Seven Years Chapter 23
It was a boring few weeks for Merula, her question to Lucius on the topic of Magnus Snyde going unanswered, even though he had readily approved of her request to spend Christmas with her "friends" from school. It was odd, sure, but Merula figured Lucius probably had a book in his vast library on the subject he needed to consult first before he answered her.
It was on one of the last days of fall weather before it started to snow that the three week deadline A.J. had imposed finally passed, and Merula woke up one Saturday morning rather annoyed that the Mudblood Granger hadn't left Hogwarts on a stretcher. Shame, of course, but Merula was almost giddy at the idea of seeing her roommate in action.
"A.J.?" Merula asked when she spotted the seventh year at breakfast, eating a muffin. "It's been three weeks."
"Oh," A.J. replied, her voice muffled through a bite of muffin. "Forgot about that. Granger's still in one piece, huh?"
Merula frowned as she crossed her arms around her chest, waiting as A.J. rose from her seat, but she didn't, even after the muffin disappeared. Instead, she looked amused when she asked Merula a question she wasn't expecting. "Have you tried looking at the haunted lavatory?"
"The what?" Merula tried her best to imagine how a lavatory would be haunted, or why any ghost would make it their home, but her mind came up blank.
"Moaning Myrtle's lavatory," A.J. scowled, rolling her eyes as she stood up, giving the other seventh year girls irritated looks as she did so. "Nobody goes there except if you're trying to avoid attention. Of course, the Room of Requirement is better for brewing secret potions, but I doubt most of Hogwarts knows how to get in there."
Merula raised an eyebrow, but she saw the other girls, most notably a bright red Tiffany, nod at what A.J. was saying.
"Still, I suppose the haunted lavatory is secure enough if you're lucky." A.J. said. "Hell, nobody even came to the place for the entire two weeks I was brewing my little gift to Emily Tyler."
"Is that the Laxative Potion?" Deborah asked, her head tilted in evident amusement. "The one on her birthday?"
"Mmm hmm," A.J. replied, a smirk on her face. "Tyler had to be carried out when I was done. Stupid Gryffindor picking a fight with Ismelda. Always the brave, noble, and stupid Gryffindors falling into that hole."
Merula decided against asking A.J. for more details. She wasn't quite sure what a laxative was, but she wasn't keen on losing her appetite.
"We should have a few hours to ourselves," A.J. said, her eyes trailing something across the room before she sat down again, her arms crossed. "Looks like most of Gryffindor is out to watch their game. Should give us the time to intervene on the potion making, if our hypothesis is correct."
Merula nodded at the suggestion, and she ate breakfast quickly, ready for a day of wreaking havoc with the Gryffindors.
A.J. waited patiently, her eyes always watching, and Merula finished her food just a few short minutes later, rising from the table just as A.J. did too.
"I'll be back in twenty," A.J. said, giving Tiffany and several other Slytherin girls a wave before she moved on, gesturing for Merula to follow. "Come along and try to ignore Myrtle."
Merula followed A.J. carefully, and several times she glanced back behind her, not finding anything worth talking about.
Merula hadn't ever seen a reason to use any of the lavatories on the first floor. One had been built rather strangely into the back of the school, far off and isolated, while the other had too many memories of trolls for Merula to consider using.
"Boy Who Became Paste," Merula recalled her words that fateful day, smiling a little as she remembered the stunned look on Potter's face.
"Pardon?" A.J. was looking at her strangely, amusement in her eyes but her lips in a hard line. "Something about paste?"
The laugh died in Merula's throat. "It's nothing, sorry about that."
"I'm intrigued," A.J. said, stopping in her tracks and crossing her arms. "Come along now, don't be shy with details."
Merula laughed nervously at A.J.'s demand. "Do you remember the troll in the lavatory?"
"The one the Gryffindor almost got eaten by?" A.J. scoffed. "Of course I remember that one. It was sent in my Quirrell, wasn't it? That was the story we were told last year after he… suffered the DADA jinx."
Merula nodded, wondering in her head what jinx A.J. was talking about. "I found Potter and Weasley going along to try to save their pretty Muggleborn princess. And I told him all he was going to become was the Boy Who Became Paste."
A.J. snorted in laughter. "That's funny. Has a certain ring to it. Perhaps that could be a… gift idea, just as a friendly little jest. Not this year though. He needs to pay for stealing the House Cup from us."
Merula thought of the idea for a moment before she passed the corner of the corridor they were in, and she noticed the sign for a girls' lavatory, at the end of the hall, scruffed and clearly in disuse.
"Why did they build a lavatory out here?" Merula asked, looking around the deserted hallway with some disbelief. "There's nothing here."
"Couldn't tell you the answer to that," A.J. said. "It's a pretty isolated spot, especially for those of us who want to do things… out of sight."
