After spending practically all my time in the Gryffindor common room over the break, minus those three unfortunate days, it was like whiplash to once again be spending my evenings in the Slytherin common room nearly every night. "Are you three fighting again?" the nosy girl, who I had since learned was named Melissa Bullistrode, something you would never guess because she looked nothing like her first year sister, asked me one evening.
"No," I said, ignoring the looks from Terence, Justin, Isaac and Joshua. I hadn't told them about my argument with the twins because I knew they would feel more justified pressing me for information than our other housemates had. I was pretty sure they would take a harsher view than the twins had on my 'stupid muggle book'. "They've just been busy with Quidditch practice." Wood was pushing them hard in preparation for their match against Hufflepuff and they had practice three or four times a week. I think that the only reason practices weren't every night was because Wood was a fifth year and had to prepare for his OWLs. The weather was apparently still trying to make up its mind about whether it was ready for spring or staying back in winter, but either way, the team always came back from Quidditch practice soaking wet, freezing cold and mud splattered.
Terence wasn't fairing any better, except that Slytherin practices were earlier in the afternoons and fewer nights each week. He still seemed to grow steadily more miserable as the weeks passed. When any of us would ask him what was wrong, he would claim that he was tired and stomp off to his room. It was irritating, but we couldn't figure out any way to cheer him up. Even the trick I stole from the twins hardly ever made him smile and finally, we gave up, knowing that he would come to one of us eventually when he was ready.
One evening, mid-February, I stepped into Snape's office, surprised to find it was warm for once. "Sir?" I asked I figured he had forgotten I had detention tonight. Maybe he would send me away and I would get to hang out with the twins for a bit. They had had practice the last two nights and another Sunday afternoon. Though they were both brilliant and usually had good marks, they were never overly concerned with homework, but now they were worryingly behind and had been threatened with detention by three different teachers including the one in front of me. I had promised to help them tackle their piles after tonight's detention, but if I could get out of detention, I could go help them sooner, get done with the homework sooner and maybe start working on the 'absolutely brilliant' idea George claimed to have had for a new prank.
"Come in here, girl," Snape snapped impatiently and I stepped up to his desk disappointedly. "I need to make a demonstrational potion for the first years' lesson tomorrow, but unfortunately, I find myself busy with seventh year essays to grade. I trust you are proficient enough for this little task." What little task?
"Sir?" He sighed, thoroughly annoyed with my ignorance.
"You will be making the potion this evening." When I didn't respond, shocked as I was, he continued, "Or, if you prefer, you could always continue preserving ingredients." That shook me out of my silence.
"No, sir!" I protested. "I'll make the potion." He smirked at me, superiority clear in his eyes and I had to restrain myself form saying something stupid, which would surely only put me back canning the smelliest of his collection. He directed me to the cauldron on the corner.
"Page 61," he told me, gesturing to the book sitting next to the cauldron on the table. "And you know where to find your ingredients," he added with a sneer. It was true; I had probably canned every single ingredient on this list. I wrinkled my nose when I saw hedgehog needles listed. When I had been canning those, I had stabbed every single finger multiple times and my hands had been covered in so many bandages that both my Gryffindor and Slytherin friends had called me 'Clutz' for weeks. Those like Tatiana told me not to leak my dirty blood on them. In retribution, I slipped the used bandages under their pillows like some kind of sick tooth fairy. I had enjoyed hearing random screams coming from their rooms over the next few days as they discovered them.
The potion was a simple one used for removing skin blemishes and I finished within an hour. I figured he would put me back to work canning ingredients. I was surprised though when, at the announcement of the potion's completion, he said without looking out, "You may go after you clean your station. Leave the potion in the cauldron." Careful not to ruin this apparent good mood, I silently did as told and left quickly before he could order me back.
"You're early," Lee commented when I let myself into their common room.
"Do we need to help you hide his body?" George asked with a casualness that made me want to answer 'yes' just to see how good of a friend he was.
"No, stupid," I said instead, elbowing him instead.
"Well then, has he take ill?" Fred asked.
"No, he's not sick either. He had me set up a potion for the first years tomorrow and then let me leave." Hermione, who as usual was studiously flipping through a heavy and very dull appearing book, looked up at full attention. Ron and Harry, next to her and looking through the same type of books, far less common behavior for them, looked up at her expectantly.
