Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
The Return of Stimpson
How this current situation came about; I haven't the foggiest. But now that it was happening, I couldn't begrudge the opportunity. That is until one of my red-colored gobstones got knocked out of the ring and I was drenched in putrid green gunk by Flora's green gobstone. "You really are quite horrible at this", Hestia commented smugly as she bent over her legs to take her turn with her silvered-colored gobstones.
I shot her a look as I took the time to wipe some of the foul-smelling substance off my left cheek. "Yes, well", I said, neither refuting nor agreeing with her observation. "Gobstones have never been my first choice of games". Honestly, I was surprised that the Carrow Sisters were so fond of it. For two pureblood girls that were supposed to represent all the refined and cherished points of their ancient culture, I found it baffling that they had no problem sitting around a circle drawn in dirt and risk getting smelly liquids squirted at them.
"That's not surprising", Flora said as she smiled gleefully when her sister failed to knock one of her marbles out. "A lot of people don't have the stomach for Gobstones". I don't think she intended it to sound like a judgment, but it sure came out like one. "It's your turn, Ginevra". Ginny wasn't faring any better than me. Her robes are just as stained as mine. But she didn't complain as she picked which gobstone she'd target in a random fashion, clearly not planning on winning. "Our mother hated this game too. She claimed that it left our house smelling rancid and made the servants uppity. She banned us from playing indoors".
Ginny's gobstone didn't make contact with anything and puttered out near the center. Meaning that it was my turn once again. How grand. How did I get talked into participating? I could have been exploring the possibilities of the room of requirement with Fred and George (Having come to the conclusion that it would be the best room to use while plotting Dobby's liberation, I had finally let them know about the room of requirement's existence. Something I was only regretting a little). I could have been playing chess with Ron as we tuned out Hermione's House-elf equality speech. I could have tracked down Adrian and enjoyed an afternoon in his company. But instead, the three first-year Slytherins had found me and asked me to play with them. Apparently, they needed a fourth since Snape had given Luna detention for inventing potion ingredients. I should have told them no. I would have told them no if I had known this is what we would be curiosity won out in the end. How did Ginny interact with her friends?.
Neither of the Carrow sisters commented on Ginny's waste of a turn. Instead, they both looked at me expectantly. Rolling my eyes, I slumped my back in preparation to aim. I should go after one of Ginny's gobstones since she had one close to the edge of the circle. But I really wanted to get one of the Carrow twins to be hit with foul-smelling slime. "But our Father loves gobstones", Hestia said as I went after one of Flora's. "He taught us how to play". The mental image of their father, a death eater, sitting on the floor with two little girls, and teaching them how to play a rather undignified game caused my thumb to slip. My gobstone went way off course and hit nothing. At least it didn't go out of the circle. The thought didn't sit right with me. Especially because I imagined Flora's and Hestia's father to be wearing full-on death eater regalia while he played. Though, I supposed that was evidence of narrowed thinking. Death eater wasn't a synonym for bad father.
Flora lined up her shot. The tip of her tongue sticks out of her lips as she concentrates. A sort of precognition told me she'd be successful, so I leaned back and covered my eyes with the sleeve of my robe. It was a wise preparation on my part because only seconds later the sleeve blocking my face gets coated with something sticky that smells of rotten eggs. "I'm not even sure why you're still playing", Flora gloated in a smug voice. Over-competitive, out for blood, ambitious Slytherins. I grumbled in my head as I attempted to shake my sleeve out. I only had two marbles left in the circle. Clearly, I was being targeted. But at this point, I didn't care. I wanted nothing more than to go back to Gryffindor tower, climb into a shower, and not leave for the next hour. Would Angelina mind if I stole some of her mango-scented shampoo? I don't think she would; considering the alternative was me smelling like a swamp monster until the gobstone stench wore off.
