Loona and Moxxie entered their rooms a little shakily, and the moment they stepped foot inside, both Millie and Blitzo jumped up as if struck by lightning.
Millie ran up to Moxxie. "Sugar, uh, I think we may be in a bit of trouble," she said timidly, twirling her hair around in her finger. Moxxie frowned - he had already felt he had gotten in trouble with Loona, what with the whole Moody-escorting-them-back ordeal. So what had happened in here?
"Why? Is everything alright?" "Hm, yeah, except that McGonagall woman came around the room. She had something to give you… we had to tell her you were gone. She made that same face you did the first time we tried butt-" "Millie!" Moxxie exclaimed, flushing in his human form.
"Aw, I love that little blush," Millie batted her eyes at him, and Moxxie tried to compose himself. "What did she want to give me?"
"No idea," Blitzo replied, plunking himself down on a sofa once more. "But McAmazon Express is gone now. She wouldn't leave the package - you know, I'm starting to think she doesn't trust us," he said, flicking some dirt from under his nails.
"I wonder why," Moxxie muttered from under his breath. He liked the idea of McGonagall knowing of their little excursion even less than he did Moody: he had the distinct idea that that man was fine with a little rule-breaking.
McGonagall… not so much. Moxxie set himself down on a sofa beside Millie as she put her arm around him. He felt suddenly exhausted. Even though the work they did at I.M.P was physically straining and, a lot of the time, mentally straining, this was something different.
It was like he felt a constant additional pressure on his that didn't cease like he was a toddler beginning to understand the basic concepts of the world, and the amount of information he sucked in made his head heavy.
He cuddled up to Millie, on the verge of sucking on his thumb. "So, did you get food?" She asked eagerly. Moxxie was about to reply when Loona suddenly called out to them from the table.
They all turned back to look at her, her expression one of shock.
They adopted the same one, as well. Between breakfast and now, they were certain that the tables filled themselves.
Though his companions only thought of the array of food and the drool at the corners of their mouths, Moxxie wondered how, with magic like this, there could be such a thing as poverty.
He assumed that the wizarding world probably didn't have any, but even if they didn't, there were still thousands upon thousands of people starving every year, and these assholes chose to keep their abilities and easy fixes a secret? It seemed unfair.
Not for the first time, Moxxie had a bad feeling about the wizarding community as a whole, and though he went to sit on one of the chairs, he couldn't help but feel he was somehow dining with the enemy. Something about them was off, and he actually wanted to leave before realizing what that really was.
He wanted all of them to leave before they found themselves too deeply wrapped up in this world and never being able to disconnect themselves again.
On the table sat the greatest variety of food Moxxie had ever seen, complete with four different platters and just as many sets of cutlery and goblets.
Millie positively drooled. Moxxie did, too, and without a second thought, he let his hunger take him away and set his troubled thoughts aside for a second.
0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0=0
Once the Imps and Loona had been satiated, they were far more peaceable.
They took their sweet time savoring all the food, waiting to digest it, and then digging in again multiple times before deciding they were on the verge of throwing up and letting themselves sink into the chairs.
They weren't used to this much food, let alone such quality.
They just knew that when they dug into the chocolate mousse, they weren't slurping up someone's feces.
That made it all the more delicious and special. Moxxie could even see how his companions began to ease out of their tense stance around the room, growing more and more comfortable where they were with each passing second.
They were easy to distract, though, and he expected an outburst from Blitzo at any moment, probably because of work.
Just as Blitzo was letting out a loud burp, there came a knock at the door. Moxxie wobbled over to it, starting to feel a bit unwell and having his mind's eye completely focused on the upcoming nap he was supposed to take.
It was strange to have so much leisure time. Usually, they weren't able to take so much time just eating (they didn't want to, anyway, the food in Hell was positively disgusting, whereas here it was incredible) because they needed to get back to work as soon as possible.
It was almost like a vacation, albeit a bizarre one that would eventually take Moxxie into some dangerous tournament. But a vacation nonetheless. Sort of.
