Chapter 50: Playing Ketchup

Transfiguration had just wrapped up, and Sans was stealthily tucking away a few bits of parchment accidentally turned metal-stiff during the wand work portion of class. While the lessons were always interesting, it was definitely posing something of a problem, given all the wand waving that had to happen.

Or at least, the class would pose something of a problem, once the professor shifted him off books and theories and made him actually try spells in class. Like she had done today.

And today… hadn't exactly gone well.

To be fair, it hadn't gone horribly either. He had spent some time toying with transfiguration during his out-of-class practices, after all: not as much time as charms—the ceiling could attest to that, after all of the furniture that had been smacked into it—but enough.

Or almost enough: his control of the spell had still been touch and go, at best.

Fortunately, this time he had managed not to alter the desk itself: paper was a lot easier to brush under the table, as it were, than the actual table itself.

Less fortunately, it would seem that his struggles had still been noticed.

If he could just scoot out the door fast enough—

"Mr. Skelton, may I have a word?"

Alas, his escape was thwarted.

Sans was fairly certain that he hadn't done anything too strange this class—or at least nothing too noticeably strange, when compared to his growing track record.

"uh, depends." He smiled, refusing to let any nerves show through to his more expressive glamoured face. "what word d'ya want? i'm partial to 'snorkel', myself."

Professor McGonagall didn't react to his awesome joke—what a shame—and instead simply continued to her point. "I'm sure you recall that I plan to help you gain more control or your spells, correct?"

"…yeah."

"I have had the chance to talk with your Head of House, as well as the headmaster, and we all agree that you would benefit from additional tutelage," McGonagall said. "Twice a week."

Sans was, expectedly, not very thrilled at the prospect. "really? i mean, i think i'm kinda getting the hang of some things, so—"

Her expression was stern, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Don't think I didn't notice that your attempts today had, shall we say, unintended side effects."

Oh, she's good. This could be even more problematic than he first thought.

"oops." He chuckled, though it was somewhat nervous.

"Quite."

"so, uhm…" Sans cleared his non-existent throat. "what does this whole extra classes stuff mean? do i have more homework?"

"Less, in a manner of speaking," Professor McGonagall replied. "You will have time during your usual class period to complete the bookwork, much like you have already been doing. We will go over spellwork more closely during our lesson."

"i really do appreciate the effort, but, uh…"

She gave him a level look. "There's no shame in needing a little extra help. And you'll certainly appreciate getting it now, rather than having to struggle through the rest of the year."

Okay, so she had a point.

The professor set a time for their first meeting—today, right after dinner—and then went back to her office. This evening was a little close-notice for such a high-risk operation, but there wasn't much he could do about it now.

He took his time gathering up the rest of his things, in no rush to continue with school, then stepped out of the classroom.

The door swung shut behind him.

Sirius was just trotting up to the classroom—meeting him after the lesson ended, as usual—and he gave a curious tilt of his head when he saw his friend's expression.

Setting off on the route to the Great Hall for lunch, Sans sighed. "more complications, that's all."

The golden retriever gave a small woof in question.

"can't a guy catch a break?" He shook his head. "i mean, yesterday with the nurse and today with the professor… what a pain."

Of course, Sirius, who had been off doing who-knows-what during that class period yesterday, hadn't known about the visit to the Hospital Wing. And while he could easily take a guess at what might have happened, he couldn't help but nag for details.

The disguised skeleton shrugged off the questions. "trust me, it's not a big deal."

'Doubt' wasn't an expression very well suited for canine features, but he managed.

"no, really."

There was a pause, then he barked twice.

"ugh, yes. it was about the food thing."

Sirius huffed a doggy chuckle, clearly taking amusement from his friend's predicament. He had been nagging him about eating more for months, after all.

"laugh it up, paddy," Sans quietly grumbled under his breath. "don't forget—if i'm suspicious, then so are you."

Nose stuck in the air, the golden retriever shot him a smug grin. That was a definite 'Still, I told you so', even if left unspoken.

"oh, stuff it."

At least someone was happy about this. Worried, too—but definitely entertained.

They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence.

The doorway to the Great Hall was still faintly rainbow, the vibrance from the weekend prank largely faded but definitely still there if one knew were to look. Or maybe how to look: Sans wasn't fully sure how much of the colors were visible in the non-magic spectrum at this point.

