Bittersweet [Hogwarts Fanfiction]

"So, that's the place, huh?" Wyatt Nye had just entered the girls' second-floor bathroom, which also happened to be haunted. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was often deserted because of the ghost girl that lurked within it. More often than not, students avoided using this bathroom. Hence why I had been using it as my little hideout to brew potions.

"Why are you here?" I asked, slightly irked. I was merrily focused on looking through my newly acquired potions books, and then, this troublemaker showed up.

"You owed me a potion two days ago," he said, feigning a smile as he cocked his head to the side.

"Fine," I huffed, pushing my books away and grabbing my bag.

There was something harmless I could give him somewhere in my bag. Yes, I was aware that Wyatt's S4 friends were avidly against me selling him potions. According to them, Wyatt was prone to addiction. But this potion I was looking for had vpa disgustingly strong bitter taste.

"That will be twenty galleons," I said, pulling out the potion. It was a blue-shimmering potion, slightly bubbly at the top.

"TWENTY?!" he repeated in disbelief. "Last time, it was five!"

"No, last time, it was fifty."

"But I only gave you five for it," he said.

"James paid for the rest of your debt," I shrugged.

"Oh, so now you're calling him James? How sweet," he teased, an obnoxious tone gripping his voice.

"Fine, then, eighteen. But that's my final offer."

"But I don't have eighteen galleons," he said, a nasty scowl invading his pale face.

Shrugging because it frankly didn't matter to me, I placed the bottle back inside my bag. "Well, too bad, then."

Wyatt stood there, a desperate look on his face.

"You finally brought a boy in here!" Myrtle exclaimed. She had just floated out of a bathroom stall, no doubt back from one of her shameless voyeur excursions to the prefects' bathroom. She looked obsessively at Wyatt, her eyes wide and mouth gaping slightly. "He's so handsome too! I wish I could touch him."

"What — what is that?" Wyatt moved away from Moaning Myrtle, visibly scared of her.

"A ghost, you utterly dimwitted elephant," I laughed.

"Why is she looking at me like that?" he asked, his eyes wide and his face frowning as he inched closer to the exit.

"Why? Are you scared?" Moaning Myrtle asked coyly, approaching Wyatt with a strange glimmer of malintent in her eyes.

"Er — I have to go," he said quickly before rushing off into the hallway and out of sight.

"Thanks, Myrtle," I said, earnestly smiling at her. "How did you know I wanted to get rid of him?"

She looked taken aback. "Why would you want to get rid of him? It's a pity that he didn't stay any longer."

"Oh," I said with surprise.

I was back to my relaxing and enlightening potion book, flipping through the pages. I now understood why these books could only be found in the library's restricted section. There were many horrible things in there — although, admittedly, my eyes lingered on the polyjuice potion page.

I switched to the other book Amirah gave me, hoping to find something other than morbid and oddly specific torture-devised potions. I wasn't spared from finding some very bizarre and atrocious potion recipes, but I did find the potion recipe I was looking for. Veritaserum.

The ingredients would be difficult to find, and the potion required a full lunar cycle to brew, so I almost thought I'd give up at that point. Thankfully, I quickly reminded myself that the next full moon wasn't too far away, and I could just owl my father about the remaining potion ingredients I needed.

I already had the sopophorous beans and the moonstone. But I needed a fresh adder's fork, twelve jobberknoll feathers and a vial of ptolemy. I could easily ask my father for the adder's fork. I could ask for the jobberknoll feathers as well, but I still needed a whopping six because I only had half of the needed quantity. I hoped to Gods my father wouldn't realize I was illegally brewing a truth serum, especially since it was illegal to use it on other students. Well, illegal if and only if I got caught, of course.

Ah, and the ptolemy. Hopefully Snape wouldn't notice when I stole it from his stores because there was no way my father would let me have that. I didn't know much about its contents except that it was a red, liquidy, magical substance often used in poisons or other ill-intended potions. Besides, if I also asked for that ingredient, it would be far too easy for a potion master such as my father to guess that I was brewing Veritaserum. I needed to make it believable.

I sent my second letter home this week, kindly asking my father for a fresh adder's fork and for six jobberknoll feathers. I claimed it was for my Care of Magical Creatures class, where we would be studying snakes and birds for the next few weeks (lies, but plausible, I reckoned).

By the time it was Friday, I hadn't received any news from my father regarding the ingredients. Moreover, I had been avoiding Wyatt since Tuesday evening when he annoyed me for potions again. Whenever he'd see me, he'd make it his mission to incessantly nag me and demand that I gave him a potion for free (James and friends adamantly refused to lend him any money). Thankfully, Isaiah kindly shared a spell with me to cast on my belongings (such as my bags and chests), making it impossible for someone who wasn't me to pry them open and steal their contents.

