Chapter 3 : The (kind of faulty but might just work) Plan
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A/N: I just wanted to say thank you all so much for the super sweet reviews! I really appreciate any feedback, suggestions or anything really. Without further ado, here is Chapter 3 and Pink!Potter
"So, your parents are shipping you off for the holidays because…?"
"They're selfish people who decided to skedaddle off to Paris"
"Don't judge me during a crisis!"
"Okay, sorry, and you have to stay at the Potter household because…?"
"They want me to be with family over the holidays, so I was lumped with Carson."
"Well, good luck with that" This was my incredibly understanding friend Sebastian Reed, giving me tons of support. Thank you Seb, you've made me feel so much better. Seb's one of my two best guy friends, and known as the Slytherin playboy (a title which he takes a lot of pride in). He's quite pretty actually, with black hair that always looks windswept and his quidditch defined body. Supposedly his mother was a looker too, she even dated Harry Potter when they were in school!
We're currently in Modern History of Magic, which was implemented after the Second Wizarding War as a mandatory class for all sixth and seventh year students. It probably would've been an interesting class, but Binns makes even the epic Battle of Hogwarts sound like the most uneventful occurrence of life. Basically, it's just a class to sleep, catch up on homework for other classes or talk. Currently, I'm wedged in between two of my friends at a desk that was clearly not meant for three.
"Hey, here's an idea," says my other friend, Patrick Finnegan, who's crammed in on my left, "use your time in there to get us the Gryffindor quidditch info!"
I give him my 'are you serious?' look, but it obviously isn't strong enough, because he continues, "Think about it! You get to go behind enemy lines! Just go into his room, look through some papers, see if you can find any of their plays, or notes, or anything useful. It's brilliant!"
"I'm surrounded by idiots" I moan, letting my head onto the desk with a thunk, which hurt way more than I expected, but I refuse to give in and say 'ow', because that will make me just as much of an idiot as them.
"But we're cool, lovable idiots" Seb says, patting my head.
"And you have to put up with us because we're all part of the Fun Five!" Patrick adds, and Seb snorts.
"We are not the Fun Five" I reply, sitting back up. Back when Dom, Immy, Seb, Patrick and I all became friends in first year, we decided to come up with a group name, like the Marauders (old, distant relatives of Dom's), but better, because we are Slytherins, who always do things better. We spent a full weekend arguing about which name to go with. Dom wanted the "Fab Five" (but it was veto'd by the guys because it was "too girly"), Immy was into the "Felicitous Five" (which was outvoted because the rest of us didn't know what it meant), Seb was all for the "Fetching Five" (vain little git, obviously we didn't let this pass), I was rooting for the "Food Five" (don't even ask, I can't remember why I thought it was a genius idea), and Patrick was adamant on the "Fun Five", which, while we all thought was completely unoriginal and not at all the epic nickname we were looking for, no one ever officially voted it out, so he just assumed we okay'd it. We didn't. We were not that daft. So he insists on calling us that, just to annoy us. It works.
"I still can't believe I have to spend two weeks with Potter! I mean, look at him!"
They both glance at Potter, who had this smug little grin on his face because this whole class is about his dad, and he's just basking in the second-hand glory.
With a little laugh at Potter's stupid face, Seb asks"So, has Carson written to your mom about it?"
"No, he hasn't! And I don't know how to get him to!"
It's been a week. 7 days. 168 hours...give or take a few, and Carson's done nothing to rectify this situation he's gotten me into. Yes, that's right, my dear brother who everyone loves so much is actually an evil, cold-hearted male who takes pleasure in other people's pain. Or he's just spacey and lazy, but let's go with the first, it's more interesting.
I've been bugging him all week, and he hasn't even started the letter to the parentals to convince them that my staying at the Potters would be apocalyptic. I've asked him so many times that I think he's starting to avoid me in fear of being hounded about it. Well, he should be scared. I can be scary. I can be. Really.
"Have you offered him anything for writing the letter?" Seb prods
"What? No, he's my twin. He has to do it. We're bound by blood and all that."
"Well, there's your problem! He doesn't have an incentive."
"So, I should...bribe him? With what? Chocolate frogs?"
"You could bribe him, but that's not really the Slytherin way…" he says, with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you saying I should blackmail my brother?" I ask incredulously.
"It doesn't have to be blackmail, per say. Do some scheming, cut him a deal," then he grins and knocks on my head with his fist, "use your noggin, you weren't made a snake for nothing."
"Sometimes I wonder if you just stay up at night thinking of evil-sounding things to say, just to creep us all out once and a while"
"Not evil, cunning! Intelligent! Shrewd! I am a true Slytherin!" he proclaims rather loudly, punching the air above him.
The rest of the class turns to look at us, and the other Slytherins in the room punch the air as well and shout "Huzzah!", meanwhile Binns still continues with his lecture, like people are actually listening. Is it possible to go deaf as a ghost?
"You could always dye his hair green…" Patrick interjects out of the blue.
"You know, enchant it green and then refuse to change it back until he writes to your mom"
"That's...actually, that's genius!"
"I'm aware. Thank me later by getting some of the Gryffindor's quidditch plays from your brother's dorm, yeah?"
Let me tell you something about Patrick and Seb's "grand schemes", they never work, ever. There's a reason no one's ever tried to challenge Potter and Fred to be the 'official' pranksters at Hogwarts, and that the school hasn't blown up from elaborate practical jokes by now. Pranks are really, really hard.