When Moxxie opened the door, McGonagall's severe gaze stared back at him. He almost jumped from the intensity of her gaze. Talk about an evil eye.
Moxxie was sure that McGonagall wanted them gone almost as much as they did, feeling that they were unwelcome, troublesome, and unreliable lodgers.
He reckoned that if it were up to her, she would've put guards on their doors.
Maybe she wasn't all that wrong. After all, they had escaped only a few hours after Dumbledore had clearly asked that they stay inside during the day.
They'd even been spotted by students.
Moxxie didn't fully understand the implications of that or the trouble that could come by them being inside of Hogwarts, but he still understood that it was bad, and they probably should've kept it hidden. "Mr. Potter," she greeted with that curt tone of hers. "Finally, I find you in your rooms," she said, looking down at him seriously.
He tried to stand his ground - he was an adult, he wouldn't succumb to an old woman like that. Besides, Moody had already chastised them.
In his own way, at least. "Err- right, sorry about that. But Moody found us, and he escorted us back."
"Is that so?" She asked, not seeming to be very interested. Still, Moxxie suspected that that was just a farce and that a woman like McGonagall was probably the time to monitor whatever happened within the castle anally.
"I come with some information if this is not an inopportune time." "Uhm, no, not at all. Come in?" He asked, feeling weird for offering something such a thing since he felt like he was the intruder here.
McGonagall stepped into the room, her back straight, her gaze severe. She looked around disdainfully as if they had been the ones to decorate, and it hadn't been to her taste. She walked over all prim and proper and set herself down on one of the single sofas, a parcel on her lap. Moxxie suspected it'd been the one she hadn't been able to deliver earlier.
He sat down on a sofa in front of her, and because they had no regard for privacy, the Imps and Loona went to sit at Moxxie's side as if they had been invited. "You got any liquor?" Blitzo asked brazenly. McGonagall shot him a spine-chilling look but otherwise ignored him. Then, finally, her eyes said, 'strike one, red boy.'
"The first matter is that of tomorrow's trip to Diagon Alley," McGonagall began. Moxxie felt as Millie tensed up a little bit beside him.
He knew that she wanted to go and that she would have no peace of mind until she did, but he also knew that to go would probably be more than a little nerve-wracking for her.
It certainly was for Moxxie - an excursion out into the… wizarding world? To the wizard market? It was more than a little intimidating. "Dumbledore has instructed that you should be accompanied tomorrow by Hagrid.
Your wife," McGonagall said, eyeing Millie. She sucked in a breath. "May join you. On the condition that she remain hidden and permits a blurring charm put on her." "A blurring charm?" Moxxie asked. "So that no one may see her features clearly," McGonagall clarified. "Now, I believe that Professor Dumbledore is too trusting and that you… creatures should have more security than a single man.
I must ask you please to be cautious and not to draw attention to yourselves during your visit to Diagon Alley." All the imps were offended at McGonagall's words, but they didn't really know what they could even do about it. Blitzo shifted in his seat. He was probably the quickest of them. "And why does Millie have to 'hide her features'?"
He pronounced that bit very mockingly in the crappiest British accent Moxxie had ever heard. "I think you guys are ugly, but I don't ask you to put a bag on your wrinkles." McGonagall shot him the dirtiest look imaginable, clutching her veiny hands tighter. Moxxie swallowed.
"This," she said simply. "Is why you may not go, Mr. Blitzo," she smoothed her skirts.
The Imps didn't quite know how to react to that, and, catching them in silence, which was a rare occasion, McGonagall proceeded. Acting as if Blitzo didn't exist, but that dirty look had meant the second strike.
"Furthermore, Professor Dumbledore has asked me whether I could escort you in a… tour of the castle grounds," McGonagall's already thin mouth almost disappeared with how hard she pressed it when she said the word 'tour.' It was clear to everyone and their mother that she clearly was not satisfied with her role in dealing with the Imps or how Dumbledore was managing things. Still, it also seemed to the Imps that Dumbledore was considered something of a deity, and the woman appeared shackled by him completely.