"Did you find him?" Ron asked, nudging her while Harry leaned over to scan the page she had been on. She pushed them both away.
"What potion are we studying tomorrow?" she asked me urgently. The boys looked to me in confusion, though I wasn't sure why. Hermione's school-oriented attitude had already spread school wide. I believe the Ravenclaws were using her name as both a praise and swear at this point.
"Berg's Blemish Reliever," I told her. "Page 61." She whipped out her bag and dug through it until she pulled out her Potion's textbook, flipped to what I assume was the appropriate page and ran her fingers through the ingredients and instructions.
"What's Flamel got to do with that?" Harry asked her impatiently.
"What? Oh, nothing. I just wanted to be prepared tomorrow." The boys gave identical groans of annoyance while Hermione ignored them. Weirdly bookish little kid. Fred, George and Lee were still looking at me with confused expressions.
"Are you positive you didn't kill him?" Fred asked.
"You know you could tell us, right?" Lee added. "No matter what you did?"
"I'm positive, guys." They still looked suspicious. "Do you guys not want help with your homework?" I asked. "Because if not, I could leave." I stood up and walked a few feet without looking back at them.
"No!" they all three shouted, stopping be before I had even gotten to the other side of the couch. The lovable idiots hadn't noticed that I had left my bag. They all looked as terrified as if McGonagall had caught them laying dungbombs in the Great Hall.
"Them you should probably get it out," I told them, settling back into my seat. The twins took out their bags and began pulling piles of books and bits of parchment out.
"We'll divide this up by subject, I think," Fred said while Lee and I looked forlornly at the mass of work ahead of us. If I had known there was this much, I would have considered faking an illness; probably wouldn't have gone through of it, but I would have considered it.
"And make sure that whatever you're writing you don't make both essays exactly the same. We've gotten in trouble for that before," George instructed.
"But the outlines can match," Fred soothed. "They don't seem to mind that." He paged through a few things before pulling out Standard Book of Spells: Grade 3 and handing it to Lee. "Lee, you'll be on charms. The freezing charm."
"That was due two and a half weeks ago!" Lee said.
"Then you'll be an expert on it by now, won't you," Fred replied before turning back to the pile. "Skylar…er…."
"Give her Divinations," George suggested pulling out the correct book. "She doesn't have to be up to date with the subject to do it."
"Right," Fred agreed handing me the book and a stack of parchment. "You'll just be recording our dreams for the last three weeks." At my look, he sighed irritably, "Yes, yes, we're quite a bit behind. Just make stuff up. And no big deal if you recycle some dreams, we'll just say their reoccurring or that it's a twin thing or whatever."
"And the more tragic, the better," George informed me as he shifted through books and papers. "The batty woman likes to think the whole world is going to crumble in ashes.
"Isn't she supposed to be a real Seer," I asked. Religious and all, I figured there were some genuine ones out there whether wizard or not, though I was still skeptical on each individual case.
"She thinks she is, but she's an absolute nutter," George grinned. "Beginning of the year, she predicted that before the year was up, Sophia Garthslynn would die and Fred and I would be separated for all eternity.
"Sounds like she's fun at parties," I said, pulling out my quill from Lee. "Will she know or care if my handwriting doesn't match yours?" I asked, cringing at the idea of the potential hand cramp if I had to warp my handwriting into theirs.
"Nah," Fred said. "If she says anything, we'll just say we'll getting in touch with our inner selves or something." After the twins split Transfiguration and Potions between them, we sat together in a rare near silence for a couple hours. When I finished their dream journals, a project which only took about forty five minutes, I told the twins, "You two have a couple of messed up brains…each. Now what next?" They set me on an essay about centaurs; having met the beasts one terrifying night in the Forbidden Forest made up for my not having ever attended the class. After finishing that and helping George finish a particularly nasty Potion's essay on Chizpurfle Carapaces, we all sat back in exhaustion.
"Ugh," Lee groaned. "I never want to hear about Freezing Charms again!"
"Thanks, mate," Fred said as he scooped everything into a big pile and shoving it all into their bags. "We would have died doing all that on our own."