"Like brew dangerous potions," Merula guessed.
A.J. tilted her head slowly, a small smile on her face. "Well, yes, but also other things. Illegal dealings, informal duels, making out with our boy-"
"Too much information!" Merula shrieked, suddenly mortified as she looked down on the chipped and grimy tile floor of the lavatory, her mind wondering what exactly had been happening on the floor she was walking on and feeling increasingly dirty just for standing in the room. Tiffany's blush at the Great Hall suddenly made sense too.
"But back on topic," A.J. chuckled, her shoe tapping against the side of a small cauldron simmering on the side of the lavatory. "What do we have here?"
"It's a potion," Merula said as she walked over to the simmering cauldron. That much was obvious, but she wasn't familiar with what the cauldron contained. "I'm not sure what kind."
"Polyjuice," A.J. said, approval evident in her voice. "Incomplete of course, but a competent batch. Not bad. Probably not a second year brewing, but it doesn't matter. It's not a Slytherin creation, and thus it's on us to ruin their plans."
"This is the potion that changes your appearance, right?" Merula asked, to which her older roommate nodded.
"I taught a fifth year on how to make it last year," A.J. said with a shrug. "He paid me a handsome amount for the knowledge. Granted, he gave it to your friend Zabani afterward, so I'm not sure he's the brightest tool in the shed."
Merula grimaced at the memory of being accused of attacking someone in broad daylight, wearing a boy's uniform. "They were pretty dumb."
"You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make it drink," A.J. said as she crouched down next to the cauldron. "Now, I'm going to have to bring this up with the rest of our informal committee."
"Committee?" Merula asked.
"Committee for Retaliation and Reclamation of House Pride," A.J. explained. "Several of us set it up over the summer after the debacle with Potter winning the House Cup. In short, we're here to make the lives of the Gryffindors miserable for last year, and of course, win the House Cup. And given that I'm sure your weird Gryffindor is connected somehow given the book, this is fair game."
"Oh," Merula looked down at the cauldron bubbling away. "And what do we do with this?"
"There are a few things we can do," A.J. said, her arms crossed her midsection as she stood up, a dangerous light behind her green eyes. "To start, the simplest choice is to kick the cauldron over and walk away, but where's the fun in that?"
Merula glanced behind her, checking on if Granger or someone else was about to walk through the door, but it seemed like they were alone. Even the "ghost" that was said to haunt the lavatory seemed to be out.
"Another option would be to add something to the potion," A.J. said. "A little stream of water would mean that the potion would be useless when someone drinks it, not that anyone brewing the potion would need to know that."
Merula looked down at the bubbling pot. "What are you going to do?"
"Me?" A.J. asked, her voice amused. "I'm not going to do anything. You reminded me of the problem, and you get the reward of deciding how this ends."
Merula looked down at the pot, her mind running. "How many points are we up on Gryffindor?"
"Not enough," A.J. replied, the smile in her voice evident even without Merula looking up at her. "Never enough, especially seeing what Dumbledore pulled last year."
"And how many points could we get Gryffindor to lose?" Merula asked. "Especially if we catch Granger in the act of brewing an illegal potion?"
A.J. smiled. "And now you're speaking my language. We'll make a champion of Slytherin out of you yet."
Merula nodded as she stood, her wand pointing down at the cauldron. "Aguamenti!"
There was a small stream of water that shot from the tip of her wand, flickering the water away after a few seconds, with no change visible to the bubbling potion within the cauldron. "That should do it, right?"
A.J. turned her head slightly, then she pulled a small bottle from her pocket and poured a clear, spicy smelling liquid into the cauldron. "Muggle vodka. Undetectable unless you were to taste the potion while brewing."
Merula nodded in satisfaction at the result of the sabotage. The potion bubbling within the cauldron still appeared like dark sludge, the water and the Muggle drink having little effect on the physical appearance of the potion, though Merula knew that even one additional ingredient would render the potion useless, much less two separate and fundamentally alien ingredients.
"Shall we go?" A.J. asked, her voice sounding cheery as she stretched her arms, a confident smirk on her face.
Merula paused, and she thought of the Mudblood Granger as she looked around the walls of the room. "What if we… scared her?"
"Oh?" A.J. sounded intrigued. "Sounds like you have a personal issue with Miss Granger."
"I lost my pair of shoes last year," Merula explained. "While running from Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. And Granger decided to gift me with these… awful shoes."
"Docs," A.J. corrected. "I've worn them. They're fundamentally immortal, but the first few months are painful as hell. They suited you, by the way."
"Well I didn't have anything else to wear at the time," Merula grumbled. "And even though I liked wearing them after a while, I know she gave them to me to give me hell."
