John had been planning on getting all of his friends presents, he really had been. That was before he remembered he was a twelve year-old child with no source of income, and there was no way he was going to ask his parents for anything. He wasn't always the smartest, and had failed to think of this until the break had already started and there were only two days before Christmas. As such, he did what any reasonable person would do and went to the kitchens to stress-eat. It wasn't curfew yet, so he was sure he would be fine.
"How is Fopsy serving Young Mister John today?" A house elf asked as soon as John entered the kitchens. John squatted down to be closer to eye level with her.
"Can I have some pie?" John asked.
"What kinds of pie is Young Mister John wanting from Fopsy tonight?"
"Any kind will do." He smiled at her. "Surprise me!"
He sat on the ground with his back to the wall, watching the bustle of the kitchens. Dinner was technically still going, but John always thought desserts tasted better when they were made just for him. Perhaps it was a selfish thought, but that didn't stop him from thinking it. He hummed to himself, wondering if he'd ever be properly prepared for Christmas. All he had were Christmas carols he'd heard on the radio at home. He hadn't even realized some of them were Christmas carols, he'd simply found them catchy. John wished his parents celebrated Christmas.
Fopsy scuttled over to him to tell him his pie was finished. It was apple. He thanked her and made sure to inform her it was delicious after he took the first bite. Fopsy was delighted, insisting he tell her if he needed anything else. He asked for warm milk. She provided it and left him to his dessert as she rushed off to assist her fellow house-elves in cleaning up. John ate his pie before sprawling out on the ground near the fireplace. What was he going to do for presents?
"Is there anything Fopsy can assist the Young Mister John with?" The elf approached, worry lacing her voice.
"I just can't think of anything to do for my friends." John pouted, dragging himself to a sitting position. "It's going to be Christmas, you know."
"Yes, Fopsy knows." She nodded. "All the house elves is getting up early to cook the Feast!"
"Isn't that at night though?"
"If we didn't wakes up so early, we wouldn't be finishing in time, Young Mister John!" Fopsy insisted, then covered her mouth as if afraid she'd said something wrong.
"Oh, wow. I didn't realize you worked so hard for the feasts." John commented. "Y'know, that's really impressive." Fopsy beamed.
"Is there anything Fopsy can do to help Young Mister John with his presents?" She asked. John thought for a moment.
"I don't know. I don't have any money, so I can't buy them anything, and even if I could it wouldn't get here in time." John mumbled, and Fopsy shuffled her feet, not liking the thought of being unable to help. "What do the others like…" John mumbled to himself. "Quidditch? Muggle stuff?" He paused. "Chocolate."
"Fopsy can gets chocolate for the Young Mister John!" She chirped, ready to rush off and do so. John sort of wished she would simplify his title, but that was how she referred to the rest of his dorm-mates as well so he supposed it couldn't be helped.
"No, no, chocolate is too simple." John frowned. "How many dessert recipes do you know?"
"Oh, Fopsy knows many many recipes!" She was practically vibrating with the amount of energy she wanted to put toward assisting him. "And if Fopsy doesn't knows a recipe, she can go learns it right away!"
"I think I've got an idea then."
John and Fopsy spoke for another half-hour before John felt satisfied. As he left the kitchens, he tried to think of something he could do to repay the house elf. He didn't have money, though he was sure she wouldn't accept any anyways. Clothes were an automatic no, as his friends had explained to him that giving a house elf (one you didn't own, at least) clothes would be implying it should abandon its master and that was a huge faux pas. There was no point in trying to cook anything for her, as he was sure she was a much better cook than him already. John frowned, stumped. He'd figured out how to solve one gift-giving dilemma, only to run into another one.
He realized he wasn't entirely sure where he was. Had he taken a wrong turn? The dungeons weren't a part of the castle he frequented. All the stone walls looked the same, thanks to the lack of colourful portraits. He knew he needed to go up, but he was having a bit of trouble finding the stairs. John grumbled to himself, turning around and trying to retrace his steps. The idea of a map seemed lovely right about then, but John was also terrible at reading maps so he doubted it would've really been all that much help. Unless it also showed you where you were? Hmm.
Hearing voices ahead, John quickened his pace. Hogwarts was a large school, especially for one with less than 300 students. It was easy to lose oneself in its depths, so hearing people speaking was generally a good sign. Perhaps he'd found some friendly Hufflepuffs? That nice Slytherin girl who'd given him a chocolate frog to give to Remus last year? He wondered if she was still at school or if she'd graduated. John turned a corner, thinking he might vaguely recognize the area from going to Potions lessons, before crashing into two bodies. He wound up on the floor, rubbing his bum.
"Well, if it isn't the girly little mudblood."
John froze, tensing at the sound of Mulciber's voice. His usual fear was accompanied by the anxiety that Mulciber had somehow found out about the state of his body. Surely Mulciber hadn't found out about that? Not even his dorm-mates knew! John looked up at him with wide eyes and his dread worsened as he watched Avery laugh at him.
