Chapter 46: Schemes Galore

A flick and swish of his wand—though still without the spoken incantation—sent one of the desks lurching into the air with a sudden jerk. It did not fly all the way to the ceiling, though, or even all that much farther than he had been aiming for. Good progress, even if it wasn't as much as he would've wanted after two weeks practicing.

Adjusting his mental grip on his magic, Sans selected another target.

Swoosh, into the air a few feet. Thud, back to the floor.

Sirius lazily twirled a piece of chalk between his fingers, clearly thrilled to have opposable thumbs again. "Nice, I didn't have to duck that time."

"i'll be sure to aim more toward you next time," Sans quipped back.

"Well, I'll chew up your slippers if you do." The sound of rasping chalk accompanied his scheming, as Sirius scribbled something else onto the blackboard. "Not much, of course, just a little nibble."

"oh, ha-ha."

Not that he even got to wear his slippers all that much anymore, given how often it seemed to rain here. He did have quite a bit of experience navigating watery terrain while still preserving his fluffy footwear—Waterfall was aptly named, after all—but shortcuts had always been a big help with that. In Hogwarts, with ghosts and students and animate portraits almost literally everywhere, that wasn't really an easy option for class-to-class transport.

Oh, and technically the school uniform only allowed plain black shoes; Sans could get away with wearing his blue hoodie under his robes, but he was fairly certain that the line would be drawn at pink slippers.

Though maybe…

"When did Hermione say they'd come 'round?" Sirius asked suddenly, now tossing the bit of chalk thoughtfully from one hand to the other. Then he paused. "…Did we ever actually set a time? Other than it being today, I mean."

Setting aside his wand—just to be sure he wouldn't accidentally set it off—Sans considered. "uh… no, not really."

"Oh, fabulous."

"i, um, now that i'm thinking about it…" Sans added, mentally kicking himself, "i don't think i told her where we'd be, either…"

Sirius blinked at him, honestly surprised. "And I thought I was the bad-plans guy."

"my plan was fine," Sans defended. "my execution was lacking."

"So… opposite to mine, is it?"

Even if he couldn't really argue the point—and was, admittedly, amused by the quick comeback—Sans gave him a narrow look.

So sue him, he's not used to the finer points of setting up planning meetings with other people anymore. No big deal. For obvious reasons, his schemes up to this point had tended to be solo plots based on generalities—the who, why, and how long—rather than specific dates or times.

Sans'd had a few other schedule near-misses in the past two weeks, and frankly he considered it a victory that he'd managed to show up even vaguely on time to his classes so far (thanks, friend-alarm-clock Sirius).

"At least Harry's got the map by now, if I'm remembering rightly," Sirius murmured to himself. "We won't have to go find them."

Seeing as Sans had just started turning his more magical senses out toward the rest of the castle, intending to do just that, that statement gave him pause. Shooting his friend a questioning look, he asked, "a map?"

"A map that keeps track of everyone in Hogwarts," he said, smiling at nostalgic memories. "Harry'll be able to use it to see where we are."

"…i'll still see if i can find them." And he tried to ignore the spark of paranoia that yelped at the fact that a map was tracking him.

Reaching out through the floors was still very much like looking through patterned glass, as enchantments refracted his senses. He'd scanned for the kids before, though, so he'd gotten somewhat used to it.

Plus, as always, Hermione's bright yellow SOUL shone like a clear beacon. Which was very useful in times like this, since she was almost always with the burnished orange and muddled red of Ron and Harry respectively.

Like right now, in fact, just down the hall.

So that was easy.

Sans frowned slightly, once more noting that weirdly dark splotchy-ness on Harry's SOUL. The feel of it reminded him vaguely of the black residue from those demon cloak things… but worse somehow. Now that he was seeing it from a bit closer, it looked almost—

"Well?" Sirius sounded like he was trying his best to be patient, and it just wasn't enough. "What're they up to? Are they on their way yet?"

Distracted from his distance-viewing (though it was not-so-distant, this time), Sans took a moment to refocus. "oh, i'm sure they'll be here soon." Then smiled, and timed his sentence: "while we wait, d'ya know any good—"

Two knocks at the door.

