Chapter Text
Timothy Teasdale counted down the minutes until it was time to close the shop for the day. He tidied an already tidy rack of seed packets on the counter of The Magic Neep. It included a selection of commonly purchased seeds—dittany, knotgrass, mallowsweet, and so on. Students always needed those, so he kept them ready by the till. His shop was neat and well stocked.
Opening The Magic Neep had been a labour of love. After developing an interest in herbology at Hogwarts, he’d been an apprentice at a greenhouse in Dingwall, and then an employee. He’d saved every penny he could for years to afford the old building in Hogsmeade.
The building was in shambles, but Timothy had worked hard to make the necessary repairs. A section of the roof was altogether missing when he first came, and he’d replaced it with a greenhouse structure to let in light. It was a brilliant solution and one that allowed him to feature many of his favourite plants in what otherwise would’ve been a rather dark interior. He’d repaired it himself, all while setting up the business inside. He made a lodging in the small attic that consisted of a bedroom and a sitting room. It had been several years that the business had been up and running.
Hogsmeade was as charming as could be—he’d always loved it during his days as a student—and there was a steady customer base for his products. There was another plant shop, but thankfully, Ms. Beatrice Green specialised in a different sort of plants. All in all, he was satisfied with how things were coming along.
Timothy had just latched the door lock as he pondered his evening plans. There were strawberries ready for picking in the garden and book club later that evening. He would take extra strawberries in a basket to share. There were so many right now. Perhaps a fresh strawberry jam on toast for sup—
A frantic knocking jolted him out of his ponderance on strawberries. He turned to see a woman’s face peering through the window by the front door. It was Ellie Peck. Timothy caught his breath. It was a mix of surprise and unpreparedness that often accompanied his encounters with Ellie. She had a way about her that left him unable to know exactly what to say or how to act.
“Mr. Teasdale? Are you in there, Mr. Teasdale? It’s Ellie… it’s Ms. Peck! Are you there?”
Timothy hastened to unlatch the door. “Ms. Peck,” he said. Ellie grasped her chest in relief and briefly bent over to catch her breath. She looked as though she’d been running. “Uh, would you like to come in?”
She nodded excitedly and entered. Timothy noticed a small cage in her hand then. It was covered in a cloth. Ellie placed it on the counter.
“Are you alright, Ms. Peck?”
“I’m in a bit of a pickle, Mr. Teasdale. I hate to bother anyone with it, but I’m not sure what to do! I thought to ask you for your help.” Her mouth formed a small smile as she looked at Timothy. She still breathed a little heavily and her cheeks glowed from her exertion.
“Of course, Ms. Peck. I’d be glad to help you. What is the matter?”
“Well, it’s… um…” she hemmed, and glanced at the cage. “I’m trusting you with this, Mr. Teasdale. But please don’t tell anyone.” Timothy nodded in agreement. “It’s this.” Ellie slowly unwrapped the cloth from the cage and let it slip down.
Timothy gasped at the sight. “What is that, Ms. Peck?”
“It’s called a runespoor. It’s just a baby. It has recently come into my possession—by accident! I’m trying to find a home for it, or something, but nothing has come up yet. The poor thing has been in my shop for two days, but it’s causing mayhem over there! The other beasts are in an uproar and the racket is driving me batty! I even put the thing in the cellar, but they can still smell it down there. I don’t know what to do!”
The runespoor was small. The orange and black three-headed serpent was only a foot in length. One of the heads was covered in a helmet fashioned from a small teacup, tied on with twine. In spite of its small size, Timothy looked at it with trepidation. Three-headed baby snakes unnerved him, he just discovered.
He already had a bad feeling that he didn’t want to know the answer, but he asked her, “What do you want me to do?”
“Oh, Mr. Teasdale, I’d be so grateful if you wouldn’t mind holding onto it for a few days, while I find a home for it. It would only be a few days, I’m sure! I just can’t keep it in the shop with the other beasts. I’ll come by and feed it each night, so it would be no trouble for you.”
The thought of keeping that thing in the building made Timothy shudder inside. But it was Ellie asking. She’d brought him a plate of biscuits when he’d moved in. He couldn’t say no to her.
“Alright, Ms. Peck,” he said, uneasily.
“Oh, that’s such a relief, thank you! I promise it will be no trouble at all! Just…” she hesitated, and lowered her voice. “Just keep it to yourself. It’s mostly harmless, but there are certain regulations around runespoors. They’re not from here. That doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with them. But folks can be closed-minded about beasts.” She looked at the runespoor and tilted her head sideways. “Dear little thing… she never asked for all of this…”
Timothy couldn’t help but smile a little as Ellie looked pitifully at the snake. She had thought to come to him for help and trusted him with this, and that made him happy.