Either way, he was not going to touch that door until all traces of the spell had faded.

He had a prank-free record to maintain, after all.

But, before that…

"hey, cass."

Cassius walked over from where he had been waiting, glancing around to double check that nobody else was nearby. Then he gave the disguised skeleton a look.

"Sans."

"yeah, that's my name alright."

"I need to talk with you."

"i assumed so," Sans quipped, "given that you're talking with me."

While they would occasionally meet in the library or pass each other in the halls, the two of them really hadn't gotten together to chat since that first Saturday and their quick jaunt over to visit the Roberts family.

Inter-house politics really didn't seem to matter to anyone except the Slytherins—and maybe the Gryffindors, with regards to the snakes anyway.

One does not simply talk with students from other houses, apparently.

Cassius rolled his eyes, but there was a slight smile there. "How astute. But still, I… have some new questions for you."

"okay, ask away."

"Not here," he hissed, looking around again. "It's about a certain sequence of events I'm fairly sure neither of us want getting out."

That narrows things down: it had to be something to do with the Quidditch World Cup. Though as to what, exactly, Sans wasn't sure. Something must have come up.

"alright. we'll talk later, then."

"When?"

"just hang out in that classroom after dinner," Sans said, being purposefully vague. "i'll find you there after i'm done with… stuff."

While Cassius still looked unconvinced, he did eventually nod. "Fine." He sighed, and carded a hand through his hair. "Though I'm sure that 'stuff' will take you at least an hour or so."

"very likely."

"…I'll be sure to bring a book."

And that was that.

The Slytherin pushed open the door (gaining an invisible smattering of color on his hands) and headed immediately for the green table. Sans, however, paused.

"now then, where to sit?"

For most students, of course, the answer was simple: Ravenclaws sat at the blue table, Hufflepuffs at yellow, and so on. It wasn't a pattern often broken.

Until now, that is.

After Laura had joined him at the Ravenclaw table last week, their little group had taken to moving about from table to table. Naturally they sat with the blues quite often, as both he and Luna were of that number, but they did float over to Hufflepuff from time to time, and even branched out to red for a few meals.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't join them in their cross-House drifting, but they could usually find spots at their own table close enough to still join in with conversation. And whenever they chose the red table, the trio always made room for them.

Unbeknownst to his two companions, Sans had actually been eyeing the Slytherin table for a few days now. Cassius never seemed to sit with anyone, after all, and the chaos would be absolutely hilarious.

But he was technically still trying to blend in (though he hadn't been doing great on that front), so he refrained from joining the green table.

For now.

He spotted his fellow odd-ball Ravenclaw at the yellow table, Laura sitting next to her. And across from them, still standing and nervously shifting from foot to foot, was Neville.

"It's perfectly alright, Neville," Luna was saying, with her typical airy tone of voice. "We're friends, aren't we?"

He returned her smile, though a bit more hesitantly.

"i think there's room for one more," Sans piped up, startling Neville. From his spot half under the table, Sirius nodded approvingly.

So Neville sat down with them, and they all got to talking about random things: plants, homework, puns, life in general. It was nice.

Peaceful.

A few minutes later, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined in from their seats at the Gryffindor table directly across from them, things got a touch less peaceful. In a manner of speaking, anyway. The conversation was still lighthearted fun, but they made for a pretty rowdy crowd, split between two tables as they were.

Plus, all six of them seemed convinced that they needed to keep his plate stocked with food. Seven, if you counted Sirius too.

Sans was well aware that he really didn't eat much, even by skeleton standards.

But he really didn't need much.

He knew some monsters had to eat as frequently as humans—some even more often—but skeletons were not in that category. Bony monsters like himself really only needed to eat if they had recently expended quite a lot of energy.

And Sans was really lazy, and honestly, he had magic to spare.

So whenever somebody wasn't looking, he quickly sent off the bits of food with shortcuts. They went to a worthy cause, though, so he didn't feel too bad about it.

=X=X=X=

On the other side of the country, Remus had just settled down at his desk for his own lunch. It wasn't much—he had been in quite the rush this morning—but cheese and crackers would have to do for now.

Then, quite suddenly, half of a sandwich dropped onto his napkin.

