"I've been waiting to go to Hogsmeade for weeks," Lily explains to me as
we ride in the moldy carriage that takes us away from the castle and out to
Hogsmeade, the local village, for the annual end of term visit. "I didn't
even realize until after James asked me to the dance that I'd neglected to
get anything at all." Lily's voice bubbles with excitement, and she is
swinging her legs. Unfortunately, Lily is directly across from me in the
coach, and I have been kicked twice, no, make that three times. Lily seems
quite keen on the subject of the dance and "James." I don't mention
anything to Lily about last night.
"I haven't bought anything either," I say instead.
"Wow!" says Winnie who is seated next to Lily. "I thought I was the only one who didn't get her things yet. Betty got hers in August. But the Hogsmeade Gladrags has a far better selection than the one in London." Winnie pauses then starts up again, "Maybe we could coordinate our outfits."
"No," I say flatly. "Besides, what looks good on me may not suit both of you. It would be boring," I add quickly to avoid evil looks from Winnie. The carriage jerks to a stop in the village square, and we hop out into the blustery snowfall. I shiver as all the warms accumulated in the coach is sucked from my body in an instant, and pull my cloak more tightly around me.
"Which way to Gladrags?" Lily asks. Winnie points to the east. "Shall we run, it's awful out here?"
Instead of answering I break off into a sprint towards the store. Lily and Winnie follow. Within minutes we reach the store and step inside.
I love Gladrags. It's got everything you could possibly want from hats to coats, lovely to lurid. Last Christmas, I got my dad a pair of socks that screamed when they got smelly. I walk over to a display of quidditch teams to see if I can find Wigtown Wanderers.
"Come on, Rosalind, the dress robes are over here," Winnie says, looking at the racks of girls' dress robes.
"These look a bit big," Lily says, picking up a lacy orange on that look I hope she doesn't pick.
"What?" I say. Sometimes I forget that Lily's a muggle-born, since she's been a witch for six and a half years. "Oh-dress robes aren't sold by size. Pick the color and style you like and then when you bring it to the counter, they'll make it fit you."
"I see," Lily says. She picks her way through the rack, then stops. "This is hard. When I've gone dress shopping with my mum and Petunia, we usually find our sizes first, then pick out the cheapest thing that I don't hate. Now I don't even know where to begin."
"Don't worry about the money, Lily," Winnie says. "This is the Noël Night! You've only got the one, and you have to have the best of everything. Period. Besides, James is taking you, so everyone will be looking at what you are wearing. And if they don't like what they see, they'll say something." Lily's eyes widen.
"Nice, Winnie, scare the poor girl out of her wits," I snap.
"It's a fact, Rosalind, and nothing can be done about it. So, are you going to give these people reason to complain or not?" Winnie says sharply. I scowl. "I'd go with something green if I were you. You're a redhead, and redheads wear green. That notwithstanding, remember how James said he likes your eyes? We need to get something that matches them.."
I zone out Winnie as I scour the racks. I pick up some midnight blue robes, but put them back when I see the price. Maybe this yellow one.
"No! Rosalind!" Winnie shrieks at me. "Put that down! Don't even try it, you're too pale to year a yellow like that! You need something much brighter. These blue ones would be perfect." She picks up the robes I just put back.
"Too expensive." I say.
"Oh fine!" Winnie rips through the racks. "You're no fun. The cheapest one you don't hate, eh? This one's it then." She tosses me bright red robes that look nice. I take a look at the price and like them more. "I'll take them, but now I have to pick yours, Winnie."
"Hey!" I close my eyes and run my hand over the rack to grab a hanger. I open my eyes to find myself handing Winnie a beautiful sky blue gown.
She holds them up to her, facing the tall, narrow mirror. "Looking good!" it chirps. The mirror is right. It does go well with Winnie's sharp, dark features.
"Now THAT'S magic," Winnie says with a smile.
"How's this?" Lily asks. Despite the fact we told her not to, Lily had decided to try on the robes, anyway. The size isn't too off, and I'm stunned. The robes are a green silk that exactly match Lily's eyes. If I were a boy, I'd say she looked gorgeous. The mirror whistles.
"That's . far out." Winnie says. "Now for the jewelry, purse and shoes."
* * *
"I still can't believe that I was able to afford my Christmas shopping after that," I say in the coach ride up to the school.
"I still can't believe you bought Wanderer socks," Winnie says.
"So? My dad likes them," I say.
"Harpies are better."
"Oh shut up." I shift my pile of boxes so I don't have to stare at Winnie's Harpy loving face.
"Sirius Black likes the Harpies," Winnie says behind my shopping.
