As Harlequin took a seat across from Jem in the common room, she poured out the contents of the bag she held onto the table before her. Dozens of Galleons piled up between the two witches. “Did you rob Gringotts?” Jem asked.
“You would not believe what some people will pay for.” Hel snickered, as she started forming stacks with the coins. “Especially silly love-sick girls.”
Jem raised a questioning brow, “you’re not selling love potions are you?”
“Nothing so drole.” Hel returned, “ but somehow it got out that I’ve been on the Durmstrang ship.”
“Gee,” Jem smirked, “I wonder how that happened.”
Hel shrugged in reply, “anyway,” reaching within her robes, she pulled out a piece of parchment and flatted it across the table, “a map of the floor plans of that place,” the witch shook her head, “now that fetches a pretty penny.” She spun a Galleon between her fingers, allowing the coin to deftly dance across her knuckles.
“Speaking of said trip to the ship,” Jem began, “how did you not manage detention?”
“I think Professor Dumbledore decided an hour of playing Q and A with Professor Moody was punishment enough,” Hel returned, “though it did give me the idea for this most enterprising of endeavors.” A grin spread across her lips as she retrieved the map and tucked it back inside her robe. “Figured he wouldn’t be the only on that wanted the information. And, since I had it, I might as well use it.”
“So how much does a map of the Durmstrang ship go for?” Jem inquired seeing that Hel easily had 50 Galleons stacked up.
“Depends,” the other witch returned. “Those who can afford it pay more, those who can’t,” the witch shrugged slightly, “I’m willing to make some deals. But did manage to get two Galleons for a couple of them.”
Hel regarded the Galleons before her a moment, then looking up at Jem a grin spread across her features. “Two things.”
“Yes?”
“First, and feel free to take your time to consider it, so don’t answer just now.” Hel began. “I’ve heard there is going to be a Muggle Rave not too far from here. And that there are some Seven years providing Apparation for a small fee.” True to her nature, having told her not to answer, Hel didn’t give Jem a chance to speak, “second, I had to spend an hour in Professor Moody’s presence, and I think I deserve a bit of compensation. Want to help?”
“Help? How?” Jem furrowed her brow, wondering what her best friend was up to.
“I’m sure you noticed he’s always thumping around on that fake leg of his,” Hel began, “it’s actually quite annoying when it’s pretty much the only sound in the room.” Jem continued to look at her friend expectantly, waiting for the rest of Hel’s thought to emerge. “I say we kidnap it. Er, leg-nap it. Pilfer the bloody thing.”
“You want to take his leg?”
“Only for a little bit,” Hel returned, bouncing up and down slightly in her seat. “Maybe ransom it.”
Jem let out a laugh, “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”
“WooHoo!” Hel shouted, and in a quick motion had the Galleons gathered back up and stuff back into the bag. Grabbing Jem by the hand she hurried them towards the dorm, “just let me stash these, and get a couple things, and we can be on our way.”
* * * * * *
The two witches cautiously made their way up from the dungeons. The key to success was avoiding Filch and Mrs. Norris, which usually wasn’t too difficult, as Hel had learned long ago they seemed to keep to a schedule, of course, that schedule was occasionally disrupted by things like giant snakes and escaped convicts.
Peeking around a corner, Hel made sure no one was in the hallway, then motioned for Jem to follow her as they scurried quickly from shadow to shadow. “From what I’ve gathered,” Hel began in a whisper, “the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors have quarters beyond their offices.”
“And where did you gather this information?” Jem asked, as the two wound their way closer to the DADA room.
“When I snuck into Professor Lupin’s office one night,” Hel returned, “but he was out. Full moon and all,” she turned and made clawing motions in Jem’s direction, causing the other witch to have to stifle a giggle. “Okay,” Hel glanced around, “this should be it.” The two witches crouched down, Hel examining the lock.
“Shame that I won’t be here over the holidays to wreak further havoc with you,” Jasmine said, between half a sigh and a giggle. “I can’t believe…” She shook her head, cutting the sentence short.
“You were saying, Jem?” Hel glanced over from her work on the door.
In light of the letter she received—not from her father, but from Monty—it was pointless to keep any secrets, however trivial, from her best friend. “The reason I am not looking forward to going home for the holidays is because of my father’s git of an assistant, Monty Crouch. I didn’t tell you sooner because my father and brother seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal, but over the summer…” Jasmine’s face scrunched up in disgust, “he kissed me.”
“You be careful how close you get to that Montgomery Crouch,” an authoritative voice behind them caused both witches to jump. “Bartemius likes to believe he raised his boy up right, but even Mrs. Crouch knew that one was trouble.” As they turned the two were faced with Moody looking back down at them in their crouched positions. “Now, do you mind telling me what you two think you are up to?”
“Uh,” Hel returned, her mind spinning to come up with a logical explanation. “I’m sure it’s entirely not what it looks like, and…” She glanced over to Jem and back up at the man, “and Jem was totally trying to convince me whatever it was I was doing was not a good idea,” she nodded, hoping it was at least somewhat plausible.
“Miss LaCroix,” Moody began, “you would have me believe that you weren’t doing whatever it was you were doing, and that Miss Macnair was not acting as an accomplice, but trying to persuade you from whatever it was that you weren’t doing?”
“Yes?” Hel returned, “besides, you heard her, she was thoroughly traumatized over the summer. A tramatization that she is going to have to be reminded of over the long holiday vacation, instead of being safely tucked away here at Hogwarts.”
“Miss Macnair,” Moody turned his attention to the other witch, “were your exact words not ‘wreak further havoc with you,’ in regards to Miss LaCroix here?”
“They might have been,” Jem returned.
“Traumatized,” Hel returned, “practically assaulted, in her own home. You yourself said this Montgomery Crouch is trouble. It’s no wonder that she occasionally finds herself caught up in my shenanigans. It’s a cry for help, really.” Hel nodded her head, as if what she said had to be the absolute truth.
“Miss Macnair,” Moody began again, “in light of your apparent trauma over the summer, and as long as I do not catch you in such a precarious position again,” he glanced over at Hel, “which I find unlikely that I won’t,” again he shifted his attention between the witches, “consider this a warning. And do keep in mind my previous words of caution.”
“Yes sir,” Jem nodded, glancing over to Hel, who offered her friend up a small content smile.
“You on the other hand, Miss LaCroix,” he began once more, “I expect to see in my office at six o’clock next week.”
“The whole week?” Hel frowned slightly.
“Maybe we can ascertain whatit was you were or weren’t doing outside my office.”
“Yes sir,” Hel nodded.
“Now,” Moody growled, “the two of you get back to your common room before I change my mind.”
The two witches quickly hurried off, attempting not to giggle themselves into hysterics. |
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