Wyatt Nye's confession left me stumped. What was I to do about him and Parkinson? It now felt impossible. Pansy was infatuated with Malfoy, and Wyatt, well, fancied Amirah Flowers. Sure, inevitably, the Ravenclaw girl would reject him in favour of Isaiah, but a heartbreak took months of mending, which meant months before Tracey, Daphne and I could successfully pair up Pansy with Wyatt.
"You got the potion?" Fred and George asked in unison upon noticing me arrive at the Entrance Hall. For a split-second, I blinked as they disrupted me from my thoughts.
"Of course," I said, drawing the green vial out of my pocket. "It shouldn't taste super strong, but I'd recommend drinking it with banana milk or whatever banana-flavoured drink you have to camouflage any lingering taste."
"Brilliant," Fred said as I handed the potion over to George. "Ivy loves bananas."
"Shall we get going?" George urged gently. Fred and I both nodded, and we trailed into the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table.
"You may eat up, first, little Maeve," Fred said, "while George and I get to the enchantments."
I obliged and took a seat at the table, serving myself some breakfast while the twins scurried around casting spells all over the Great Hall. There was only Professor Vector and Professor Sprout at the staff table this early in the morning, and they both merely glanced uninterestingly at the two Gryffindors who were changing the settings of the Great Hall.
Soon enough, the Hall was adorned with Gryffindor-themed decorations. Every plate and utensil was now coloured gold; Gryffindor banners were hanging on the walls; golden and ruby-coloured balloons floated under the enchanted ceiling of the dawn-hued sky; the words "Most Joyous Birthday, Ivy Law" were glistening and sparkling in gold above and in front of the staff table.
"What's the next part of the prank?" I asked, half-amused, half-giddy.
"Well, I will retreive our victim from their common room. You stay here and guard the decorations with George," Fred said with a wink.
The tall ginger boy sauntered out of the Great Hall, and I stayed behind with his identical brother who bore a goofy grin on his freckly face.
"We really outdid ourselves this time," he said, beaming as he looked around at the magnificient work he did with his brother. More and more students were filing into the Great Hall, few gasped, others whispered, most pretended like nothing had changed.
"So, why green?" I asked, referring to the effect of the potion I gave him.
"We've always said Ivy should have been a Slytherin," George said with a chuckle. I laughed.
"Sorry, but that recklessness and incessant need to prank others: typical Gryffindor behaviour," I countered.
"Sure, but have you seen how twisted her mind is when it comes to pranks? Surely, Ivy is secretly an evil Slytherin," George replied in a fake concerned tone. I laughed uncomfortably, recalling that prank she pulled where she poisoned nearly all of Slytherin House and thought it was funny.
"Please, Slytherins are calculated, sly, and cunning. She's a bit too impulsive, wouldn't you say? Godric would be proud of her, though," I responded, giggling at the idea of Godrick Gryffindor praising Ivy for her impulsivity.
"Oh, sorry, you're right," George said airily. "Please go brew another potion, now. We've made a mistake."
I nudged his arm playfully and laughed along with him.
"OH MY GOD!"
And there she was. Ivy Law. The tall blonde girl exclaimed as she traipsed into the Great Hall, looking at her surroundings with complete awe. George took this as cue to slip in the potion in a cup designated for the girl.
"FRED, YOU IDIOT!" Ivy playfully hit Fred on the arm multiple times. They were slowly inching towards us. "GEORGE! YOU TOO!"
"Let's have a toast," I said, quickly grabbing a mug. George gave the banana milk drink to Ivy.
"Is this banana milk?" she asked, smelling it and beaming.
"Yes, indeed," George said.
"Brilliant!" and before we could actually make a toast, Ivy gulped her drink in one shot. "Blimey, this is so delicious. Oh — The aftertaste is sort of funky... Did you put something in it?"
"Probably expired," I offered, shrugging and resisting the urge to grin too hard as Ivy mindlessly placed her cup on the table.