“And don’t put your fingers near the cage, Mr. Teasdale. The one wearing the teacup does make a wee bit of venom, but it’s nothing to concern you. As I said, I’ll feed it nightly. Just put the cage in an out-of-the-way spot and it’ll be right as rain.”
Timothy had no intention of putting his fingers near the cage, and he was thrilled to put it in an out-of-the-way spot. It sounded like this favor for Ellie would be no trouble at all.
…
Ellie came by each evening with rodents to feed the creature. At first, Timothy looked forward to her comings. He was thrilled at the idea of seeing her daily. He’d stowed the little cage in his small sitting room in the attic during the day, and placed it downstairs in the shop at night. He wasn’t going to sleep too near the runespoor.
As the days turned into weeks, a small regret began to creep into his mind. A month had gone by and the runespoor had tripled in size. Ellie had brought a larger cage for it, but it was rather too large to easily move around. The cage stayed in his upstairs sitting room then. At night, he covered it with a blanket, so at least he wouldn’t have to watch the three heads stare at him as he sat in his upholstered chair and read a book, by lamplight, as he was accustomed to doing.
“You’re so kind, Mr. Teasdale,” Ellie expressed to him, as she tossed dead rats into the cage one evening. “Finding somewhere to send her isn’t as easy as I had hoped. It’s hard to move a creature that has restrictions. There has been some interest from certain animal dealers, but I cannot, in good conscience, send her there. They’re all poachers and smugglers! I am scouring the country for a place, I promise, Mr. Teasdale!”
Ellie brought baskets of biscuits, and other small gifts, as appeasements for how long it was taking.
“Please don’t worry, Ms. Peck. I understand. They’re not much trouble. I do wonder, though, how much bigger is she going to get?”
“Normally, runespoors reach six or seven feet long. But her growth will be slower from now on, I’m sure of it!”
Timothy didn’t want Ellie to be stressed about it. She was obviously trying her best. “Please don’t fret, I mean it, Ms. Peck. I’m happy to help you.”
…
Another month passed. Ellie came less often. At first it was because she had another urgent matter to attend. Timothy understood. Coming by every day had to be an inconvenience for her. Sometimes she left crates of frozen rats so that Timothy could do the nightly feedings himself. He used tongs to pick up one rat at a time and toss it into the cage. The three heads would fight over them until each one had eaten its fill.
Ellie lamented her lack of success in her search and brought more gifts when she dropped off the crates of rats. She seemed burdened by guilt and Timothy wondered if she didn’t come by as much because she felt so bad about the situation. But what could she do? She was trying. As much as he didn’t love it either, they were stuck in the situation together, for now.
The one head had long grown out of its teacup helmet and had been replaced with a miner’s cap. Timothy understood now about the helmet. Two of the heads would, from time to time, attack the third. Their fangs only ever met the metal cap, though. He would sometimes hear teeth and metal clashing together under the blanket at night.
The runespoor was still growing at a tremendous rate. It had already exceeded Ellie’s estimation of its final length and each of its heads was the size of a person’s head. The cage was becoming unbearably small and the constraint of it only seemed to aggravate the creature and make the heads fight more. Ellie didn’t have a larger cage that was portable, nor could they have gotten a larger cage up the stairs anyway.
Timothy decided that he would let them out in his bedroom, rather than listen to their constant fighting. He moved his furniture out of the room and pushed the cage against the door. Using his wand, he opened the cage and the runespoor slithered into the room. He quickly closed the door and sighed. The room was secure enough for such a large creature. It wasn’t as though the thing could slip through a crack, as big as it was.
…
Ellie picked up the old cage, and apologised profusely. She brought a dried fruit cake and another crate of rats. But when she and Timothy crossed paths in town, she could barely raise her eyes to his.
Timothy set up his bed in the sitting room and tried to sleep in there, but the knowledge that the runespoor was loose in the next room turned out to be too disconcerting. He could still hear its occasional fighting, too. After a week of near sleepless nights, Timothy gave up. He set up a hammock between several trees behind the garden. His mind began to fester about the snake. He could just let it loose when no one was looking. Maybe it would slither away into the Forbidden Forest or somewhere. He could stop feeding it. He could kill it with poison. It was out of character for him to think such thoughts, and he would never act on them. Ellie would hate him if he hurt it on purpose, too. She was trusting him with the creature, and as much as it had become a major inconvenience, he determined he would carry on, if not for the creature’s sake, at least for hers.
