Mezrielda had told Bagsy to wait until midnight once again. This time, as Bagsy awoke, she was surrounded by the brown wood, green vegetation and yellow decorations of the girl's dormitory. When her bed squeaked as she slowly slid off it she couldn't help but freeze and cringe. She glanced over at Primrose's bed. The girl had slept with Bagsy's spell-sponge gloves and spider slippers clutched to her chest. There had been a wild hope, in Bagsy's heart, that Primrose would return them to her and apologise for her behaviour. Failing that naïve wish, Bagsy had reckoned there was a good chance she'd leave the gloves and slippers on her make-up swamped vanity so she could steal them back, but no such luck had come her way.
She knew she couldn't swipe the items from Primrose without waking her and she'd rather lack her spider items than risk alerting Primrose to her rule-breaking. Instead, fitting her feet with her regular school shoes, and pulling her large, many pocketed robe on, Bagsy slowly crept out of the room. Before she'd gone to bed, she had deliberately left the dormitory door ajar so she wouldn't have to turn the noisy handle to get out.
It was with surprise that Bagsy heard the clatter of a glass bottle overturn and spin onto the ground. Looking down dumbly, Bagsy widened her eyes in the darkness to see an empty glass bottle lying on its side. For some reason, it had been placed in front of the door. She couldn't help feeling anger at whoever had left their litter in such an odd place. Either way, none of her fellow dorm-mates seemed to have awoken at the noise and Bagsy slipped through the open door and into the common room.
She quickly popped into her private room and retrieved the potion she and Mezrielda had assembled the previous night, finding herself grinning inexplicably at the thought. Perhaps she did somewhat enjoy being a rebel and breaking the rules.
Excitement pushing her onwards, Bagsy rushed out of the Hufflepuff common room, through the barrel opening, and down the corridor. She passed the still-life painting that led to the kitchens then the double doors that led to the great hall and skirted her way around corners and up and down stairs. Her eyes guided her in the near pitch blackness. She couldn't cast lumos, and though she'd brought her muggle torch with her she hadn't bothered to turn it on – the flashing light would only act as a signal to patrolling professors that someone was out of bed. Plus, she didn't want to wake the paintings.
She nearly let out a loud cry when a rug tripped her feet. Instead, she turned in the air and landed on her side, cradling the potion from damage, the substance inside barely moving as she used her arms to cushion the impact. Hoping that wouldn't count as the potion being disturbed she got back up to continue on her way, muttering angrily to herself.
Before she took another step, though, she paused. Standing still in the darkness of Hogwarts she couldn't help but let her mind slip back to the other Hogwarts. In the veil of shadows, it was difficult to tell the difference – did the other Hogwarts feel like this at night? Empty and cold and ominous? The settling groans of the building, the gothic windows and spires, and the stretching corridors were identical.
Taking a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, she smelt old wood, moth eaten curtains and carpets, and the fresh smell of night time grass. Relieved, she moved her feet once more. The other Hogwarts smelt and felt of nothing, she reminded herself, and you didn't feel like you were being watched in the other Hogwarts because you felt like nothing was there at all.
Bagsy stopped again, realising she did feel as though she was being watched. Once more she stood still and looked behind her, but no one was there. At least, no one she could see in the dim light of night. Deciding she needed to stop dawdling, Bagsy forced herself onwards and finally reached the exit by the greenhouses.
'Finally,' Mezrielda murmured, stepping out from behind an old cabinet where she'd been hiding. Bagsy jumped in surprise. 'It's me! Don't punch!' Mezrielda assured her hurriedly. Bagsy let out a breath, her heart racing and adrenaline flooding her system at the sudden surprise. 'Come one,' Mezrielda continued. 'We better hurry while there's still moonlight.' Setting a brisk pace, Mezrielda went first, heading towards the forbidden forest.