"—jokes." he finished. "who's there?"

"It's me, Harry."

Sans grinned. "'it's me, harry' who?"

This time it was Hermione who spoke up, though she unfortunately didn't finish the joke. "What?"

Oh well, he'd just have to handle it himself. "it's me, harry up and open the door!"

He was rewarded with a laugh from Sirius, a few muffled chuckles from the other side of the door, and one voice that sounded a little confused for a moment more before getting a muffled explanation from her friends. Lifting the blue magic he'd had keeping the door shut, the kids went ahead and pushed it open.

"Harry!" Sirius basically lit up at the sight of his godson, even if he still stayed clear of the door. No point risking some unexpected passerby catching a glimpse of him, after all, unlikely though that was. "Glad you found us, even despite Rattles dropping the ball on the arrangements."

"I thought he did that on purpose," Harry said. It may still be a little bit fragile around the edges—as if he still couldn't quite believe the man was real—but his smile back was just as bright. "So that nobody else would know where to find you."

"uhm, yeah." Sans nodded. "yes, it was definitely a thing done purposely and not at all just me forgetting basic stuff."

"What're you two doing in here, anyway?" asked Ron, taking in the artistic off-kilter rearrangement of the desks.

"déjà vu, apparently," Sans remarked to himself, thinking back to the first time Sirius had joined him while he practiced. The classroom then had been in true chaos, this time it was just messy. "studying."

Hermione looked skeptical. "Studying what?"

He swish and flicked his bone wand toward the nearest chair. "wingar-"

Not even getting a chance to finish the word, Sans quickly switched to blue magic and caught the chair before it could slam full-force into the ceiling. Two weeks of practice had improved a lot of things—he was better at casting spells only when he fully meant to, for one—but wand motion plus incantation was still a bit much.

For some reason.

His working theory was that incantation and hand movement were like globs of paint added onto the spell; his wand was his brush (broad-strokes paint roller, in this case), and he could handle it more precisely with a smaller amount of paint. Add too much and things get, well… messy.

The trio all stared at him and the suspended furniture, gobsmacked.

"Anyway," Sirius called for attention, "it's good to see you all in full color!"

"It's good to see you on two legs," Harry retorted with a grin.

"Have to stay in practice, you know."

As everyone got settled down, pulling over chairs and generally making a space for themselves, Hermione very pointedly set a small rattly box right on the center of the desk they had gathered beside.

"Oh no, not this again," muttered Ron.

Looking at the box curiously, Sirius couldn't help but ask, "What's that?"

With a proud smile, Hermione lifted the lid to reveal over forty colorful badges. She even had a red one pinned to her clothes. All of them appeared to have the same word—acronym, rather—printed on the front.

"Oh. Does that…" The wizard squinted at the lettering on the badges in the box, as well as the one she had pinned to her robes, "Do they all say 'spew'?"

Ron groaned. "Oh, don't get her started…"

"It's S-P-E-W, actually," Hermione corrected. "The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. I… er, We want to change the current mistreatment of house-elves."

With a glance to Sirius, who just grimaced slightly, Sans asked, "so, house-elves… that's what kreacher is, right?"

Eyes widening, she gaped at him: "Sirius, you— you have a house-elf?"

Her voice got pretty shrill at the end, and Sans was very glad he'd set up the same blue-magic-based sound proofing on the room as before: the whole castle would have heard that otherwise.

Sirius nodded, looking a bit confused and worried by where the conversation had suddenly veered (even if it was partly his own fault). "Kreacher's served the Black family for, hmm… Well, he's been around since before I was born, so a really long time."

Harry looked suddenly very uncomfortable, clearly able to see where this was headed but unable to do anything about it.

Hermione sounded positively incredulous. "How can you support enslaving people for their entire life?"

"Enslaving?!" Sirius looked kind of like he'd just been slapped. "I didn't… He's not… Kreacher's a house-elf, he's a fanatic about cleaning and stuff—"

Cutting in before she could, Sans asked, "aren't house-elves big on the whole servitude thing? it's weird, but…"

"They've been living like that for centuries," she said hotly. "What if they can't even imagine a better life for themselves?"