His heart jumped into his throat as he scrambled away from them, glad he wasn't wearing his school robes as he surely would have tripped on them otherwise. He was also thankful he'd taken the time to slip his wand into his pocket before he went to the kitchens, though he struggled to get it out. Avery and Mulciber only laughed at him more, mocking and generally jeering at him. John's cheeks flushed and he tried to think of any useful spells, but his mind was inconveniently blank. He wanted to punch them again, but he'd already done that once and they'd probably be expecting it.
"How cute, he thinks he can do something to us." Avery pulled his wand out with a lazy sort of ease that made John's blood boil. "Furnunculus!"
Suddenly, his blood wasn't the only thing boiling. John felt boils sprout across his skin and he had the incredible urge to scratch at them but he refrained, presuming it would only make matters worse. Mulciber flicked his wand, casting the leg-locker curse ("Locomotor Mortis!") and causing John to wobble, losing his balance. He tried to cast the jelly-legs jinx to no effect. The only good thing about the painful boils on his face was that they hid his embarrassed blush. His spell hadn't even worked. How pathetic was he?
"Thanks for the suggestion!" Mulciber cackled.
"Locomotor Wib-"
"Expelliarmus!"
Avery's wand flew out of his hand before he could do anything, sailing through the air and into Professor Vertstone's hand. The Slytherin boys looked shocked, and there was no guilt or shame in their face. Only regret that they'd been caught. Mulciber didn't want to try anything in front of a professor, much less one who demanded as much respect as Professor Vertstone, so he hastily shoved his wand into his robes. Professor Vertstone waved his wand, muttering a spell under his breath, and John felt his legs become free once more. He scrambled back to his feet.
"Fifty points from Slytherin." The professor stated, Avery's wand still in his hand. "For harassing another student."
"But professor-" Mulciber started, his and Avery's mouths having dropped open with disbelief.
"Return to your dormitories. I'll be having a word with Professor Slughorn about your behavior." Professor Vertstone said sharply.
"What about my wand?" Avery asked, and the professor held it out to him.
"If I catch you again, you won't get it back so easily." He warned.
With that, the Slytherin boys scrambled off to their common room. Professor Vertstone said nothing to John, only fixing him with a look that told him he was meant to follow. John should have guessed they were going to the Potions classroom, but he hadn't been fully paying attention to the conversation as his skin was covered in itchy, painful boils. The Defence teacher spoke with the Potions Master. It was a short conversation, and John was handed a potion to drink. He felt his skin cool, and when he touched his face it was soft. Softer than it had been before the boils, if he was being honest with himself. It was sort of satisfying.
Professor Slughorn sighed as Professor Vertstone led John out of the Potions classroom. The Defence professor was taking him to the Gryffindor common room, that much was easy to guess. He wondered why Professor Vertstone would be in the dungeons in the first place, but he supposed it wasn't his place to ask no matter how much he wanted to. His curiosity was itching for the words to tumble from his mouth though, so he let them despite knowing his professor wouldn't be interested in answering it.
"Why were you in the dungeons?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"I wanted to say hello to the house-elves, but I got lost." John answered with honesty. "Then I bumped into those two. And I couldn't even cast the jelly-legs jinx." His cheeks flushed red and he watched his toes as they walked.
"The jelly-legs curse." Professor Vertstone corrected.
"Oh." John hadn't known it was a curse. "So what were you doing in the dungeons?"
"I had been on my way to see Professor Slughorn."
"What for?" John questioned further, and Professor Vertstone exhaled through his nose.
"I have… connections with an apothecary. Professor Slughorn ordered ingredients through me." He answered, words said quickly as if he wished the conversation to be over.
"What kinds of connections?" John asked, not paying any mind to this.
"Mister Smith, if you would refrain from prying into my personal life it would be much appreciated." Professor Vertstone fixed him with a hard stare. John shrunk back.
"Sorry." He mumbled. "When do we learn that spell you did? The one that yoinks the wand out of someone's hand?" If Professor Vertstone found the use of the word 'yoink' to be odd, he said nothing of it.
"Later this year."
"Thank you for stepping in, by the way." John said after nodding.
"It is my job." Professor Vertstone pointed out, very much wishing this twelve year-old would shut his mouth.
"Still! I don't know what would've happened if you didn't show up."
"You would've found yourself in the hospital wing with tentacles sprouting from your face."
John shut his mouth. The lack of conversation didn't stretch out for too long, however, as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. John said the password and turned to thank the professor again, but he was already gone. There was no point in trying to find him, so he entered the common room, breathing a sigh of relief as the warm atmosphere comforted him. It was past curfew, so most students were in their dorm rooms save for one of the prefects. John quickly explained Professor Vertstone had walked him back after he'd gotten lost, and succeeded in preventing a loss of house points.