Bagsy had to correct her direction a few times, steering them towards the clostra boab patch. Even in the dark it wasn't had to find, given she went there every Friday, and that she spent those lessons focussing on everything else but the boy she was partnered with and who made her feel very awkward indeed. 'Here,' Bagsy said at last, once they reached the patch of trees. They had begun sprouting and, in the darkness, it was easy to make out the small blobs of brown wood slowly growing out of the ground like pumpkins.
'Let me guess,' Mezrielda mused, walking up and down the rows of Australian trees, stopping at the largest, healthiest looking one. She pointed confidently down at it. 'This one is yours, I take it?' Bagsy nodded sheepishly. 'Impressive,' she complimented her, and Bagsy was glad it was dark so that she could hide her self-conscious blush.
Mezrielda walked back over to her. 'Last chance, Bagsy,' she said. 'If you don't wish to go in there we won't.' She pointed a finger behind her at the dark tree line. If the rest of Hogwarts was black in the thick of night, then the forbidden forest was a void of oblivion with only cobwebs, gnarled trees and ghastly whispers on the wind to keep you from losing all sense of existence. Bagsy gulped, a shiver of fear taking hold. 'You don't want to,' Mezrielda realised, saying it more to herself than Bagsy. 'Let's leave it.'
'No.' Bagsy clenched her fists, pushing past Mezrielda. Before she knew what her body was doing, she'd hopped over the wooden fence Wattleseed had erected at the start of the year. She stood on its other side, firmly at the treeline, her back to the yawning unknown and her face turned to Mezrielda. 'We're doing this. I made you a promise.' Mezrielda looked at her silently before nodded and following suit. She paused once she went over the fence, looking back at the castle with a concerned expression. 'What?' Bagsy asked, wondering briefly if Mezrielda had really meant that she didn't want to do this when she'd asked earlier.
'I thought...' Mezrielda trailed off, her eyes scanning the open field. 'Hmm.' Her lips were pursed in worry. 'Let's go, we better be quick. It's now or never Bagsy.'
'Right.' Bagsy looked at the deepness of the forbidden forest and nervously gestured ahead of her. 'A-after you...'
Mezrielda smirked at her then went towards the weeping weeds, which were glowing a faint blue in the darkness. The moonlight seemed to suck into them and release itself, giving off a soft glow; a respite in the oppressive dark. They reached the weeping weeds and, unlike last time when Bagsy had been uncontrollably afraid and alone, this time Bagsy was only uncontrollably afraid. She looked around herself, taking in the clearing and the circle of threatening trees that loomed high over their heads.
'This is perfect,' Mezrielda murmured. 'Cover so the weather machine won't be seen, and enough space for whatever my transformation may be. Bagsy.' Mezrielda snapped her head to look at her. Bagsy returned her intense stare. 'Activate the machine.'
Sensing Mezrielda had deeply enjoyed saying that line, and suspecting she may have practised it in her head beforehand, Bagsy felt her nerves ease up with amusement. Pulling the bronze cube from her robe, Bagsy laid it down on the floor and spoke the words to open it. It unfolded, and the weather machine stood before her. Allowing herself some of her own dramatism, Bagsy gave a little bow to Mezrielda before spinning the weather machine elaborately to the electrical storm jar. She fastened her hand onto the largest crank, steeling herself against the oncoming force, and pulled. With a sudden sucking, then booming gushing noise, dark clouds and bright, thundering crackles of electricity sprung like freed spirits from the machine and up, into the sky. The trees around them shook at the force, their barren branches shuddering, and some even snapping. Sparks of light sparked every few seconds, like amplified flashes of Bagsy's muggle torch, lighting up the world in blinding ferocity and thundering booms.
'That's enough!' Mezrielda yelled above the noise, holding her arms in front of her face, her sleek black hair buffeted wildly in the wind.
