The pear let out a burst of guffaws before letting the portrait swing open. As usual, a multitude of elves were scuttling around frantically in their meal preparations. From the fray, one of them broke rank to eagerly greet Heather, George and Fred as they stepped through the portrait hole.
"Mistress Heather! What be Mistress and her twinsies needing? Dobby is being happy to help!" The little elf's eyes were practically shining in excitement at the thought of an order.
Heather and Hadrian rarely enlisted the help of their bonded elf during the school term since students weren't allowed to bring their own help. Technically, Dobby was under the employ of Hogwarts while school was in session. It made Dobby happy to have so much to do even when no one was living in the Nest. However, this prank of theirs required special aid.
"Hello Dobby, how are you doing today?" Heather asked. Umbridge had been especially horrid to the elves as of late. Particularly because they couldn't and wouldn't clear the entire castle of all things feline. Though a part of it was purely because the toad was a bigoted shrew who thought all creatures were to be eradicated or, at least, denigrated to nothing more than slaves.
"Bitchy be shouting at all the elfs, Mistress, but Dobby not be taking it, no Dobby is not!" Dobby said irately. Then, with a sly smile, he added, "Dobby puts all of the kitty pictures in Bitchy's room. Bitchy is very scared of poor little kitties."
The three of them snickered at the Dobby's epithet for the toad as well as his payback. The elf, for his part, merely looked smug at getting back at Umbridge. Yes, Dobby would be perfect for this job.
"Yeah, that's kind of why we're here, Dobby. How would you feel about helping us prank Umbridge?" Heather asked, winking at the elf when he giggled evilly at the suggestion.
"We need you to help us put this," Fred said as George waved one of several large phials of orange liquid, "in the pudding for tonight's dinner."
There was a high-pitched squeak at that before another elf ran forwards. "Elfs not be allowed to put nasty potions in the food, Miss Heather!"
Heather noted with surprise that she recognised this elf. "Mipsy! It's been a while." She said that sentence with a slight bit of guilt. Between all that had been going on in recent years, she had rarely taken the time to come visit her friend. She resolved to correct that. It was the least she could do after Mipsy had helped her so much, after all.
Dobby turned to the newcomer with an inordinately large smile on his face, practically vibrating in his excitement. "Yous be the elf that helped Dobby's Mistress and Master? Dobby thanks pretty Mipsy a hundred, no, million times!"
Mipsy turned a dark shade, averting her eyes. "Mipsy was just doing her job, she was! Dobby is too nice!"
Fred and George both nudged her, waggling their eyebrows suggestively. Heather laughed a little at the interaction, but had to interrupt. They did sort of have a reason for coming here today.
"Anyway, Mipsy, you don't have to worry about the prank. I made sure that none of the people in the castle are allergic to anything in the potion and it has no harmful effects."
A year or two ago, Fred and George had actually accidentally triggered an allergic reaction in one of their targets with their Belching Mixture. Thankfully, the student had had their medicine on hand, otherwise it could have ended badly. Because of that, Heather had asked for a list of allergens for the whole student population from Madam Pomfrey on the pretext of the potions she brewed for the infirmary. It was much easier than the twins' idea of sneaking in and stealing it. Anyway, since then, they hadn't encountered such an incident again. So Heather was very certain that none of the students would come to harm in this prank.
Despite her reassurance, Mipsy didn't really look very convinced.
Fred and George chimed in to try and persuade the elf. "The potion's effects will only last an hour-"
"-at most! And the butt of the joke is-"
"-only Umbridge, not any students."
"She's a nasty little bitch-"
"-isn't she? Always yelling at you elves!"
The little elf now looked more tempted
"She's been hurting the students, y'know?"
"Don't you want her to get payback for that?"
Now, a determined glint entered Mipsy's eyes. It seemed that all it took for her to cave was the mention of the students being threatened.
"Miss Heather and Misters Weasley can be giving potion to Mipsy. Mipsy be putting the potion for yous in the pudding!" She thrust her hand out eagerly to take the crate of phials. She cradled the proffered crate reverently in her arms, muttering, "Mipsy be showing Bitchy not to mess with her students, yes Mipsy bes doing that!" With that, Mipsy flounced off with a disturbingly high cackle.
