"Expecto Patronum!"
Theodore managed a silvery wisp. It was darker and managed to stay intact longer for dissipating. "You're improving, Theo. Just keep trying," Blaise encouraged. He, too, only managed wisps.
Draco was having the hardest time trying to "lose himself in his happiest memory."
"This is harder than I thought," he muttered.
Artemis tried meditating and clearing his mind, using the techniques from his father's Occlumency lessons. Maybe it would be easier to lose himself in a happy memory after he took all of his scheming out on the side.
"I'm through with this," Draco sighed dejectedly after a while. "I need to live longer before I get a memory that's powerful enough. Let's talk about Animagi instead."
The other boys, who were also exhausted, agreed and opened the new books that Blaise had gotten them. They skimmed the passages in turns.
"As an Animagus, once the initial process is over, we can transform at will – and not just the body parts, but the clothing as well will transform. We can communicate with other animals of the same species, too."
"In the process of identification, we will all have these unique markings on our animal form that look distinctly like us somehow. If we get injured, or ill, it will also reflect upon our Animagus form."
"An unregistered Animagus who is caught will have to pay a large fine and serve time in Azkaban. I guess that means we can't get caught."
"Known Animagi are: Falco Aesalon, a Falcon, Morgan le Fay, a bird, and Cliodna, a sea bird…Ooh, Minerva McGonagall, a cat."
"The process will be extremely slow. It's also extremely dangerous. It could backfire, and we could get stuck halfway. Ouch."
"We have to do a lot of meditation and concentrate on our innermost strengths. How is this supposed to work?"
"First we have to take regular doses of a shifting potion, which allows our bodies to become more versatile, before trying these series of spells. They're like the Patronus because you have to think of something when you cast them, only this time instead of a very powerful, happy memory it's your own personality."
"How odd."
"Well, we might as well start the potions now. The only problem is getting past the teachers. We need a special room to ourselves for this – I'm not sure if we can just use the dungeons."
Artemis thought and thought, all the while experimenting on his new glasses. "Hmmm."
"Guys, I have an idea," Blaise said. "Why don't we relax for a while. We're not getting anywhere like this."
"Do you have anything better to do?" Draco asked.
"Let's play a game with the jellybeans! You have to put one on your thumb, like this, flick it up into the air, and catch it in your mouth. But you have to keep your entire arm at your sides. Whoever gets the most wins!" Blaise explained.
"I'll pass," Artemis said, wrinkling his face, "since I'm a 'soulless monster' who doesn't like candy."
"Me, too," Draco said, looking bored. "What are we even going to gain from this game?"
"I don't know…it sounds like fun…" Theodore said, trying to be nice. "Besides…it kind of helps in coordination, somewhat. And you could be in a situation one day where you're all tied up somewhere, and some evil guy is trying to kill you. And you happen to have these pills that could save your life and your friends' lives. But you can't move your arms, so you have to use your thumbs to flick the pills like jellybeans into your friends' mouths!"
Draco stared at Theodore. Theodore stared back. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. "Theodore, I don't want to be mean to you, but that story is completely stupid and overly improbable, no matter which way you slice it. Firstly, how could a pill save your life from some evil guy? I mean, if you were sick, that would be different, but I'm pretty sure that a measly pill isn't going to cut it against some 'evil guy.' Secondly, how would we even get into such a random situation?"
Theo shrugged. Blaise glared at Draco.
"Fine then, Theo. We'll play the game. Draco's just afraid to lose," Blaise goaded.
It worked.
Draco immediately sat up straight, now that it was a competition. "That's it, Zabini! You're on!"
Artemis rolled his eyes as he watched the other three boys waste the rest of the afternoon messing around with jellybeans. Surprisingly enough, Theo turned out to be the most accurate out of all three boys with the jellybeans and tried to choke Blaise once or twice by purposefully aiming the candy into his friend's open mouth rather than his own. This often resulted in extreme silliness and/or violent interaction between the two boys.
His friends were silly, yes, but Artemis couldn't care less.
They didn't see Theo's silver medallion glowing.
Winter break was over, and classes began again. Granger, as usual, was completely bogged down by her work, and Artemis had yet to discover how she even had enough time to get around to all of her classes. The notion of taking every single elective possible was just neurotic.
