Chapitre 3: 3
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and its world belong to J. K Rowling. I only own the original characters I made.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
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Author note
Hi. I added some dialogue at the end of chapter 2 which I encourage to read.
Sorry for the trouble.
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A green flash lit up the cozy brown walls of The Three Broomsticks. Rosemerta turned around and saw a familiar pair coming out of her Floo Network.
"How was the trip, Mrs. Thunberry?"
The middle-aged woman whisked the dust away with her wand from her and the disgruntled teen.
"Why couldn't they make something more people friendly?" Robert coughed.
After three days Robert Crow was finally released from the hospital. The healer prescribed drops for his eyes and cautioned against viewing any bright lights for at least a week.
"Hush, drama queen." Mrs. Thunberry patted the youth's back. "I asked if you wanted to use the Knight Bus."
"That death contraption?" He sat down at counter. "Four people landed at Mungo's because of that faulty piece of crap."
Yesterday, during one of its cruises one of the enchantments of the bus shut down; namely the one responsible for avoiding pedestrians. A horde of Obliviators and Aurors later the unfortunate chaps landed at St. Mungo's.
"A couple of bone replenishing potions and they'll be good as new." Thunberry replied. "And that muggle lady needed a hip replacement anyways."
"This is not a cartoon, lady." Robert rolled his eyes, much to the amusement of the customers.
"See? The lad finally grew some balls." Zach Wallace, the local woodsman chortled and patted his belly.
"I'd like a Butterbeer, Madam." The teen ordered a drink. He felt a need to cleanse his palette after those horrid potions he took.
"You'll get apple juice and you'll like it." Rosemerta replied. "Healer's orders."
"Bollocks." Robert said in a mock british accent. "Are fish and chips off the table as well?"
"Keep up the sass and you'll be lucky if you get a turnip." Rosemerta sniffed in response. However, her countenance softened slightly when she saw the boy with a genuine smile on his face.
After saying goodbye to Mrs. Thunberry Robert Crow returned to his room upstairs. The excitement of being released quickly wore off as he hit the bed facedown.
"I'm so tired."
"You should've stayed for a couple days." Zephyr said from his perch.
"I didn't like the attention." The teen groaned. "Thankfully I was able to turn the flickering off."
His eyes were a hit with the staff. Even the senior healer and to intervene and stop the constant room visits.
"Some of them wanted to adopt me." He added with a blush appearing behind his ears.
"At least children didn't want to pull your feathers out." The owl replied. "That blonde was too enthusiastic for her own good."
"Are you sure you're not a rare bird with healing powers?" Robert asked. "She was very vocal about them having the power of waking from the gates of despair.
"Maybe some leftover magic from the butterfly." Zephyr shrugged with his wings.
"The girl did feel familiar somehow." The teen mused. "A shame she bolted without saying her name."
"Otherwise I'd have known to whom to foot the bill. She took seven feathers that little minx."
"Anyway," Robert yawned, "I'm going to catch some Z's. Wake me up for dinner."
Spent from the first morning of freedom he quickly fell asleep. Zephyr watched the boy for some time before leaving through the window.
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"And what am I supposed to do with this?" Robert stood with a shovel and watched as Mrs. Harris was spraying his protective clothes with some kind of greenish potion.
"Rosie said you're looking for a job and close your mouth." She replied. "You wouldn't want any of it in your system."
Robert Crow reluctantly held in his annoyance. After a long week of boredom and staying at the inn he was finally allowed to leave the premises. What he didn't expect was getting a job right off the bat.
"You're quite the looker." Zephyr snickered on the fence. "A shame nobody can take a picture."
"I'll lace your treats with laxatives." The teen grinded his teeth.
"Do it." The owl hooted. "You'll get an early white Christmas present that way."
"Stop arguing with your owl." Mrs Harris admonished the pair. "Its incessant hooting is giving me a migraine."
A couple of days ago Robert Crow checked if other people could understand what Zephyr was saying. Nobody at the inn reacted to its constant stream of dad jokes and rather unflattering renditions of the Beatles. Unfortunately, the same couldnt be said about the teen who had to seal his ears with swabs of cotton.
