Chapter Text
“To think Professor Sharp would be otherwise preoccupied.” I sighed melancholically, shaking my head in unspeakable sorrow. “Though detention is far from exciting, it is only the appropriate course of action given our misdemeanours. Surely, a chance to repent should be grasped immediately, and we should put the best of our efforts into cleaning the Potions Classroom.”
The portraits in the hallway shooting off the Central Hall homed in on me as I crossed through the door, looking like they were about to scold me to the depths of the Earth. Only, when they heard my words, their words caught in their mouths, as if they had swallowed a fly.
One particular grey-haired Potioneer had a very ugly expression at first, but my words made it ease drastically. Placing his hands behind him, he peered down at me and Sebastian like a proud grandfather.
His gaze read: “There’s still hope for the younger generation.”
Immediately realizing my intentions, Sebastian happily co-operated.
“Indeed.” Sebastian spoke loudly and clearly, his face full of grievances. “I know my mistakes, but can’t even seize the opportunity to make up for them. We’ve let Professor Sharp down. Aiya~, I feel so ashamed.”
Our audience seemed very convinced by our act, much to their chagrin. Our apologetic monologue was much less entertaining than the fortuity that they were allowed to sling insults our way – not few sighed, before walking out of their frames to go find more interesting activities to occupy themselves with.
That said, a select number of them were very gladdened to see our contrition, and watched on as we continued our Shakespeare-worthy two-man scene.
“I suppose it can’t be helped…” I held back my snigger and matched his aggrieved expression as we strolled past the portraits, looking like sinners at confession. “We can only put our utmost into detention during the next few days when Professor Sharp comes back.”
“Hmm, should we ask Professor Sharp for a one-day extension for detention, in case it slips his mind?”
Don’t go too far, Sebastian.
“Of course, it’s only right.” I was the poster child for chivalry, puffing out my chest with a noble countenance. “Poppy volunteered to stay behind and await his return, and we should be notified if he comes back. Alas, he also issued that twelve-inch remedial essay, so we should go to the Library and devote ourselves to it. Really, no better way to spend a Saturday.”
We passed the perilous strait of portraiture, and emerged on the other end unscathed, miraculously. With any luck, should Professor Sharp return, the portraits would sing praises of our work ethic, and say that we had gone to complete the essay in his absence.
I deflated with a hunched back, before letting out the snort I had been holding back.
“Penitence isn’t a good look on you, Sebastian.”
“Every look is a good look on me.” He rebutted, before poking his tongue out at the portraits when he was sure they couldn’t see him. “Tell me, how was my acting?”
“Only those ignoramus dullards with brains full of ink would believe it.”
The Central Hall was the intersection of three of the most important places on Hogwarts grounds – the Library, Potions Classroom and Greenhouses. Its size rivalled the Great Hall, as did it’s décor, though in dissimilar ways. The Great Hall’s main attraction was its Milky Way of Candles, whereas the Central Hall was laden with luxuries at every turn.
Ornate balustrades lined the several staircases, and tapestries, murals and other artworks were many apiece.
Above the Library, one such mural, depicting a granite-etched Hungarian Horntail, lazed lackadaisically on its mantle, occasionally puffing a breath of stone smoke. Centrepiece of the entire hall was the fountain, with mermaids swimming merry circles around a group of trolls, who held up a platform on which a prancing unicorn and werewolf battled.
Students, especially on a Saturday, swarmed the Central Hall.
“Wait here for a moment.” I encouraged Sebastian. “Haste makes waste. If we’re lucky, we can spot someone of use to our search.”
“Whatever you say, detective.”
Deputy Headmistress Matilda Weasley’s introduction of the Central Hall was the most accurate interpretation of its importance – always something happening, the heart of the hive that was Hogwarts, like Kings-Cross Station.
Similarly, like the station, it was the stopover for most destinations in Hogwarts.
You could reach most places from it quickly, meaning that it was perpetually filled with criss-crossing students on their way to over yonder. For the purposes of our investigation, this was extremely beneficial, as it meant we could stake it out for either Tameeka or another Hufflepuff.
