A Snake in the Nest, Chapter Twelve
A.N. Honestly? I can't believe I'm writing my fourth chapter in a day. I think I can feel my brains leaking out of my ear.
They left lunch, and warily made their way to the DADA classroom. It was already packed with the female half of the class, though they weren't late. The boys gladly sat in the back, letting the two girls walk forward and take some seats near the front. Cooro began tapping his wand on a piece of parchment while muttering under his breath, watching in interest as it began to flash different colors.
Lockhart walked in, grinning widely and Cooro lost interest in what he was saying immediately.
Too many titles, not enough brain. He began to page through his Charms textbook, trying to find something to distract himself from the man in front of him. Husky tapped his shoulder and whispered "Page seventy three." He flipped to it and found a charm that would force the person it was cast on to speak the truth. It was mentioned in theory, and it stated that only very advanced wizards should attempt it.
He whispered it to Senri, who then told Neville and Ron, who told Harry, who showed Seamus, and on and on until only the girls in the room were even listening. Some boys were instead looking at other things, such as the third chapter of their history book (something that was far more interesting when their teacher wasn't there), which was about the battle between Grindelwald and Dumbledore.
It took a while for their teacher to stop talking about himself, and hand out a quiz. The quiz wasn't much better; it asked questions such as what Lockhart's birthday was, and his secret ambition.
Husky scribbled down an answer to the second, smirking.
To become so big-headed that he literally exploded, thus ridding us all of his presence. He was aware this would probably earn him a detention, but he didn't honestly care. He continued through the test, putting down sarcastic remarks at every opportunity.
Cooro glanced at his paper and chortled a bit, before continuing his own paper. Looking at it, Husky could see no answers, and instead a drawn out version of the seventeenth goblin war met his eyes. Cooro was flipping through the textbook again, looking for a charm that would make them move.
He found it, and somehow managed to cast it properly as the papers were collected. Cooro sighed, disappointed that he probably wouldn't get it back, and he hadn't been able to add sound effects. Maybe next time.
Harry turned and asked quietly what the others had been writing as answers. Husky and Cooro both spilled and listened with interest.
It seemed Senri had filled them all in with his own answers, Ron hadn't bothered writing anything, and Harry had written the proper answers…
"Backwards and on all the wrong questions." He grinned, and the others laughed. Neville that he'd tried to write the correct answers, but "didn't bother reading the books earlier, so it's just as bad, really."
They watched with rapt attention as Lockhart read over their papers. All of them could tell, even from their seats, exactly when he'd reached their papers. Cooro reminded himself to ask for his back later; he would probably never get the chance to remake it.
Lockhart finished, and began admonishing those who didn't know his favorite color was lilac, or that he wanted to begin marketing his own hair care supplies. Husky thought that it was one of the few things he'd be good at. That or talking.
Perhaps a politician…He tuned in as Lockhart complimented Hermione, who was blushing. Nana giggled a bit into her hand, and from his seat Husky could see her kick Nana under the table.
"Now, I don't wish to frighten you, but I have in this room some of the most dangerous creatures known to wizard kind. Be assured that you will come to no harm while I am here." He placed his hand on the cover of a cage that nobody had really noticed until now.
Husky felt himself leaning forward in interest, and saw most of the others doing the same. Cooro was drawing on a spare piece of parchment, though, and didn't even seen to notice what was going on. Senri was equally uninterested, and was trying to see what Cooro was drawing.
Lockhart warned them all not to scream, then ripped the cover off.
"Freshly caught Cornish pixies." Harry managed not to laugh, until his gaze wandered over to Ron. They stared at each other for a moment, before they both burst out in loud hoots of laughter. Seamus and the other boys joined in quickly, and Cooro and Senri looked up from the now sparkling piece of paper. Lockhart raised an eyebrow at Seamus, who was being the loudest.
"Yes?" Seamus managed to reign in his laughter enough to answer.
"Well, they're not very dangerous, are they?" Lockhart waggled a finger at him.
"They can be particularly difficult blighters; don't take them lightly." Neville looked at the cage skeptically.
"I think we had some in the garden. A potion of rose oil and niffler hair got rid of 'em in a week." Lockhart glared at him, before regaining his composure.
"Well, then let's see what you make of them." And he opened the cage.
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"You still in love with Lockhart, Hermione?" Ron asked as they finally escaped from the classroom. They'd been the last ones out, and Lockhart had asked, (more like told), them to get the rest into their cage. Hermione, who knew a kind of Freezing spell, had told the rest and had managed to get the pixies back into their cage. They'd dropped Neville off at the Hospital Wing, as he'd fallen from where the chandelier had hung, and were now heading to dinner.
"Oh, honestly Ron! He just wanted us to get some experience, that's all." Husky scoffed.
"Experience? He didn't look or act like he knew what he was doing." Hermione rounded on him.
"Just look at his books! Look at what he's done!" Ron muttered something under his breath that sounded like "he says he's done."
Nana looked up from her discussion with Cooro, who'd been explaining exactly what he'd done to his paper.
"It doesn't really matter, does it? No," she answered herself, "it doesn't. Now the three of you stop acting like children." Husky scowled at being called a child, but didn't speak another word, and they walked into the Great Hall in silence.