Heather was at once both impressed and unnerved by the bloodthirsty look Mipsy sported as she turned away.
~~~
It was with hidden smirks that Heather, Fred and George attended dinner that day. They couldn't wait to see the look Umbridge's face when their prank unfolded. They had even set up wizarding cameras in various locations of the Great Hall that were specifically locked in on the old toad.
She patiently sat through the first part of the evening, serving herself a hearty meal of steak and roasted vegetables. No one would suspect anything afoot from watching her calmly eat her meal. Of course, this was to be expected from any self-respecting Slytherin or prankster.
Finally, the much-anticipated portion of the meal arrived. The dessert plates started to pop up on the table, courtesy of the house elves. She didn't bother to hide her glee as she got a huge serving of treacle tart for herself. Her sweet tooth was no secret from her fellow students, but little did they know, her enthusiasm tonight was hardly to do with the sugary confection placed before her.
Without a single hint of hesitation, she devoured the treacle tart. She noted with great amusement that Fred and George had dared the guys around them to an impromptu eating contest and were currently wolfing down on large slices of chocolate cake. Around her, most of the students had started digging in to their own desserts. Only a scant few of them refrained, she was pleased to note.
By her estimate, she just had to wait a few more minutes for the potion to come into effect. It would typically work immediately, but George had had the foresight to make the potion have a delayed onset to ensure more people would consume it before it showed effect. Not long now...
Heather surreptitiously flicked her fingers towards all the entrances, locking them heavily to prevent escape. Thank Salazar for her great timing, because just as she did so, Dumbledore sensed the magic being cast but was distracted by the first transformation of the night.
Shrieks erupted from the Gryffindor table as Ronald Weasley bent over himself before growing fur and morphing into a human-sized, orange...cat.
Heather couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It figured that the boy would be the first, seeing as he guzzled down food with the speed of a starving street urchin.
The Professors all stood in alarm at the sudden transformation, Professor McGonagall being the first to move towards her lions. Meanwhile, Umbridge screamed in horror, backing away.
Of course, Ron was just the first of many. Moments after he finished his transformation, a commotion started up a short distance away from her own seat. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, two boys in Draco's posse, had begun their own descent into felinity. As if a casting a chain spell, more and more people started turning into cats. It wasn't long before Heather felt her own change taking place.
It was a bizarre feeling to have her body stretch into a different shape. She wondered if this felt like an animagus transformation or was it different, since it was triggered by an external magic.
By the time she was fully feline, most of the occupants of the Great Hall were in a similar state. Only the small handful who had not partaken in any pudding were spared. Except, of course, for Umbridge, whom they had specifically made sure had untampered dessert.
Smirking like the cat who'd gotten the cream (pun intended), she stood on her four limbs and stretched sinuously. Ahh, a cat's flexibility really was amazing. She ignored the manically yowling giant cats around her and casually slinked towards her fellow accomplices, who had turned into orange bobtailed cats.
As she made her way there, she noted with great amusement that even most of the Professors had become victim to their prank. Professor McGonagall had turned into a larger version of her animagus form, and interestingly enough couldn't seem to turn back. Professor Flitwick was an adorable little munchkin while Hagrid was a gigantic shaggy maine coon. Perhaps most hilariously (and impossibly) was Headmaster Dumbledore, who was now a garish rainbow-coloured calico.
Their transformation hadn't stopped them trying to fix the situation, of course. Though their methods had now taken a very creative turn. The Gryffindor Head of House was now sternly nipping at the ears of misbehaving kittens – err, students – and even grabbing one by the scruff when that didn't work. Hagrid, bless him, had taken to frantically scratching at the doors like an actual cat begging to be let out in his attempt to free everyone.
It was a mystery where Professor Snape had disappeared to, however, though Heather didn't put it past him to have slunk off into a shadowed corner to wait out the potion's effects.
Throughout all this, Umbridge had been slowly backing herself against the furthest wall to get as much distance as she could from all these cats as possible. Heather growled lowly in her throat at that. What a stupid woman, she was only trapping herself. Once she had found Fred and George, she nudged her head against their chins. She had been aiming for their heads, but even in cat form she was much shorter than them.