Sebastian and I walked over to the fountain, where a gaggle of fifth-year students were attempting to squawk over the noise of the Central Hall.
“Huh, I thought you two were serving detention with Sharp?”
One of the Slytherin girls immediately recognized our presence, looking at us with interest. Evidently, she had heard some of the more colourful rumours that surrounded me and Sebastian, as illustrated by her gossipy gaze as it flittered between us.
“Professor Sharp posted a notice on the door saying detention is postponed.” I explained, before turning to one of the Hufflepuff boys. “Have you seen Tameeka anywhere? I was looking for her. Part of the notice asked us to find her, and get her to go to Sharp to reimburse him for the Ashwinder Eggs she used yesterday.”
His name was Zacharias Crawshore, and was a relatively tall boy with no discernible features, save a toothy grin and flaxen brown fringe. Usually unassuming, his only impression in my mind was his humble achievements in the field of Quidditch, though he loved the sport as much as the next Hogwarts student.
Or rather, he had someone he wanted to impress.
“Tameeka?” The boy hummed. “Saw her at the Great Hall, but haven’t seen her since. She was talking to Lenora Everleigh.”
“That’d be right.” The Slytherin girl snorted. “Birds of a feather. Both barmy, I tell you.”
“Don’t say that.” Zacharias sighed. “Tameeka may be daft, but she’s at least quite normal.”
Well, what about Lenora then? Care to speak your mind?
My gaze flickered to Sebastian, and he gave me a small, resigned smile. It’s better not to ask.
“Can you remember anything else?” Sebastian asked Zacharias. “I really don’t want to go on a wild goose chase looking for Tameeka. Any piece of information is alright.”
Zacharias frowned, trying his best to remember.
“I think I saw her talk to Sacharissa this morning.”
“Rissa?” The Slytherin girl hummed. “Probably about that potions shop again. Thirty-Fourth and Vine? I’ve heard about it so much that my ears have grown callouses. Then again, at least Tameeka knows what’s good for her if she took Sacharissa’s advice to go buy a beauty potion. Unlike you.”
“I don’t think even a beauty potion can save me at this point.” Zacharias smiled wryly. “Imelda still refuses to talk to me, and I catch her glaring every now and again. Seriously, when I said she was outspoken in that love letter, I meant it as a compliment.”
“I tried to put in a good word for you, I really did.”
The conversation derailed from there, with the Slytherin girl comforting Zacharias as he spiralled into lovelorn depression. She pat him on the shoulder, and preceded to inform him of her recent information at to Imelda’s likes and dislikes.
Looking at Sebastian, I was about to suggest we start with going to Thirty-Fourth and Vine, before someone else caught my attention.
“Lenora!”
She had a library book tucked underneath her arms, no doubt on her way to return it to Madame Scribner before the woman reigned the Trumpets of Armageddon down on her. Scribner’s loud bellow made mandrakes seem like soft-spoken poets.
“Can I help you?”
Lenora smiled back at me as I jogged up to her, Sebastian on my heel.
Lenora Everleigh was a very plain girl in every sense of the word, with no outstanding features, both personality and looks. Other than a mild-temper and inquisitive nature, she was relegated to being a background character within the fifth-year. Even the people that considered her strange usually forgot her name, lacking the means to associate this assumption to her face.
As such, it was a small consolation that she escaped any and all bullying by her peers, though the price was to live as a wallflower.
“You can, actually. I heard you talked to Tameeka in the Great Hall this morning at breakfast, and was wondering if you have any idea where she’s headed today?”
“Tameeka?” Lenora nodded. “She’s off to Hogsmeade apparently, don’t know what for. You should be able to catch her there if you’re fast enough.”
“Thank you so much!”
Smiling at her, I waved goodbye and moved up the staircases with Sebastian to the tapestry of the lute-playing wizard. The soulful strumming was lost on me. I had not a single musical bone in my body. That said, his gracious disguising of our hushed conversation earned my applause.
“So, Hogsmeade then?”
“Yes, Hogsmeade.”
