Fred and George watched intently as Percy popped a smooth red gummy in his mouth. He chewed it warily twice before swallowing. Expecting something much more Bertie-Botts Every Flavored Bean taste, he was pleasantly surprised at the sweet strawberry taste on his tongue. Then suddenly, a feeling of immense pressure built up at his nose, and blood began to trickle down both nostrils and onto the enchanted rags Fred had shoved beneath him before they began to experiment.
George couldn't have looked more delighted. "Perfect!" He crowed, pushing a lime-colored gummy in Percy's hand, avoiding the blood. Percy swallowed the lime gummy and the nosebleed stopped.
Jason watched in disapproval. "You know the last time you had a nosebleed, you woke up Mother Earth," he said.
Percy wiped an excess drop away and picked up the blood-spotted rag. "I know," he said. "That's why I'm buying extra of the remedies they have. Just needed to make sure it worked first."
He fist-bumped the twins.
Hermione was scowling on the armchair next to Ron and Harry, but didn't do anything until the twins turned to the rest of the common room.
"Okay, if you're testing for number 223, please come up now!" George announced. Three or four first years stood up and made their way over to them. Hermione stood up as well, and marched over firmly. She stood silently behind the twins, her arms folded, a scowl on her face as she waited for them to turn around. If they knew she was behind them (which they most definitely did), they didn't do anything until the first-years began to drop one by one on the armchairs or the carpeted floor.
"Ah hem," Hermione cleared her throat in a very annoyed fashion. Fred turned around and feigned surprise.
"Oh, hullo Hermione, fancy seeing you here." He and George grinned at each other before continuing to put the reverse gummies in the first years mouths.
"Feeling alright?" George asked a first year kindly.
"I — I think so," she said shakily.
"Excellent," Fred said happily.
"It is NOT excellent!" Hermione exclaimed angrily, snatching the clipboard and bag of candies from their hands.
"'Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?" Fred asked angrily.
"You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?"
"We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them on ourselves — this is just to see if everyone else reacts the same —"
"If you don't stop, I'm going to —"
"Put us in detention?" Fred laughed.
"Make us write lines?" George added, smirking.
No one could stifle their laughter much as they watched the trio. Hermione drew herself up to her full height, narrowed her eyes, and said in a deadly serious voice, "No, but I will write to your mother."
The Weasleys laughter stopped abruptly.
"You wouldn't," a very horrified George said, taking a step back.
"Oh yes I would," said Hermione.
Percy tentatively tapped Hermione on the shoulder. "Erm... don't you think that's a bit too harsh? It's just a few gummies, after all," he said.
Hermione gathered up the clipboard and bag and swept over to their group.
"Thanks for your help, Ron," she said acidly.
Ron shrugged, not making eye contact. "You were fine on your own," he mumbled.
Thalia rolled her eyes. "Remind me again how you're a Gryffindor Prefect?" she said.
Ron shrugged again. "I dunno. Hey, Annabeth, reckon you could do my moonstone essay for me?" He pleaded.
Annabeth shook her head. "That'll make eighty-three things you owe me," she said.
"Hey, 'Mione —" Ron began, but Thalia cut him off.
"It's simple," she said shortly. "In contrast to the name, moonstones are not found on the moon. They usually have a smooth, gray-white complexion with silvery veins running through them. Moonstones are obtained by muggles but the moonstones we use in magic and other otherworldly routines can't be harvested by normal humans. In our case with Hogwarts, the stones can be used in potions or just as a natural good-luck-charm since it gives off a weak aura of intuition, inspiration, success, and good fortune. To leech the stronger effects, you have to —"
Ron was madly scribbling away at his parchment, brow furrowed. Annabeth and Hermione shared equally exasperated glances before Hermione continued her brisk departure with the Weasley's confiscated goods in her hands.
>>>•Leo•<<<
"Have you fixed your machines yet?" Harry asked Leo anxiously in a low voice.
Leo shrugged helplessly. He'd tried re-wiring every single possible inch of every single machine he worked on, but they always seemed to end up self-destructing. Stupid magic, meddling with everything. How was he supposed to do anything without his tools? If only Calypso went with him on this quest, she was an expert at magic, but Hecate kept her back at Camp Half Blood. It was infuriating, finally rescuing her only to be separated for another bajillion years or more probably.