When my Defence Against the Dark Arts class was over that afternoon, I was ecstatic to start the weekend. Sure, I was a little burnt out from the week, and I was definitely not looking forward to all the homework we got, but I was still so glad to finally have more time to work on my potions.

When I stepped into the Great Hall after classes, I immediately spotted Wyatt Nye's eyes on me. I made it very obvious all week that I was trying to avoid him, so I knew he was planning something when he stared at me like that. I momentarily debated going back out into the Entrance Hall and skipping supper. But at that moment, my stomach growled uncontrollably, and I realized there was no escaping this.

Taking the side opposite from Wyatt at the table, I clutched my bag hanging over my shoulder and walked onwards. When I passed by the Slytherin Four, Wyatt got up, standing on the other side of the table. I kept my pace and moved forward, cautiously keeping my eyes on Wyatt. But he marched parallel to me, following me. When I stopped in my tracks, he did the same, and we just stood silently staring at each other.

I walked backwards, back to where I had come from, and Wyatt immediately did the same, following my movements on the other side of the table. We went back and forth as such until Elijah Hadleigh grabbed my forearm and insisted that I just sit with them.

Reluctantly, I sat next to him, with Wyatt across from me, silently observing my every movement.

"Alright, Wy, knock it off," James, seated next to Wyatt, said, snapping his fingers in front of Wyatt's eyes.

Wyatt stopped his creepy staring at me and glanced around at his S4 friends. They all looked at him intently and cautiously as if expecting Wyatt to do something very shocking at any moment now.

"What?" he said innocently, returning to eating as if everything was completely normal.

The other S4s glanced around at each other with their eyebrows raised, but none of them pressed on. I moved my lips to the side uncertainly as I served myself some food.

"Will you continue brewing your potions after supper?" Wyatt inquired suddenly, gazing at me pensively.

"No," I lied, knowing he would likely follow me there to bother me for potions again if I told him the truth.

"Ah," he said, raising an eyebrow at me as he pushed back his blonde hair.

I tried avoiding Wyatt's periodical gaze for the rest of the supper. I glanced everywhere except for where Wyatt was. I noticed the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table, sporadically glancing back at me with devious smirks. I hoped they wouldn't later ask me to reveal some deep dark S4 secrets because I wouldn't know what to tell them, and even if I did, I was not the type to spill other people's secrets.

At last, I had finished my supper and stood up to leave. Just as I did, Wyatt, seated across from me, also began to stand up, but James pulled him back down.

"Wyatt, empty your plate first," James said cooly. Wyatt eyed me and shook his head.

"I'm not hungry anymore," he said and began to stand up again, but James pulled him back down again.

"No wasting. Eat up."

I began to slowly get away, glancing at the S4s every few seconds to make sure Wyatt wouldn't follow me. I could see Wyatt trying to get up again and James pulling him back down every time.

"Stop being a creep, Wyatt," James said.

"Yeah, don't you realize it's weird to follow girls around," Elijah interjected.

"I wasn't about to follow her," Wyatt insisted, and that was the last thing I heard before their voices were completely out of earshot.

I thought I could breathe once I had reached the entrance hall, but I was suddenly bombarded by Hermione, who spoke so quickly, I didn't comprehend the first part of what she said. Ron Weasley and Harry Potter silently lingered behind her.

"—the Arithmancy homework. C'mon, let's go," she said, linking arms with mine.

"Wh — huh?"

Hermione dragged me back inside the Great Hall, and I was nearly tripping over my own feet. I caught a glimpse of the Slytherin table before Hermione pulled me into a seat at the Gryffindor table, where we joined the Weasley twins with Ron and Harry. It didn't seem like Wyatt had seen me emerge back into the Great Hall, but Malfoy gave me a nasty glare, which wasn't good news.

"Ah, Blackwood!" Fred said pleasantly upon my arrival. He and George were seated across from the Golden Trio and me. "Glad you could join us!"

I smiled shortly, and George looked over my head.

"Ooh, looks like Malfoy is seething over there," George said with delight.

"You should eat with us more often, Blackwood," Fred suggested earnestly.

"I suppose," I shrugged.

"Anyhow, Maeve," Hermione piped in. "As I was saying, we should work on the Arithmancy homework tonight."

"Tonight?" I said, shaking my head. "But it's due on Monday... isn't it?"

"Yes, well, I have other obligations, and besides, I realized just earlier, as I was looking over the homework, that it will take many hours of our time to complete the charts. We should get a head start tonight, so we can complete the rest tomorrow easily."

"Oh."

Hermione was my partner for the latest Arithmancy project assignment. Professor Vector had us work in pairs for this assignment because it was much heavier than the previous ones, but I hadn't looked at it properly. Vector insisted that this assignment couldn't be completed overnight, but I boldly thought I could still pull it off.

"But we have to work diligently," Hermione continued. "It's one of those assignments where mixing up one formula could mess up the whole project."

"Alright," I said, trying to hide my uncontrollable sigh with a yawn.