While she did not have quite the level of wordless communication with them that they had with each other, she supposed the light in her eyes had conveyed her intentions successfully. They both purred in agreement and homed in on Umbitch who had gone white with fear. And psychosomatic pain, but no one but them needed to know.
A few others stopped to stare at the three of them as they all but sauntered along, tails raised high in glee. It soon became obvious where they were headed, and more importantly, whothey were headed towards. The sharper ones were quick to realise the real target of tonight's prank. It didn't take long for most of the school to remember Umbridge's recent attitude towards cats.
In fact, a quick glance told Heather that they had garnered quite a following on their trek across the Great Hall. It wasn't even them leading the group now. Some of the more enthusiastic students were at the helm, all of them taking the relative anonymity being a cat afforded them to taunt Umbridge.
Right now, the toad was surrounded on all sides by towering cats, all baying for her blood. Perhaps literally, in Heather's own case. She had, after all, put all that effort into the spells for the blood quills. By now, Umbridge likely had a sizeable collection of scars all over her body. It was just a pity that they weren't anywhere visible.
Heather just sat back on her haunches to enjoy the show, content to watch the others do the work for her like the Slytherin she was. Fred and George, of course, leapt into the fray with yowls loud enough to deafen.
~~~
It took the Professors over an hour to finally settle all the chaos. It mostly took so long only because no one could use their wands while in feline form. In the end, it was Headmaster Dumbledore's skill with wandless magic that turned the tides.
Once he had managed to turn himself back, he quickly helped the other Professors do the same. After that, it was a simple matter to reverse the changes for all of the students.
By then, Umbridge was little more than a drooling pile of limbs on the floor, having passed out from fright a while ago.
"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! MY OFFICE, NOW!" Professor McGonagall screamed, pointing them towards the – now unlocked – doors like they were errant children. Her hair was, for once, not in its tight bun, but messy and half-unwound and her eyes were all but bulging out of their sockets. She looked quite mad.
Meanwhile, the other teachers began checking for injuries and sending people back to their dormitories. Heather stifled a laugh as she joined a group of her housemates to leave the hall.
However, she was stopped in her tracks by her two traitorous friends, who each had an arm around her.
"Whoa there, Heather-"
"-hold your thestrals."
"You're not getting out of-"
"-this so easily."
With that, they determinedly frog-marched her in the direction of Professor McGonagall's office.
She struggled lightly, mostly for show. "Aren't you supposed to be covering for me? Taking all the blame so I don't get in trouble? House of the chivalrous and noble and all that?"
"Look at that-" Fred started, faking shock.
"-you must have rubbed off on-"
"-us, little snake."
Heather chuckled, ceasing her fidgeting. Most of her weight was currently being supported by them, after all. She didn't want to dislodge their hands and fall. By the time they arrived, her arms were aching something fierce, though not as fierce as the glower on a certain teacher's face.
Facing an irate Professor McGonagall was a little like being put on the death row.
"You as well, Miss Potter?" the elderly witch said with frustration.
She bit her lip to keep from smiling, though she could tell she hadn't fooled anyone. "Yes, Professor," she settled for saying.
"Well, I never, in all my years of teaching..." the Professor began furiously, posture stiff as a statue.
"...trouble of the largest scale in Hogwarts' history..."
"...have a mind to give years worth of detention..."
"...will be scrubbing the floors till they gleam..."
"...and! And you all-"
To Heather's mixed shock and delight, George took the chance to cut in on Professor McGonagall's rant.
"But it was hilarious, wasn't it?" George said, waggling his brows.
Fred the pounced in as well. "Did you see how Umbridge fainted?"
Of course, how then could Heather resist adding, "I dare say she relieved herself when she passed out." Smirking, she tacked on, "If you catch my meaning."
.
.
.
Silence.
Professor McGonagall merely stared at all three of them, not saying a word. The tension built and built until, abruptly, she seemed to sag, leaning backwards onto her chair. Closing her eyes, she muttered wearily, "Go, just go!" She made a sharp dismissive gesture with a hand while the other came up to massage her temple.
"Good night, Professor McGonagall!" they chorused before escaping.
