"The Yew Weaver. Remarkable, isn't it?"
"Don't suppose you got 600 Galleons spare?"
Leander had talked Garreth into visiting Sprintwitches with him that afternoon in Hogsmeade. While fellow Gryffindor fifth years, they weren't particularly close. Leander figured that getting Garreth more interested in broomsticks would benefit his scheme. Leander admitted to himself that he could be sneaky like a Slytherin. Maybe it was the house he belonged in second to Gryffindor, but he staunchly believed he was too noble to wear green.
"With a broom like that Gryffindor would win the Quidditch House Cup for sure…" Leander murmured.
Garreth repeated the lament that was common among students at Hogwarts: "Too bad the headmaster banned it this year."
"Your aunt is the deputy headmistress, she could speak to Headmaster Black."
"That won't change anything… Madam Kogawa hasn't stopped badgering his house elf all year. Black's made up his mind."
"Surely if a bunch of professors all approached him together he'd listen?"
Leander's notoriously stubborn persistence was emerging. Garreth's gaze left the display broom for an eye roll.
Leander pushed, "I was chaser for the team last year. Now I got too much free time."
"You could study."
"Oh ha ha…"
At that moment the shopkeeper Albie Weekes finished a sale of sports gloves and approached.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Anything I can help you with?"
"Hello Mr. Weekes," Leander straightened with a smile, "Catch the game last week?"
"I did, another win for Puddlemere United."
"Thought you'd be pleased. Though I'm afraid they won't be winning against the Appleby Arrows on Friday."
"You'll be eating those words, you will." He pointed, good-naturedly. "So, anything catch your fancy?"
"We're just looking today."
"Well you boys give me a yell if you need anything, alright?" He drifted back to the quaffles he was polishing.
"Will do."
Garreth was pleased about the brief diversion from Leander's intensity, but he knew it wasn't something his classmate would drop.
"We should get Natty to convince Professor Onai to speak with Black too." Leander divulged another facet of his plan. He saw nervousness - now Garreth really wasn't meeting his eyes. "...Do you fancy her, Weasley?"
"She's brilliant," Garreth was surprisingly open with his confession. "She can do magic without a wand and she's an animagus to boot."
"Really? What's she turn into?"
"A gazelle… graceful and beautiful creatures…"
Garreth's gaze was back on the broom but that wasn't the focus of his admiration.
"You should talk to her. With Professor Weasley and Professor Onai pleading our case-"
Garreth rounded on him, "This is why you asked me to come here, isn't it?"
"Of course not," Leander's face was too innocent.
"Right. Well I'm going to the Three Broomsticks. I must talk to Sirona about my latest idea."
Leander would accompany him and hold his tongue when Garreth started with his eccentricities over the next few weeks. Until Leander could tell his plan was well and truly going nowhere. It was truthfully not a well thought out plan. Regardless, Leander was fixed on his goal of keeping Garreth's cooperation for now. It would be much harder to butter up Natty because she didn't like him, but that was next on his agenda. Perhaps Garreth could help with that. Eventually his crush would serve some purpose, even if just something to torment him about.
They left Sprintwitches for the cobbled road. Floating brooms swept the path and huge pumpkin patches grew around carts, stalls and between shops. Hogsmeade villagers and fellow students walked by. A trio of third year Ravenclaws were eating toffee apples from Honeydukes. They then entered the old wooden pub and saw Sirona behind the counter.
"Scourgify," she flicked her wand, vanishing the suds by the sink.
"Sirona, I've come up with my greatest invention yet-!" Garreth was more relentless than Leander when it came to his enthusiasm for his hobby. The barkeeper shot him down quick.
"I'll hear none of it today, Garreth. I'm much too busy backchecking supply orders. Now what are you gentlemen after? Butterbeer?"
"I'll have whatever you're trying to get rid of."
"There's some Norwegian pear ciders in the cellar I ordered by mistake."
"One of them, please." Garreth grinned, resting his arm on the counter.
"Make it two." Leander thought they sounded disgusting, but it was important he help Garreth, who wanted to help Sirona.
She knew Garreth hoped she'd taste-test for him, or hand over recipes, but she smiled appreciatively and headed out the back. Garreth sat and drummed his fingers. Leander slid onto the stool beside him.
"So, tell me about this new invention of yours," Leander said.
Garreth lit up at once.
"It involves diluting the kick of fire whiskey with mint and flobberworm mucus. Now hear me out!"
Leander couldn't help pulling a face and now Garreth was prattling on about the merits of his new idea. Leander didn't care about any of this, but if taste-testing a few nasty brews would earn him Garreth's cooperation he'd endure for a few weeks. There was nothing quite so dashing as the quidditch uniforms; Leander missed the added popularity playing the game had earned him. So he listened to the rambling of ounces and drops and flavour combinations, all while imagining himself as the new beater for Gryffindor. He'd really grown out his frame over the holidays and bet he had the strength for it now.
Sirona returned and charged them two knuts each for the yucky cider. Garreth thanked her sincerely, then jumped back into gushing about his stupid concoctions. Leander nodded along, daydreaming of quidditch and how he would go about convincing Natsai Onai.