She probably wouldn't be caught dead disagreeing or cursing Dumbledore, let alone to them.
"I fear I have some duties I must perform, but Hagrid has agreed to take you, on account that you stay together and heed to his every indication. We must not have… slights.
Like earlier today," she concluded bitterly, her dirty look now directed at Moxxie and Loona.
At this, she paused and looked at them severely. Of course, they weren't about to confirm or deny anything, and all of them felt like they were being slapped with a ruler by a strict teacher, so they preferred silence, but Moxxie could feel Blitzo fuming in his seat.
He feared what he might do - would he leap out of his seat and slap McGonagall? Smack her ass?
The possibilities were endless and thus, so was Moxxie's anxiety. "And finally," McGonagall concluded, rising from her chair, clearly in a rush to get out of the presence of the 'creatures.'
"Professor Dumbledore has asked me to give you this," she said, handing the parcel to Moxxie. The moment it was in his hands, she quickened her pace, eager to leave them behind, maybe even erase them from her head or conjure up some charm to make them slip into a coma.
Just as she was heading out the door, Blitzo called out to her. Moxxie could tell this would be bad. "Hey, lady!" He shouted, and Moxxie could tell just from his tone that he was irritated with her, probably for the passive-aggressive way that she dealt with them.
Moxxie, even though he could recognize his cat-calling voice, though that was usually reserved for twinks.
Blitzo was not used to people being passive-aggressive. He was used to aggressive, aggressive actions. It probably would've been more tolerable to him if McGonagall had outright called them a band of dumbass hooligans. Still, she didn't, so she set him in a slow cooker and turned the heat up. Blitzo was about to explode.
Moxxie couldn't even see a way to stop the inevitable catastrophe. McGonagall turned, a wary expression on her face.
"You got a pretty nice ass for an old lady," he remarked, winking. McGonagall was taken aback for a split second before she recomposed herself.
Then, with the same bitter attitude and stone face she usually had, she whipped out her wand and swished it in the air in Blitzo's direction.
Blitzo started screaming and running around the room just as McGonagall shut the door behind her.
Blitzo ran about, clutching his hands to his ass in despair. "The bitch! The hag! I'll take a feather duster and brush the cobwebs from her VA-" Loona grabbed hold of him as he ping-ponged around the room and forced his hands away from his backside so that she could see what McGonagall had done.
He had previously had a pointed, devilish tail. He now had a curly pink pig's tail. Loona burst out laughing, and when Millie and Moxxie caught sight of it, they started laughing as well.
Blitzo was seething, seemingly unable to keep still or stop clenching his hands into fists like he was practicing to murder McGonagall and terrorize her ass in Hell for all eternity. "Shut up, you idiots!" He bellowed, but that just pitched them into a deeper fit of laughter. "W-Why, why don't you oink for us, Blitzo?"
Millie asked, wiping the tears from her eyes and clutching her stomach. "Oink oink," she called after him, chasing him to grip his ass. Blitzo ran away from her, fuming, and Loona and Moxxie watched the spectacle.
"If we go without dinner because you offended McGonagall, we can just have roasted pig," Moxxie remarked, a wry smile on his face. The whole scene finally died down after a couple of minutes, but when Blitzo started tugging at his tail, trying to get it off, they all started laughing again.
At some point, Blitzo recognized that the thing was real and permanent, not just some parlor trick and that wizards were like clowns, and he sat down gloomily on the couch, his arms crossed, looking like he was about to throttle someone.
Once the atmosphere had calmed, they all went to their respective rooms to nap, exhausted from the day's already convoluted events and all the heavy food in their stomach.
What with Blitzo's cute new tail, they had all forgotten about the mysterious parcel McGonagall had brought Moxxie, and he kept it hidden beneath him until Loona and Blitzo had gone.
Once Moxxie and Millie were alone in their room, Moxxie took the parcel in his hands and sat on the bed, examining it. Millie sat beside him, stroking his back and eyeing the packet curiously.