"What the…?"

As he watched, appearing one by one, a small pile of vegetables dropped onto his plate.

"I don't know what this is all about," he murmured, poking at one of the bits of food, "but I'd bet that Sans is behind it."

As if to confirm, a piece of cauliflower popped in spinning like a top.

Remus just sighed.

=X=X=X=

As for the pill he was supposed to take, Sans had long since tossed them aside—tin and all.

In Grimmauld Place.

After all, there was no point risking the Hogwarts house-elves finding the pills in the rubbish and snitching to the nurse again.

As they talked and ate (or didn't eat, as the case may be), Sans let himself relax into to flow of conversation. He contributed the occasional pun or two, but mostly he just sat back and let them all chatter.

Which was perhaps why he was the first one to spot the approaching agitant: Draco Malfoy.

So… this promised to be interesting.

"Hello, Potter." Malfoy sneered, glancing to their little pod of blue, yellow, and red as if their presence was some great personal insult. "I see you have some new… friends. Finally got around to replacing your old ones?"

With no witty retort on-hand, Ron just yelped, "Hey!"

The Slytherin boy crossed his arms. "Oh, shame. Seems he's still here."

"I'm sure he's just jealous," Harry stage-whispered to Ron. "After all, he's not got friends, has he? He's just got a pair of lackeys."

"Better than surrounding myself with traitors and mudbloods."

That's kind of sad, he didn't even deny it.

Ron was half-standing before the sentence was even finished, hands balled into fists. "You shut your mouth, Malfoy!"

"Or what," he sneered. "You'll—"

"what a weird insult," Sans cut in, sounding thoughtful. He might not have been familiar with the phrase, but he could work out enough from the sharp tension.

"I suppose you must be a mudblood as well."

"actually, i'm pretty sure i don't have either of those things."

"What?"

Hermione, who had looked a few words away from following Ron's lead, was suddenly fighting down a smile. "Either?" she repeated. "I'd imagine you're just lacking the mud, Sans."

Having genuinely—and accidentally—meant both, Sans just grinned. "right, duh. of course i only meant the blood." He paused. "i mean, the mud."

Luna giggled.

Then, an idea struck.

He palmed one of the ketchup packets from his hoodie pocket—part of his emergency supply, but this would be worth it. The condiment was in his hand, but still carefully hidden under the layer of his glamour.

"but perhaps i should check?" Sans held up his hand, and nonchalantly snatched one of the knives from the table. "just to be sure, you know."

Man, he still really didn't like knives.

But this would be worth it.

"What—?"

And he stabbed himself.

Or rather, made a very convincing show of stabbing himself. The blade slipped straight between the metacarpal bones in his hand, without so much as tapping him with the sharp edge, and it cut only the hidden ketchup packet.

The red goo seeped out around the base of the knife, which made a very convincing mess so long as one didn't notice the very distinctive tomato smell.

Malfoy had gone white as a sheet, even paler than usual—which was really saying something. He took a step back, eyes pinned on the red mess in Sans's palm. "You're crazy!" His gaze flicked up, seeing Sans's amused grin, and he took several more steps backward. "You're crazy!"

The Slytherin spun, stumbled, and all but ran away in his scramble to get back to the safety of the green table on the other side of the room.

"Merlin's beard!" Neville looked about ready to faint, but he was also scrambling for a napkin to try and wrap up the supposed injury. "Sans, oh my goodness, are you alright? Oh, what am I saying, of course you're not—"

The disguised skeleton took the napkin from him, using it to wipe up the ketchup. "i'm fine. looks like i've got ketchup-blood, though." He grinned. "what a surprise."

On the other side of the table, Luna had a somewhat relieved smile. "Oh, yes, that does make sense."

Sans dodged any further questions by using the oldest trick in the book.

"How did you—?"

"welp, i gotta go." He stood up, dropping the cut ketchup packet on his mostly-empty plate. "see y'all later."

"Wait, but—"

And he walked away.

"works like a charm," he said, grinning.

Sirius snorted.

Of course, his genius 'just walk off' strategy only worked up until a point. But he did get a good ways into the halls before he was stopped, so he still counted it as a win.

"Did you see the looks on their faces?" asked one unfamiliar voice.

"Absolutely priceless," agreed another.