With some effort, Bagsy pulled the crank that released the sealable substance, sealing the hole that had been pierced in the jar containing the electrical storm. The pressure pushing against her was suddenly gone and Bagsy slumped forward, leaning onto the weather machine. She let out a breath of relief – the intensity of the raging storm leaving them and settling in the sky above with ominous rumbles of thunder. Wind still rushed around them, but now Mezrielda and Bagsy's hair were being gently ruffled instead of stood on end. Mezrielda pulled her wand deftly from her sleeve while Bagsy folded the forge, weather machine contained inside, back up.
'This is it...' Mezrielda murmured, stepping to the centre of the clearing, an electrical storm raging above and around them. 'Bagsy, I recommend you give me some space. If my form is a large creature I would hate to accidentally crush you. It would certainly put a dampener on our achievement.'
Bagsy nodded, walking backwards to the edge of the clearing, coming to a stop when she heard the crunch of the weeping weeds below her feet. She lifted her foot back up and grimaced down at the plants. 'Sorry,' she muttered, before looking up at Mezrielda. 'Oh!' Bagsy said suddenly. 'Mezrielda!' she called, holding the potion up and wriggling it to get her friend's attention.
'Of course,' Mezrielda murmured, pointing her wand at the vial. 'Accio,' she said calmly. The vial gently lifted from Bagsy's hand and floated over to Mezrielda. She'd certainly perfected that charm.
Bagsy watched, mesmerised by the scene. Mezrielda stood elegant and regal, shoulders back and relaxed, circled by glinting blue flowers in a large clearing. The vial shimmered in the flashes of lighting above as it glided through the air towards her extended palm. It landed purposefully and Mezrielda's fingers closed around it.
In that moment, Bagsy felt the feeling from earlier return, the feeling of being watched. With a sharp intake of breath, she searched around her, wild panic searing below her skin stronger than it had before. Suddenly, Mezrielda felt much too far away. 'Mez-' Bagsy began to say in a small voice, but her friend didn't hear her.
'Amato,' Mezrielda began the spell, her eyes fluttering closed as lines of concentration drew themselves across her face. She flicked her wand this way and that in complicated motions that looked like the delicate strokes of an artist. Bagsy shut her mouth. It was just her imagination, she told herself. She needed to calm down – if she interrupted Mezrielda she could mess everything up. She could even cause the spell to do serious, permanent damage to her.
'Animo,' Mezrielda continued, her wand movement changing, its swipes growing wider and more complex. The wind changed, too. Bagsy could feel it – something powerful was occurring. The storm above shifted, rotating around one central point slowly, its lighting reaching down like the hand of a devout follower towards its saviour. The twigs and leaves on the ground began to shift, tumbling over themselves with a sluggish speed at first as they moved in a circle. It all centred, Bagsy realised, on Mezrielda, whose hair was flowing above her head as if she was sinking below water, swishing up sleekly towards the sky that seemed to bend and curve down towards her.
'Animato.' Mezrielda opened her eyes – their whites were completely gone and nothing but a deep brown, so dark it was almost black, looked out. Bagsy found her breath leaving her. The twigs and leaves were lifting off the floor as the wind picked up, swirling around Mezrielda as if caught in a whirlpool. Was it just Bagsy's eyes, or where the small pieces slowly changing shape and colour? She thought they were shifting into soft looking tear drops. With a start, Bagsy realised that Mezrielda was slowly being surrounded by an thickening wall of black feathers.
'Animagus!' Mezrielda finished the spell and tipped her head back as she drank the needed portion of the potion in one decisive gulp. She disappeared from view behind the feathers and thunder split the air. Bagsy ducked her head down, putting her hands over her ears against the noise. Forcing her eyes upwards she watched as the feathers began to shoot outwards and away from where Mezrielda had been standing. Through them, she made out the shape of her friend, slowly shrinking down.
With the loudest and brightest crack of lightning so far, two shadows in the shape of wings, whose wingspan reached across the entire clearing, were burned into Bagsy's retina's, before everything disappeared into darkness.