"He would," I say with a smirk. "Bet he likes them even more on windy match day."
"Rosalind!" Winnie says indignantly.
The carriage come to a halt, and I abandon my parcels to be brought up later, as Winnie, Lily and I walk up to the castle.
"Does anything smell funny to you?" Lily asks. Her cold's gone away now, but unfortunately, she gave it to me. I smell nothing.
Despite that, I certainly begin to smell something, the moment I step into the Entrance Hall.
"What IS that smell?" Winnie asks. The question is purely rhetorical. I don't need to tell either of them it's dungbombs. Lots of dungbombs.
"Ask your dates," I gag.
"Let's go," Lily says through a pinched nose. "They can't have gotten everywhere."
Unfortunately, that is not the case. There is no refuge from the putrid air of poop anywhere in the castle. Not in the Great Hall, the common room, the library, the dungeons, the owlry, any classroom, the trophy room, the Prefect's bathroom, the boys' toilets, the staffroom. (I heard Professor Flitwick outside it griping to Professor Vector that even Dumbledore's office smells), and even some secret spots I know of around the castle. Eventually we just went back to the common room as it smells no more horrible than anywhere else, according to Lily, who has the curse of a perfectly working nose.
"They actually dungbombed the entire school," I groan. "Some Christmas present."
"They did buy a thousand dungbombs," Lily says with a sigh. "I'm going to go wrap presents." She stands up.
"Good idea," I say. "I'll come too."
"No you won't," she says firmly.
"Okay," she must be wrapping my present with them. "Tell me when you're done so I can do mine."
No sooner does Lily leave than does Sirius Black come and sit down in her vacant seat.
He takes a deep breath and says, "Smell that fresh air, Perry?"
"What fresh air, Sirius?" I ask. "That has to be the most vile and brainless thing you've done to date."
"I never said I was responsible for anything, Perry." Black says with and evil grin. "It wasn't entirely brainless. In fact, if I do say so myself: It was one of our most brilliant pranks to date. Do you know how much planning went into it?"
I shake my head.
"Well, first, did you notice that the smell is equally dispersed throughout the entire castle? There's no refuge, anywhere, I promise you that. Think about that. The dungbombs would have to be evenly placed thought the school, Every tower, dorm, common room and passage had to have some. Think about how well, the people who placed these things had to know the passages and passwords, just to place them perfectly."
"Let me guess," I say. "You did that."
"Nah, James picked out where they all should go. He's the one with them mathematical mind." Sirius says.
"I bet there aren't any dungbombs in your dormitory," I say.
"Actually," Black says, "there are. Wouldn't be fair without them."
I stand up. "That was all very interesting, but I need to get some fresh air. Now."
I leave the common room as quickly as I can, but it does nothing as the whole castle smells equally like dung. I head out the front doors into the fresh sweet air and take a deep loud breath.
"Can't take the air, either?" a voice says. It takes a moment for me to recognize the speaker. She's that Slytherin girl I know by face, but haven't talked to all of my seven years at Hogwarts. She's alone, which is why I can't think of her name. Usually, she's in the arms of her boyfriend as she has been since second year. I do remember his name: Lestrange, which he certainly lives up to.
I just gape at her, wandering where her pet boy went, but she takes my blank look for an assent, and says, "It's terrible in there. How many dungbombs did stupid black, stupid Potter, stupid Lupin, and stupid Wormtail blow?"
"Who says they did it?" I say, suddenly defensive.
"Who else did it?" she says derisively. "Who else would be weird enough to drop dungbombs everywhere, including the girls' dormitory?" "They did our dormitory, too," I say bitterly. It's weird talking to Lestrange's girlfriend. I usually consider her a snot, but I guess she's being nice to me now that we share the sisterhood of the dungflavored dormitories.
"It's actually. brilliant in a way." I say.
"It you think torturing innocents is brilliant, sure," she says with a snort.
"No, I mean, did you ever stop to think how they pulled it all off? Sirius Black told me that all then dungbombs were evenly spaced everywhere in the castle," I say.
"That's impossible," that girlfriend says. "We went to wait outside of Rosier's divination class for the first time on the last Monday of the term, and we didn't know where the class was held. By the time we reached the North Tower, class had been over for twenty minutes. Nobody knows enough about the castle to do that. Not even Dumbledore or Filch."
"I dunno, maybe they have a map," I shrug.
"A map of Hogwarts? That's not even possible. Maybe Wormtail knows how they did it."
"Who's Wormtail?" I ask.