"And that's a slight that needs avenging," A.J. said with approval in her voice. "What are you thinking?"
Merula looked up at the grimy, dirty walls again. "Wasn't there some sort of attack on Filch? His dumb cat?"
"There was," A.J. replied, becoming silent for a moment, nodding slowly before she spoke again, a small smirk on her face. "I like that idea. Now, watch me."
Merula watched silently as A.J. took a step back from the sabotaged cauldron, her wand flickering as neon green writing, hasty and messy, appeared on the wall.
"The Heir of Slytherin sees you," Merula read the message out loud. "And the Heir remembers all of the insults visited upon their House."
"Vague enough to be threatening," A.J. confirmed. "And given the Polyjuice brewing across the room from the wall, it's not like they can just call a professor to help."
Merula let out a low whistle. She hadn't even considered that possibility, but A.J. was right. Any message to the potion's brewer, even if it wasn't the Mudblood Granger, couldn't be reported if the Polyjuice Potion was sitting right next to the message.
"So," Tiffany asked when Merula and A.J. sat back down at their table. "How did it go?"
"Gryffindors aren't the best at covering their tracks," A.J. replied, shrugging. "A little dash of vodka and the potion is done."
"Why did you waste vodka?" Tiffany sounded annoyed. "Isn't that stuff expensive?"
"If you want to ruin your enemies, then you spare no expense," A.J. replied, holding a glass of hot coffee high. "To our Merula's first victory."
"Didn't you get the Weasley girl in trouble a few weeks back?" Deborah asked. "Doesn't that count?"
"Merula dealt the blow this time," A.J. replied with a mock tear wiped from her eye. "Our little evil genius is growing up right before our eyes!"
"And is that good news or bad?" A new voice joined the table, and Merula looked over to see Marcus Flint scowling, his arms on the table as he glared down at Merula and her roommates.
"Got your broom shoved somewhere where the sun doesn't shine, Flint?" A.J. scoffed from her side of the table. "What happened? Eat a quaffle?"
"Well to start, we lost the game," Flint growled. "Potter caught the fu- the Snitch again."
"Oh really?" Tiffany sounded amused. "Did he eat it again?"
There were a few chuckles around the table at that, and even Merula smiled at the memory, but Flint wasn't smiling.
"Your brother is awful at Seeker," Flint said, his eyes bearing down on Merula.
"Draco?" Merula spluttered. "What was he doing on the pitch? Wasn't Higgs-"
"Higgs retired," Flint snapped, his fingers making air quotes around the second word. "I caught him with a fat bag of Galleons. No points for guessing where they came from."
"Ah, bribery," A.J. shook her head. "The oldest damn trick in the book. How much was it?"
"Two hundred," Flint replied. "We caught Higgs counting them and… well, if memory serves correctly the rest of the team used them as skipping stones on the lake."
"They're coins," Deborah muttered. "How are they- oooooh… that's nice."
"So now Higgs has two hundred Galleons sitting at the bottom of the lake," Merula said, thinking to herself. "He's… not going to come with more pumpkin juice, is he?"
"Not unless he wants to leave Hogwarts in a box," A.J. said. "And that's assuming I don't dispose of him like we did with Rakepick."
"Isn't that a bit too harsh?" Tiffany asked. "I mean, he hasn't killed anyone…"
"Perhaps," A.J. shrugged. "But I'm petty and it's an effective threat."
"Merula," Flint said. "I can assure you that Higgs will not come near you ever again. But that's not what I came to talk to you about today."
"Then why would you?" A.J. asked.
For a moment, Merula thought that Flint was reconsidering what he was doing, given that he became very quiet, his fingers drumming nervously against the table and his eyes down, hidden by his hair and the angle to which Merula could see.
"I want to loan out your broom," Flint said finally, though he was looking over to A.J. rather than Merula herself.
"Why would Draco need my broom?" Merula asked, not understanding the request. "He has his own, unless… he broke his broom?"
"Not to Slytherin," Flint said simply. "To Ravenclaw."
"Who are you and what have you done to Marcus Flint?" A.J. snarled, her wand pointed as she stood up, her voice transitioning to a barely audible hiss. "Answer me or else."
Flint raised his hands in surrender. "I was trying to think like you, so please, hear me out."
Merula exchanged glances around the table, first to Tiffany and Deborah, both of whom shrugged, then to A.J., who she gave a small nod to.
"Fine," A.J. said, lowering her wand, though she remained standing. "Tell me what your Quaffle brain cooked up."
"We already lost our match to Gryffindor," Flint explained, his fingers nervously tapping the table as he paused. "Having an extra Nimbus 2001 in the hands of Higgs isn't going to help us."
"Why Ravenclaw?" Merula asked.