When Bagsy's eyes finally adjusted the weather was already calming. The clouds were dissipating, and the moonlight was slowly filtering back into the scene. It was like the ocean after a storm – indescribably peaceful.
Stood in the centre of this tranquillity, her black and white feathers sleek in the soft light and her talons shining magnificently, was a magpie.
'Mezrielda?' Bagsy asked, walking towards the bird. The bird regarded her, turning her head and peering with one of its eyes. Bagsy didn't need an answer – she couldn't describe how, but she was certain her eyes weren't lying to her; this bird before her was Mezrielda. There was no mistaking it. A grin spread across her face. 'You did it!' she cried in excitement, giving a small jump of victory. The magpie kicked off the ground, her wings sweeping through the air precisely before she landed on Bagsy's outstretched arms. 'Ouch! Careful with those things, they're sharp,' Bagsy protested. Mezrielda let out a small squawk of apology before shifting her talons so as not to poke into her skin.
Bagsy took a second to inspect her friend. She'd never seen a magpie up close and she wasn't sure if it was all magpies or just Mezrielda that looked so pristine. She was black and white, the patterns of her feathers neatly lined, and the phrase 'not a feather out of place' sprung to mind. But it wasn't just that; unlike crows, magpies had more than just black feathers, which Bagsy could see when Mezrielda proudly spread out her wings, demonstrating them in all their majesty. They were a wonderful metallic shade of turquoise, with sharp white tips on the ends and white curved shapes at the join with Mezrielda's body. This same iridescent bluey-green covered her long tail, which was glossily finished by a band of purple at the tip.
'You look beautiful...' Bagsy trailed off, inspecting the bird with barely concealed amazement. Mezrielda puffed out her white chest feathers and ducked her head down, clacking her black beak in what Bagsy would describe as an 'of course I am'. Bagsy moved her arm one way and then the other, taking in how Mezrielda glimmered in the moonlight, the turquoise of her feathers catching the glow in just the right ways.
'Are you done, yet?' a snide voice called from above them. Bagsy leapt out of her skin in fright, a terrified yelp escaping her. Mezrielda fluttered her wings in alarm, jumping from Bagsy's suddenly flailing arm. Clearly, she hadn't got being a bird down to an artform yet and turned back into a girl mid-air. The spell of elegance was broken, and she tumbled to the ground, letting out an ugly sound as she hit the floor in a heap of limps.
Within a second, Mezrielda had scrambled back to her feet, wand in hand and pointed at the trees, leaves stuck in her hair as her eyes narrowed fiercely and her nostrils flared. 'Come out, Primrose,' she snarled, sounding more like an angry bear than a magpie.
Bagsy instinctively moved to Mezrielda's side, hiding behind her like a frightened squirrel. 'Primrose!?' she squeaked in horror.
Above their heads came the sound of slow clapping. 'Dumb and dumber figured out how to turn themselves into even dumber birds. How cool.' Bagsy watched, heart sinking, as Primrose walked down the tree, the spider slippers holding fast against the tree's bark. After a few paces Primrose stepped down onto the ground, allowing gravity to take its usual hold on her. She flicked her head to the slide, her blonde curls moving off of her face. 'Well, well, well,' she tutted, her mean eyes icily peering at them in the dim light. 'Someone's been breaking not just the school's rules, but the Ministry of Magic's, too. Fancy a trip to Azkaban, do we?'
'Careful, Primrose. I've been asked not to interfere with your memor-'
Primrose didn't seem to care for whatever it was Mezrielda was about to say, as she casually strolled past them into the centre of the clearing, inspecting her nails. 'I see you have some of that potion left over,' she observed, cutting over Mezrielda. Sure enough, Mezrielda had only drunk about half of the vial, and the remaining liquid was still safely within. 'You can buy my silence, and avoid any real issues, on one condition.' Primrose pivoted on her heels, smiling sweetly at them, clasping her hands in front of her mockingly. 'Would you make me an Animagus, too? Pretty please?'