Finished with the clothes the middle-aged woman took the teen towards the fields behind her house.
"You'll be paid for each bucket of those infernal Pixies." A cruel smile crept onto her face. "Body and wings go into separate buckets."
"Will I get a knife or should i just rip them off?"
The woman pointed towards the tool in his hand. "Those pesky blighters have rather strong bones. Chop it off with the shovel." She said the last words with laughter as she went back to her house.
Stunned the teen tried to wrap his head around the situation he was in.
"Its not that bad." Zephyr chimed in from the nearby scarecrow. "Just think about them as you would about chickens."
"But chickens don't scream in a childish voice." Robert scrutinized the shovel in his hand; the edges were blunted. "She's two parts dangerous and three parts insane."
"Here." A small knife landed next to Robert's feet. "I have good hearing youngster." The teen hearing her creepy laughter.
"Let's get this over with." With a heavy sigh he pulled the blade out of the ground.
Highland Pixies were annoying little creatures. Their greenish brown colors and less than 10 cm height made them very easy to miss if not careful. Fortunately in contrast with their bright blue cousins - Cornish Pixies, they weren't venomous. However, the highland ones on the other hand loved to cut their prey for sport.
"Blasted fiends." With a thud Robert Crow threw the corpse of a Pixie into the bucket.
"You should thank her for the potion." Zephyr knocked the living lights out of a Pixie he held in his claws. "For some reason they're not attacking me."
The pair found that out when an unexpected horde of twenty pixies flew by the owl and hadn't even acknowledged his presence.
"At least I know you'll be safe." Robert said while trying to cut off the wings. "Damn these buggers are tough."
"Think about it this way." With a crunch Zephyr took apart his prey. "A couple of hours of hard work and a moment of bliss from Honeydukes awaits you."
"That didn't sound reassuring at all!" Robert threw a bloodied limb towards the bird.
Zephyr dodged by flying into the sky and let out a mocking hoot. "Less whining Bobby and more elbow grease."
"I'll grease something alright." Robert's eyes flickered mischievously.
The pair hunted for Pixies with small breaks until dinner time. After taking a shower Robert sat down at the counter and thanked Rosemerta for the food.
"So you say Hogwarts menu is better then yours?" He sipped on the fragrant french onion soup. "I'll be the judge of that.
"Are you planning something?" Suspicion showed on Rosemerta's face. "Flattery doesn't work on me kid."
"Your words wound me, Madam."
"And drop the British accent." She knocked playfully on his head. "Did Melinda give you any trouble?"
"Other then her off-putting laughter? Then no, she didn't." Hopefully her ears didn't extend here.
"She does the best pumpkin carvings for Halloween." Rosemerta remarked. "You'll see some of her works at Hogwarts."
"And a murderous animated snowman for the holidays?"
"You'll have to find out for yourself." Her wink made him shudder.
"What are the uses for Highland Pixies?" He asked. "Two galleons for three buckets is quite generous."
"They're a delicacy for some creatures. Mostly fire salamanders and reptilian species." She replied. "Wings on the other hand are mostly used in enchantments."
"Enchantments? What kind?"
"Powdered pixie wings have many uses in wards and other more miscellaneous constructs." Rosemerta leaned against the counter and whispered to the teen's ear. "Supposedly they use it in the new Nimbus 2000."
Robert whistled in awe. The basic model costs around 800 galleons. With Zephyr's help he earned about 9 galleons today and he was completely spent doing so.
"And now I feel used." He sighed.
"Please, you got that rate only because of me." She stopped him from continuing. "She'll barely make a profit after paying you."
"Is that so?" He didn't quite believe her.
"Unfortunately for us little people we can hardly make money from Highland Pixies. Domesticly its a highly regulated market." She sighed. "And the big bucks are earned mainly through export, because they only appear here in Scotland."
"Licenses, I presume are only for a select few?"
"The Vabsleys are the only dedicated wholesaler in Britain." She said with a grimace. "And we have to thank Dumbledore for establishing a minimum price. Otherwise they would've just plainly confiscated the goods."