"Quite literally," George mumbled, his head pillowed on his arms.
"My hand is killing me," I complained and massaged the cramp which had grown across the palm of my hand.
"Can we heal it up with a trip to the kitchens?" Fred offered and I grinned. They knew me far too well. Hopping up, I slung my bag over my shoulder while they left theirs where they were. No one here was stupid enough to bother the temporarily abandoned bags; everyone had learned to be wary when one stolen in attempted revenge plot unexpectedly exploded.
"Have you got your journal with you, Skylar?" George asked. "We've got to record my brilliant idea away from Percy's prying eyes." Upon hearing his name Percy snapped towards us. Before he could utter a word in our direction though, I followed the twins and Lee out with a wave toward the pissed prefect.
"But of course I have it," I said, patting my bag. Since I had unwrapped it Christmas morning, we had filled at least a dozen pages with the boys' ideas. I had filled out another five with my own plots, most of which were against Tatiana and her bewitched puppy Lucille. Another three pages were just ramblings, random thoughts, quotes heard in the halls, and a bit of blackmail against Gregory Goyle, should I ever need it.
After the usual enthusiastic welcome from the elves, we sat at the Gryffindor-equivalent table and got to discussing, only interrupted briefly when the elves brought cookies and hot chocolate. Through the munching and sipping, we outline the plot, the excitement growing the further we got. "If we pull this in the Great Hall," I warned them, "we'll be caught for sure."
"But that's where we'll hit the most people!" Lee and Fred complained as one. George looked like he would have joined this plea if his mouth hadn't been full of cookie.
"Fine, but we'll all have detention for a week. Let's at least look for another target before we commit to the Great Hall." In the end, I had to agree that the Great Hall was the best place to pull this off which meant extra precautions to at least try to avoid detentions. We set to planning, diagraming, and dividing responsibilities.
After almost an hour of figuring logistics, I was adamant. "No. We are not going into the forest tonight," I told them. "I refuse."
"Skylar, if you're scared, it's okay," George offered.
"Although, why you won't go is beyond me," Fred pouted mildly.
"You've gone before," Lee reminded me unnecessarily. "Nothing happened any of those times."
"Tonight is the full moon," I informed them. "I am not going in there where there might be werewolves and neither are you."
"Skylar," Lee argued rationally. "There are always dangerous things in the forest. You were fine going in the last five or six times.
"Most of those times, we were just going on the edge of the forest," I insisted. "Besides, if I can take even just one dangerous, carnivorous creature out of the equation, I'll feel that much better." I wasn't telling them everything, but that was okay with me, I would rather not relive the details. The previous night I had accidently fallen asleep in the library while studying, but when I had woken up after curfew, there had been teachers in there, collecting material for their lessons, and I had been left with no other option than to sit very quietly and listen to their conversation. They had been discussing a particularly beastly werewolf. This werewolf, Greyback, liked being a werewolf; he had probably been a sadist long before he was bitten. Worse still, he preferred children. Before the moon rose on full moon nights, he would position himself somewhere near people, families, so that when the wolf took over, he was sure to get some kids. The muggle studies teacher, Professor Gurmange, had heard that it was because he liked the "tender meat of children," but Flickwit said he targeted specific kids as revenge against parents he felt had wronged him. Everyone agreed that even though he wasn't actually a Death Eater, he had voluntarily worked for You-Know-Who during the war. Any one of those reasons was good enough for me to stay out of the forest when the moon was round because what better place to find kids than a school.
The boys all looked at each other with exasperation, but finally conceded. "Fine," Fred sighed. We won't go into the forest tonight, but we've got to go soon." I nodded in agreement and leaned back to discuss the rest of the details.