Mezrielda's expression could only be described as fowl. 'That's not how it works.'
'Oh? It isn't?' Primrose put a finger to her lips innocently, blinking wide eyes at them. The façade slipped instantly into a cruel grin. 'And slippers and gloves don't let you climb on walls either, but as I discovered oh so helpfully yesterday, these ones do. It was rather a shock, but I thought, you know what? If Bagsy can make these, I'm sure she can think of a way to make me into an Animagus alongside Mezrielda. And now that I've seen she can make it work for you, I don't see why she can't make it work for me too.'
'I had to be silent for a month with a leaf in my mouth!' Mezrielda protested, but Primrose wafted her hand dismissively, entirely uninterested.
'Make it happen or I'll talk.'
Bagsy was no longer paying attention, her eyes darting back and forth instead. Swift scales could speed the process of brewing potions, and as she scrambled for a solution she couldn't help but wonder if, with care, they could speed the process of becoming an Animagus as well.
'See.' Primrose gestured at Bagsy. 'I know that look. That's the look I was banking on. She can do it. And she will, if she doesn't want you charged for being an unregistered Animagus.'
Bagsy was snapped from her thinking when, suddenly, she became aware of Mezrielda's posture changing. She was about to cast a spell. Without uttering a word, Mezrielda flicked her arm up, tracing a line in the air, and a green mist swept towards Primrose.
With barely a second to spare, Primrose's hand shot upwards. Garbed in Bagsy's spell-sponge glove, it absorbed the magic, dissipating it across her fingers. Primrose smirked, flexing her fingers. 'These are very handy, Bagsy, thank you. That's one thing you're good at – making stuff for better people to use.'
That seemed to do it for Mezrielda's patience. 'Return those at once you... petulant child!' she fumed, sounding angrier than Bagsy had ever heard her, to the point forcing her words out seemed a struggle.
'Ooh...' Primrose grinned knowingly, looking from Mezrielda to Bagsy meaningfully. 'That made you angry.' Mezrielda bared her teeth in response, casting the same spell again, taking an infuriated step forward as she did. Once more, Primrose caught it with one of the spell-sponge gloves. 'I think we have ourselves a duel here,' she remarked. Mezrielda moved forwards, sending another burst of green towards her enemy. By the fourth time, Bagsy's concern was beginning to grow; the spell sponge gloves were glowing more and more by the second. They weren't designed to absorb so much power.
'Careful!' Bagsy cautioned after a pause, finding her tongue amongst the flashes of magic and swiftly blocking hands. Primrose wasn't anywhere near as co-ordinated as Bagsy, but she was managing fairly well. 'I don't know what happens when the gloves get overloaded!'
Primrose and Mezrielda had been circling each other as the spells from Mezrielda's wand increased in pace, but Primrose suddenly stopped in her tracks, looking concerned. 'Overloaded?' she asked, before turning her palms towards herself and looking down at them. Her fearful face was lit up by the glow of the gloves. 'Oh shi-' Primrose turned her hands away from her face at the last second, as the light within them burned brighter than the lightning had. With a thunderous boom, and a harsh shock wave, a beam of light shot in a straight line out of Primrose's hands, reaching through the trees and towards Hogwarts castle.
Bagsy found herself flung backwards onto the floor by Mezrielda, who pulled her out of the way of the harsh laser of light. Some of it caught on Mezrielda's robe, singing the fabric on her shoulder instantly. Once the light was gone and their eyes fought against the darkness once more, they saw Primrose sitting limply against a tree at the edge of the clearing where the force of the blast must have thrown her.
'Is she...?' Bagsy gasped, only for Primrose to groan and get back to her feet, swaying on her way.
'That was much louder than the lightning,' Mezrielda commented, her mind already recovered from the shock and racing with calculations. 'And it didn't sound natural in the slightest, and that light seemed to travel all the way to the front door of Hogwarts. Any professor worth a grain of salt will know that was something magical. We don't have long. We must vacate the area.'
