I found Everett waiting for me just outside the women's locker rooms. The women's locker rooms would go unused this year due to the Quidditch gender ban.
"Oh, good, you made it-" He choked on his words when I drew my wand and pointed it at his throat.
"Let me make myself perfectly clear," I pressed the tip of my wand to his Adam's apple. "If you are planning anything funny, which I assure you I will most certainly not find funny, I will turn your larynx into a very, very small duck. You will be quacking until the birth of your first child."
Everett's glasses were about to topple off his face. "Prisma! Prisma, please. There's no need for threats. We're friends. House mates."
I didn't remove my wand from his throat just yet. "Andrew Larson saw you out of bed the night Morgana died. I need to know what exactly you were doing, and who you saw."
Everett's eyes narrowed before they widened. "Oh, god. You think I had something to do with Morgana's death? She didn't like me, I'll admit, but that doesn't mean I want to kill the woman."
"Then what were you doing sneaking around?"
A nearby rustling in the dark caught my attention. We weren't alone.
Just as I was about to stun the intruder, Everett yelled, "Wait, it's Imelda!"
Imelda Reyes, 6th year Slytherin and flying champion, had joined us in the small walkway outside the Quidditch restrooms.
"Sorry I'm late," the stern-faced girl said, removing her dark green Slytherin hood.
I was floored. Imelda was Everett's alibi.
I lowered my wand. So, Everett and Imelda had been having secret meet-ups, and that's why he couldn't tell anyone. "Wow. I'm so happy for you two," I said.
"It's not what you think," Imelda immediately shot down my assumption. "Everett, show her the toilet."
"Wha-"
I don't know why, but I followed them into the women's Quidditch restroom, where Everett opened the very last stall. Atop the toilet was a cauldron.
I recognized the greenish appearance and fruity smell from potions class. "You two have been brewing polyjuice potion?" I asked in disbelief.
"After women were banned from participating in Quidditch, I knew I had to figure something out," Imelda said. "I considered freezing Lord Bart in ice for a year. Or turning him into a snail."
My mouth shot open. "So you're going to use polyjuice potion to turn into Lord Bart and un-ban women from Quidditch?"
"No. Although, that wouldn't be a bad idea." Imelda looked at Everett. "Why didn't you think of that?"
Everett chimed in. "Look, I don't want to play Quidditch anymore. Especially not with the new Quidditch coach, Lord Fart. But, I like the perks, like getting to skip class and having extra time on assignments. And I knew that Imelda wanted to play on a team. So I thought we could help each other out."
"I will take a bit of polyjuice potion every Quidditch game and turn myself into Everett Clopton, Ravenclaw beater," Imelda said with glee. "I'm so excited. I'll finally get to play!"
"On a team that's not yours," I pointed out.
"I'm going to pretend to be a man for six hours a week. Switching teams is really not such a big deal compared to that."
It was a pretty risky plan. I understood now why they had to sneak around. It would be a huge deal if anyone else knew about this.
"But- Everett's not that good of a player," I winced. If he was suddenly a fantastic rider, people would get suspicious.
"Hey," Everett pouted.
Imelda wasn't worried. "I'll dumb down some of my moves to make myself seem amateur. I'll be riding his broom, as well, which is nowhere near as nice as mine."
"Is this shit on Everett day? I'm helping you out by keeping this huge secret! It's damn near gotten me in trouble already," Everett complained.
I was certain Everett had a solid alibi. If he was with Imelda the night of Morgana's murder making the polyjuice potion, there's no way he could have been anywhere near Morgana's murder.
"Everett, you tend to pick up on a lot of castle gossip, don't you?" I asked.
"Totally," Everett said. "For example, did you know that Professor Hecat's teeth aren't real? She lost them in a bad gelatin charm incident-"
"Do you know of a man who may have been interested in Morgana last year?" I asked. "I'm trying to find out more about her dating history."
Everett thought for a second. "I don't know about Morgana specifically, but before he got engaged, I saw Leander Prewett with a different girl in Hogsmeade every weekend."
"Leander would take them to Honeyduke's," Imelda chimed in. "They'd buy him sweets, and he'd be sweet on them, if you know what I mean."
Leander Prewett. There was my next lead.
"Sorry for bugging you, Everett," I apologized. "Thanks for trusting me with your secret. I promise I won't tell anyone."
As I was about to leave, Imelda stopped me. "Not so fast."
Everett had a devilish grin on his face. "The first Quidditch practice is tomorrow. We need someone to test the potion."
Oh, no. So there was a price for their secret.
"Alright, then. That's only fair." I agreed to try the polyjuice potion. If Everett brewed it, there was a good chance that it was made correctly. However, in the chance that it wasn't, I could expect vomiting, pain, and boils on my face for up to twelve hours. I tried not to think about that and downed a spoonful of the sticky green liquid.
Imelda and Everett watched as my facial features moved, contorting my narrow nose into a bulbous one, rounding my cheeks and thickening my neck. My hair turned from milky white to walnut brown, and curled into thick ringlets all around my head. I suddenly shot up in height as well.
"Oh, dear," I said as my dress ripped at the shoulders. "You wouldn't happen to have a change of clothes?"
Fortunately, they had been collecting men's clothes for a while. They put me in Everett's brown pants, white button-up and a blue vest. I removed my "Prisma" glasses and put them in my pocket.
"Fantastic!" Imelda cheered. "You look great. That will be me tomorrow, riding on a broom." She seemed genuinely giddy at the thought of turning into Everett Clopton. I couldn't relate. I just wanted to return to Ravenclaw Tower and wait for the potion to wear off in the common room.
Satisfied with their experiment, they let me leave while they discussed the logistics of practice tomorrow. I trudged through the grass towards the castle in some stranger's brown loafers.
"Clopton."
Coming towards me from the shadows of the castle was none other than Sebastian Sallow. My heart began to race, and beads of sweat formed on my brow. Is this how Everett feels when he's anxious? Not very pleasant.
I cleared my throat. "S-Sebastian."
Sebastian gave me an odd look. "What's wrong with you?"
"Well, you see-" Just as I was about to tell him I had taken polyjuice potion, he angrily interrupted me.
"No, I mean, what is wrong with you, thinking that it was okay to ask Prisma out here all alone?" Sebastian frowned. "Do you not care about ruining a lady's reputation? Or is it that you don't even see her as a lady?"
My throat became dry. Sebastian really thought I was Everett.
"Listen for a minute. It's not like that-"
"I don't want to hear it, Clopton," Sebastian said. "You're lucky someone as kind as Prisma even trusts you. Seriously. If it was up to me, I would have cut your hair off the first chance I had."
Sebastian was terrifying. As Prisma, I didn't get to see this side of him. It made me realize just how differently he treated me than everyone else.
"Where is she?" Sebastian demanded. "If I find her hanging by her ankle somewhere with her knickers on display, I'm peeling your fingernails off."
I forgot that I wasn't Everett Clopton for a second, and felt real, genuine horror. "She's fine," I assured him, my voice trembling. "She actually already left to go back to Ravenclaw Tower."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed. My heart was beating so hard I thought I was going to pass out.
"Goodnight, Clopton." He said, striding away.
I had to catch my breath. Confronting Sebastian was not a spot I wanted to be in, ever. If he was willing to peel someone's fingers off just for me- he was an incredibly loyal friend. An incredibly scary one, as well.
Author's note
This storyline is one of my favorites. A long time ago I had an idea for a crossdressing Quidditch player, so I'm happy I could fit it into this fanfic.
So, Andrew Larson's not the culprit, neither is Everett Clopton. Will Leander Prewett be the one? Or is it another disappointing dead end? -kittyhawk