"I dunno," he said in response.
"Well, d'you think you can create some sort of diversion at least?" Harry asked more desperately. "I can't risk getting kicked off the Gryffindor team. Angelina's furious that I got detention today, we're supposed to have keeper tryouts in two minutes."
Leo pursed his lips. As much as he hated sorcery, he could proficiently produce some sparks here or there. "I can try," he said. Harry nodded.
"That'll have to do," he said. "It doesn't even have to be long. Make her chase you around the castle if you have to."
Leo grinned. "Don't worry, sonny," he said, patting Harry's back as they approached the door. "Uncle Leo's got your back."
Harry smiled gratefully — an expression Leo hadn't seen on his face, ever. Harry slipped down a side corridor to the Quidditch pitch, and Leo paused in front of Trollbridge's door.
He knocked.
"Come in," a sickly sweet voice came from the room. Leo pushed open the door and nearly had a heart failure.
The entire room was covered in pink. The walls were pink, the carpet on the ground was pink, the toad in the middle of the room was pink—wait, that was Umbridge. A gentle meowing was drawn to Leo's ears, probably from the photos after photos of cats that lined— no, covered the walls.
Trollbridge cleared her throat. "Well, sit down, dearie."
Leo sat, and her eyes narrowed. Her smile hardened until it was nearly made of stone carved in her fat face.
"Where's Harry?" She asked as if inquiring in concern for him.
Leo kept his face neutral. "He's in the bathroom. Ate something funny in potions, probably that boar's eye." Leo shook his head sadly. "I told him not to eat it if it was round, slimy, and brownish-yellow, and yet here we are."
Trollbridge's smile didn't change. "Ah, of course. We can wait for him. In the meantime, are you thirsty? Would you like some tea? Milk? Water? Pumpkin juice?"
"Um, water's fine," Leo said, bewildered. Trollbridge waved her wand and a very sketchy pitcher flew up from under her desk. A flask was conjured in front of Leo, and she poured the 'water' into the flask.
"Drink up," she said, tapping the flask. She folded her stubby hands and watched as Leo picked up the cup gingerly and raised it to his lips.
Leo let the liquid splash his lips but didn't drink it. She didn't seriously think she was being sneaky, did she? He wondered.
"Drink," she demanded all the more pushy. Leo decided he'd better drink before Umbridge forced it down his throat, and sipped cautiously. It tasted like nothing, and for a moment he wondered if it really was water. But then suddenly, a warm feeling enveloped him, and Leo slumped back in his seat. The feeling was so pleasant, like he was in a nice, calming bonfire.
"Tell me now, dear. Where's Harry?" The voice was soothing and gentle, but it grated on Leo's ears.
At quidditch practice, Leo thought. But he clamped his mouth shut, refusing to speak. Then suddenly, the haze cleared somewhat, enough for Leo to control his mouth at least.
"Throwing up his guts in the bathroom," said Leo drowsily, fully under the impression that he must've looked as drunk as Nico when the Stolls switched his water with tequila.
"Of course," Trollbridge said. She pushed the cup towards Leo again. "Drink some more water. Now tell me again —" she said as Leo raised the cup to his lips.
"Fat... toad..." Leo muttered as a new wave of warmth spread over him.
Trollbridge's face flushed a dark red, and she bared her pointed teeth. "Enough idle talk," She said, catching her voice from a snarl to that sickly sweet tone just in time. "Your detention, dear, is going to be spent writing lines."
She pushed a sharp black quill and a paper towards Leo, her teeth bared in a smile. "Now, I want you to write, I will be respectful to authority." She put emphasis on authority.
Leo picked up the quill and shook his head to clear the warm feeling and pressed the feather to the paper.
I... will... No sooner had Leo wrote those two words on the paper that an annoying prickle scratched on his hand. Dropping the quill in surprise, he stared at his hand. Shining brilliantly against his skin were the words I will. The words vanished into a rough red mark, and Leo looked up to find Trollbridge not surprised in the least. She made eye contact before continuing to do something on her desk, probably writing a letter to that head wizard guy. She wasn't watching...
Leo began to write.
All... da... ladies... luv... Leo
All... da... ladies... luv... Leo
All... da... ladies... luv... Leo