Before I could offer any retort to the first-years that were just a little too pleased with themselves, a shadow loomed over our circle. "Engaging in nursery games, Weasley?" I cringed the moment I recognized her voice. Ever since the train, she'd been relatively quiet in my life. Though I should have known she wouldn't remain silent forever. Wishful thinking never really seems to work out for me. "You're such a lickspittle", Stimpson accused as I tilted my head back to look at her. I didn't bother to turn around. Why waste energy on the likes of her? Though I am curious. What's a lickspittle? Almost sounds like it could have been a character from The Beetle and the Bard. Though judging by the indignant scoffing sounds Flora and Hestia were making, I'm assuming it's nothing flattering. Or maybe, they're just angry Stimpson is calling their favorite game infantile. "Adrian isn't good enough for you anymore? You have to be brown-nosy to first-years from a respectable family, like the Carrows, to raise your pathetic family out of the mud".
Pursing my lips, I take in Stimpson's scrunched-up nose of disgust. Her face was less spotty than it had been previously. Was that the cause of this sudden bout of confidence? I take my time to come up with a response. I wasn't worried about any repercussions. The worst she'd do was cast aguamenti on me again. And based on the state of my robes, I wouldn't mind it, to be terribly honest. Besides, no matter how she responded; she'd just be rubbing salt onto her wounded pride. Nothing she could say would change the fact that I had already won. "Stimpson, I don't have a clue what you're talking about", I said in my best attempt at speaking coolly. I was trying to channel my inner Adrian. But I doubt I've mastered that yet. "I don't think it's odd for me to take an interest in my little sister's friends". I paused to look in Ginny's direction; who had remained quiet throughout this whole thing. She wasn't looking at anyone. Choosing to keep her eyes locked on the gobstones. Like she didn't know how to navigate this situation. I suppose it was conflicting. Does she side with her sister or a senior member of her house? Both options could cause a backlash. I look back at Stimpson. "And as far as Adrian goes, I'll ask you to stop talking like my boyfriend is some passing fling. His tongue is so talented, that I doubt another wizard will ever be able to satisfy me". Of course, that wasn't true. Adrian and I hadn't even kissed yet, so I didn't know if he had a talented tongue or not. But I knew saying that would get under Stimpson's skin. And Stimpson didn't disappoint. Her hair bristled and she clenched her hands into fists as her face turned red.
"And Gobstones", Hestia started to say. I gladly turned my attention to the first years. Ginny had started to blush a pink hue, while Flora stared at me with mild revulsion. I'll probably have to do some damage control and explain that Adrian and I weren't actually doing anything worthy of those looks. Meanwhile, Hestia was doing her best to keep a straight face as she said her piece. "Isn't a baby game. Ginevra and Weasley are helping us practice for the inter-house gobstone tournament. My sister and I are going to win it for Slytherin house this year", she spoke with unfiltered confidence.
"There's a school-wide competition for gobstones?" I asked, happy to ignore the other fourth year.
Both Hestia and Flora nodded.
"Annually?"
They nodded again. I shrugged a little; that's the first I've ever heard of this. Somehow, I doubted this was a competition Gryffindor competed in.
Having come to the conclusion that she wasn't going to get to me today, Stimpson turned her attention to her fellow Slytherins. "And what would your father say if he knew you two were associating with a blood traitor? Our Weasley is understandable". Our Weasley? I knew she was referring to Ginny, but I really disliked that title. Ginny may wear a green and silver tie, but that didn't make her their anything. "But any other person with red hair", Stimpson sneered. "isn't suitable company. Not with their… questionable morals".
I choked on a laugh. That was the best thing Stimpson had said all day. "What's your problem with red hair?" I asked as I looked up at the irate girl with a smile. "I seem to recall a time last year when you dyed your hair red".
Stimpson ignored me in favor of addressing my little sister. "And you Weasley, if you want to be one of us-"
That's as far as I let her go. It's one thing when the two of us are going at each other. We were the same age (physically speaking) and had an ongoing feud between us. But Ginny wasn't a willing participant in any of this. "Considering that my sister has seven older siblings that love her very much, Adrian, who's acting as her mentor, and Hestia and Flora as friends; she doesn't need to belong to any group that you're a part of".