Cooro would point out, a few weeks later in the Common Room, that Lockhart didn't bring in any more creatures, and wasn't that great?
He pointed out to Senri that Husky had immediately listened to Nana, and isn't that interesting?
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Remus looked over the roster again, then sighed and set it away. There was no Jerard in that office either.
He was lucky to have access to these records. They weren't classified, but few copies existed. He'd pulled a few strings (just because he was a known recluse didn't mean he knew no-one), and gotten a copy made.
Though it seemed fruitless to search this way. He knew there was a spell for it, but he couldn't remember it, and he could find no mention of it in any books.
The photo him didn't remember either, so he instead had began to read. Sighing, he turned to the next department.
Proper Magical Procedures Office. He raised an eyebrow at that.
"Sounds like a right boring job… Procura!" The spell came to him in a flash. Quickly, he cast it over the papers, saying the spell and following up with the name he was looking for, Jerard.
Finally, four names burst out of the paper, listing the full entry and where they worked. He wrote them down on another paper, then tidied up the register. Finally, he had something to work with.
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"Is this a good idea?" Neville asks for the seventh time. He stands with Cooro, Senri and the twins as they set up a rather odd looking box that is glowing faintly.
"No, of course not. That's why we're doing it." Cooro answers, grinning. He takes pity on Neville's frightened look.
"Relax; it won't hurt anyone, it's just a joke. Besides, you are in no way going to be connected to this. It'll probably me n' the twins that get caught." He relaxes, but only slightly. This was in part because he is holding up another box, while George takes the green bulbs out and, with Fred levitating him around, places the bulbs around the walls and doorways.
Senri is holding Cooro up in the air while he places matching bulbs on the opposite side, as his wings aren't likely to fit in the hall and there's no room to flap them. Besides, he'd explained, the wind would disrupt the plants, and they didn't want that.
They really didn't want that. Finally, it is finished, and George picks up the glowing box, hesitates, then throws it in the air. Red powder spills everywhere, and it appears to float, covering every inch of the area while leaving the boys clean.
"Australian delay powder. It'll make the spells we put on the bulbs wait a few hours before activating." Fred explained as he Vanishes the box and hurries them away.
"Added benefits are that it also takes away any traces of the spell caster and won't stick to anything breathing." Neville frowns a bit, glancing back at the innocent looking bulbs. As he watches, they disappear.
"And what will they do, anyway?" He looks at Cooro, who grins at him.
"Well…" The twins turn around, talking while walking backwards towards the Tower.
"It might…"
"Hypothetically, of course…"
"Give anyone who walks under them…"
"Flowers for hair."
"Matching their personality."
"Of course."
"Because it's no fun otherwise."
"And it may…"
"Potentially…"
"Not wash or be spelled away for at least a month."
"Shorter, of course, if the person showers in acid."
"But we're leaning away from that possibility." Neville blinked. Apparently, Cooro had gained the ability to talk like the twins, and was utilizing it. Senri chuckled, and Cooro beamed at him.
"Fun, isn't it? The twins wanted a widespread prank that couldn't be traced back to them…"
"But Cooro got the idea of flowers. It's so girly we had to do it!" They'd reached the Fat Lady, who regarded them with reproach.
"Have you five been up to something?" Senri kept his mouth shut, but the four others all grinned happily.
"No ma'am."
"Wattle bird," George added, and the portrait swung open.
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Cornelius Fudge wasn't easy to scare, according to himself. He'd lived through the war, and anyone who went through that alive and sane was not easily frightened.
It never occurred to him that plenty had seen worse than he did.
Nevertheless, he was scared as he went around for a yearly inspection, pushed to an earlier time in lieu of the recent escape.
The fear didn't come from the dementors; he had his Patronus, a walrus, swimming along next to him that kept them at bay.
No, he was scared of the screaming that came from every cell. He knew they deserved their punishment of constant fear and despair, but couldn't they have the decency to be quiet about it?
H reached the top floor, where Black had been. There was screaming here as well, but as he listened, it was of anger, not terror.
"Pettigrew! When the Dark Lord finds you, you'll wish you'd never been born!"
"I'll rip out your eyeballs and fry them on a stick!"
"You'll only wish you were in hell, double-crosser, when we catch you!" And on and on. He shuddered.
The ravings of madmen, no doubt. Pettigrew was dead, and his killer was on the loose.
Behind him, Kingsley Shacklebolt listened with interest, wondering how so many prisoners could possibly believe that Pettigrew was the real traitor, and alive to boot, if it wasn't true.
Perhaps it is not…He mused, and decided to pay a certain Alastor Moody a visit.
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He looked around again, jumpy. The centaurs passing, though they hadn't seen him, had made him paranoid of discovery. He was a twitchy thing, and it made his hand unsteady as he looked over the remnants of his last portal.
Nothing had come through it, he was certain, so it had failed. Now he needed to find out what.
Looking back at the book, he reread the spell again, not even wincing at the mention of the blood of an innocent and unicorn blood on top of that. He was simply detached from it.
Finally, he had it.
"Of course! To bring something back, one must…" he grinned, revealing teeth too sharp to be really human.
"Send something in to replace it."