"Oh- Peter, Peter Pettigrew. I don't know why he likes that name, but he does. He's an oddball. Would you believe he asked Veronica Engerton to the Noël Night? I don't. She's out of his league if you ask me, but she said, 'yes.' Wormtail is so . wormy, but she did it all the same. Must be because of her ex. If I were her, that would be the only reason I'd agree to date him." She walks away leaving me to wonder why Pettigrew lets himself be called Wormtail, and how Lily is going to react when she finds out one of Potter's fans is dating her.
* * *
The next morning, the stench is still there, not nearly as potent, but there all the same. I wake with a start and realize that today is the first day of the holidays. To be frank, I've never stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays. What do people do, anyway? I throw on a sweater, some tartan pants, and head into the common room. A bunch of students my age are all chatting around the fire. A couple of younger students are chatting merrily in a corner, but there are mostly older students like me who have stayed on for the Noël Night.
"Morning Ros," Lily says, emerging from the dormitory behind me. "I never know so many people to stay for Christmas. Must be because of the dance."
"Yeah, hey, that reminds me, Lily, Veronica Icky Engerton's got a date for the dance," I say.
"So?" Lily says. "Good for her. Maybe she'll get over a few things."
"No, it's not like that at all, Peter Pettigrew is taking her," I explain. "Isn't he one of Potter's friends?"
Lily nods gravely. "I wonder if James knows Peter is taking her."
"Who cares?" I say. "It's not so much he knows that WE know."
"I really think we should tell James," Lily says firmly.
* * *
Potter must be using that invisibility cloak that Black was wearing the night we followed Lily and James, because he isn't anywhere, not even practicing quidditch in sub-zero weather. After three hours of searching, Lily and I finally go into the Great Hall for lunch and steaming mugs of hot chocolate.
"I don't know what do say, Lily, he'll turn up sooner or later." I take too large a sip of cocoa and burn my tongue. "Just be patient, hey -look! There goes Pettitgrew. Lily turns around to see him leave the Slytherin table.
"Maybe he knows where James is!" Lily exclaims.
"Well, just don't tell him why you're looking for Potter," I say. Lily laughs.
"Hey, erm, Peter!" Lily says loudly behind him.
"Oh, hi, Evans," he says squeakily. Pettigrew seems a bit uneasy around Lily. "What do you want?" He doesn't say it in an annoyed way, but rather as if he were our house-elf.
"Do you know where James is?" Lily asks.
"Oh, just that? Okay," Pettigrew squeaks. "James went home for Christmas, didn't you know?"
Lily runs out of the hall in tears.
###########
Next Chapter: the dance (maybe)
"I haven't bought anything either," I say instead.
"Wow!" says Winnie who is seated next to Lily. "I thought I was the only one who didn't get her things yet. Betty got hers in August. But the Hogsmeade Gladrags has a far better selection than the one in London." Winnie pauses then starts up again, "Maybe we could coordinate our outfits."
"No," I say flatly. "Besides, what looks good on me may not suit both of you. It would be boring," I add quickly to avoid evil looks from Winnie. The carriage jerks to a stop in the village square, and we hop out into the blustery snowfall. I shiver as all the warms accumulated in the coach is sucked from my body in an instant, and pull my cloak more tightly around me.
"Which way to Gladrags?" Lily asks. Winnie points to the east. "Shall we run, it's awful out here?"
Instead of answering I break off into a sprint towards the store. Lily and Winnie follow. Within minutes we reach the store and step inside.
I love Gladrags. It's got everything you could possibly want from hats to coats, lovely to lurid. Last Christmas, I got my dad a pair of socks that screamed when they got smelly. I walk over to a display of quidditch teams to see if I can find Wigtown Wanderers.
"Come on, Rosalind, the dress robes are over here," Winnie says, looking at the racks of girls' dress robes.
"These look a bit big," Lily says, picking up a lacy orange on that look I hope she doesn't pick.
"What?" I say. Sometimes I forget that Lily's a muggle-born, since she's been a witch for six and a half years. "Oh-dress robes aren't sold by size. Pick the color and style you like and then when you bring it to the counter, they'll make it fit you."
"I see," Lily says. She picks her way through the rack, then stops. "This is hard. When I've gone dress shopping with my mum and Petunia, we usually find our sizes first, then pick out the cheapest thing that I don't hate. Now I don't even know where to begin."
"Don't worry about the money, Lily," Winnie says. "This is the Noël Night! You've only got the one, and you have to have the best of everything. Period. Besides, James is taking you, so everyone will be looking at what you are wearing. And if they don't like what they see, they'll say something." Lily's eyes widen.
