The Weasley twins had let Eric in on their plans to start a novelty shop when they left the Hogwarts Express. They finally felt they had enough research invested to start sending out advertisements. With luck, they could start a base of interested clients while they worked the knots out of their inventions. However, they couldn't have materials showing up in the Weasley mailbox – Mrs. Weasley had great plans for the twins, and she'd be furious if they didn't live up to her expectations. Fred and George, however, never answered to anyone for as long as Eric knew them, so they weren't about to start.
Although it could be viewed as a conspiracy against Mrs. Weasley, Eric knew that the boys would succeed one way or another. This way was slightly more proper than one or more of the alternatives they could have come up with. He arranged to forward the Weasley's mail as discretely as he could, intending to send floo packages at particular times, during which Mrs. Weasley would be otherwise occupied. He felt a little bad working behind Molly Weasley's back; she seemed real nice, more than willing to offer whatever she had, and was very pleasant to be around.
The plan needed it, though; the boys were extremely talented, but they were sure she wouldn't approve of anything that didn't match the ambition of the first three sons. Unfortunately, topping a researcher of order draconae, a curse breaker, and a Ministry exec ( even a minor one ) would require a great amount of focus. For as long as he'd known them, the Weasley Twins have only been able to concentrate on mischief and pranks. If they were going to excel, they'd need to go with their strengths. Eric felt honored to help.
As for the upcoming World Cup tournament, the Peals weren't quite as agreeable as Harveste Moon had predicted. Yes, he was permitted to go, but they refused to co-operate further. He'd have to find his own way, his own food, and his own lodgings; Clareone insisted.
Lymeon was more sympathetic, but it was clear that he'd never act behind his wife's back. "It's like this, my boy – Clareone has come to feel more than a little motherly towards you, and she does not wish you to get into trouble. Now, I know Harveste Moon and the Wainwrights better than she does, so I know they'll look after you. Clareone, however, doesn't; but she also knows that simply refusing you isn't the best way to handle matters. Therefore, she simply sets the bar so high that you'll never reach it – only we both know better, don't we?"
Eric was confused. "But sir, they haven't published the site of the tournament."
"Of course not, boy – that would result in a thousand wizards and witches showing up on broomsticks without a ticket. That would be a disaster on so many levels, I could scarcely conceive of it. Now, a single wizard on a solitary broomstick could probably make his way without causing concerns; especially if he took precautions." Lymeon ended with a smile and a wink.
He had said quite enough to get Eric's thoughts rolling. He would need a broomstick – one powerful enough to reach anywhere on the British Isles in four hours or less. He'd need personal protection against the wind and the cold, and he'd need a way to locate the site, which was no doubt warded against detection.
The solutions came in reverse order. To locate the site all he would need is someone he was familiar with, and Dorian would suit the bill once he arrived. The leathers he made while he was apprenticing under Hagrid could easily be converted to flying gear that would protect from both cold and the elements. The broomstick, however, was the biggest challenge – one that would require a very clandestine trip.
Eric slept early that evening, enchanting a small bell to awaken him at midnight. He drew together the few items he would need and threw on an outfit to dress the part he was about to play. His clothes were jet black, while his hair was tied down in four places before being tucked under an equally black cloak. He chose to obscure his face with a black sash rather than using any concealing techniques that would give him away.
The biggest advantage to traveling by floo powder is that all one needed was a clear destination. The Sable cottage of Hogsmeade was quite specific enough to fit the bill. Eric would've liked closer, but Hogwarts was warded against travel, so Hogsmeade was the closest he could find. Next he had to get into the school undetected. Making the trip late at night covered half of the needed effort, while using the abandoned tunnel from the Shrieking Shack to the school did the rest. It took an expulsion charm to get past the Whomping Willow before it moved. This left Eric sore on his backside, but it worked.