His customers came and went, as usual. He assisted them with their seed and plant purchases, as usual. All while the knowledge of the venomous beast above them permeated his every encounter. He was frightened that it would fight while a customer was in the shop, and that it would be heard and discovered. He couldn’t have his business ruined for it. He, himself, could get in trouble with Officer Singer and the law, if the runespoor was discovered. So he decided to move the bulk of the shop contents outside.
He purchased a cart stand and placed it in the front yard. He sat on a stool there and tried to appear as if he had always done so.
“Mr. Teasdale?” Ms. Green asked, as she passed by one morning. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing outside?”
“Ah, Ms. Green,” he replied. “What better place for a vendor of the flora of our lovely world to be than outside, where the flora are the happiest? Fresh air and sunshine are a delight.”
“Hmm,” she said. “To some, I suppose. My mandrakes and tentacula are happy inside. And it’s much too easy to become sunburned and parched out here in this heat. Your plants will need extra watering or they’ll dry up before you know it.”
“To each their own, Ms. Green.” He tried to sound polite. “I’ll tend to my plants as needed, you needn’t worry.” Ms. Green huffed and moved along. It was true that moving all the plants outside was hard on them. Sitting in the blaring sun in August was wretched. He tried to rig up a sunshade with a piece of fabric.
He went upstairs that evening to feed the runespoor. He had a half full crate of dead rats in one hand. Instead of the tong approach, he planned to toss the crate’s contents into the room and let the heads sort it out. He listened carefully and heard nothing, so he slowly turned the doorknob and peered through. The tail was visible at the far side of the room. He pushed the door open enough for the crate to pass through. He tried to quickly shake the contents out, but several rats were still frozen, and stuck to the bottom. He tried to dislodge them with a quick knock against the floor, but a few remained attached. He began to frantically pound the crate against the floor. Why he thought it was more important to empty the last of the rats than to close the door, he reproached himself later. Because it was then that one of the heads slipped past his leg.
While two heads gobbled up the rats, the other had its nose sniffing past him. Timothy gasped and dropped the crate. He stumbled back and fell onto the floor. The runespoor raised its head and looked down on him. His eyes bulged and he scrambled backward. Another of the heads had noticed the path to freedom and exited the bedroom, as well. Timothy was in no position to recapture the creature in the room. His only option was retreat. He found his feet and ran down the stairway. There were no more doors in the shop, except that which led outside. He thought he heard the creature following him, so outside he went. He pulled the door closed, latched it well, and slid down with his back against it.
Timothy pulled his knees to his chest and fell his head upon them. What was he to do? He’d lost the shop in its entirety. It was gone. Overrun. There were knuts and galleons in the till, clothes in the wardrobe, even food in the icebox. It was all just beyond his reach. He wished he’d thought to at least grab the money or a change of clothing, but he couldn’t really blame himself. He went and laid in the hammock and regretted everything.
The next morning, he planned to appear as usual. He would station himself at the cart stand, and so on. But he couldn’t risk someone accidentally wandering into the shop, so he used a plant growing charm to grow up thick vines across the door. That would keep the runespoor in, too. Each night, he climbed up the ladder to the greenhouse roof in order to dump a crate of rats down inside for the creature. As long as it was fed, then it hopefully wouldn’t make a fuss and be discovered.
…
Thomas Brown greeted him as Timothy came for the book club meeting later that week. He didn’t have his copy of the book with him. It was on the small table in the sitting room of his former residence.
“Welcome, Mr. Teasdale, and how are you this evening?” Mr. Brown was a pleasant townsman and hosted the book club at his shop, Tomes & Scrolls.
“Fine, as usual, Mr. Brown. I’ve misplaced my copy of the book, unfortunately, and wasn’t able to catch up. But I’d still like to join this evening.”
“Of course, good sir. Would you like to buy another copy?”
“Uh… I’m short on knuts at the moment, as well. But once the school students return, I’ll buy one.”
“Oh my,” Mr. Brown replied. “Well, why don’t you borrow my copy until then. I’ve read it before.” Mr. Brown had no idea the Magic Neep was struggling that much. Timothy always seemed so well attuned to business matters.
“Thank you, that is most kind of you,” Timothy said, as he placed a basket of tomatoes, courgettes, raspberries, and flowers on the low table among the gathered club members. “And I hope you will all help yourselves to my extra produce. My garden is bountiful right now.”
“You’re so generous, Mr. Teasdale,” said Ms. Mettle, the postmistress, as she picked up a raspberry and popped it into her mouth.
“Yes, much too generous,” added Mr. Brown.