Nerves raced up and down Bagsy's body as she shuffled from foot to foot, and then bounced up and down on her toes. She was wrapped tightly in scarves and gloves, shivering below her thick cloak. It was a very cold day and her breath was icy mist in the air. Neither Mezrielda nor Arice had turned up yet. Bagsy was early, and only a small crowd of students were standing in the courtyard excitedly awaiting departure.
Suddenly, there was an arm slung over her shoulder. Bagsy jumped in shock but relaxed and turned to the owner, expecting Mezrielda to look at her with that cold-but-not-quite-freezing look she always had. Her heart stalled when she found a grimacing Primrose instead, her blue eyes fiery with violence.
'Hello, B-B-Bagsy,' Primrose mocked, leaning in close and baring her teeth in the largest, and most horrifying smile Bagsy had seen.
'P-Primrose!' Bagsy squeaked, hating her stutter.
'Last year you ran around telling tales about me to the teachers when I hadn't done anything, as if I'd waste my time on a loser like you. A stupid nobody who spreads lies.' Primrose's hand gripped Bagsy's shoulder tightly. 'Everyone thinks you're such a goody two shoes. Such a sweet girl. Someone who'd never hurt a fly, never break a rule, never tell a fib.' Something even more dangerous entered Primrose's expression. 'You'd imagine my surprise when I saw little miss perfect sneaking into the forbidden forest in broad daylight, only a few feet away from a professor!' Primrose's hand was sealed tightly over the scar the blood eyed beast had given Bagsy in her first year, and pain was jittering forcefully around her shoulder.
Tears pricked Bagsy's eyes. 'P-please,' she whispered, 'let go...'
'Don't tell me what to do!' Primrose hissed, digging her nails in. Bagsy let out a pained yelp and a few students shot them curious looks. Primrose shot them glares and Bagsy avoided their eyes, not wanting to make a scene. She had a feeling doing so would only make Primrose angrier. Bagsy just had to wait for Primrose to leave her alone before she could find a teacher and tell them what the other girl had done.
'Don't get any ideas,' Primrose whispered in Bagsy's ear. 'You say a word about this to anyone and you'll be kicked out of this school for going into the forbidden forest faster than you can say squib.'
Bagsy held back a shudder, folding in on herself fearfully. Primrose gave her a shake – it looked like the kind of shake a friend might give to another, only this one was really a thinly veiled threat of pain. 'I know you're up to something, Bagsy, and I'm going to figure it out, and then everyone will see you for just what you are. A nosy, selfish, hypocritical snot-nose who acts sheepish to hide the manipulative soul beneath.' Primrose shoved Bagsy away from her, as if she couldn't stand to be near her. 'You make me sick.'
'What did you just say!?' someone growled from behind Bagsy. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Bagsy looked to see a fuming Arice as he marched over to Primrose.
At first, Primrose seemed to shrink away from him, but Bagsy saw the exact moment when Primrose decided she wasn't backing down from the fight.
'Arice, please,' Bagsy urged, trying to grab onto the sleeve of his jumper, 'don't-'
'What did you say to her?' Arice spat angrily at Primrose.
'This your boyfriend or something, Bagsy?' Primrose taunted, flipping her gorgeous blond curls over a shoulder. Bagsy noticed her other hand was still in her pocket, most likely holding her wand. 'Makes sense. He's as boring as you are. I bet your favourite colour is grey and you think bread is spicy.' A spattering of chuckles sounded from the other students, who were starting to pay attention now it was clear an altercation was brewing.
'Arice, just leave it!' Bagsy pleaded.
'She insulted you! She was grabbing your shoulder!' Arice argued, glaring back at Bagsy.
'I don't want any trouble,' Bagsy persisted, but Arice turned away from her, ignoring her pleas.
'Aww,' Primrose intoned mockingly. 'Trouble in paradise?'
Arice didn't bother drawing his wand, instead he lurched forward, shoving Primrose.
With a surprised yelp Primrose toppled backwards, falling onto her backside. 'You-!' Primrose grit out in fury. Bagsy, and the small crowd, were stunned when the small, fragile looking Primrose launched from the ground at Arice and tackled him to the floor. Their wands forgotten, Arice and Primrose traded blows.