Stimpson locked eyes with me and we glared at each other. A solid minute passed of just us trying to kill each other with our eyes. It had turned into a game of who would break first, and I was determined to win. "Actually", Flora spoke up before our staring contest could come to completion. "Father would be more displeased if we disrespected Uncle Marcellus' choice". Say what now? Uncle Marcellus? His choice? "And Cousin Adrian said Ginevra is already one of us. The sorting hat doesn't make mistakes". While I was pleasantly surprised by Flora's sentiments concerning Ginny, I now had a bundle of new questions. It seems that Cousin Adrian and I needed to have a Q&A.
Stimpson appeared to be having similar thoughts. "Cousin Adrian?" She asked, her voice coming out a bit shrill. It must be embarrassing for her; having just scolded her crushes younger relatives.
"You didn't know?" Hestia asked. "I thought everyone in Slytherin house knew each other's family ties". I thought about that for a few seconds. I suppose that does make sense. All purebloods are related somewhere down the line and when you're only interested in associating with other purebloods you don't want to end up dating someone too closely related. "Cousin Adrian's mother is our aunt. Though she's much older than Father. Our grandparents started early and finished late. That's what father says at any rate".
With all this new information flying around, even Ginny had picked up her head as she took all of this in; staring at her friends with interest. Maybe she was drawing the same idea I was. That her befriending the Carrow twins wasn't a bout of good luck. That was something crafted by a wizard with an agenda. Merlin, I was falling more and more for that boy each day. "We spend every holiday, except for Samhain, with the Puceys", Flora said as she looked at Stimpson. Her eyes were gleaming with the knowledge that Stimpson didn't have. "Auntie Florentina is always teasing Cousin Adrian about Weasley. Ever since he came home for Yule during his first year. Your name has never come up once". She spoke her words with a bit of bite.
Stimpson opened her mouth as if she had a retort, but instead turned on her heel and stomped off like an angry horklump. I never thought I'd feel this way, but damn, I like these Carrow sisters. "Won't we get into trouble?" Ginny asked quietly; pulling our attention to her. She wasn't looking at me, just her peers. "For speaking against an upperclassman?"
"You would", Flora answered. "If you had said anything". I think she meant to soothe Ginny's anxiety but she said it so bluntly it had the opposite effect.
"But we're Carrows. We have more pull than the Stimpsons. So, she can't do anything to use", Hestia continued before returning to our gobstone circle. "Who's turn is it?"
But I couldn't just return to getting pelted with revolting liquids; not when I had just been gifted many little gems of knowledge. "So, you're related to Adrian?"
Hestia and Flora nodded to confirm.
"Got any embarrassing stories about him from childhood?" Heh heh, Adrian was going to kill me.
"Jolly Holly, you've been holding out on us", Fred said as he slung an arm over my shoulders. I rolled my eyes as we stood in the middle of a room that was equipped to meet Fred and George's needs. Which apparently meant a room with a lot of whimsical colors, bottles containing suspicious potion ingredients, cauldrons, and a lot of burn ointment. I hadn't told them about the room requirement before this for good reason... Dumbledore's army wasn't nearly as important as mentioning the department of mysteries the first time I had given them the full order of events. But now that we were here, in this unplottable room, I had the sense that it had been a wise omission. Already, I could see numerous half-started inventions scattered across the room. They had three cauldrons bubbling at once with different colored steam emitting from each of them. Bolts of fabric were leaning against the walls. Some of which have already been cut into. Seems that my brothers were inventing again. And… was that a bubble machine in the corner?
George appeared on my other side. Copying Fred, he slings an arm over my shoulders, effectively caging me in between the two of them. "We had so many new ideas in just one afternoon", he said, voice energized.
"Anti-gravity hats", Fred started to list off.
"Boxing telescope", George continued.
"Canary Cream"
"Screaming yo-yos".
"Holly", George suddenly declared. He retracted his arm and pulled me out from under Fred's so he could place both of his hands on my shoulders. "We're going to make fireworks", he said, emphasizing his words by giving me a shake. "Imagine igniting fireworks to get out of class". Oh, I was imagining it alright. Specifically, the fireworks that would terrorize Umbridge three years from now.
Not one to be outshone, Fred popped up next to George, holding a plate out in front of him. "Canary cream?" He offered me what looks to be ordinary custard creams. "We need someone to be our tester". And didn't I just feel honored that I was the first person they asked.