It's true! Last year, Patrick, newly minted Quidditch captain, decided to set off dungbombs in all of the other Houses' change rooms. The entire Slytherin team snuck out in the middle of the night, with a sack full of dungbombs. They made it halfway across the pitch before someone dropped the bag and all the dungbombs blew up right there, the team getting a full blast. They reeked for weeks, and I remember Scorpius being particularly cross because Rose refused to go near him, but she avoided him normally, so I don't see what the big deal was. There's still a patch of the Quidditch pitch that smells faintly of dung. This is only an example in a long list of botched pranks!
But this one, it actually worked. Well, I think it did. I spent all of yesterday preparing a potion that will turn whoever it's poured on green, and connected it to my wand, so that only I can reverse it. The second part was easy, I'm a much better charms student than potions-brewer, and this potion was bloody difficult! I had to first find one that would work when it made contact with the skin, rather than when you drink it, because, knowing Carson, he would accidentally spill his drink, and all my hard work would go to waste and I'd be trapped with the Potters. Surprisingly the brewing went quite smoothly, except for the fact that there ended up being a lot more of the potion than I expected, and it was this kind of bubble-gum colour instead of a mossy green. Minor details.
Now, I've planned this out very carefully. I hung the potion in a cauldron above the door inside Carson's dormitory, and enchanted it so that when the door opens, the cauldron will tip and the potion will pour on him. The moment the potion hits him, a banner will unfold (okay, charms are my thing, I like to show off a bit...go away) from the ceiling and in sparkly letters flash "Write to mom and I'll change you back". I was going to go with "Write to mom or stay like this FOREVER", but Dom told me I was being overdramatic, and coming from the melodramatic queen herself, I decided that it might have been a bit too over-the-top.
Next period (the second one of the day), Carson's the only one who has a spare out of the boys in his year (I know this because he complains about how alone he is during it all. the. freaking. time.), and he told me how he's going to be studying in his room today for his Care of Magical Creatures test.
Only 40 more minutes until he writes to mom…
I'm jolted out of my reverie by the bell ringing, signaling the start of class. Ol' Sluggy waddles in, munching on some crystallized pineapple, and calls the class to order. "I'm going to pair you up today, and you'll stay in these pairs for the rest of the week, working on Aging Potions"
A week? A whole week? What if I hated the person? I can't deal with being paired with some annoying lazy bugger for a week!
"Oscar Davies, paired with Clara Edwards"
Davies was seated in the front row and motioned for me to move to the seat next to him. When I sat down, he graced me with his should-be-on-the-cover-of-Witch-Weekly smile, and... seriously Slughorn? Why are we only in these pairings for a week? It's way too short! They should be for a month, at least!
We've just found the instruction page in the textbook when Slughorn's voice booms out "Who's left? Ah, James! Hmm, seems we have an uneven number. No matter, you'll work with Mr. Davies and Ms. Edwards"
Ha, sucks for Potter, he has to work in a group of three. That's tough luck for whoever has to put up with-wait, did he just say Edwards? I look up to see Potter standing over our workbench, giving Davies a fist bump. Really Slugs? A whole week paired up? That long?
"Edwards" Potter says, nodding at me from his side of the workbench.
"Potter" I reply, nodding my head as well. See Potter, I can do that half head jerk too, except on me it looks like some weird head twitch, whereas Potter makes it look cool, which isn't fair at all. I don't think some people should be blessed with head-nodding abilities which give them this look of cool indifference, while other people (aka me) end up looking like spastic frogs.
"What page are the instructions on?" Potter asks, digging in his book bag for his textbook
"280" Davies says from in between the two of us, while Potter searches frantically through his bag.
"Bugger" he mutters under his breath, and then raises his had and says, "Professer, I left my book in my dormitory. Can I go get it?"
Wow Potter, real smart, forgetting your book in your dorm. In your dorm...oh no! Say no Slughorn, say no, say no, I'll hand in all my potions homework on time from now on if you just say-
"Of course my boy!"
Oh god. Potter has stood up and is turning away when I frantically say "Wait! You can share mine!"
Potter gives me a look that clearly indicates that he thinks I'm either wacko or joking.
"Er, that's okay."
"No here, just take it. You're better at potions anyway, it will be more use to you" Times have gotten really desperate if I'm admitting Potter's better at something than I am.
"Really Edwards, it's fine. Mine has notes in it anyway. It used to be my dad's and there's all these useful tips in it"
So that's how he gets such good potions marks! Not all this 'natural talent' Slughorn keeps harping on about.
No! Clara! Priorities! This is not the time to be thinking about that! We have a crisis on our hands!
And...Potter just left, to go up to the dormitory, where he'll be greeted by a potion which will turn his hair green. Avada Kedavra me now.
I sit there worried, staring at the door, waiting for Potter to return, praying that the potion didn't work. I mean, my potion brewing skills are not to be relied on. He could just come back completely normal, none the wiser about what fate was awaiting him. Or, he'd come back with bright green hair and a vendetta against me.
"You okay?" Davies asks me, giving me a concerned look.
"Yup, fan-freaking-tastic" I reply distantly, still concentrating on the door. He should be back by now.
"Want to start then?" he asks, gesturing to the empty cauldron.
"Oh, yeah, we should probably get on that" I say, focusing my attention back on the assignment.
We're three steps in when Potter returns. He storms into the class, and stands in front of the doors, seething. The whole class turns back as the doors clanged shut. On the upside, his hair isn't green. On the downside, it's hot pink...along with the rest of him. James Sirius Potter is entirely pink, bright pink. His eyes find mine, and he says, through clenched teeth, as though trying to constrain his anger, "Ed-wards." Everyone in the class turns, from gawking at Potter's new pink form to staring at me.
Well, this is just ace.
Hey, I told you that Patrick and Seb's prank ideas never work.
A/N: Finito! Thanks for reading :) Feel free to review (wink wink, nudge nudge) and if you see any typos/spelling errors then tell me. Adios for now!
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