Bagsy watched on helplessly. 'Stop!' she cried, not sure what to do.
'Well, well, well,' a new voice tutted at Bagsy's side. It was Mezrielda.
'Please, stop them!' Bagsy said, turning to the voice she recognised. Mezrielda was standing, arms crossed, watching the show with barely hidden amusement. Her expression might always be half-way between a scowl and emotionless, but there was a quirk to her lips and a glint in her eyes that hinted at how she was really feeling. In the moment Bagsy spoke to her, the little flavours in her face vanished, replaced by a serious consideration.
Mezrielda furrowed her brow and nodded. 'But of course. One moment.' As if it was nothing, Mezrielda pulled her wand from her sleeve with an elegant flourish. 'Cover your ears,' she instructed, and Bagsy did as she was told. 'Bubulous!' Mezrielda pronounced clearly and a screeching noise emitted from her wand. It was the same noise she'd conjured in their first year, only this time it didn't split Bagsy's head in two with its intensity – it seemed ever so slightly quieter.
The other students weren't too thankful for this, though, and bowed their heads in shock, covering their ears. Primrose and Arice rolled away from each other, doing much the same.
Mezrielda slashed her arm to the side, silencing the noise. The courtyard stood frozen, the only sound now was the wind and an occasional squawk of a crow. 'Once you've finished acting like vultures fighting over a bone, would you like to join the rest of us in civilised society?' she asked, walking gracefully over to Primrose and holding her hand out to help her to her feet. Primrose slapped Mezrielda's hand away, grumbling to herself as she stood and dusted herself off.
Without a look at Arice, Mezrielda shrugged nonchalantly and moved backward. Arice got himself to his feet, shooting glares in Primrose's direction.
'Everyone ready for the trip?' Professor Wattleseed asked, an excited gleam in his eyes as he stroked his goatee. He'd just arrived and didn't notice the glances the children were sharing with each other. The students who'd seen or been involved in the altercation averted their eyes and remained silent.
'Hey, where's Professor Blythurst – doesn't he usually take us to Hogsmeade?' an older student asked in confusion.
'He's, uhh...' Wattleseed stumbled over his words. 'Currently busy. This year other teachers are taking over that role of his.'
There wasn't much chatter amongst the students as they set off, only tentative glances at Primrose, who was fixing her hair with a dignified expression on her face as if those around her were peasants, and at Arice, who couldn't seem to decide who he wanted to scowl at more; Mezrielda or Primrose.
'Why were you late?' Primrose hissed to Rebekah as she fell into step next to her, Bagsy just able to overhear them. Primrose was, like most students, dwarfed by Rebekah. Their conversation fell into hushed tones Bagsy couldn't make out, so all she was left to focus on was the awkward air that surrounded herself, Arice and Mezrielda. Currently, she was walking between the two, unable to deny the angry energy that surrounded Arice, or the smug, obnoxious aura Mezrielda was shooting right back.
As the students around them slowly broke into chatter, most discussing what had occurred in the courtyard, the three walked on in silence. Until, eventually, Arice let out a loud and pointed humph.
'I'm sorry,' Mezrielda murmured, checking her nails absentmindedly, 'but is something the matter, Adam?'
Arice's face flushed in anger. He shot a look at Bagsy, expecting her to do something, but she just ducked her head low and pretended she wasn't there.
'It's Arice, not Adam, and I would've won that if you'd let me,' Arice said to Mezrielda, sounding as if he was putting a lot of effort into remaining calm.
Mezrielda shrugged. 'Perhaps. But then I wouldn't have looked like a model pupil, coming to the aid of my fellow students and efficiently bringing an end to the superfluous altercation.'
Bagsy cringed. Mezrielda was using her vocabulary again. That was never a good sign.
'I can't believe you said that!' Arice breathed. 'So, it's all an act? You just want popularity?'
'Absolutely.' Mezrielda gave a curt nod of her head, clasping her hands behind her back as they walked on. 'Popularity is utility, after all.'
'You won't be popular once people know that.'