Shrugging off George's hands and taking a safe step away from Fred's baked goods, I asked, "The room of requirement provided you with all this?" I waved my hands at all the materials they had been inventing with.
"Just about", Fred answered happily. "And we didn't have to pay for, harvest, or recycle any of it. We'd never have been able to afford all this on our own".
"With this room, maybe we really can open our own joke shop one day", George said as he looked around the room in awe. Didn't I tell them about Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? I thought back to the times when we talked about the Harry Potter series based on Jessie's memories. And I couldn't recall if I had told them about their future career. Maybe I should tell them…
"Have you tried asking for basilisk venom?" I asked my fellow triplets. If this room was all-powerful. I was about to feel really stupid for not utilizing it sooner.
"No", George answered as Fred shook his head. "We tried that when we realized it would supply us with what we needed for our jokes".
"But it can't conjure up everything", Fred continued. "It didn't supply us with any of the mundane ingredients we needed for the canary creams". He said, gesturing with his head in the direction of the plate he was still holding. "We had to nick those from the kitchens".
"Which makes sense", George explained. "Considering Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration".
I sighed and ran a hand through my freshly washed hair. After playing gobstones, I had taken a shower and changed before meeting up with Fred and George. "So, Basilisk venom falls under one of the exceptions", I reasoned. That was inconvenient.
"Maybe", Fred said with a shrug. "But it could be something else too. We tried to change our need to destroying Horcruxes to see what the room would do-"
"But all we got was an empty room", George finished.
It was disappointing, but not too surprising. I walked over to one of their bubbling cauldrons and leaned over it to get a good look. This one was red and smelled faintly of iron. I think that the purpose of the room of requirement, like Hogwarts' magic in general, is to protect students. It's why it became a safe haven for the persecuted students during the deathly hallows. Maybe that's why it wouldn't give us the means to destroy Horcruxes. Because the outside threats currently weren't perilous enough to outweigh the danger of what we were trying to do. Or maybe it was because Harry was both a Horcrux and a student and the school had as much of a responsibility to him as everyone else… They were weak theories. George was probably right; about Gamp's law. Though I suppose it is food for thought. We'd just have to hope that Dobby was successful. I look up from their cauldron and over to Fred and George. "So, is there a job for me at your guys' joke shop?" I asked as their faces slowly started to transform into expressions of grotesque intrigue. "What?" I asked after a moment.
George laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. "Well, you see Holls-"
"That potion you were looking at-" Continued a pale-looking Fred.
"Is a nosebleed potion". George finished.
Nosebleed? I think as I raised a hand to touch right under my touch. Pulling my hand away revealed a ruby red stain. Why didn't I feel any of this? "I didn't consume any of it though", I complained as I put my hand back under my nose to try to control the flow of blood. I know some potions can be applied topically, but it hadn't even touched my skin. Only the steam had.
"I guess we made it a little too potent", Fred said. "Maybe if we cut the amount of foxglove by half", he trailed off in thought.
George nodded along with Fred's thoughts. "I don't think we want it to produce that much blood".
My head started to feel airy as blood started to drip off by hand and onto the floor with a thin splat sound. "So, where's the antidote?" I asked with my voice sounding muffled since my hand was in the way. Fred and George pressed their lips together as they turned their heads to look at each other. "How are you going to stop the bleeding?" I rephrase my question, their lack of response put me on edge.
"We haven't… discovered one yet" George admitted.
Of course, they don't have an antidote yet. "I think I need to sit down", I said as my knees started to bend.
"Hey, Holls", Fred said as he stepped towards, shoving the plate of canary creams at George as he did so. "How about you try to stay awake, while George and I take you to the hospital wing", he said as he grabbed my upper arms to keep me standing. He said the hospital wing like we're going to the county fair.
"I bet Madam Pomfrey will be thrilled to see us", George said as he put the plate on the ground and started to help Fred to get me moving. "We haven't seen her since last year. She's probably missing us". George tried to keep the mood light as he and Fred ushered me away; leaving a pitter-patter trail of blood behind us. Damn it. I'm going to need another shower after this.