I nodded, and Sebastian and I walked over to the Floo Network, taking a fistful of Floo Powder from our reservoirs and throwing it into the fireplace. I was the first to emerge in Hogsmeade, with Sebastian following shortly after me.
“So, what now? Do we just keep on going between the stores, starting with Thirty-Fourth and Vine?”
“Sure. Even if we split up, we won’t be able to cover all the stores in the time it takes to purchase one item. We don’t know what Tameeka is here for, aside from the possibility of beauty potions, and I don’t like leaving things up to chance.”
“Agreed.” Sebastian nodded. “I still think this Madame Ruth is quite suspicious – it seems all too coincidental that she comes to Hogsmeade during this whole love potion fiasco.”
“Let’s go then, time waits for no one.”
Hogsmeade was well-renowned for its reputation is a commercial business district, being the centre of activity in the surrounding Scottish Highlands. The shops were clustered around the bustling Hosgsmeade Square, aside from a select few placed off the beaten path. It caused many people to overlook the fact that, at its heart, it was just another residential area.
Thirty-Fourth and Vine was exactly one of these residential buildings, unenthusiastically renovated to resemble a storefront – a stilted blackboard displaying a welcome message, and a placard nailed above the doorframe that read the name of the shop.
Thirty-Fourth and Vine: One-Stop Shop For Foul And Fair
“Madame Ruth couldn’t have thought of a kinder name?”
“A bit on the nose, I concur.”
Entering through the door, the first thing we saw was Madame Ruth herself.
She was a haggard old lady with wiry, shoulder-length grey hair, swaddled in an inefficiently tied rose-embroidered headscarf. Madame Ruth had bushy eyebrows that weighed heavily on prominent crows-feet, creating a hulking frame around her cataract-obscured hazel eyes.
When she saw us walk through the door, she gave a crooked smile, revealing a single gold-capped tooth that shone amongst a set of decayed molars.
“Welcome, welcome!”
Her deep, hoarse voice jumped up and down with a jarring grate, and she shuffled over to the two of us, dragging us with strength unbefitting a granny to her front counter.
The inside of the house had been stripped bare of any qualities needed for domestic living, with the kitchen, bedroom and living room having been transformed into various potioneering amenities. The kitchen became the potion station, the bedroom the storage room, and the main room the stocked shelves of beauty potions.
“Hello, we were wondering if you’ve seen –“
“Say no more, I’ve already expected your arrival. Sacharissa told me you’d be coming, my dear.” At that thought, Madame Ruth’s face became slightly strange. “Well, I’m not one to judge anyways, though preparing the potion was quite the ordeal. I see you’ve brought a friend.”
She looked at me kindredly, and it jogged my memory.
Right, the potion.
While I fumbled in the pockets of my robes for the slip Sacharissa had given me, Madame Ruth reached over from behind the counter, her hunchback figure displaying remarkable range of motion. She latched onto Sebastian’s forearm, bringing it to rest on the tacky, floral cloth draped over the bench.
“Sallow, is it? I’ve heard that you’re atrociously unlucky with the opposite sex. I’m talking borderline undatable, a lifelong bachelor, forever single, flop with chics, love life as dry as the Sahara –“
Sebastian’s face plummeted into an expression as black as the bottom of a cauldron.
I found the receipt.
Product code #L-9-1.4, down-payment given of one galleon. Withstanding fees of twenty sickles to be deposited at Thirty-Fourth and Vine to shop owner Madame Ruth.
Signed: Sacharissa Tugwood
“- Ahem!” Madame Ruth coughed. “Anyways, I have exactly what you’re looking for.”
She deftly seized the receipt from my hand as soon as I pulled it out. Sebastian looked questioningly my way, but I really wasn’t that much better informed. While Sacharissa had given me the receipt, I wasn’t exactly fluent in product codes.
Still, I kept my word.
Pulling out an extra twenty sickles, I placed them in the freckled hand of Madame Ruth, who tucked them away in her till like a bandit.
“Good thing your friend is generous enough to pay for you.”
