, hurled themselves at the stone door and dashed through the passage.

"That was weird," said Malfoy after a lengthy pause.

X
X

Corvus held up a lit candle in his right hand and his wand in his left. He smiled cruelly.

"So, tell me, should I burn the lot of you with strawberry-kiwi scented candle light," he lift up the thick pink candle, "Or should I use good old, odorless magic on you?"

He was standing in front of the wall covered with Lockhart's photographs of himself. Him and Max were in Lockhart's classroom. It was the middle of January, everyone was back from the holidays and the never-ending cycle of Animagi, Salesmen, homework began anew. But Corvus didn't mind it. He sort of loved it really.

The photographed-selves of Lockhart all quivered and screamed silently in their glossy snapshots. They were horrified. Some tried hiding behind the edges of their frames. Corvus laughed diabolically. "Mwahaha! Maybe I'll use a little of both!"

"Don't," said Max, tonelessly, "Polaroid emits a highly toxic fume when set on fire."

"They don't know that!" The little Lockharts jumped for joy. "Way to ruin my fun," Corvus blew out the candle with a huff. Instead he pointed his wand at the candle, "Reptifora!"

He smiled smugly to himself as the pink candle turned into a pink speckled rattlesnake. The snake peacefully coiled itself around his wrist.

"I have an idea," announced Corvus. "Let's turn all his furniture into reptiles."

"It would just confuse him," shrugged Max, "It wouldn't be that funny."

"It's a shame you can't transfigure things into magical creatures," Corvus sighed as he raised the pink rattlesnake to eyelevel. "I would pay anything to see Lockhart get jumped by pixies again."

Max chuckled. He was looking through an anatomy book, specifically studying the section on chameleons. With transfiguration, turning an object into a creature is only the first step. It takes a lot to transfigure an object into precise creature. For example, you can turn a shoe into a frog. That would be impressive. But what's more impressive is if you turn the shoe into a White's Tree Frog rather than a Tyler's Tree Frog. It takes more talent to be precise, to be perfect.

"I'm going to turn this into a male, Parson's chameleon," Max told Corvus while taping his wand on a chair beside him. A Parson's chameleon is very large specie of chameleon that is endemic to isolated pockets of humid primary forest in eastern and northern Madagascar. Males have ridges running from above his eyes to the nose forming two warty horns. "And it's going to be," he leaned to read out of the book, "A Calumma p. parsonii subspecie, with an orange eye variant."

Corvus patiently waited with his rattlesnake.

"Reptifora!"

The chair did turn into a male Parson's chameleon that measured 68cm in length with no dorsal crest, meaning it was a Calumma p. parsonii, but it didn't have an orange eye variant.

"Ha, ha."

Max tried the spell again, this time getting it right. They practiced for a few more minutes, but Corvus called it quits when it was quarter to curfew. They turned everything back into furniture. Lockhart's wall of self-portraits sighed with relief as they headed out.

"Do you reckon it's over with?" asked Max abruptly.

Corvus frowned. "What's over?"

"The attacks," he replied. To an untrained ear his tone might sound placid, but Corvus easily picked up the easiness his friend spoke with. It was also in his stride. Since the very first attack, going back and forth, alone in corridors, Max walked in a choppy, quick manner, but now he was relaxed again.

"Whether it is or not, Chang owes me an apology."

Max laughed.


O..o

o..O

Okay so I quoted directly from the book for the scene with Crabbe and Goyle. I quoted directly for the Duelling Club scene too, so... Has anyone seen the movie Snatch? Good movie, and I quoted that too, haha the part where Corvus says when the salesmen 'gives a dog a bone...' that's from the movie, if you have seen it, you will agree, it's pretty badasss :P
Sorry for alert-peeps, I had to rewrite a line, yes just a line. Actually no, two! Anyway I wanted to put it in that the Salesmen wanted to look for spells against petrification, not because they'd be able to use it for new products, but so Dung can specifically look for things on the black market outside of hogwarts. The Salesmen get Dung to get them most of the advanced-magical things. The Salesmen are capable wizards, yes, but they're thriteen/fourteen years old, haha one day they won't need Dung, but not yet :)