The effects were nearly instant. Ivy Law's skin was turning bright emerald green. Slightly paler than the green I had intended but still had the desired effect. Her platinum blonde hair framed her green face very awkwardly.
"Huh," George mused. "I thought it tasted fine when I had it."
"Well, in any case," Ivy said rather cheerfully. "Let's eat! I'm starving."
Ivy sat at the table with Fred, joining George and I. We barely had time to say another word before it began. Ivy noticed.
The blonde shrieked instantly upon noticing the colour of her hand as she reached over the table for some marmalade.
"I'M GREEN?!" Ivy exclaimed in a fit of outraged surprise fused with amusement and perplexion.
Fred, George, and I all fell into a pit of eternal laughter. It was hard enough to stiffle our laughter when we saw Ivy turn green, but seeing her reaction to her newfound skincolour was enough to send us over the edge. It was nearly impossible for us to stop laughing, even when Ivy started playfully hitting Fred and George on the arm.
"Oh, yeah, very funny," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "I'll remember your birthdays, you two."
"Oi, Blackwood was involved too! She brewed the potion," George said immediately, gesturing at me with amusement. I couldn't help but gasp.
"Oh, pish posh," I said. "You two were the masterplanners. I was just a tool used to execute your evil scheme."
"Well, then," Ivy said. "I suppose you wouldn't mind me needing you for when I prank these two back."
"Of course, I wouldn't mind," I said with a satisfied smile. "I don't pick sides. It's a pleasure to serve any of you."
"Said like a true servant," Fred pointed out cheekily. I flipped him off, and he cackled with George.
The first thing I did later that day was find Tracey and Daphne and tell them partially about what Wyatt had told me the night before. Of course, I omitted whom it was that he fancied, but the fact still stood, he fancied someone else.
"How are we supposed to get Wyatt to like Pansy if he fancies someone else?" I huffed, discouraged.
"People can be in love with more than one person at once, Maeve," Daphne said as if it were painfully obvious. "We can just help Wyatt develop feelings for Pansy and eventually, when his feelings are much stronger, he'll forget all about that other person."
"Did he say who it was?" Tracey asked as if trying to piece something in her head.
"Nope," I lied. "Just that he fancied someone else. He also said he doubts that this person even likes him back at all."
Tracey hummed thoughtfully.
"Then, I suppose, best case scenario, we proceed with pairing them up," Tracey shrugged. "Not much we can do with so little information."
As much as I wanted to tell them exactly who was involved, I knew that my friends — ahem, Daphne — were the type to try to get involved and I just couldn't play around with Wyatt's secret like that.
"Did he say anything about how she looked like?" Daphne asked suddenly, twirling her blonde hair.
"Nope, nothing at all. I've got no clue at all," I lied once again.
"I bet he told you who it was but you don't wanna tell us who it is because it's someone we know," Tracey decided.
I laughed awkwardly, "What? No."
"Merlin!" Daphne exclaimed. "It's you he fancies, isn't it?"
"What? No, of course not," I shook my head with assertion.
"It totally is! He was asking you for help for someone he fancies, but it's you he fancies. Boys do that all the time. They ask their crush for help on how to confess to their crush," Daphne was beaming, almost too happy about this silly little conclusion of hers.
"Okay, no. It's not me, alright? Yes, Tracey, Wyatt did tell me who it was, but no, it's not someone we know — I just wanted to respect his secret a little, you know?" I said, my eyes widening in slight annoyance.
"Well, does she like him back?" Daphne insisted.
"Frankly, I highly doubt it," I said.
"Then, it's fine. We can proceed with our plans," Daphne said with a shrug.
And we did.
Although terrified with being in the presence of all the S4 after Wyatt's evident display of highness last week, I agreed to sit with them every meal I could with Daphne, Tracey, and Pansy nearby. The idea was to hopefully get Wyatt and Pansy to get used to each other's presence more often and to, hopefully, get them to converse with each other.
"And she's back..." Elijah said upon my arrival at the Slytherin table that evening. Tracey and Daphne were behind me, dragging an unbothered Pansy Parkinson with them. "Been avoiding Wyatt? We know."