It felt curiously heavy in his palms even though he knew it wasn't objectively heavy. But it seemed dense, somehow. "What do you think it is?" She asked softly.
"No idea," Moxxie replied, turning it over in his hands. The paper it'd been wrapped in was just that - a paper.
Whatever it was wrapping was flexible and made of fabric. Maybe it was a suit? Maybe Dumbledore wanted to parade Moxxie around and have him sharply dressed as he did so. After all, what did his 'return' even mean to the wizarding world?
And what did Dumbledore intend to do with him?
He realized that the man was pretty closed off, and he couldn't even begin to guess what his endgame might be or what angle he was playing at.
Moxxie was a little reluctant to open it. He was unsure of what Dumbledore could be giving him, and McGonagall's little show hadn't eased his idea of magic.
She had done it so simply, without even a flinch or seeming to expend energy.
If she could do that with a simple swish, what else was magic capable of? Killing your parents. Trying to kill you, answered a voice inside him. He was far too wary of the packet to be comfortable simply opening it.
It was almost like he was afraid of it, and not just because he was afraid of how magic manifested itself in him. He didn't feel like anything that had to do with this uncertain world could be trusted, and he looked at the packet as if it would bite him. "Well, watcha waiting for?" Millie asked in his ear.
She was the one that was fearless - she had been suddenly thrust into this strange world filled with wands and magic and odd characters, and she still managed to be excited about a present and didn't look to be the least bit afraid, just very excited.
With a deep sigh, Moxxie tore through the packaging and threw the paper it'd been wrapped in on the floor.
Inside was an old, shabby cloak. Moxxie couldn't understand what Dumbledore had wanted him to do with it.
Was this some sort of relic? Did it have a power of some kind? "Well, ain't that disappointing. Maybe you'll grow wings if you put it on," she commented enthusiastically. Moxxie looked back at her, incredulous. She rolled her eyes.
"In a good way." She shoved him up and wrapped the cloak around him.
Moxxie didn't even realize that it had made his body disappear. He instead headed around the room mockingly, completely oblivious to Millie's mouth had dropped wide open and the shocked expression plastered on her, a hand on the lower half of her face.
"Do I look sexy? Like, grandpa sexy?" "Moxx-" "Maybe this is hot for an old man like Dumbledore. But ont, on the other hand, maybe he just thinks I'm too cute to fight in the tournament and should be his pet instead," Moxxie said jokingly, about to take it off. "Moxx," Millie repeated, now more firmly.
She dropped her hand and moved over to Moxxie.
She touched him like he had cooties, but finally, she directed him to the slender mirror of the bedroom.
Moxxie almost fell on his ass when he noticed his body was missing. He immediately wriggled out of the cloak, as if afraid of it, trying to confirm that he was still alive and that his body was still very much breathing.
"That is one cool cloak," Millie said breathlessly, taking it from the floor and putting it on herself, watching with amazement as she disappeared beneath it. Moxxie pursed his lips as he watched her head twirl around, amazed and wonder-struck at the cloak.
As she pranced about, he caught sight of something on the floor amidst the wrappings. He hadn't seen it before, but he stooped down to take it. "Your father left this in my possession before he died.
It is time it was returned to you. Use it well," he read aloud from the letter. Millie stopped dead in her tracks and went back to him, taking off the cloak. Moxxie looked like he had just been shot.
"You alright, sugar?" She asked, taking the letter from his hand and then putting her hand in his.
"Yeah," Moxxie replied, still a little struck. He took the cloak from Millie's hands and sat down on the bed again, looking at it fixedly.
He had felt uncomfortable with the cloak, and it had made him incredibly nervous at first, but somehow, knowing that it had belonged to his father, the cloak seemed more personal and less of a part of the scary magic that he perceived.
Millie watched his hypnotic state and snapped him out of it with a tender kiss on the cheek.
"Why don't we take a nice nap, huh? I'm sure you gotta rest after… all of this," she said, laying him on his back and setting herself beside him, the cloak at the foot of the bed.