Unbeknownst to them, the moment she was left alone in her office Minerva's stern visage melted away quicker than a snitch. She descended into helpless cackles as she recalled the previous hour.
"I'll need to borrow Albus' pensieve to watch this again for the next time the daft woman gets on my nerves," she said breathlessly, between peals of laughter.
"Fifty – haha! – points to Gryffindor – ahaha! – and Slytherin!"
~~~
It had been a week since what Fred and George fondly called the 'Toady Cat-astrophe' and Umbridge had still not surfaced from her room. Madam Pomfrey had told Heather that the toad fled the infirmary the moment she woke, without so much as a word of appreciation for the matron. The whole castle was having a holiday in her absence, with the real Alastor Moody being called in to substitute for Defence.
Even now, the incident was still being talked about with much glee amongst the students. What made this even better was that the Professors were all turning a deaf ear to this outright slander of their colleague. Even adding to it privately, Heather suspected. (She had noticed the extra points to Slytherin and Gryffindor after their scolding from Professor McGonagall.)
She, Fred and George had laughed their heads off after they left the Deputy Headmistress' office. Not only had they not gotten any detention, they'd actually received points.
Furthermore, this venture might be their most lucrative yet.
It was only after the chaos had died down that day that they remembered the camera they had charmed to take pictures of Umbridge. Selling the photos at five sickles a pop was making them quite the killing. And, it helped the twins to promote their future joke shop, since they marketed the photos together with several of their products.
The bestseller was, of course, the Kitty Kandies, little sweets that contained a weaker form of the potion they had used for their prank. It even outsold the original Canary Creams that Fred and George had based the Kitty Kandy potion on.
Fred and George were well on their way to developing a good customer base for when they eventually set up their shop.
Just because Umbridge was in self-imposed isolation didn't mean that all of Heather's problems were solved, however. She had been keeping an ear out for news on her brother since their argument and what she heard wasn't encouraging in the least.
Hadrian was getting increasingly short-tempered and distant, often spacing out during lessons. His grades had suffered and a few Professors had already come to her for aid. She was just as helpless as they were and had no idea what Hadrian's problem was. Her brother had never been this irritable before, having always been a relatively happy child despite the Dursleys. It was like a Nox had been cast.
If only they hadn't had that fight! Heather was fairly certain that any attempts on her part to reconcile now would only serve to further sour Hadrian's mood. That Potter stubbornness really was such a nuisance sometimes! The most she could do right now was watch over him from afar and ask Dobby to discreetly take care of him.
~~~
Unfortunately, Umbridge couldn't stay holed up forever. She eventually showed herself in public again two weeks after her ordeal. Not only that, she emerged armed with a fresh Educational Decree banning all feline-related activity anywhere she could see or hear. To say her reappearance was greeted with frowns would be a massive understatement.
It was only fortunate that she didn't manage to banish all felines from the castle entirely, by virtue of the common wizarding tradition of having cat familiars. She wouldn't have been able to squeak that past the Education Board.
It was on the third day of the toad's reintegration to polite society that things started to heat up again. To Heather's sheer and utter delight, a blood red smattering of words started to carve themselves into the skin of Umbitch's forearm in the middle of lunch that day. The sentence was in clear view of anyone near her, who obviously included the staff members. Starkly, incriminatingly, the words read:
'I must not whine childishly in class.'
Well, okay, the words weren't all that incriminating when taken out of context, but she had the feeling that that would soon be addressed.
Immediately, several things happened at once.
First, Umbridge shrieked in pain at the feeling of her flesh being gouged into. That was always entertaining to watch.
Second, Madam Pomfrey (indeed, most of the Professors) leapt to their feet, ready to treat anyone in need. Even if the patient in question was an abhorrent, bigoted, nasty shrew of a witch. And that was one reason why Heather could never enter the healing profession.
Last, whispers from those closest to the staff table travelled quicker than a hex down the rows of students until one particular girl heard the situation and gasped loudly in shock. Said girl was a third year Puff, one Amethyst Fairfax, who had, presumedly, been the victim of having that line for her detentions.