My absence being attributed to me avoiding Wyatt whom they thought stole one of my potions was... an advantageous development. However, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for allowing them be misled like this.
Shaking my probing shame away as much as I could, I tried focusing on the conversation at hand instead.
"Yup," I said. "Anyway, how have you lot been?"
My three Slytherin friends behind me sat by the S4, keeping an appropriate amount of distance between them. I slipped onto the seat next to James Lancaster who bared even glanced at me when I sat down.
"Great," Isaiah said earnestly, nodding happily as he munched on his food.
"Thrilled," James deadpanned.
Elijah raised an eyebrow at James and answered, "Splendid," with a smile.
Wyatt suddenly began speaking with much enthusiasm about his day to us all, but I didn't have much time to hear about it before James quietly beckoned for my attention.
"I have to speak with you, later," he said, almost solemn.
"Am I in trouble?" I asked, fear rising in my chest. I wondered if he knew that I'd given Wyatt the potion the other day.
"No. Why? Did you do something?" he asked, suddenly looking at me curiously.
"I — er — well, I was planning on sneaking out again after curfew, actually," I said. This was technically not a lie since I was planning on sneaking out at night again.
"To chase after that lake student?" he asked, unimpressed.
"No, for actual potion ingredients, this time. Must be collected during a full moon — not moonwater, but rather, fluxweeds," I told him, feeling relieved that, for once, lies weren't spouting out of my mouth.
"That'll be another detention," he said simply.
"Wait — but I — I didn't go yet," I stammered. James seemed to be repressing a smirked, and I tried not to swallow my spit too hard.
"I suppose the only way to avoid this dreaded detention would be to have me accompany you in the collection of that precious ingredient of yours," James inserted, shrugging innocently as if there were no other option.
"Ugh," I rolled my eyes, though a smile was creeping on my face. I feigned annoyance and said, "Fine, whatever you say, prefect."
James let a small laugh escape through his nose, and he smiled ever so slightly arrogantly in a way that made me want to—
"But that's rubbish, though, isn't it?" Wyatt said, and he groaned as if he were in an impossible dilemma.
"I dunno, Nye. If McGonagall says you can't read in class, then I'd say that's fairly straight forward: don't read in class," Elijah said almost mockingly.
"But it's a book! How can it be that I am not allowed to pursue intellectualism in class?" Wyatt was dumbfounded. Isaiah couldn't stop laughing.
"Who knows? Maybe you'll be reading in detention. That ought to make you happy," Elijah quipped with a smug smile. Isaiah giggled even harder.
"Never pegged you for a bookworm, Wyatt," I interjected. "I have to say, I'm impressed. You are probably the first person I've ever met who's gotten a detention for reading a book in class."
"Oh, shush you. I liked you better when you were ignoring us," Wyatt groaned. I gasped. Isaiah laughed while Elijah and James snickered.
"Well, alright..." I peered over to my right where Daphne, Tracey, and Pansy were seated only a few seats away. "Hello there! I'm seeking new friends."
"Babe, we're already friends," Daphne said, raising both eyebrows at me.
The S4 all sniggered next to me and I mentally face-palmed.
After supper, James, as promised, drew me aside when we reached the common room. We withdrew into an empty study room, as we always did when we'd meet up about his scar.
"I wanted to speak with you about my scar," he said. I should have guessed.
As if on cue, he pulled his hair aside to show me the pink skin above his eye. The texture of his skin appeared much smoother than how it was before I has given him the dittany, and the colour was not as pigmented as before. But I knew he wasn't showing me his scar to brag about the healing progress.
"As you know, I have been applying dittany to my scar every day for a few months now," he continued. "And though it worked at first, I've now reach a point of stagnation. I wonder if we could move forward with something else to help it heal."
"I understand. And I actually have been researching on scar healing and ointments, but I would have to know more about exactly how you got this scar to know how to proceed."
"Such as?"