"They wanted to go that far?" Robert was shocked by the vehement show of greed.
"A bucket can go for 24 galleons."
A ringing noise echoed in the inn as Robert's trembling hand dropped his spoon to the ground.
"So I was robbed out of 300 galleons!?" He shrieked.
"Sucks doesn't it." She gave the teen a new spoon. "And that's why its better not to ask questions."
"I'll make them cough up every single penny." A blue glint flashed in his eyes as he continued eating in silence.
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"Here's your share."
Robert caught the small bundle of money. After four days of intense work only the melodious jingling of gold could sooth his soul.
"You've picked up the pace. 20 buckets today; two more than yesterday." Mrs. Harris praised.
Robert Crow wiped off the sweat from his forehead with his sleave and glanced towards his work.
"It did feel like there was more of them." He offhandedly replied.
"More? That isn't good at all." The witch waved off the teen and entered her house deep in thought.
"At least she didn't berate me like yesterday." Robert struggled to keep himself straight while he walked uphill towards Hogsmeade.
"Did you notice something strange about their behavior?" Zephyr flew above the blond's head.
"Like what?" Robert leaned against the fence to take a break.
"They didn't hide as much." His partner replied. "And they were a little bit too aggressive."
"If you say so." Robert squinted his eyes as he looked towards the sunset. "It's nothing we can deal with anyway."
"That's also true."
The next day Robert woke up with a numbing headache. He tried massaging his temples but it was for naught. Peeved he visited Rosemerta downstairs and asked for a pain relieving potion.
"There's never a quiet day with you." The innkeeper summoned a cold compress and began. "The potion will be ready in 10 minutes."
"Hopefully its not a sunstroke." He hummed softly as the cold embraced his forehead. "I did the necessary precautions."
"Unless you were smoked by a dragon's fire you'll be fine." Rosemerta chuckled. "We're wizards after all."
"Magical sunstrokes aren't a thing?" He asked with a wry smile.
"Prat."
After a couple of minutes the potion was finally ready. A goblet of bubbling violet liquid was placed before the teen.
"It's not got a welcoming smell that's for sure." It reeked of old moss and a hint of mud.
"You'll get used to it."
With two gulps and a soured face the concoction entered his stomach. A addictive sense of bliss hit Robert Crow's head, giving him much needed respite.
"You're so good to me." Rosemerta and the nearby female customers giggled.
"And that's how they get you lad." The brutish voice of Barney reached their ears.
"He's going to be in a world of pain." Zephyr landed on the counter and helped himself to some walnuts.
Few jinxes later and the man was rubbing his hurting arms. "Will I get a potion?"
"Hmph. Brew it yourself." The women glared.
"As fun as that was," Robert streched his arms, "We'll need to leave in an hour."
"It's your last day of work isn't it?" Rosemerta asked.
"Yeah. After this weekend I'm heading straight to Hogwarts." He replied. "And I wanted to enjoy the rest of my stay here."
"You'll always be welcomed here."
"Even if I turn bad?" He asked with a smirk.
"Even more so." She flicked his head. "So I can straighten you out."
"Did I already say you're too good for me?"
"Maybe." She winked. "Never hurts to hear it again."
A sound of the doors slamming made the pair look towards the entrance. A huffing Mrs. Harris entered the pub.
"If you have time for flirting then you can get your buttocks ready for war." She hissed.
"What are you going on about Melinda?" Barney asked.
"The Pixies are here, buffoon. Lot's of them. The Fawns orchard is under attack."
"It can't be that bad." Mrs. Edwards chimed in.
"Hundreds of them are already heading towards us."
She wasn't kidding. Murmurs of buzzing and shrill laughter reached everyone's ears.
"Why can't I get a break?" Robert watched through the door as a swarm of Pixies was flying towards them.
An alarm rang throughout the town. Cautioning the town's people to close their windows and doors.
"Let's get this over with." Barney stood up and started firing cutting spells at the swarm.
Dozens of bodies started raining down towards the ground. Sickening screeches bellowed from the still living Pixies as they took the wizard as their new target.