"Come on Skylar, just a bit further. I swear I can see the will o' the wisps just a bit further." I couldn't see the mysterious little lanterns anywhere. They were said to guard the weed we were hunting down, a vital part of our plot. But though the boys had claimed to be seeing them for the last half an hour, I had yet to see a single one. Worse, we had yet to see the weed. I hated it in these woods. It wasn't the dark that bothered me, it was the fact that I couldn't see what was around me. The boys would have laughed at my reasoning, but it actually made perfect sense. I didn't mind the dark in my room because I knew what was in my room, but this dark…I didn't know what was here which meant I was imagining all my least favorite things, the things that made me want to scream. The breeze in the trees sounded like snakes slithering around (yes, yes, a Slytherin afraid of snakes, mock me as you like). The shuffle of life around us had me imagining bugs of all sorts, slimy ones, too many legged ones, all curling around my ankles and climbing up my legs. The screech of bats in the distance sounded like my little sister screaming. And now, on top of all the old fears, the boys footsteps, further ahead of me suddenly sounded like a hunting werewolf. A mossy vine hung down and grazed my face and I let out a yelp.
"Are you okay back there?"
"I'm fine, fine," I muttered, annoyed at my nerves. Why couldn't I be a fearless lion like the rest of them? When I tripped over a tree root and fell face first to the ground, my hand landed on something mushy, I shot up with a yelp, shaking whatever it was off my hand, running forward until I stood between Fred and Lee.
"Are you sure?" Lee laughed at me.
"Shut up," I grumbled, wiping the last of whatever was on my hand onto my jeans. We walked for another several minutes until Lee pointed and finally, I saw it. A will o' the wisp. It hung there lazily, the cobalt glow leading us forward and I swear I could hear it laughing at us. It disappeared when we were a few yards away and we all lit our wands, searching the ground for this weed. "What the heck?" I muttered, the light from my wand lighting the goo I had wiped onto my jeans. It was silver, like mercury and had a familiar stickiness to it that I couldn't quite place.
"What's that?" Fred asked, inquiring about the stain.
"I don't know. My hand landed in something gooey when I fell and I wiped it onto my jeans."
"Hmm," the boys hummed, more interested in finding the weed. I joined them in looking, but suddenly stood stock still, hardly letting myself breath. There it was, the dark green weed we needed. Nestled on top of and all around it though, was a nest of…I don't even know what. It looked like a cross between a cockroach and a puppy. And the biggest one was looking at me with the beadiest eyes I had ever seen. I started hyperventilating. I hated even finding spiders in my room, a routine which had dropped off suddenly when Gus moved in, thank Merlin, but this, this was worse. You couldn't trap one of these with a jar. Maybe with one of Hagrid's tankards, but even that would be questionable. I don't think I had moved for a full two minutes when George finally noticed me still there. "Skylar?" I barely looked at him, just a flick of my eyes before turning back to the thing. George moved his wand light closer to where I stood, an "Oh," escaping when he saw what held me transfixed. I had counted twenty six legs on this little monster, all constantly twitching. If I ran, would it or any of its brood be able to catch up? "Oi," George whispered to the others, "over here."
They joined us with similar "Oh" sounds.
"Can you kill them, first try?" I asked, mentally adding, before they try to kill us.
"Not without risking the plant," Lee said. I was willing the burn down the whole damn forest, but I knew they wanted the weed. I tried closing my eyes, but that only trained my other senses on the monster. I hadn't realized to odd little clicks being emitted, or the smell of dung. Plus now, my mind filled in its own picture of what might be happening. It could very well be creeping towards me and onto my shoe and up my legs... Eyes open, I gulped on air, trying very hard not to gag.
"Do something!" I begged. "Please!"
"Are you scared, Skylar?" Fred teased and I fixed a threatening glare on him.
"Get rid of whatever that is and get us out of here now or I swear to the powers that be that I will personally report our excursion to McGonagall." He snickered along with the others and I growled.
"Put your wand out," Fred ordered. "You guys too," he added. I wanted to say no. I didn't want the dark because I had already experienced the heightened terror that came when you couldn't see what it was doing. Panic closed my throat and I couldn't utter the spell to extinguish my light whether I wanted to or not. I stood there gulping until George reached over, took my wand and said the spell for me, immediately returning the wand to me. "Alright," Fred said, "I'm going to go this way and see if it follows my light. He began slowly walking backwards, taking large steps backwards into the unknown. The thing followed the light with its eyes, but didn't move otherwise.
"Maybe just kick it?" Lee suggested when Fred rejoined us. I had calmed somewhat when the think wasn't looking at me anymore, but that sounded like the worst possible plan to me.