But that was none of his business. It would come to him in due time. Right now, there was something else more important to discuss. Artemis had kept track of all the days Professor Snape had to fill in for Professor Lupin. And, of course, it was a full moon each time their Defense professor disappeared due to illness.
Was Professor Lupin a werewolf? Most likely. Statistically, a healthy, grown man becoming ill more than a student trying to skip classes was extremely unlikely. Coupled with all those full moons in a row made it, statistically, near-impossible, regardless of whatever test or distribution type one used. In any event, that meant even more stress on top of the mystery with Sirius Black, and the entire smuggling ring with the fairies, and helping Draco root out the spies, and trying to perform a Patronus and become an Animagus.
So, the best thing to do? Push the responsibility over to another person. As stated in the bestselling book, What Would Machiavelli Do?, by Stanley Bing. The funniest book ever written by any man.
He cornered Granger in the library. If anyone had figured it out, she would have.
"Hermione, I have to talk to you. It's about Professor Lupin."
She looked a bit wary. "What about him?"
"Have you noticed how Professor Snape substitutes for him every month? Every month…at the full moon. And Professor Snape gave us that assignment on werewolves, too. What do you think about it?"
"I think that Professor Snape likes to take advantage of a situation where he has power," Granger said, deliberately changing the topic.
"Listen, Hermione, there's no use pretending – we both know it's true."
Hermione was a bit pale. "You – you won't tell on him, will you? He's the first decent teacher we've had in ages, and he's really nice to us. He's even teaching Harry how to make a Patronus. At any rate, he hasn't attacked anyone yet and I think he's a really good person – " she rambled. Artemis pressed a finger to her lips.
"Shush," he whispered. "I'll keep his secret for now. The only problem is that it seems a bit suspicious, you know? The entire Sirius Black case is still around. I won't call him guilty, but we can't cross him off from the list of suspects, either."
Granger, tight-lipped and pale, nodded. "I don't want to think of him that way, though…he's such a sweet man…"
"It has nothing to do with prejudice," Artemis said. "It's innocent until proven guilty, but suspect until proven innocent. We cannot eliminate a single possibility – we both know that. Keep your mind open."
He turned and left.
There was a scratch on his notebook. Quickly making sure that no one was looking, he opened it.
"I found something really cool. It's perfect for our Animagus project. I just wandered right into it, too. Meet me on the 7th floor during lunch – Blaise."
Wanting to see what was so amazing that everyone had to give up their lunch, Artemis walked up to the seventh-floor corridor. "Blaise, what are you doing?" The other boy seemed to be walking back and forth in front of a blank wall.
His other comrades seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"Just watch. I want an untrackable room perfect for my friends and me to become Animagi in. I want an untrackable room perfect for my friends and me to become Animagi in. I want an untrackable room perfect for my friends and me to become Animagi in. " He walked across a certain patch of wall three times – and then a door appeared. "Neat, huh? Just wait until you see the inside."
"What is this?" Draco asked.
"I don't know, but it gives you everything you ask for," Blaise said. He walked back in after them and shut the door. "Look!" he pointed around the room. There was a large bookcase, lined with nearly every reference imaginable on becoming an Animagus. Also among them were books on perfecting the morphing potion. Comfortable couches surrounded a blank patch of ground.
"Perfect for meditation," Artemis said, experimentally sniffing the air, "though it smells a bit like a deus ex machina."
"How did you even find this, Blaise?" Theodore asked.
"Completely by accident," he said proudly. "I was walking around thinking that very phrase, and I stopped right here to pace – and a door just opened up for me. Neat, huh?"
"Weren't you afraid that it was a trap of some sort?"
"Kinda at first, yeah. But then I decided 'why the heck not; I've got nothing to lose' and opened it and saw all this. I think the Founders must have created this room by themselves – they wouldn't put something Dark or dangerous inside a school."
Draco made a cough that sounded suspiciously like "Chamber of Secrets!"
"Oh, and if you're hungry, just ask for it in your mind. Food will just appear."
"That's not possible, though," Artemis said. "Food is one of five exceptions to the laws of elemental Transfiguration."
"Then it probably just took it directly from the kitchens. It's not as if they'll notice a few missing rolls from the pile meant for hundreds of students," he said nonchalantly.