Of course, Heather only found this out from Fred and George later, along with the fact that Fairfax had mustered the courage to report the situation to Professor Sprout. She had been accompanied by her loyal housemates, most of them who had also felt the sting of Umbridge's blood quill.
Predictably, this incited other victims to speak up, some brave few (mostly Gryffs) even showing their scars. The next few days were filled with dozens of students going in and out of their Heads of House's offices to report Umbridge.
Not one to miss out on an opportunity to get the toad into more trouble, Heather obviously made plans for a visit to Professor Snape herself. What she didn't expect was for several of her younger housemates to tag along. She'd thought that they would want to keep their torment to themselves for the sake of their pride, but clearly their vindictiveness towards Umbitch won out.
With Heather today were most of the first and second year Slytherins, all of whom had accrued detention with Umbridge for one reason or another and forced to use the blood quill. When they were allowed entry to the office, Heather could immediately tell that the man was in a Bad Mood.
"Sit down, all of you," Professor Snape snapped impatiently, casually whipping his wand and conjuring enough chairs for them all.
One by one, each student spoke up about their experience in detention with Umbridge and were asked to provide proof. Of course, none of them had physical scars remaining (though emotional ones were debatable) having used Heather's Murtlap Essence. In lieu of that, most consented to providing memories. Heather was the last to be asked and she made sure to give a memory that showcased Umbridge in the worst possible light.
At the end of it all, Professor Snape dismissed them all but her, demanding in a forbidding tone that she stay behind. The kids gave her sympathetic glances as they hurried off, though she smiled at them comfortingly. They didn't know that Professor Snape didn't actually hate her, after all.
Once the door swung shut, the man's formidable glare melted into a more neutral expression. One she might actually describe as soft, knowing him as well as she did. With a wave of his wand, the extra chairs disappeared and he nodded towards one of the regular office chairs. Her chair, the one she had always used during their Wednesday sessions in the past.
With great relish, she settled into it. It felt a little bit like coming home.
She turned her gaze to Professor Snape, who had watched her all but snuggle into her – well, really his – chair with a tiny quirk to his lips. She raised his chin, daring him to comment. She really loved this chair.
"Cats, Miss Potter? Really?" was what he said instead.
The unexpected statement had her bursting into giggles. Almost everything about this giant prank on Umbridge could fuel her Patronus, honestly.
"Any animal would have done just as well. Using cats simply had the benefit of absolutely ruining something that she loved," Heather said casually, shrugging off the cruel sentiment. She certainly felt no guilt at it.
"Yes, but Minerva's been gloating for weeks now," he muttered lowly. Heather's smile cracked wider at the utterance, but she otherwise pretended not to hear.
"Was there an actual reason that you held me back, or did you only want to complain about being shown up by Professor McGonagall?" Heather knew that coming from any other student, this cheek would earn her detention and 20 points taken off, at least. She was one of the few people who could tease Professor Snape like this and live. As predicted, the man merely sighed and shot her a playful scowl. The reassurance warmed her.
More than that, it made something flutter inside of her. She was special to him.
"I simply wanted to request the use of your modified Murtlap Essence recipe. Poppy has asked me for any potions that can remove the scars from that accursed quill and your formulation is the best that I can tell so far."
The warm feeling grew, and she had to duck her head briefly to hide her blush. It was really flattering that a Master of his calibre thought so highly of her recipe. Obviously, the man would be making his own tweaks to it, but still.
"Of course. You remember it, right? I haven't made any other changes since then." He nodded, as she expected. She had fully expected him to try brewing it after she told him her modifications. She would have done the same, as would any potioneer worth their salt.
"I have several more phials in my stores, if Madam Pomfrey needs them urgently," she added.
"There is no need," Professor Snape said, shaking his head, "A few Aurors will be arriving in a few days to inspect the scarring. As such, the remaining students have consented to waiting until after the investigations to remove their scars."
The thought didn't sit well with her. Why should these poor children have to live with their horrid marks for even a few more days? The pensieve memories were perfectly sufficient, after all. Bloody Ministry. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because the Professor grimaced in response. Unfortunately, there was nothing either of them could do.
After that, Heather was quickly dismissed. She walked off, wistfully missing the times when she could have hung out in the man's office, brewing potions or just talking over tea.