"Well, you said it came from a magical source, correct?" I asked. James nodded. "Do you recall the spell that was used? Was it dark magic or...?"
"I can't be sure," he admitted. "I sort of... passed out after it happened."
"Well... if it's dark magic," I began, "It might remain a scar forever. Actually, that's the most likely scenario."
He blinked, and then smiled spuriously
"I hope you're joking," he nearly snorted as if this whole situation was suddenly hilarious.
"I'm not..." I said. "Another possibility of it scarring forever is if you did not apply dittany immediately upon getting hurt. Or if you didn't seek care immediately."
"Well, I... I didn't do any of that. I was a bit too preoccupied about, erm, other things at the time," he said with disappointment.
"So, was it dark magic?" I pried, though I knew it was risky to ask. I knew James didn't want me to know how he got his scar, but I just couldn't help but wonder how it even happened — Besides, me knowing would make it easier to help him heal it.
"Like I said. I don't know... It might've been."
"Well, what happened?" I probed.
James hesitated. His face morphed into an expression of pure uncertainty, like he was debating on whether or not to tell me.
"I never even told my friends about this," he admitted.
"Oh," I said, though I already had my doubts that he'd told them about it. "It is embarrassing?"
"It's... personal," he said.
"Well, you don't have to tell me, but I will say that it might help me help you better," I said.
"Let's sit," he suggested suddenly.
I agreed, and we sat on the dark wooden chairs at the study table. James looked at the closed door of the study room, as if to make sure it really was closed and that we were alone in here.
"Last summer," he spoke lowly so I had to really pay attention. "I was at Gringotts. I needed to get something from my father's vault. I thought the vault would open with blood magic, but apparently it didn't because instead, it backfired. And I mean, back-fired. I'm not sure exactly what happened because I blacked out soon afterwards. But there was some sort of growling, then fire shooting and finally, pain above my eye. I woke up to a goblin telling me I needed to leave. Another goblin showed up and told me that they had removed the blood magic from the vault years ago. They didn't know why as it was simply requested with no explanation from the vault-holder, my father. I wasn't about to ask my father either. If you... if you knew him the way I do, you'd know not to defy or question him."
James paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. I stayed quiet, not wanting to distract him from his explanation.
"So, I asked the goblins not to tell my father I was here. They didn't need convincing. Apparently, they get thieves all the time who all inevitably fail, so it'd be a waste of time to notice every single vault-holder of every single failed break-in. They said they're letting me off easy because I'm just a kid, but that I should sort this out with my father if I wanted access to this vault. I left. Went home. And that was it. My burn hurt like hell, and as soon as I got home and looked in the mirror, I realized it was very visible. I didn't want my father to ask me questions about it or to find out I had tried getting into his vault, so I hid it. I wore hats, grew my hair out, and did all I could to cover it up. And now... I don't want people asking me questions about it. I don't want professors owling my father about it. I just want to get rid of it."
James landed his gaze on me, as if indicating that he was done and needed my input.
"I have an idea," I said. "It might sound bizarre, though..."
"What?"
"We could make a scene. One where I accidentally burn you publicly. Then, everyone will think that I was the one that scarred you and not ask any other questions."
James laughed.
"You're funny," he decided.
"But it's a good idea, though, isn't it?" I insisted.
"It's... I suppose it could work... But wouldn't Madam Pomfrey know what happened as soon as I am sent to see her?"
"Well... I could actually burn you if you don't mind. Then, once the burn I give you heals, your real scar will look like it came from me."
"That's insane," James declared, though he seemed to be mulling the idea over in his head.
"It's genius!"
"You'll be accused of dark magic," James pointed out.
"So? They'll check my wand and see that it was just a regular fire spell," I said with a shrug. "We could delay you going to Madam Pomfrey so that it looks like it had allready began scarring, and that you were too late in seeking help."
"I... I suppose you can be sort of a genius, sometimes..." James blinked, seemingly processing the amount of genius I was exuding.
"So, it's a plan?" I asked.
"Let's bloody do it," he said.