Mezrielda leant forward, passed Bagsy and towards Arice. Bagsy shrunk back, catching a glimpse of a nasty expression on her friend's features. Her eyes were wide and shadowed below dark hair that fell in her face, curtaining the threatening smile she directed at Arice. Bagsy had never realised Mezrielda could look so scary.
'And who's going to tell them?' Mezrielda asked, her voice just loud enough to be heard.
Arice gulped. He grabbed Bagsy's hand, who let out an eep! of surprise. 'Come on,' he muttered to her, looking away from Mezrielda. 'Let's go on ahead.'
Bagsy let herself be dragged away. She cast a glance over her shoulder and for the briefest of moments saw confusion and hurt on Mezrielda's face, before it was schooled back into blank observation, as if she was examining an interesting piece of artwork. Then other students obstructed her view and she couldn't see Mezrielda anymore.
'You said you were going to Hogsmeade with me, anyway, not me and that girl,' Arice pointed out, slowing his pace once they'd reached the front of the group, only Professor Wattleseed and Professor Kim ahead of them, also walking hand in hand.
Bagsy sheepishly looked down at her own hand and pulled it free from Arice's. The contact had felt awkward in a way that sent cold discomfort around her body. 'Right...' Bagsy trailed off, glancing behind herself again, but she couldn't see Mezrielda.
Arice took charge once they got to Hogsmeade, showing her around. 'My mother had a shop here for a few years,' he explained, 'so I know this place really well. She tried to set up a local newspaper, but it didn't work out. Oh! Look! Tomes and Scrolls. That place has been open for, like, three hundred years or something.'
Bagsy nodded along numbly at Arice's commentary, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to relish the silent listener he'd found in Bagsy, who wasn't really paying much attention to his words. It was like spending time with Greenda, Bagsy reasoned, in that she spent most of the conversation listening. Usually, Bagsy didn't mind that at all. In fact, she often relished the chance to be passive in whatever social interaction she was having, so she should have felt comfortable listening to Arice. Except, on the few moments when Bagsy did speak up, asking if they could visit the joke shop, Hoohsair, or the Olde Sweet Shope, or even the Quidditch gear shop, Arice dismissed her request with a wave of his hand, insisting he knew far more interesting things to look at, and then continued talking about whatever it was he had been talking about. Bagsy guessed he would know better than her and let herself be led on but did feel a little upset she didn't get to look at the things she wanted to.
Then they passed a shop that had boarded up windows and a closed sign on the door. Bagsy's eyes flicked up to the shop name and stopped in her tracks. Pepsini's Curiosities stared back down at her. 'Arice,' Bagsy said, cutting through whatever random piece of information he'd been talking about.
Arice frowned and followed Bagsy' gaze. 'Oh, that place?' he said. 'It used to be run by a nice lady. She's long dead now, though,' he explained. 'It's been closed for ages. Bagsy, wait! There's nothing of interest in there, it's just an old shop.' Bagsy wasn't listening to Arice again and, for the first time, she decided that she didn't care if he thought it wasn't worth looking. She pressed her face against the window. 'Bagsy-' Arice started.
'The windows are fogged up,' Bagsy commented, leaning backwards and drawing a star on the condensation.
'So?'
'So,' Bagsy said, not sure what had possessed her in that moment as she moved towards the door. 'Someone's inside. The heating's on.' She knocked on the door. A few moments later, someone opened it.
Opius Pepsini looked down at Bagsy, his limbs as long and thin as she remembered, he loomed over Arice and her. 'You're not Theophos,' he commented, perplexed.
'What are you doing here?' Arice asked in confusion. 'I thought this place was shut down.'
'Oh? Is it?' Pepsini wondered aloud, twirling the ends of his moustache as he glanced up at the shop's name, as if checking he was in the right place.
'It says closed,' Arice pointed out.
Pepsini glanced down at the closed sign. 'So, it does,' he hummed. 'That will explain the low traffic. I was beginning to wonder why no one visited anymore...'
'Sir,' Bagsy cut in politely, 'it's only... is this your shop?'