He went up to his bed and curled up under the duvets, easily falling asleep. The next morning, he was vaguely aware of James waking up early as he usually did, but he only pulled the blankets over his head. He didn't properly wake up for another few hours and when he did, nobody was left in the dorm room. John went down to the common room after changing from yesterday's clothes into pajamas, and he found his dorm-mates lounging about. Peter and Remus were playing wizard chess as Sirius and James joked around. He sat in a nearby armchair and watched, enjoying the slow, pleasant day and telling none of his friends what had happened last night with Mulciber and Avery. He didn't want to dampen the mood after all. It was a shameful encounter anyways.
Remembering last year's Christmas morning, John went to bed exceptionally early. This choice granted him a decent eight hours of sleep before James woke everyone up at four in the morning. John was woken by Sirius's shrieks more than anything else. James had covered him in glitter and poured cold water all over him. Somehow, Remus managed to sleep through this. John would've been jealous if he hadn't chosen to go to sleep early.
After Sirius realized it was Christmas morning, he jumped out of bed, glitter be damned. He dove for his presents, and John laughed at him. He went to go wake Remus up in the meantime. Remus looked at him blearily and John hated it because he was cute. They formed a circle on the floor and took turns opening presents. John wound up with several Beatles bobbleheads (courtesy of Allie- he wondered why she thought he liked them so much?), a sack of candy, some books, and a broom care kit amongst other things. James had so many gifts it was hard to count. Sirius's pile was small, but he treasured each gift (aside from the one from his parents) and laughed at the multitude of tennis balls he'd received. Remus's gifts were exclusively made up of books and chocolate; he was easy to shop for. Peter had a varied assortment of things, from joke gifts to a used muggle book on conspiracy theories. That last one was from Remus.
"Oh!" John smiled as Fopsy popped into the room.
"What's an elf doing here?" James asked.
"She helped me with your presents." John answered before Fopsy could worry she wasn't welcome.
"Fopsy is hoping the Young Misters James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus enjoy their gifts!" Fopsy piped up, floating various desserts over to everyone.
"What's this?" Sirius asked.
"Figgy pudding. There's this muggle Christmas carol with it." John said, amused by his friend poking it.
Sirius's face lit up upon learning it was a muggle thing. He was an easy person to please. Peter's dessert was a cheesecake, which would have been more amusing a few years from then. Remus had a chocolate sculpture of a lion (John wasn't sure if he would have appreciated a wolf so he decided to play it safe). He'd given James a treacle tart on a whim, and his guess had turned out well. John smiled. There was also a Yule log cake to share between the five of them.
So, Christmas was fun. John almost forgot about Avery and Mulciber. He distracted himself with the hijinks his friends got up to, indulging in the Christmas Feast when it was time for that. The day after, he scribbled out a drawing of a smiling Fopsy with the words 'best elf' above her head. He convinced Remus to come with him to the kitchens to deliver it to her. It wasn't that he was afraid of Fopsy's reaction, it was more the fear of Avery and Mulciber catching him alone again, but he didn't say anything of that. His friends didn't know about that incident, and John wanted to keep it that way. Remus, being the best at Defence of the group (as well as being wonderful company and exceptionally cute), was the first person he thought to ask to accompany him.
Fopsy cried huge, wet tears at the sight of the drawing, messy as it was, crinkling the parchment in her little hands. It was impressive none of the tears touched the paper, and John patted her on the head. He was rather fond of Fopsy. Remus, feeling somewhat awkward, wondered why he was there. Fopsy carefully tucked the drawing into the tea towel she wore and wiped her face, beaming at John and practically singing her praise. She seemed to have changed his title to 'Kind Master' instead of 'Young Mister' but it was still just as long as it had been before. It took a while to leave, but by the end of it John was glad she enjoyed the present.
The holidays were nice. A pleasant interlude between terms. When the other students returned home for the holidays, the good mood was unfortunately dampened by Professor Dumbledore's speech. One of the muggleborn student's family was nearly caught by Death Eaters. Dumbledore refrained from naming the student, but John suspected the looks sent toward the Ravenclaw table must have meant something. He put emphasis on the solidarity they needed to have, and John feared that his parents were in danger, but he didn't borrow a school owl to write them for fear that their return letter would out him to his friends.
John took his wand out of his pocket, bending the wood, albeit not by much as it wasn't extremely malleable. If he couldn't defend himself against Avery and Mulciber, how would he be able to protect his parents? They wouldn't be able to do anything against Death Eaters. John looked up to the High Table at Professor Vertstone. He needed extra lessons.
Word Count: 3,000
(that's such a clean word count like? holy damn)
Anyways, I hope I wrote Professor Vertstone correctly. And I hope the bullying seems realistic; I've literally never experienced any bullying in my life so it's difficult for me to write. The bit about tentacles is actually because according to the HP Wiki, that's the result of furnunculus and locomotor wibbly being combined lol
I don't have much else to write here, I would love it if you could leave a review! I love all you guys and hope you enjoyed the chapter. See you next time!