Bagsy nodded as Mezrielda helped her to her feet. 'Your shoulder,' she said numbly.
Mezrielda glanced down at her exposed skin. It was slightly burnt. 'I'll deal with that later. We have more pressing matters at hand.'
'You're damn right you do!' Primrose spoke up, clutching the side of her head painfully. Miraculously, Bagsy's spell-sponge gloves had remained intact and on Primrose's hands, merely smoking a bit.
'Enough non-verbal magic nonsense,' Mezrielda grumbled. 'I've got to finish this.' She levelled her wand at Primrose, who was still dazed even if her eyes looked at them with focussed malice. 'Obliviate!'
Primrose didn't bother blocking it. Instead, she meekly let her weakened body fall to the ground, the spell shooting over her head and evaporating after some travel time. Primrose let out a pained groan, rolled onto her other side and struggled to her hands and knees. 'You can't even hit someone who's experienced the equivalent of being trampled by a centaur,' she snickered in her delirium.
Primrose's taunting merely washed over Bagsy, who was focussed on the tip of Mezrielda's wand, which was glowing a faint green from the spell it had just cast. She heard Tod's voice in her head, dragging her memories from her mind, ignoring her cries of protest, not caring that she was helpless and at his mercy. He had all the power and without a second thought he had lorded his memory thieving capabilities over her. 'No,' Bagsy found her voice working. 'No, don't!' she pleaded with Mezrielda.
Mezrielda spared a look over her shoulder at Bagsy, her eyes tinged with confusion.
Primrose seemed equally terrified as her slowed mind finally realised that the spell Mezrielda was casting was obliviate. 'How dare you...' she growled like a feral animal. 'Don't touch my memories! My mind is none of your business!' There was a panic beneath the outrage that seemed to throw Mezrielda. 'Just make me an Animagus and we can all go back to bed and pretend this never happened! I'll leave you alone, you'll never have to bother with me again, just do what I'm asking you it's not that hard!' Primrose's voice was an angry hiss by this point.
Mezrielda stood, her wand pointed at Primrose, completely silent. She looked at Bagsy, then at Primrose, and then at Bagsy again. She seemed, for once, to have no idea what to do. 'Bagsy, please,' she murmured to her. 'I can't afford to get in trouble.'
'There's another way,' Bagsy affirmed, taking the vial from Mezrielda that contained the Animagus potion.
'Bagsy, no,' Mezrielda protested. 'We don't know what-'
'I know what I'm doing!' Bagsy lied, pulling some swift scales from her robe. She already had a recipe forming in her mind and tried her best to focus on that instead of Tod's impassive, cold face as he stole her memories from her. She walked over to Primrose, who was now sitting on her knees, looking up at Bagsy quietly.
'It's dangerous to meddle in transfiguration this way,' Mezrielda tried again. 'It's not like Potions, you can't take short cuts or reinvent the wheel when it comes to changing one thing into another.'
Bagsy hesitated. She'd already added the swift scales and was thinking on what else may make this potion work for Primrose, but already she was beginning to clear her fog of fear, brushing the image of Tod aside, and see how silly she was being. She recalled Fitzsimmons warning about experimenting with magic in dangerous ways and realised Mezrielda was right.
Her moment of distraction must have shown, as Primrose's hand darted forward, striking at Bagsy's and latching onto the vial.
'Wait! Don't-' Bagsy protested, but Primrose had already secured the potion from her. Bagsy lunged forwards as Primrose brought the vial to her lips and began to drink, the moment stretching out in Bagsy's mind. She was dimly aware of Mezrielda's voice casting obliviate in panic behind her.
Then, as Bagsy collided with Primrose, and the potion was sliding down Primrose's throat, and the obliviate spell hit them both, Bagsy's world faded to black.