"Kick it?!" I practically screeched, a bad move seeing as the noise turned its attention back to me. I clammed up again until Fred took its attention back, waving his wand light around again. "That's an awful idea," I hissed now. "What if it attacks us?"
"Put up one of your shields," George suggested and I obeyed without another thought. Protected on all sides, I let out a deep breath. "Ready?" George asked the other two. Ready for what?
"Yup."
"Give 'er all you got!" George pulled his leg back and I realized: he really was going to kick it. My warning got stuck in my throat as the beastly little thing was flung twenty feet away. The smaller critters all scurried it the same general direction in had flown in. "Get it quick!" Lee said. Fred yanked the weed out by the roots and yelled for us all to run. This seemed like a good plan to me so I did. I would never be able to outrun the taller, more athletic boys, but I don't think I had ever moved so fast. As soon as we were well out of the forest's reach, I collapsed onto the ground, never more grateful for regular, safe grass. Fred and George each braced their hands on their knees, breathing hard while Lee sat down heavily next to me. "Well that was fun," he grinned at last, and even I had to laugh along with the others.
As I had predicted, three days later, we had all landed ourselves detentions. When the malodorous pillars of fog had crept form under each table, McGonagall had immediately turned her eyes on each of us. Fred, George and Lee were sitting together, grinning as they looked over at the plumes of smoke. I was over at the Slytherin table, but had convinced my friends to sit at the end furthest from where I knew the stink bomb was planted and had my sleeve over my nose despite the fact that the stink hadn't yet reached us. Minerva McGonagall is not a stupid woman. After about half the students had run from the stench and the teachers had syphoned out the stinky smoke, I noticed McGonagall conferring with Professor Snape, never a good sign. They parted and McGonagall marched towards the boys while Snape swept up Slytherin table towards me. I wasn't sure which was a scarier sight.
"Miss French," Snape drawled as he approached me. The boys around me all sat at attention, their grammar turning more formal and all cussing ceased.
"Good evening, sir," Joshua schmoozed and I rolled my eyes at him, something he ignored stoically. It wasn't that I didn't respect Snape, if anything, it was because I respected him that I didn't kiss up like the others. He knew I didn't think kindly of him and if I became a kiss up like the others did, in a vain hope that he would favor me, I knew that any chance of him ever respecting me would be lost. Snape nodded at Joshua without looking at him, his sneer still on me.
"Professor McGonagall suspect you of playing a part in the commotion a few moments ago," he sounded bored. I looked at him without answering. The twins would have made a smart-alek response to try and ease the blame away, but as much as I loved them, I was not the boys. Besides, a blithe comment to Snape would only piss him off. "Hmm," Snape looked down his nose at me. "You and your coconspirators will receive a night of detention. You will be notified when the time and place have been decided." He began to leave, but turned his head, not quite looking back at me. "I'm a little surprised," he said, "Your plans usually have more finesse that this." He gesture to the Great Hall obviously referencing the recent stench.
"It wasn't my plan," I shrugged and he left without even a nod.
"They've gone and gotten you in trouble again," Isaac grumbled.
I just shrugged again. "But I was a part of it. Besides, I'll get the lighter end of the punishment. I always do." The Hogwarts staff seemed to be under the impression that if not for the boys, I wouldn't act out or break rules so they often gave me lighter sentences than Lee or the twins. The staff was wrong. I might not have become a prankster, but bending the rules wasn't something I was overly disinclined to. However, I wasn't going to be the one to tell them that.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with why you were so jumpy the other night, would it?" Isaac asked suspiciously. The others were listening, but I just stuck my tongue out at them and turned back to my dinner. "We have to keep you under constant surveillance, don't we?" he sighed. "How many detentions have you had this month?"
"Three," I said, licking the back of my spoon, "including the weekly ones. This will be my fourth."
"Why don't you sound concerned about that?" Justin asked in bewilderment. "You know when we graduate and are applying for jobs, they can look and see our disciplinary record. And yours will be—" I waved off his worries.
"If my grades and achievements don't encourage them to look past a few detentions, then I don't want to work for them," I quipped. Besides, I thought to myself, there was always the twins' idea. They talked about wanting to start their own joke shop when they graduated, bigger and better than Zonko's. If worst came to worst and no one else wanted me, I could always bully them into letting me help out there.