Gypsy Magic: The Yoska Frescka Chronicles
Chapter 11: The Trick
AN: Hey guys, it's time again. After an obscene amount of time I am continuing Yoska's story. Thank you for your patience, and hopefully you won't be disappointed. Without further adieu, let's get to it.
For the student of Hogwarts, the end of May is the worst time of the year. In a school filled with dangerous mystical creatures and hundreds of untrained, and often unpredictable, underage wizards, it is these last two weeks that send the greatest number of students to the Infirmary. The prospect of exams always brings high achieving students to tears and makes scholars out of slackers who might not have been cracked open their textbooks all year. Calming Droughts are in high demand and more than one fifth year will end up shelling out dozens of Galleons to skilled potioneers that can produce palpable results.
Instead of profiting off of his prodigious potion brewing skills, Yoska spends much of his time protecting the younger students from their crafty senior classmates. When brewed incorrectly, Calming potions can cause a variety of side effects ranging from orange pus leaking from the elbows to vivid hallucinations. Despite the risks and the rise in sale of fraudulent potions, Professor Snape has done little to dissuade economically inspired students from exploiting their gullible classmates. Yoska vividly remembers him telling his N.E.W.T class that any student stupid enough to actually buy a potion brewed by a novice deserved the consequences, and more importantly had not paid very much attention in Snape's own lectures.
Still, Yoska thinks to himself as he approaches a seventh year Ravenclaw dipping a flask into a bubbling robin egg blue concoction as an eager fifth year Hufflepuff watches eagerly with a leather pouch gripped in his hand, There's no harm in keeping a few of these con artists in check.
"Sastipe," Yoska greets with a wide smile. The seventh year from his house jumps, knocking some of the potion on the ground. Yoska pretends not to notice the subtle smell of garlic wafting from the cauldron. A clear sign of a misbrewed potion and guilt. "What's going on here guys?"
"Nothing that concerns you Frescka," The seventh year, a slightly chubby tall boy with ginger hair, calmly replies, "Just helping out a poor soul about to take her O. ."
The girl grins sheepishly, trying to hide her twitching left hand. A bag sways dangerously at her side, weighed down with thick books and a multitude of notes. There are dark rings under her eyes and ink stains on her hands. Noticing his gaze, she quickly hides her sack of coins, which Yoska notices looks much smaller than when he first saw it, into her robes.
"I can see that," Yoska says, adopting a softer tone, "I remember when I took mine last year I think I studied even on my broom stick."
"Perhaps you should have focused on practicing more," The older boy suggests in a tongue in cheek reference, "You must keep your mind open while in the air, wouldn't want to get hit by a stray bludger now would we mate?"
"That would be unfortunate," Yoska laughs, his mind flashing back to his embarrassing loss at the House Final, "Still, I managed to pass most of my O. with an 'O' if I recall. Including potions. But and you'll have to forgive me, if I recall you did not attend the mandatory lecture Professor Snape gave to his N.E.W.T students three days ago. And I am sure I would have seen you, there were only twenty students there. Only five of which were from Ravenclaw."
"I'm a seventh year," The boy counters, "So we wouldn't have been in the same lecture."
"Both classes had to attend," Yoska pushes, never dropping his smile, "You're not a N.E.W.T student."
"What are you getting at?" The older boy coyly answers, "Are you saying that my potion making skills are somehow inept? This potion, though I needn't remind you, is an O.W.L level potion. As you can see, this particular variant calls for the robin egg blue color. It's the Isle of Mann brew, a much weaker but longer lasting variety of the Drought of calming. This young lass needs help sleeping through the night so, instead of bothering us, why don't you bugger off?"
"Such language," Yoska playfully scolds, "But I suppose you're right, it really is none of my business."
Yoska waves them goodbye, whispering the spell Papen under his breath. A gust of wind rolls in from the south, knocking the cauldron of deficient potion all over the hallway. A frustrated wail is heard from the older Ravenclaw student as he tries to salvage what he can from his scam.
"Imi pare rau," Yoska exclaims as he pulls out his wand, "Such terrible luck. Let me help you, scrougify!"
The potion vanishes, leaving nothing but the clean bricks of Hogwarts. Nothing remains of the older student's sham of a potion. All he can do is gap at the loss of potential profit before sulking away. Yoska cannot help but genuinely smile as the older boy grumbles under his breath.
"Sorry about your nerves," Yoska says, turning towards the silent girl, "But that potion would have just made things worse. You're supposed to add Buttercups grown under a rock with purple dragon moss on its right side in order to makes the Isle of Mann variant of the Drought of Calming. If you had swallowed a bottle of that you would be bedridden for at least a week, or worse."
"Th...thank you," The girl stutters, "I was ju...just so nervous about my ex…exam."
"Understandable thera," Yoska soothes, reaching into his robe and pulling out a small vial of grey potion, "Got a flask?"
The girl struggle to find one in her oversized bag, so Yoska offers one of his own. Being very careful, he uncorks his own potion and pours a sliver of its contents into the flask. Double checking to make sure he gave her the right amount, he hands her the grey potion. She looks at him surprised, reaching into her robe to retrieve her coin purse again.
"No need," Yoska says, waving her off, "Free of charge. Just be careful to not take any more than that. That stuff is bloody addicting. It's a potion developed by Professor Snape, it will help you sleep. But learning to study in smaller sections would probably help too."
The fifth year looks down at the bottle, too stunned to say anything. Yoska gives her a quick salute and continues on his way, making sure to secure his precious supply of potion left. Ever since the House Cup, his supply had begun to run dangerously low. He shudders as the echo of a decade old explosion runs through his memories.
"Ar…are you Yos…Yoska Fre….Frescka?" The girl calls out to his back.
"Yes I am Miss…"
"Sophia," The girls answers, "Sophia Qui…Quirrell."
"I think I've heard that name before," Yoska comments, tilting his head, "The Post had an article about his travels in Transylvania a while back, I also heard he was back in London. Quirinus was his first name right? He accepted a post here to take over for Amelia Bones as Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, is he a relative of yours?"
"He's mmmy uncle," Sophia Quirrell tells him with a hint of pride, "B...but th..th…that's not the mess…message."
"Why would anyone want to talk to me?" Yoska asks with a shrug, "Ever since the Cup no one has really had a urge to talk to me?"
"Me..me…meet me…me a…a…a…at mi…din…ni…night near the o…o..old…wi…wi…witch wi…with a…a…hump. C…c…come a..a…alone." Sophia stutters out, sounding relived to be finished talking.
"Did this person say why?" Yoska asks, gently pushing her with his question.
"No."
Yoska shakes his head, "Probably another one of Flint's pranks."
"It wa…was a gi..gi,.."
"A girl?" Yoska finishes, "A girl asked you to tell me this?"
Sophia nods, pink forming around her cheeks. Feeling bad, Yoska apologizes for making the girl talk so long. He bows, and biding the girl fair well. Despite having a foot of charms homework due, Yoska does not go to the library. Instead, he makes his way to the lake, pulling out a wrinkled letter as he sits down.
Only two words are written on it, Good Luck, and he had found it right before his game with Slytherin. Twice now he had gotten a message from a girl, and his heart skips a beat thinking of the possibility. He sprawls out onto the grass, laughing quietly t himself in elation.
"Delia," Yoska says to the sky as he hold the message over his head, "I hope you've come around."
AN: Sorry for the second author's note guys. Thank you for reading this chapter, it's been great slipping back into Yoska's skin and trying to pick this story up again. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, as it sets up the next leg of the story. Alright, peace out.
