Chapter 34: Bargaining (Part 2)
The philosophy behind those words was unlike anything an eleven-year-old should be capable of articulating. Snape looked at Warren. For a moment, he hesitated, questioning his own intentions.
Warren noticed his hesitation. "Professor, is there something you would like me to do?"
Looking at that smiling face, Snape could not help but think of Dumbledore. He was always smiling at him too.
In truth, the moment Warren had arrived at the Quidditch pitch and seen the Gryffindor team, he had known what Snape wanted. Snape only emerged from his dungeon for one thing: he wanted to spite Harry in a sport he considered foolish.
True to form, Snape maintained his aloof air for a moment before asking flatly, "What do you think of Potter's Quidditch skills?"
"Excellent." Warren watched the Gryffindors practicing overhead. Harry's small figure zipped through the wind and rain. He glanced at Snape and added mischievously, "Everyone says Harry inherited his father's talent. They believe no other Seeker in the school can beat him."
Warren could have sworn he heard teeth grinding. Snape's fists clenched. His dark eyes, usually so devoid of life, now flickered with a rare, intense emotion. It was impossible to tell if it was longing or hatred.
He was clearly done with evasion. "Warren Weasley. If I placed you on the Slytherin team, could you defeat him?"
Warren made no effort to hide his surprise. "Professor? Why? You know Harry and I are friends. Besides, I am not particularly fond of Quidditch."
"Hmph. Friends." Snape's lip curled. "Just tell me. Can you do it?"
"Probably." Warren's expression radiated an air of confident innocence. "But Professor, I have quite a lot on my plate at the moment. Particularly my experiments with ingredients. They take a great deal of time and money. I have to brew potions to earn a living, after all."
"I will provide the ingredients." The words were practically ground out between Snape's teeth.
"But I must keep up with my studies." Warren's smile did not waver. "You know how seriously I take my education. Daily assignments consume so much of my time."
"I will speak to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick." Snape's expression grew even colder. "Given your aptitude for Transfiguration and Charms, I am certain they will agree to excuse you from their assignments. Mine included, of course." His voice dropped dangerously low. "However, you must not neglect your other subjects."
"That would be wonderful." Warren's eyes sparkled with barely contained satisfaction. He continued, "I also noticed something about the books you lent me recently. Aside from the Memory Charm, there is no material on mind magic. Legilimency, for instance."
Snape's complexion shifted to a sickly pallor. The realization struck him: this Weasley was precisely as insufferable as Dumbledore, greedy and ruthless when holding an advantage. After steadying his breathing, he spoke with forced composure, "I shall send you a relevant book during the summer. Do not press your luck, Weasley."
Warren felt a pang of regret. What perfect blackmail material that would have been. However, judging by Snape's expression, the man had reached his limit. Still, he could not resist adding one last remark.
"The Slytherin team needs a new captain. Marcus Flint is an idiot."
Snape swept his robes around him to storm off, but he paused to consider Marcus Flint for a moment. Flint was large and burly, resembling a gorilla. Physically, he was capable enough. What lay behind his eyes, however, remained a mystery. He was dumber than a troll. Snape suddenly realized this was not an unreasonable request. He forced himself to ask, his voice flat.
"Do you have someone in mind?"
Warren's expression was complicated.
"No."
As they left the Quidditch pitch, buffeted by the wind and rain, they still had not found a replacement for Flint. Warren himself was out of the question. No matter how much Snape wanted to spite Harry, he would not ask Warren to waste that much time on Quidditch.
Still mulling over the candidates, Warren sighed just before they parted.
"Professor, could we maybe recruit some normal people next year? That is all I ask. Just people with brains."
Snape was left speechless.
Two mornings later, Warren was gracing the Gryffindor table with his presence when he received a package by owl. Warren was eating breakfast with the trio. Even as he poured all his energy into mastering new spells and potions, he stayed well informed about Harry's activities. One member of the trio was his brother, another was his informant, and Harry was notoriously loose-lipped. He could not keep a secret to save his life.
Even without paying particular attention, Warren knew Harry was still looking into that small package Hagrid had taken from Gringotts. They had even discovered the room where Fluffy was kept. It had happened over two weeks ago, on the last night of Harry's detention. Ron and Hermione had gone to meet him and stumbled upon Mrs. Norris and Peeves.
After Warren taught Hermione the spell to handle Peeves, the poltergeist realized he was outnumbered. He formed an alliance with Filch, or so he thought. In reality, Peeves was working with Mrs. Norris. The ghost slipped through walls to find students out of bed while the cat went to fetch Filch. Old enemies were easily provoked.
Peeves was terrified of Warren, but he held no fear of the trio. He shrieked and hollered in the corridor, and with Mrs. Norris's help, chased them all the way to the fourth floor. They were forced to take refuge in a nearby room.
"You're dead meat. A giant three-headed dog will rip you to pieces."
Peeves rolled through the air with glee. In that room, the trio had encountered the three-headed dog. Hermione had spotted a trapdoor beneath one of its paws.
"That package Hagrid took must be hidden beneath that trapdoor," Harry had told Warren just yesterday. "It is Dumbledore's. It has to be important. Too bad we do not know what it is."
With his usual mischief, Warren asked, "Why do not you just ask Hagrid?"
Harry, feeling more confident after a few weeks at Hogwarts, questioned the advice. "Hagrid is tight-lipped. He will not tell me anything."
"You never know. Just tell him you saw the three-headed dog."
That morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione eagerly sought out Warren.
"How did you know that would be enough to make Hagrid spill the beans?"
Warren offered a mysterious smile. "Where do you think Harry got his loose tongue from?"
"Hagrid said the three-headed dog is called Fluffy," Harry said, pausing for breath. "He lent it to Dumbledore to guard something."
"It has something to do with Nicolas Flamel," Ron jumped in.
"Nicolas Flamel," Hermione said. "I know I have seen that name before, but I just cannot place it. I looked it up last night but found nothing. Warren, do you know?"
All three of them looked at Warren expectantly.
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