"A few reasons," Flint said, his eyes darting from side to side. "The Gryffindor match is the biggest of the season, and since we've already lost that because your brother is a blasted idiot, the only way we can tip the odds against Gryffindor is to make the other two teams better."
"Is Hufflepuff still going with Cedric?" Tiffany asked. "He's been there like forever."
"They are," Flint nodded. "But Ravenclaw has a new Seeker, a third year student by the name Cho Chang."
Merula nodded, her mind running in circles. "This new Seeker is probably the weakest of all four Seekers, right? Potter has his fancy broom, Hufflepuff obviously has an experienced Seeker, and Draco has an even fancier broom than Potter."
"She'll need time to adjust to the new broom," Flint argued. "Pretty big upgrade going from a five year old broom to a new professional one. Which is why I'm asking you she can get experience with your broom before Potter has to face her."
Merula glanced over to A.J., still pacing, and to her surprise, received a nod in turn. "Flint's reasoning checks out. Besides, Draco barely has any experience with his broom, so if this Cho girl is any good, she'll make a fool of him on the pitch, and maybe Potter too."
"That's what you get out of this deal, by the way," Flint said. "Draco is an idiot, and while I can't touch him because of his father, I could still make him miserable by… making his life harder on the field."
Merula let out a slow breath, glancing over to A.J., then Deborah, then Tiffany, and receiving a nod from each of them. "Alright then. Where's the broom now?"
"We took it from Higgs after the game," Flint said with a small nod. "We're just polishing it for further use."
Merula nodded. "And where is this Cho?"
"Hufflepuff table," A.J. said, sliding a small wooden mirror over to Merula. "Don't make it obvious you're looking, but she's the boring looking one in the middle of the crowd of harpies."
Merula picked up the hand mirror, and she held it up, pretending to look at her hair but really looking at the Ravenclaw table. Indeed, it wasn't difficult to find where A.J. was pointing her to.
Merula wasn't going to describe Cho Chang as boring, but she could see where A.J. was coming from, given that she seemed to be only one of two girls in the gaggle of six who didn't wear wild makeup and talk at ear-splitting volume, and the other relatively normal girl reminded Merula as a disturbing mixture of Granger's hair volume and Weasley's hair colour.
Cho was pretty, sure, but in Merula's opinion any girl who put any amount of care in her looks could be pretty. She had lived in the same bedroom as A.J. and Tiffany, both of whom spent a considerable amount of time getting ready.
The only exception to that rule were Granger, Pug-face and the female trolls that surrounded her. No amount of makeup could make them look presentable.
"Merula," A.J. said. "How do you want to play it?"
Merula looked up from the ornate little mirror and set it down. "What do you mean?"
"There's maybe a dozen different ways we could get your broom to its… destination." A.J. explained. "But since I'm not familiar with this Cho girl, I can't tell you how she is going to react to each approach, much less the small army she had following her every move. Too many moving parts for any of that to be predictable."
"What do you think should happen?" Merula asked A.J. "I mean… without the crowd."
A.J. paused for a moment, her green eyes looking back at Merula's own before a bitter smile crossed her lips. "So it falls to me, doesn't it?"
Merula felt bad at the words, but before she could protest, A.J. had pulled a quill from the depths of her robe, scribbling on a scrap of paper and folding it into a paper plane.
"Let's hope this works," A.J. said before she tossed the plane into the air at the crowd of Ravenclaws.
Merula let out a breath as she picked up the little mirror again, holding it up just in time to see the little paper plane fall. It was such a silly, blunt plan, so unlike A.J.'s usual plans, which danced around potential problems with a delicate, practised grace.
And then the paper plane was torn out of the air by the witch with red, bushy hair.
"Good catch," A.J. muttered, though she sounded more annoyed than anything else. "Maybe-"
And then the witch with the red bushy hair flicked open the message, holding it for just a few seconds before she crushed it in her fist.
Merula winced, though she couldn't bear to look away from the mirrored reflection, especially since the witch with the red bushy hair seemed to be glaring her down with dark, irritated eyes.
And then, still watching from the mirror, Merula could only sit in silence as the red-haired witch tossed the crumpled ball into the air and set it alight, the flames turning her hopes and dreams into ash.
"Well," Flint said, his voice wincing. "She didn't see the message at all, did she?"
"No," A.J. said. "The girl in need of a hair potion got it before she did. Shame."
"So much for that plan," Flint muttered. "What now?"
"It's not over until it's over," A.J. said as she sat down. "I requested a meeting outside the Prefect's washroom at seven. If the knock-off Weasley shows, perhaps we can convince them then. Until then we wait."
Merula wasn't particularly happy with the plan, but deep down, she was nonetheless relieved they still had a chance.
AN: Have a (relatively) major plot change (and three chapters posted in as many minutes).