"Nice, Winnie, scare the poor girl out of her wits," I snap.
"It's a fact, Rosalind, and nothing can be done about it. So, are you going to give these people reason to complain or not?" Winnie says sharply. I scowl. "I'd go with something green if I were you. You're a redhead, and redheads wear green. That notwithstanding, remember how James said he likes your eyes? We need to get something that matches them.."
I zone out Winnie as I scour the racks. I pick up some midnight blue robes, but put them back when I see the price. Maybe this yellow one.
"No! Rosalind!" Winnie shrieks at me. "Put that down! Don't even try it, you're too pale to year a yellow like that! You need something much brighter. These blue ones would be perfect." She picks up the robes I just put back.
"Too expensive." I say.
"Oh fine!" Winnie rips through the racks. "You're no fun. The cheapest one you don't hate, eh? This one's it then." She tosses me bright red robes that look nice. I take a look at the price and like them more. "I'll take them, but now I have to pick yours, Winnie."
"Hey!" I close my eyes and run my hand over the rack to grab a hanger. I open my eyes to find myself handing Winnie a beautiful sky blue gown.
She holds them up to her, facing the tall, narrow mirror. "Looking good!" it chirps. The mirror is right. It does go well with Winnie's sharp, dark features.
"Now THAT'S magic," Winnie says with a smile.
"How's this?" Lily asks. Despite the fact we told her not to, Lily had decided to try on the robes, anyway. The size isn't too off, and I'm stunned. The robes are a green silk that exactly match Lily's eyes. If I were a boy, I'd say she looked gorgeous. The mirror whistles.
"That's . far out." Winnie says. "Now for the jewelry, purse and shoes."
* * *
"I still can't believe that I was able to afford my Christmas shopping after that," I say in the coach ride up to the school.
"I still can't believe you bought Wanderer socks," Winnie says.
"So? My dad likes them," I say.
"Harpies are better."
"Oh shut up." I shift my pile of boxes so I don't have to stare at Winnie's Harpy loving face.
"Sirius Black likes the Harpies," Winnie says behind my shopping.
"He would," I say with a smirk. "Bet he likes them even more on windy match day."
"Rosalind!" Winnie says indignantly.
The carriage come to a halt, and I abandon my parcels to be brought up later, as Winnie, Lily and I walk up to the castle.
"Does anything smell funny to you?" Lily asks. Her cold's gone away now, but unfortunately, she gave it to me. I smell nothing.
Despite that, I certainly begin to smell something, the moment I step into the Entrance Hall.
"What IS that smell?" Winnie asks. The question is purely rhetorical. I don't need to tell either of them it's dungbombs. Lots of dungbombs.
"Ask your dates," I gag.
"Let's go," Lily says through a pinched nose. "They can't have gotten everywhere."
Unfortunately, that is not the case. There is no refuge from the putrid air of poop anywhere in the castle. Not in the Great Hall, the common room, the library, the dungeons, the owlry, any classroom, the trophy room, the Prefect's bathroom, the boys' toilets, the staffroom. (I heard Professor Flitwick outside it griping to Professor Vector that even Dumbledore's office smells), and even some secret spots I know of around the castle. Eventually we just went back to the common room as it smells no more horrible than anywhere else, according to Lily, who has the curse of a perfectly working nose.
"They actually dungbombed the entire school," I groan. "Some Christmas present."
"They did buy a thousand dungbombs," Lily says with a sigh. "I'm going to go wrap presents." She stands up.
"Good idea," I say. "I'll come too."
"No you won't," she says firmly.
"Okay," she must be wrapping my present with them. "Tell me when you're done so I can do mine."
No sooner does Lily leave than does Sirius Black come and sit down in her vacant seat.
He takes a deep breath and says, "Smell that fresh air, Perry?"
"What fresh air, Sirius?" I ask. "That has to be the most vile and brainless thing you've done to date."
"I never said I was responsible for anything, Perry." Black says with and evil grin. "It wasn't entirely brainless. In fact, if I do say so myself: It was one of our most brilliant pranks to date. Do you know how much planning went into it?"
I shake my head.
"Well, first, did you notice that the smell is equally dispersed throughout the entire castle? There's no refuge, anywhere, I promise you that. Think about that. The dungbombs would have to be evenly placed thought the school, Every tower, dorm, common room and passage had to have some. Think about how well, the people who placed these things had to know the passages and passwords, just to place them perfectly."
"Let me guess," I say. "You did that."
"Nah, James picked out where they all should go. He's the one with them mathematical mind." Sirius says.
"I bet there aren't any dungbombs in your dormitory," I say.