Sans shrugged as he turned around. "i do try my best."

Well then.

These must be the Weasley twins, Fred and George.

He had heard quite a bit about them and their infamous pranks: honestly, it would have been hard not to have heard of them. The pair would come up in conversations about once per day, and quite a bit more often if something peculiar had happened recently.

For example, lately some of the older Ravenclaws had been pitching ideas for how the twins may have snuck an enchanted sock into the dorm common room.

Sans decided to take that misplaced credit as a complement.

(Though, for the record, the sock wasn't magic at all. He was just very good at replacing it.)

"I'm George," greeted one of the twins. "And that's Fred."

"We saw your little trick with the knife."

"Truly top-tier!" George—or at least the twin who had introduced himself as such—had the biggest grin on his face. "Knife-ly done."

Fred smacked his brother on the shoulder.

"i'm glad it made the cut."

"Oh, I'm having second thoughts about this, George."

"This kid's pretty sharp, though."

"Stop."

Sans grinned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "anyway, what's up?"

Conspiratorial, George leaned a little closer. "It seems you have quite the talent for pranks."

"And we figure, well, it's always good for us troublemakers to stick together."

"sounds good to me. you two aren't too shabby yourselves," he remarked, gesturing back down the hallway toward the Great Hall and it's magically-colorful doorway. "when are you gonna set it off?"

"Set off what?" asked Fred, innocently.

"The door's basically back to normal by now," added George.

"sure it is."

There was a brief moment of silent communication between the twins—a quirked brow, a slight tilt of the head—and then they both grinned.

"Don't know how you spotted that."

"But don't go spreading it around, okay?"

Sans shrugged. "wasn't planning on it."

Beside him, Sirius was looking between the twins and his friend with mild confusion.

Fred suddenly glanced down at his wrist, and he tapped at the cuff of his shirt as if he were wearing a watch. "Oh! Well, we have to get to class now."

"Yeah… class…"

And then the pair employed the same great exit strategy Sans had used, and just walked away without another word.

"well, that's not suspicious at all."

Sirius gave him a deadpan look.

"point taken."

The rest of the day proceeded fairly smoothly, at least in comparison to the morning. Charms was the only class left—not counting his new evening lesson—and he managed to make it through without blinding anyone, launching anything, or otherwise disrupting the classroom.

Overall, a great success.

Dinner was boring, too, though watching Malfoy shoot the occasional glare his way was, admittedly, pretty amusing. As for eating, he stealthily sent off his food in bits, just as he had at lunch.

Remus was surprised, but admirably unfazed, when he opened the cabinet to get a dish and found nearly a full meal waiting for him. Some chicken, vegetables, spoonfuls of mashed potatoes: it was better than the bowl of cereal the wizard had been planning on.

Of course, after dinner, it was time for Sans to face the music.

So here he was, standing outside the transfiguration classroom. Not going in just yet, because he currently had an undesirable tagalong.

"no, you can't come in with me."

Feeling particularly argumentative, Sirius gave a small howl and a huff.

"let's be real, paddy," Sans said, shaking his head. "would you be more likely to help me lay low, or just laugh your butt off while everything goes sideways? 'cause let me tell ya, i'm not gonna need more distractions."

Sirius considered that for a moment, started to nod, the vehemently shook his head: likely imagining the no-doubt hilarious haywire-magic scenes he would miss by skipping out.

"look, you could, uhm—" He thought about it for a second, then decided to go with his best bet. "you can go hang out with harry or something, yeah?"

As it always seemed to do, that idea worked wonders.

After hesitating briefly, momentarily conflicted, the golden retriever finally turned and trotted away down the hall. Sans watched him leave, all the way until his tail vanished around the corner—making sure he actually left, definitely not stalling for time.

Then he turned back to the classroom door.

Alright.

Time to get this over with.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

Sans, you may have just traumatized that poor boy.

We've reached chapter 50 everyone! It may have taken nearly four years, and also we're not even that far into the actual book yet… but here we are!
Cheers!

Let's see, what's another good quarantine entertainment recommendation… Have you watched Detective Conan? Now that's an anime that could last you a good long while. It's one of my favorites, so maybe check it out if you're looking for something new to watch.
(Or something to re-watch. Either way.)

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