"Harry, tie it up," he said.
"With what?" Potter asked, looking around in confusion.
"I've got some tape in my left pocket," Weasley replied.
Harry pulled the tape from Ron's robe pocket and, with enormous difficulty, strapped the owl's wings to its body. He tied its legs as well.
After that, Ron set the owl down on the floor with a sigh of relief.
Harry tilted his head and studied the bird thoughtfully.
"Er, Ron," he said, "how's it supposed to poo lying down? Do you think birds can even do that?"
"What am I, an ornithologist?" Ron replied indignantly. "How am I supposed to know how birds take a dump?!"
Watching this disgraceful spectacle, Richard had a powerful urge to plant his palm firmly against his face.
"Why don't you stand it on its feet?" he suggested.
"How?!" Harry exclaimed. "Its feet are tied!"
"Make supports," Richie replied, nodding towards the pile of debris that had recently been a collection of old desks. "There's plenty of material over there. All you need is the desire..."
"Richie's got a point," Ron said, immediately heading off to gather boards and splinters.
Using the old rubbish, Harry and Ron constructed a monstrous framework of slanted supports that held the owl upright from all sides. Ron even thought to Transfigure parts of it to reinforce the structure so that the flimsy contraption would not collapse. The result resembled a circular wooden stand that gripped the owl around the middle of its body and rested upon three angled supports.
Ron and Harry fixed the owl with eager, predatory stares.
Richie drew a deep breath and thought:
The poor bird may be unfortunate, but its sacrifice will not be in vain.
Surreptitiously, he drew his wand and pointed it at the owl from behind his friends' backs. An invisible cancelling charm in its enhanced form—Finite Maxima—shot from the tip. It was one of the spells Madam Marchbanks had taught Richard. She had insisted that he master it not only non-verbally but also without a wand.
The charm produced no visible effect, but Richie was certain it had worked. He quickly returned the wand to the holster on his belt. No one had noticed what he had done.
"When's it finally going to crap?!" Ron exclaimed impatiently.
"Come on, now! Push out a larva!" Harry cried enthusiastically, sounding like a supporter chanting encouragement from the stands.
Then, completely unexpectedly, an outraged and near-hysterical shout rang out from behind the three boys:
"You sick perverts, what are you doing to my owl?!"
Silence descended upon the room.
Richie, Ron, and Harry turned around with expressions of profound astonishment and discovered Draco Malfoy standing in the open doorway. Draco stared at his owl with a mixture of disbelief, anger, and outrage so intense that it was impossible to describe.
The scene before him was extraordinary. His bird, bound with tape, was trapped inside a bizarre contraption resembling a fireworks-launching rack. Meanwhile, three of his enemies were staring at it with unnerving intensity, and two of them appeared to be eagerly awaiting the moment when it produced a "larva".
"Psychopaths..." Draco whispered, horror written plainly across his face. "You're all completely mad... It wasn't enough for you to beat me up—you kidnapped my owl as well and now you're tormenting it! What in the bloody hell is going on here?!"
"Er..." Harry began awkwardly. "Malfoy, this isn't what it looks like..."
"Isn't what it looks like?!" Draco exploded. "You lot should be isolated from society! You're deranged perverts who enjoy watching birds take a dump! I'm reporting all of this to Professor Snape and my father!"
"Does anyone here know how to erase memories?" Richard asked unexpectedly in a calm tone.
"No," Ron replied with immense regret.
"No," Harry added, shaking his head.
Draco cautiously retreated a step while keeping his eyes fixed on the trio.
"You want to erase my memory as well?!" he cried in horror.
"Shame. That won't be an option, then," Richard said sadly.
"I'm taking my owl," Draco suddenly declared, finding a reserve of courage. "And don't you dare try to stop me. My father will hear about everything, and you'll regret it!"
"I'm not giving it back!" Harry shouted, stepping into Malfoy's path.
"Your bird's our hostage!" Ron cried. "We'll return it if you clear off and don't tell the teachers anything."
"Draco, I'm sorry. I think we've gone a bit too far," Richard said. "We'll give you your owl back."
"Richie, what?!" Harry stared at Grosvenor in shock. "But what about..." He gestured with his hands, indicating a sphere roughly the size of a football—the Philosopher's Stone, albeit greatly exaggerating its dimensions.
"We'll give it back," Richard repeated firmly. "But not right now. Draco, we want to be certain we won't be punished because of something you tell the staff. Ron may have expressed himself rather bluntly. Let us heal your owl and return it this evening."
"Oh, no you won't!" Draco snapped. "I'm taking it now."
No one knew where Draco had suddenly found such courage, but he decisively darted past the bewildered Harry and Ron towards his owl. Grabbing the bird, he pulled it upwards.
At that precise moment, the thing Weasley and Potter had been waiting for with such anticipation finally happened.
The reaction, however, proved far more dramatic than anyone could have expected.
Inside the owl's intestines, the fake Philosopher's Stone reverted to dry ice when Richard's Finite Maxima took effect. It underwent a violent reaction and began releasing carbon dioxide at a tremendous rate. The gas accumulated in the owl's bowels, slowly inflating the bird and chilling its internal organs.
On top of that, it had received the heroic dose of an exceptionally potent laxative brewed according to the Weasley twins' own modified recipe.
The instant Malfoy disturbed the owl, a powerful stream of icy exhaust erupted from it.
The jet was so powerful that the owl actually took off despite its bound wings. Draco barely managed to keep hold of the bird at arm's length. Fine particles of bird droppings sprayed directly at him, covering Malfoy from head to toe.
It was worth noting that the effect looked remarkably magical—like snowflakes glittering beneath bright sunlight during a hard frost. White sparkling flecks of frozen owl droppings adorned Draco's hair, face, and robes.
(End of Chapter)
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