"Actually," Black says, "there are. Wouldn't be fair without them."
I stand up. "That was all very interesting, but I need to get some fresh air. Now."
I leave the common room as quickly as I can, but it does nothing as the whole castle smells equally like dung. I head out the front doors into the fresh sweet air and take a deep loud breath.
"Can't take the air, either?" a voice says. It takes a moment for me to recognize the speaker. She's that Slytherin girl I know by face, but haven't talked to all of my seven years at Hogwarts. She's alone, which is why I can't think of her name. Usually, she's in the arms of her boyfriend as she has been since second year. I do remember his name: Lestrange, which he certainly lives up to.
I just gape at her, wandering where her pet boy went, but she takes my blank look for an assent, and says, "It's terrible in there. How many dungbombs did stupid black, stupid Potter, stupid Lupin, and stupid Wormtail blow?"
"Who says they did it?" I say, suddenly defensive.
"Who else did it?" she says derisively. "Who else would be weird enough to drop dungbombs everywhere, including the girls' dormitory?" "They did our dormitory, too," I say bitterly. It's weird talking to Lestrange's girlfriend. I usually consider her a snot, but I guess she's being nice to me now that we share the sisterhood of the dungflavored dormitories.
"It's actually. brilliant in a way." I say.
"It you think torturing innocents is brilliant, sure," she says with a snort.
"No, I mean, did you ever stop to think how they pulled it all off? Sirius Black told me that all then dungbombs were evenly spaced everywhere in the castle," I say.
"That's impossible," that girlfriend says. "We went to wait outside of Rosier's divination class for the first time on the last Monday of the term, and we didn't know where the class was held. By the time we reached the North Tower, class had been over for twenty minutes. Nobody knows enough about the castle to do that. Not even Dumbledore or Filch."
"I dunno, maybe they have a map," I shrug.
"A map of Hogwarts? That's not even possible. Maybe Wormtail knows how they did it."
"Who's Wormtail?" I ask.
"Oh- Peter, Peter Pettigrew. I don't know why he likes that name, but he does. He's an oddball. Would you believe he asked Veronica Engerton to the Noël Night? I don't. She's out of his league if you ask me, but she said, 'yes.' Wormtail is so . wormy, but she did it all the same. Must be because of her ex. If I were her, that would be the only reason I'd agree to date him." She walks away leaving me to wonder why Pettigrew lets himself be called Wormtail, and how Lily is going to react when she finds out one of Potter's fans is dating her.
* * *
The next morning, the stench is still there, not nearly as potent, but there all the same. I wake with a start and realize that today is the first day of the holidays. To be frank, I've never stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays. What do people do, anyway? I throw on a sweater, some tartan pants, and head into the common room. A bunch of students my age are all chatting around the fire. A couple of younger students are chatting merrily in a corner, but there are mostly older students like me who have stayed on for the Noël Night.
"Morning Ros," Lily says, emerging from the dormitory behind me. "I never know so many people to stay for Christmas. Must be because of the dance."
"Yeah, hey, that reminds me, Lily, Veronica Icky Engerton's got a date for the dance," I say.
"So?" Lily says. "Good for her. Maybe she'll get over a few things."
"No, it's not like that at all, Peter Pettigrew is taking her," I explain. "Isn't he one of Potter's friends?"
Lily nods gravely. "I wonder if James knows Peter is taking her."
"Who cares?" I say. "It's not so much he knows that WE know."
"I really think we should tell James," Lily says firmly.
* * *
Potter must be using that invisibility cloak that Black was wearing the night we followed Lily and James, because he isn't anywhere, not even practicing quidditch in sub-zero weather. After three hours of searching, Lily and I finally go into the Great Hall for lunch and steaming mugs of hot chocolate.
"I don't know what do say, Lily, he'll turn up sooner or later." I take too large a sip of cocoa and burn my tongue. "Just be patient, hey -look! There goes Pettitgrew. Lily turns around to see him leave the Slytherin table.
"Maybe he knows where James is!" Lily exclaims.
"Well, just don't tell him why you're looking for Potter," I say. Lily laughs.
"Hey, erm, Peter!" Lily says loudly behind him.
"Oh, hi, Evans," he says squeakily. Pettigrew seems a bit uneasy around Lily. "What do you want?" He doesn't say it in an annoyed way, but rather as if he were our house-elf.
"Do you know where James is?" Lily asks.
"Oh, just that? Okay," Pettigrew squeaks. "James went home for Christmas, didn't you know?"
Lily runs out of the hall in tears.
###########
Next Chapter: the dance (maybe)