Pepsini blinked down at her in surprise. 'Bagsy!' he exclaimed. 'No, no, this is – was – my sister's shop. Cotesia was her name.' Pepsini pulled the door open wide and with his long black and yellow cane pointed into the dark, crammed room. 'Do come in. I insist.'
Gulping, Bagsy entered. The small shop was filled to bursting with strange antiques and odd items. A small fireplace was roaring in the corner, an armchair sitting in front of it. 'Were you expecting someone?' Bagsy questioned.
Pepsini nodded, swapping his cane from one hand to the other with extravagant flourishes. 'Oh yes, quite. I was hoping to converse with Theophos. Professor Blythurst, that is.'
Bagsy wanted to ask why he wanted to meet Professor Blythurst, but she'd been called nosy one too many times that term. Then again, she did really want to know... 'Why?' she blurted against her better judgement.
'Why do I want to speak with Theophos?' Pepsini clarified. Bagsy nodded. 'Oh ho ho ho,' he laughed ridiculously, 'that is quite the long story, I'm afraid. It seems Theophos shan't be turning up, and I've already concluded the installation of intruder alarms I was summoned to this corner of Scotland to construct. Thus, I must bid this warm village adieu and head back to London.' He indicated the mantle over the fireplace, where a batch of Floo powder was waiting.
Bagsy frowned, her nosy-ness continuing. 'What installation?'
'Oh, just a little job the Ministry has me consulting on. Not all my money can come from books and inventions, you see, and this little shop is only a short walk from where they requested my work be set up. But, enough about that; the Ministry aren't fans of sharing their business, and I really ought to get going.'
'Yeah, we should be leaving too,' Arice chimed in. 'Things to see. We don't have long left and there are loads more landmarks we haven't covered yet.'
Bagsy tried to hide her grimace at that. 'Mr Pepsini, sir,' she pressed on in favour of responding to Arice, 'would you call yourself an inventor?'
Pepsini looked her up and down. 'You tell me. If I recall correctly, you're familiar with my work.'
'Then yes?' Bagsy guessed. Pepsini didn't respond. 'Y-yes,' Bagsy repeated, forcing confidence into her words.
'Your instincts are spot on. I like to consider myself something of an inventor.'
'Have you ever made something that can control the weather?'
'What an interesting question.' Pepsini furrowed his brow, twirling his moustache again whilst his other hand spun his cane. 'No,' he said honestly. 'But if I remember correctly, my sister had a few curious items that might help in that regard.' With a dramatic wave of his hand, Opius Pepsini tapped his cane twice on the floor. Three small jars floated swiftly towards him. They were tiny and easily fit into his palm, and each contained a miniature version of some weather phenomenon. He held them out to Bagsy. As she reached for them, Pepsini abruptly jerked his hand backwards. 'I will give these to you on one condition,' he murmured, the lilt his voice usually followed suddenly gone. Bagsy nodded nervously. 'You must deliver this to Theophos for me,' Pepsini explained, and a letter materialised in his palm beneath the jars, addressed to Blythurst.
Gingerly, Bagsy took the items from his hand and pocketed them. 'Thank you,' she said gratefully.
Pepsini dipped his head politely and guided them to the door. 'What are you building, then, child?' he asked as they stepped back out into the cold.
Bagsy glanced at Arice, who looked bored and wasn't paying much attention, too keen on moving on to their next stop. 'A weather machine.'
Pepsini's eyes glinted with mischief. 'Indeed? Well. Best of luck with that, Bagsy,' he offered kindly. 'Perhaps you'll hear from me in the future. I'm a busy man, so I can't make any promises, but you seem to have a mind much like my own. Toodle pip.' Without giving her a chance to respond, Pepsini closed the door and disappeared into the dusty depths of the shop's shadows.
'Come on,' Arice was sounding much happier already. 'You see that building over there? A few years back it was painted green instead of brown, but the paint was beginning to crack, so-'
Bagsy didn't remember anything else Arice said, she was too busy feeling the small jars now in her pocket and smiling at the idea of making a weather machine for Mezrielda. She also didn't notice Primrose, who'd been following them at a distance, her sharp blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.
A spiteful smirk spread across her face as she murmured, 'a weather machine, huh?'