Sans blinked. "that's a kinda… rude assumption."

"What?"

"well, i can't say for sure they don't want things to change from… uh, whatever it is right now," he began, choosing his words carefully, "but their culture could just be very different from yours."

Just look at the woshua monsters, he thought to himself. They're basically washing machines, and everything they want in life revolves around cleaning stuff. Sans couldn't really understand that urge, but if they wanted to wash his slippers whenever they spotted him, he saw no reason to stop them.

Plainly digging in her metaphorical heels as she braced to defend her side, Hermione got a very stubborn look on her face.

"i'm not telling you not to do this campaign thing," he said. At that, there was a disappointed sigh—probably Ron. "just… maybe talk to them about it first?"

"But…"

Sirius nodded, having taken a chance to think things over while Sans presented his little argument. "It would be good to have more regulations, but the house-elves should have some say. Otherwise you might be the one forcing them into something they didn't want at all."

She scowled, but her eyes did widen just a touch; she hadn't thought of it like that.

"still, are you actually calling your humanitarian…" Sans paused, then corrected: "or, your elf-anitarian movement spew?"

"It's not spew. It's S-P-E-W," she insisted again, pronouncing each letter separately.

Ron snorted, earning himself a sharp glare.

"people are gonna call it spew." Still in shock that somebody could be so blind to the wonders of twisting around words into jokes, Sans shook his head. "you gotta consider those things, kid. especially if you want to be taken seriously."

Not that the wizarding world had a great record on that front, but still.

"Kid?" Harry muttered.

"if people can make it an insult, they will." Sans continued on, before there could be further remarks on that slip-up. Not that it was much of one, given that everyone in the room already knew him as a secretive weirdo. "especially if they're against the idea in the first place." He scoffed. "spew."

"S-P-E-W!" she repeated with a huff. "What would you call it then?"

Before he could get a chance, Sirius suggested, "How about S-P-E-L-L: Society for the Promotion of Elfish Life and Liberty?"

Harry nodded—his expression was that of someone who didn't really know whose side to take on the matter of elfish rights, but at least he knew that calling it 'spew' was silly. Of course, Hermione still looked a little miffed at the prospect of changing the name.

"or s-p-a-r-e," Sans added, after a second. "society promoting the advancement of rights for elves."

"People Interested in Elfish, uh, Support?" chimed in Ron, whose half-joke was still surprisingly useable.

At least compared to spew.

After looking between them all for a long moment, plainly wavering, Hermione glanced at her badge. "I… I'll think about it. Maybe."

"that's all i'd ask for."

Harry seemed to relax, as if a storm had just passed through without zapping him. As for Ron, though he still looked unconvinced by the whole spew (S.P.E.W.) idea, he at least decided to stay quiet for now.

Sirius returned his attention to the blackboard, getting back to the reason for meeting up in the first place. Spinning it so the notes on the other side were visible, he looked over to Sans and the trio with the put-upon air of a snobbish professor.

Time to get down to business.

"Now then, class, let's refocus." He flicked his wand to the chalk sketch, treating it like the most overqualified pointer ever. "What can you tell me about this?"

Ron tilted his head to one side, then the other. "Uh, is it… a teapot?"

"Close enough!" Sirius quickly added a few more details—mostly curly lines that only resembled fire if you really squinted. "This is the Goblet of Fire, and it's what'll be choosing the champions for the Triwizard Tournament."

"old magic, and it's literally on fire," Sans chipped in. "burn a name on a bit of paper to enter them for a chance to compete."

Hermione settled the lid back on her box of badges. "What does this have to do with us? We're all too young to put our names in."

"yes," Sans said, finishing with precise emphasis, "you are."

Ron figured it out first. "Wait, are you saying… you don't need to put in your own name? You could put in someone else's?"

"yep."

"I'm not going to say how we got this info." Sirius drew a small rectangle in the doodled goblet, and carefully added the initials 'HP'. "The important thing is, we have reason to suspect somebody's going to put Harry's name in."

Harry swallowed drily; he had been hoping this would be a peaceful school year, for once. "Voldemort."