Theodore experimentally summoned a croissant. He bit into it. "Hey, this is actually really good. Legitimate food for once." He began nibbling around the browned edges. "We could have our lunch in here all the time, except that they'd notice us missing."
"Could we practice Patronuses in here, too?" Draco asked.
"Yeah, but we can practice Patronuses anytime. This is not exactly…legal," Blaise said.
"Since when did we ever follow the rules?"
They laughed.
Artemis found Granger crying again, only this time, it was more of a sour, angry cry than a sad one.
"Let me guess: your friends are being idiots again?" he asked.
"Pretty much. I'm sorry, Artemis, I don't mean to – it always seems that I'm clinging to you for comfort; I feel bad about making you my – my psychologist or something – I shouldn't keep this up…"
"It's perfectly fine, Hermione. I may be a cold-blooded Slytherin, but I can be a good friend," Artemis said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he had time to register what he just said. The scientist inside of Artemis was currently pounding him to bits for this – always think before you talk, especially to a girl, you idiot!
Funny. He'd never had this problem before.
Puberty could go die in a hole.
"Harry got his Firebolt back. It wasn't cursed, and as you predicted, they were perfectly happy with me again. I thought it would stay that way, but no – there's always something that's racking up tension between Ron and me."
"I'm sorry."
"He thinks that my cat killed his rat. I know it's not true – Crookshanks may be bad tempered at times, and he likes to chase Ron's rat Scabbers around just for the fun of it, but he doesn't actually want to eat him! He's too smart for that!"
"What was his evidence?"
"Scabbers was gone, there was blood on his pillow, and around the scene of the crime there were a bunch of ginger cat hairs. It doesn't look too good on Crookshanks' part. I don't know how to prove that he was innocent."
"What you can do is simply apologize for now, since the 'evidence' is too incriminating, and try to convince Ronald that your friendship is more important that his rat. How old is that thing, anyway? He's had it since first year, and rats only live for three years at the maximum. It was going to die anyway; at least it went valiantly," he said.
"Actually, Ron said that his brother Percy owned him first. I feel a bit bad – Scabbers has been in his family for twelve years."
"Twelve years? How is that possible? Is it a magical rat or something?" Artemis had had several lab rats in his lifetime, and even with the best care (or maybe not the best care, since they were laboratory-experiment-testing rats, after all) they only survived up to four years.
"I don't know. Scabbers looked like a normal rat. Maybe it's the magical influence."
"Maybe."
"What's egging Weasley?" Blaise asked later. They were back in their dormitory, practicing their Patronuses again. All of them were improving, but no one had managed a corporeal form yet. Tired and bored, they gave up the time to mindless talk instead (in Blaise's case), silent brooding (in Draco's case), doodling (in Theodore's case) and scheming – I mean, strategizing (in Artemis' case).
"Apparently Granger's cat killed his rat."
"Oh, the horror. Let us all bow in memory to Scabbers, and let the scar on Goyle's finger be a lasting tribute to his memory," Draco said sarcastically. Artemis raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, it was from the train, first year. Weasley's rat bit Goyle on the finger."
"I don't get why Weasley would be so mad," Theodore said. "I mean, it's just a useless, sleepy rat, right? I'd be a bit mad, sure, but I wouldn't stop being friends with someone over that."
"He's just an idiot. What do you expect?"
The boys sat in silence.
"What I find odd, though, is the fact that the rat has been around for so long. What were they even feeding it?"
"Weasel-bee's famous stew of immortality. You'll become so awful, not even Death will want you."
"You're funny."
"Nah, I'm truthful."
"I'm serious, guys."
"No, Sirius is romping around Hogsmeade or in the castle somewhere, trying to off Potter."
"That was an awful joke, Blaise," Artemis said sourly.
"Are we back onto the Sirius Black topic again? I don't want to talk about that guy right now. He gives me the creeps – sneaking around like some shadow, and then crawling into a school and slashing pictures of women. That's not the mark of a very mentally stable man," Theodore said.
…
"Back to Patronuses?"
"Yeah. Someone needs a happy memory."
A/N: If you haven't read What Would Machiavelli Do?, read it! It nearly got me kicked out of class, though, so you have to be careful.
P.S. Everything has a purpose. EVERYTHING.