Madame Ruth chuckled gleefully, before reaching underneath the counter to peruse through what was no doubt some reserved orders. She found the one belonging to me, and brought it up onto a counter. It was relatively unremarkable, clear in colour and seemed quite… lubricative?
“Product #L-9-1.4, the Wand Extension Potion!”
Sebastian looked at me. I’m going to punch her.
Made Ruth was too concerned with securing her deal that she failed to realize Sebastian was contemplating dealing her a knuckle sandwich. She spoke flamboyantly – immature, high-pitched and overly animated. She fired off words in a fast and exaggerated manner, using lots of gestures and facial expressions to emphasize her points.
“Just a single coat of that bad boy, dallop it on with a spoon or brush. Apply a generous lather, and just watch the magic happen – takes your spell craft to previously unattainable heights! One hundred percent safe, zero side-effects!”
“We’ll take it!” I shout, and Sebastian looked at me speechlessly.
“Brilliant!” ‘Madame Ruth’ shouts back.
It was an adolescent young man’s voice, stained with that all-too-familiar British accent. It slipped from his throat before he could catch himself, and the room went completely silent, Sebastian gawking at him.
I smiled. “Can we have a nice chat now, Garreth?”
“Ahem. Garreth, who’s that? Ah, Garreth Weasley? Strapping young lad that one, absolute hit with the ladies. No reason for him to be in my humble abode. No, not here. No sir.”
Sebastian flips over his palm, scrunching it into a fist and bringing it down on Garreth’s twisted magic sign, his fingers tangling together in a tumble-weed like mass.
“Violence is not the answer! Violence is not the answer!”
“Aging Potion, right?”
The Aging Potion was among one of the more eccentric beauty potions, and had extremely high requirements of the potioneer. It could, for a time, allow you to mimic the appearance of yourself in old age, though exactly why that fell under the banner of ‘beauty’ eluded me.
“I don’t understand what you’re say-“
“Cut the crap, Garreth.”
“Alright, alright. Yes, it’s an Aging Potion. Stroke of genius, don’t you think?” Garreth grinned, opening his arms in a flamboyant display of cockiness. “No one has ever suspected a thing. Well, except you. Tell me, how exactly did you figure it out?”
Duration wise, the recipe of the potion changed depending on how long you wanted the effects to last. It was also a potion that could have long-term side effects depending on the quality – lower quality Aging Potions would leave you with grey hairs and saggy skin.
It was why no one would suspect that Garreth was using the Aging Potion to assume the alter ego of Madame Ruth.
In the entire Hogwarts, I had no doubt that the only people capable of consistently brewing an Aging Potion of Perfect Success level was Professor Sharp himself, and Sacharissa Tugwood. Taking that into consideration, people’s first guess would certainly not be potion-based deceit.
Only, it had a flaw – it couldn’t change mannerisms, vernacular or speech.
“A trip to the Hospital Wing with Sacharissa Tugwood. A sudden increase in love potion scandals at Hogwarts. A predisposition to suspicious liquids.” I listed the reasons off on my fingers. “Not to mention the sorry attempt at changing your voice, and the fact I can compare your looks to your younger self with ease.”
His tone was brash and boastful, with a touch of arrogance that suggests he thinks very highly of himself. He also used slang and other informal language, as he tried his best to sound much more trend-aware than he really was.
Overall, his voice sounded attention-seeking. At times, his tone might come across as irritating or even obnoxious, but it is clear that he is trying to project confidence and bravado.
“I admit defeat. Tell me, what are you here for? Not ratting me out to Aunt for house points, are you?” Garreth threw up his hands pleadingly, trying his best to feign an ingratiating smile. “Took me forever to forge that Potion-Making License, you know. I kept telling them it was Madame Reth, but I digress. I’ve grown quite attached to this Madame Ruth identity.”
“If you weren’t tardy on Friday, you would know. First, I’ve got to ask, is this conspiracy to do with the recent love potions scandals? You’re and Sacharissa are the ones producing and selling them?”
“That’s me!” Garreth grinned. “Would you like an autograph?”