"one of his goons, technically."

Taking the two steps over to his godson, Sirius rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Then he somewhat ruined the effect by adding: "But here's where it gets tricky."

"see, vuldy-whatsit's somehow gonna use the fact that you're in the tournament to bring himself back to life." Sans shook his head. "rude jerk. if you're dead, you should stay that way."

With a worried glance to her friend, Hermione asked, "All we need to do is keep Harry's name from being put in the goblet, right?"

"Well, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"we have something vaguely resembling a plan."

Sirius straightened, and flicked his wand to the chalkboard. With a thunk, the board flipped to reveal a pie chart of steadily decreasing sections beside what was probably supposed to be a drawing of Voldemort.

"Is that—"

"yes, paddy-paws is an artistic genius."

"Thank you," Sirius said, with a sweeping bow. "But that's not really the point. The point is that You-Know-Who has got a bunch of anchors to life, and we need to get all of them."

Harry didn't know how that was the conclusion of a pie chart and a doodle, but he nodded along anyway. "What do you mean 'anchors'?"

"basically, voldie chopped up his SOUL so he could come back if he died." Pointing to the blackboard, he added, "split whatever he had left in half for each anchor, but we don't know how many times he did it."

Sirius drew some unneeded arrows pointing toward the different segments of the pie chart. "Which is a problem, obviously."

"yep again."

"If you miss even one…" Hermione shivered.

"Yeah, that's the trickiness." He took a deep breath, and finished, "But if we let him come back, Sans can figure out how many anchors he has." A pause, letting that sink in. "It's not a good choice—Merlin, it's not even a decent one, really. Might be the only one we have, though."

Sans resisted the urge to scowl at that; a different world, a different threat, and the best chance at victory still hinged on a child. This time, though, he could actually keep his long since shattered promise to Toriel.

He'd keep Harry safe.

"You mean…" Ron took a breath, trying to think past the disgust and fear from the thought of shearing a soul in half. "Your plan, it's like… a reverse Wronski Feint. Pretend to be caught, go along with it, right until the last moment." He glanced to his best friend. "Then shoot off after the snitch, with all the speed from the dive."

"I'd need to go along with it first though," Harry agreed, and he couldn't help but think of the grim consequences of not pulling up fast enough.

Watching his godson think it over, Sirius set down the chalk with a sigh. "To be honest, I'd rather you not be in the tournament at all. It's dangerous. And you're just a kid, you shouldn't need to deal with that."

"but a danger we know is coming might be safer than anything else."

He agreed, though still a bit reluctantly. "And Harry, you don't need to decide right now whether you—"

"I'll do it."

"Harry—" started Hermione and Ron both, more than a little alarmed.

"are you sure?"

"I mean, not really. But if you have an idea of what they might be planning…" Harry drifted off, trying to find the right words. "With chess, sometimes it's like Ron already knows what I'm trying to do." He smiled. "That's hard to win against."

For the compliment, Ron punched him on the shoulder.

"Students," Sirius said sternly, re-adopting the professor persona. "No roughhousing in class." Then he smiled, proud and worried all at once. "In all seriousness, though, if we're doing this—"

"we all need to know the plan," Sans cut in.

"Precisely. Though I make no promises on how long it'll be able to last without massive revisions." A wave of his wand cleared the board, and Sirius handed out what few bits of chalk he had. "Let's get this meeting started."

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

Welcome to 2020! Here's hoping we make it a great year, everyone.
Happy New Year! And Joyous Whatever-Other-Holidays-You-May-Have-Celebrated!

In this chapter, it was finally time to lay out some plans and get some things sorted out.

Note, I still think Hermione's acronym is wack—I mean, spew?—but as it turns out, she might have been modeling it off the Society for Promoting the Employment of Women. The fact that an actual real-life group went with the acronym SPEW just boggles the mind.

What acronym would you use instead of S.P.E.W.?

Updates on the first of the month.
(Still technically before midnight right as I post this, I'm in the clear!)
Thanks for all the favorites, follows, reviews, and just taking the time to read this!

Join the Discord if you're interested! Invite code: m3CFXnC

See ya on the flipside, everyone!