"Rosie, be a dear and set this cauldron up." Melinda took out some ingredients amd handed them over to Rosemerta.
"And what's that supposed to be?" Robert Crow asked.
A murderous glee flashed in the witches pupils. "That's what we call bait."
Many wizards and witches joined the fight against the waves of pests. Cutting charms and occasional blasting charms were used against the seemingly never ending swarm.
Robert was holding his trusty shovel as the group from the Three Broomsticks was heading towards the town's square.
"Isn't this too dangerous?" The teen asked while looking at the levitating cauldron.
"Trust me sonny. This is the best thing we've got." Mrs. Harris whistled.
Not completely sold on the idea, Robert continued walking in silence. He sent Zephyr earlier to scout the swarms since they didn't mind his presence.
"Persistent little buggers." Barney chuckled. His eyes filled with battle frenzy.
"It's quite the workout." Brice the local blacksmith was cutting the Pixies with his levitating sickles.
"And we're here." Melinda placed the cauldren in the center of the square and took off its lid. A vile blackish red potion was resting inside. Its fumes had a hint of orange.
"What now?" Robert cringed as he thought he saw a skull forming from the fumes.
"And now we do this." She forcefully grabbed a Pixie from the air and tossed it into the cauldron.
With plop the creature fell into the liquid. It tried to escape; however, the viscosity of the potion held it back. With a final cry the pixie sank to the bottom.
Confused, Robert watched as the potion began to churn. After a couple of moments smoke broke out from the mixture. Black wisps formed a column in the sky.
"Prepare yourself sonny, you'll have work to do." Robert reached for the familiar knife in her hand.
Before he could ask her a question Zephyr landed on his shoulder.
"They're converging on us." The owl cautioned.
Thousands of dots began encircling the group. Robert's stomach squeezed from nervousness. He started questioning his life decisions as the swarm flew closer. Reading his shovel he waited for the impact, however it never came.
"What are they doing?" Robert Crow watched as the Pixies with zeal approached the rising pillar of smoke.
Swarms upon swarms cut through the trail of smoke. Judging by their cries they were really happy with what the witch had prepared.
Astonished he addressed Mrs Harris. "Did you really just make opium for Pixies?"
"Let's just say that this is going to be their last laugh."
The teen focused on the swarm once more. After a couple of seconds he heard small thuds against the cobblestone plaza; the Pixies started to fall to the ground.
"They're dead?" He touched the nearby unresponsive creature.
"It is a pesticide after all."
Robert sent her the stink eye. "All this secrecy for a bloody rat poison?"
"I'm allowed to have some entertainment." She sent a soul shuddering wink.
After the underwhelming reveal Robert Crow reluctantly started filling up the buckets.
The rain of pixies lasted for half an hour. With the threat minimized the town's people walked out of their homes and helped with the harvesting.
"Throw that at me one more time and you'll be sorry Duckett." A girl's voice reprimanded the boy, who was chucking Pixie limbs at her.
"Casey, leave those disgusting things alone." Her mother's voice reached the four playing children.
"But I want them to be new playmates for my doll."
"Harry Potter has better things to do then to play with corpses." She grabbed her daughter by her arm. "And he most certainly wouldn't want to hang out with someone splattered in blood."
"I think he'd have welcomed any type of attention with open hands." Robert whispered as he watched the children follow the woman inside her house.
"That's just sad." Zephyr remarked as he threw clipped wings of the creatures into a bucket.
"Beggars can't be choosers." The teen replied with melancholy. "We're not better off anyway."
"Maybe you," the owl jumped towards its next victim. "I'm not the trouble magnet."
"You've reached the limit for heartfelt words for this week or something?"
"Bah. I'm not going to cuddle you in your brooding state." Zephyr snickered. "Young adults have more spikes than a hedgehog."
"Then I'll have to hug you myself."
Robert laughed as the owl tried to escape his bloodied embrace.
"You dim-witted fool. It'll take hours to get clean!"
"And that's what I call payback." Robert said back with a toothy grin.
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