“You’re that willing to risk expulsion?”
“Expulsion? It’s not that serious, is it?” Garreth looked puzzled. “I’ll say it now, we were only responsible for the newly invented potions. If we didn’t, how long would it be before our business model was copied and we were squeezed out of the market? Probably over half the potions in circulation at the moment aren’t from us.”
“So, it’s not you selling the Amortentia?”
“Ah, the Amortentia. You know I was in the Hospital Wing, right? Professor Sharp came to visit me and Rissa, and told us about brewing the Amortentia. We only had a couple hours before you made yours to cook up a few, hoping to sell them to our classmates that stuffed up.” He explained. ‘It’s the last batch of love potions we intend to sell.”
“Worried now that Professor Sharp and the prefects are onto you?”
Sebastian snickered.
“Huh?” Garreth paled slightly, before shaking his head. “Not my problem anymore, anyways. What, did you think Thirty-Fourth and Vine was going to buy itself? Love potions have high profit margins and would sell fast. Now that we’re set to take off in business, our involvement in the operation will be terminated.”
Between Sacharissa spending all her money on various cosmetics and garments, and Garreth having all his allowance taken away by his family before he blew up half of Scotland, I suppose they needed to get creative with how they were going to pull it off.
“So you still have some Amortentia? There was an incident in Potions class, and Sebastian’s Amortentia Potion came out looking worse for wear. We want to swap it with a complete one of Good Success level on the deadline.”
His expression quickly turned ugly.
“It’s not impossible to give you one, but supply equals demand, you know? It’ll be expensive.”
“How much?”
“Um, seven galleons?”
“Seven galleons?” I snorted. “Go rob Gringotts if you’ve the courage. Two, take it or leave it.”
“Two?!” Garreth bawked. “Who am I, Saint Nicholas? That barely even covers the price of the ingredients. You’re asking for the skin off my back!”
“If you’re unwilling, I’m sure that can be arranged.” Sebastian grinned mirthfully. “Say, if we do tell Deputy Principal Weasley about this, how long will it take before she has a new nephew-shaped fleece on the floor of her office?”
“Blackmail, Sebastian? Really?” Garreth shook his head. “Let me tell you, if my secret identity is revealed, and the whole of Hogwarts finds out I’m Madame Ruth, I might as well tell the lot of them that you two were here to buy some beauty potions of the exciting sort from me. I’ve got the receipt right here with me.”
“You –“
“That said.” Garreth drawled. “I do happen to have one in stock, and I wouldn’t be opposed to giving it away, no galleons needed. However, I have a condition.”
“Name it.” I said.
“Love Potion No. 9, the latest of our recent experiments. Well, I can’t launch it anymore considering Sharp and the prefects, as well as whitewashing my business name. That said, I can still apply for a patent and sell it when Rissa and I become full-fledged Potioneers.”
“So you want to use us as your test dummies?”
“Well… yes?”
“Have you tested the effects, like, at all? It isn’t going to make us drop dead on the spot, will it?”
“Of course not! Have some faith in my professional ethics, please. I used the last batch I brewed on a couple nifflers as test subjects. They just became more… drawn to eachother. Yes, that’s it. The further apart they got, the more uncomfortable. You know what they say, proximity is the precursor of affection!”
“Nifflers, great. Do Sebastian and I look like nifflers to you?”
“Me and Rissa also tested it ourselves. It’s what landed us in the Hospital Wing, but only for a couple hours before the effects wore off. Besides, that was just a rough draft. We’ve already made some revisions.”
“Oh, that really eases my mind.” Sebastian snorted.
“So we just have to be physically close to one another, and the more distance between us, the more uncomfortable we become?”
Looking over at Sebastian, I inquired with my gaze. You keen for some experiments?
“Well, it doesn’t sound too bad.” Sebastian nodded reluctantly.
“Exactly! So, are you going to take me up on my offer? Madame Ruth only offers the fairest trades in Hogsmeade.”
Yeah, Sebastian’s correct. It couldn’t be that bad, right?
“You have a deal, Garreth.”