The final trick was to get into his storeroom. Normally, he would ask Hagrid for the key, but since what he was doing was, by the strictest sense, illegal in one way or another, he wanted to keep his guardian out of trouble. Besides, the lock was hardly intense. A simple Alohomora spell would release it, allowing Eric entry into his favorite place in the world: his workshop in Hogwarts.
Today the shop was mostly empty. He had lost most of his equipment to a moment of Slytherin revenge for breaking house discipline, and he never had a chance to replace it. There was, however, one thing in the storeroom that was still intact; preserved because first-year students weren't allowed broomsticks. It wasn't exactly what he needed, as it was far too slow. What it did have was the base enchantments he needed. Stripped down and rebuilt, it could perform.
A Restomora spell re-secured the room, while the broomstick made for far easier and swifter travel back to Hogsmeade and the Sable cottage. Eric fought to clear his thoughts of the excitement he had been through. The real challenge would come the following morning. "Diagon Alley – the Joint and Joist."
His jaunt up Knockturn Alley next morning went far smoother than the last trip. Kaneus was good to his word, as no one sought to block his path until he bumped into a tall gentleman. "Excuse me, sir."
"Not at all, young lad. It is I who should beg your pardon for crossing your path." The gentleman was dressed entirely in black, while on his shoulder an unnecessarily large ebon crow pecked idly at his collar. Removing his hat momentarily, he arched into a deep bow, then straightened again. "Corvin Frugilagus – at your service."
Eric had never experienced such manners, at least not among the Knockturn residents. "Eric Sable, sir; and I am sorry for running into you."
The man's expression widened. "Eric Sable? Not the Eric Sable of Hogwarts?"
"Well, I'm not aware of another." He was suddenly concerned. It wasn't normal for people to know personal details unless they were after something, and there were just enough strange events in Eric's life for him to be worried.
"Well, young man, I've been following your progress with some interest. What do you say to that?"
"Why? I don't even know you." This was more and more disturbing by the second. Mister Frugilagus' manner was gentle and friendly, to be sure. It was almost like Eric always imagined a grandfather would be. However, two years ago someone died trying to kidnap him from the school, and then there was the person who followed Eric from the station. Perhaps it was Corvin, perhaps someone else, but the timing was poor. He was about to break every rule put on him, and it wouldn't help to have an extra set of eyes watching.
"True, we have never met properly. Allow me to clear matters a little. I am a tutor who excels in a number of the magical disciplines. I seek out students who find themselves constrained in the traditional system we use to educate our children and offer them a venue to excel. Would you be interested?"
The offer was tempting, there was no doubt about that. What was more, Corvin had a disarming manner; there was something about him that just made Eric want to trust and go along with him. However, it was that feeling ( and perhaps the large crow on his shoulder ) that made him cautious. "I don't think so, sir; I doubt Professor Dumbledore would approve."
Corvin's response was a friendly laugh. "Would it interest you to know that Albus Dumbledore is an old acquaintance of mine? It was his advice that directed me to you."
"You understand, sir, that I just can't take that on faith. I'll need to ask the Headmaster myself." Eric was determined not to be fooled.
If Mister Frugilagus had ulterior motives, they weren't apparent. "You go right ahead, son, and assure yourself of my good intentions. Once you're satisfied, write to me at this address." He handed Eric a travel worn business card. "I can tutor you as well by mail as in person. I believe you will find the subjects to be far more interesting than your traditional fare." Tipping his hat, he stepped up the alley and disappeared past a corner.
Eric was extremely concerned about people taking such an interest in him. He'd have to ask Dumbledore personally about Corvin – a letter could be intercepted. At least he didn't appear to be Ministry, which would have put a serious dent in Eric's upcoming plans. He finished his walk to the Moon Harvest Apothecary and knocked.
Dorian answered the door. "Hi Eric! Come on in." He guided Eric past the outer room. "What bring you back here?"
"Well, I have a project that would pretty much break every law and rule that we live by, and my place is being watched." He smiled broadly. "Can I use your basement?"