Year Two - Chapter Nineteen
There was something cathartic in watching the school empty, and know that there wouldn't be any more petrifying accidents to be had. I cheerfully managed to make some quite nice rabbit-furred earmuffs, and scarfs, and render them permanent. There was something absolutely adorable in the way I had transfigured the earmuffs to look like rabbit ears, and have them twitch every now and then. It was a clearly intended effect.
"Professor," I said offhandedly, "Would it be possible to acquire Veritaserum, in a small enough quantity to practice its effects?"
The question was asked during potions' practice, with no one else in the room but us both. Professor Snape looked at me, and I looked back at him without a hint of remorse for having asked the question. "We do keep a small quantity of it in the faculty's office, Mister Umbrus," professor Snape remarked. "Though it is protected with some charms against theft."
I gave a small nod. "I see, well then my practicing would require me to brew some. Will we deal with it further in the curriculum?"
"By your NEWTS, I would presume," he answered. "It is quite a strenuous potion to brew, and requires a full month. Any single misshaping during the brewing and it will be tainted, rendering it ineffective, though not quite altering its appearance."
"I see," I mused. "Coincidentally, would Christmas gifts be delivered even if the wizard in question were not at Hogwarts?"
"That they would," professor Snape answered. His eyes seemed to glimmer with an unspoken promise. "Your purely theoretical interest will remain such, I hope, until your NEWTS."
"Of course professor," I answered as innocently as I could. "You know how us little Ravens are all a bit odd and sometimes quite mad too," I smiled. "You don't need to worry. I'm not a Gryffindor."
I waved him goodbye, and then hummed my way up to the Gryffindors' tower. I needed some help to get into the faculty office, some help that only people I utterly despised could provide me with. The portrait wouldn't open for me, nor would it relay my message inside, but I merely had to wait for a Gryffindor to come out, and then politely ask if they could tell me where the Weasley Twins were.
I found them, those terrible twins, skulking in shame in an empty classroom while throwing random stuff inside a cauldron.
"Good day, Weasley twins," I said as I stepped inside. "I have a business proposal for the likes of you."
"Gred," one said, "Forge," the one added. "This second year Ravenclaw pops out from nowhere, doesn't that make him look kind of shady?"
"My name's Shade," I said genuinely amused, "Shade the Shady Raven fits for a name, Gred and Forge."
They both shared a glance, "All right, you've got humor, but do you have balls?" one of the twins said, gesturing at the cauldron. "Throw something in, and if it doesn't explode, let's see what happens when we pour it on a desk."
I rolled my eyes at that, and proceeded to dump a vine that rested on a nearby desk into the mixture. The cauldron took a green hue, and then began to froth and foam. "Guess that was its critical point," the twins said, both rushing for the exit. I was already ahead of them, and thus we three all left the abandoned classroom behind us as an explosion rattled the windows and the walls of Hogwarts.
"All right, let's hear you," one of the twins said, coming to a halt in another empty classroom.
"I need a way past an anti-theft charm in the faculty's office," I said. I eyed them both. "I'm planning to steal something interesting from their cupboard."
"Pfft, that's all?" the other twin said. "It's easy-peasy, gnomish-squeazy." He grinned. "You just need to convince the object it never left the cupboard by putting it inside a smaller container before bringing it out. Then, you got to act quickly to avoid the tracking charm start."
"Yeah," the other twin said with a nod. "There are some pretty simple charms that can help with that, or even better, just break the object and then repair it later. The charms will disappear, and the Reparo is quite easy to learn."
I raised an eyebrow, "And if it's a potion?"
"Even easier! Just transfigure the glass to have a hole, and pour it in another container without touching the cap, or pulling it out of the cupboard," the first twin grinned, explaining it as if it was obvious. "That way you've solved the problem at its root."
"You are geniuses in disguise, the two of you," I said with a small nod. "Well then, Gred, Forge, thank you for your help."
Thus, I left them to their devises and stepped past the greenish foam that had invaded most of Hogwarts' hallways. On the positive side, the mint I had added to the cauldron had given the entire foam a bright verdant hue, and a pleasant smell which remained, weeks after the fact, all the way into Christmas' morning.
I yawned as I woke up happily content with my plan. I had infiltrated, stolen, and then promptly used the Veritaserum to gift Gilderoy Lockhart a set of very interesting objects. I had given him the sort of gifts a man like him wouldn't dare ignore, or refuse to at the very least glance at. He was a foppish, smiling man, and a dunce. He wouldn't refuse a letter written by the Order of Merlin's wizards, even when the corners were imbued with Veritaserum, and he clearly would take a sip out of a prime vintage which a famous wine maker had named after him. Rather, he would probably drink the whole bottle.
With such happy thoughts and a catchy, whistling tune in the back of my head, I glanced at my Christmas' gifts. Amanda had gifted me a Beater's bat. I would treasure the bat and use it to break someone's knees eventually, but probably it simply meant that she had the misfortune of thinking that I'd ever set foot on a Quidditch Pitch voluntarily. Wayne had gifted me a collection of Wizard Cards. Megan a nice book on simple potions. Professor McGonagall a pastry recipe book for scones and stuff like that. Professor Flitwick, a dueling book filled with notes.
Headmaster Dumbledore's gift was a pair of warm woolly socks filled with sherbet lemons both inside, and as a motif on the wool. Someone who hadn't signed himself had left me a small pouch of bezoars. I also had earned a subscription to the Quibbler, courtesy of Luna, and someone had sent me a muffler and a heartfelt thank you letter for ensuring their little girl didn't end up worse for being possessed by a cursed item. Hagrid, instead, had gifted me rock cakes. Rock cakes that actually were soft enough to eat. Rock cakes that actually tasted good.
A medal of honor to that man, yes, a medal of honor for he who learned how to make the pastries!
I sighed, dreading what would happen during Christmas' breakfast.
Still, these were quite the hefty amount of gifts. I hoped my own would be liked just as much.
Against my better judgment, I had given Amanda a floating sphere, similar to a bludger, but made of sponge. Hagrid and most of the school staff had received rabbit-ears-earmuffs, and since I knew Snape wouldn't like that, I had actually transfigured a mortar and pestle with the words 'N°1 Potions' Master of Hogwarts' on them both. Megan had received some bezoars -which I, myself, had liberated from the Potions' supply closet. Wayne had gotten a book of recipes on liquid chocolate and how to use magic to transfigure it into funny shapes.
Luna had received a bright glittering quill, because making simple quills into glitter required a very simple transfiguration spell, and if there was one thing that came to mind when thinking about Luna, then it was glitter.
That Christmas morning, rather than head immediately for the breakfast table, I made a small detour towards the lake's border. None of my usual friends were at Hogwarts for Christmas; they all had families to return to, and enjoy the holidays with. Thus, my only solace came from Fang, which I walked along the shores of the lake, and Squiddie.
"Merry Christmas, Squiddie!" I said, throwing a large chunk of bread in the direction of the water's ripples. In answer, the Giant Squid threw back a glinting pebble which landed on the shore.
It was a Galleon.
Who would have thought that the Giant Squid would act like those distant parents that, not knowing what one likes, resorted to money.
It was fine.
Money was the most appreciated gift in the heart of cynical people...
...and of those most in need.
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