"Tired already?" Hermione asked.

"It's Friday," Ron said between bites.

"Well, eat up. I need you to work well tonight," Hermione said.

"Who? Me?" Ron asked, baffled.

"I already ate," I answered before Hermione could roll her eyes at Ron.

"Well, splendid! Just wait for me, then." Hermione served herself some food. She then quickly began swallowing as much of it as humanly possible.

Fred grabbed the arm of a Gryffindor girl that was passing by. She had waist-long platinum blonde hair and a hurried look on her face. She shook her head at him.

"I'm sorry, Fred, I have to meet up with Romeo," she said. The girl then went to the Hufflepuff table, where she sat with another boy.

"What's up with Ivy and Romeo these days," Fred said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Dunno," George shrugged with indifference.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Ivy Law, fourth-year Gryffindor student. Our little assistant," Fred said.

"Assistant? What in the Hells — are you guys running a business?"

"Ah, well, you see—"

"And finished!" Hermione wiped her mouth with a napkin. I was quite shocked at the speed at which she consumed her food. "Maeve, it's time to get to work now. Shall we?"

"Duty calls," I said as I stood up from the table with Hermione.

Harry and Ron, conversing amongst themselves, perked their heads up and waved goodbye as we left.

"So, remind me... Why can't we work on this tomorrow instead?" I asked, already feeling exhausted from today's classes and feeling disappointed that I wasn't currently working on my potions — or sleeping.

"I have other homework to do then. I'd much rather finish this and then focus on everything else afterwards."

"Oh. Splendid," I said with sarcasm, but Hermione didn't react to it.

The rest of the evening was only slightly less dull than I had expected. Arithmancy wasn't necessarily difficult for me, but it definitely wasn't my strong suit either. The sheer joy of learning and any fascination I had for that class had suddenly perished because of this assignment.

We spent two hours in the library, writing, revising, reading, and writing again. My hand was sore from all the writing, and I thought this would never end until Madam Pince had to personally escort us out of the library because it was closing hours, and we were the only ones still lingering. Whilst Hermione was most disappointed to be halted in her twenty-fifth formula deciphering, I was beaming at Madam Pince and mentally thanking her for saving me from this night of torture.

"Well," Hermione began, pursing her lips. "I suppose we will complete the next seventy-five percent of that assignment tomorrow."

"Gods, Professor Vector is insanely cruel for giving us such an ungodly amount of homework," I said, wide-eyed and tired.

Hermione nodded understandingly but made no response. I yawned and got teary-eyed as we climbed the moving staircases.

"Surely, you're going to rest, Maeve," Hermione said.

"Huh? Oh — yeah, definitely."

She stopped walking and laughed softly. I stopped in my tracks and looked at her curiously.

"The dungeons are that way," she said, pointing down the staircases. I had been foolishly following her upstairs for some reason.

"Oh, yeah, I — well, good night," I said. I gave her a quick wave before going back down.

"Good night, Maeve!" Hermione called back as I descended onto another set of stairs.

I was just about to reach the stairs that would bring me to the ground floor when the staircase I was on began to move.

"For Merlin's sake..." I mumbled with annoyance. "I'm so tired. Please don't do this to me, stairs."

But the staircase ignored my pleas and kept moving until it reached an entrance to the first floor. Great, a place I had never explored before. I looked up to the flights of stairs above, where I could not see Hermione anymore. She was long gone now and could not save me.

I momentarily debated jumping off to the ground floor (it wasn't that high), but I figured I was too exhausted to land uninjured if I did. Sighing quietly, I ventured down the hallway, hoping it'd connect to the dungeons somehow.

More stairs. Great.

As I descended the stairs, I heard voices. Giggles. Laughter. At the bottom of the stairs was a brightly lit corridor with many food-themed paintings. The voices were much louder now, though still distant, yet nobody was around. It was as if some students were trapped inside the wall or something. My tiredness must be making me hallucinate.

I almost kept walking, but then the voices grew louder, and I realized they seemed to be coming from — a painting of a platter of fruits. How odd.

Placing my ear against the canvas, I awkwardly tried to understand what I was hearing.

I looked quite ridiculous at the moment, my ear pressed against a painting of a giant platter of fruits, but this was too strange for me not to investigate.

"No, no, that's a bit much," someone laughed. That voice —

I suddenly fell inside the painting — or so I thought. The fruit platter painting swung open inside the wall, and I fell forward. I was slightly disoriented, but then someone helped me up.

It was George. Fred stood behind him with the blonde-haired girl from earlier, whom I wouldn't recall the name, next to him.

"You alright there, Maeve? You could've knocked your teeth out," George said as I wiped the dust off my clothes.

"Yeah... erm—" I did not recognize this place, but I knew precisely what it was. "What are you all doing in the kitchens?" It was an enormous, high-ceiling room. Brass pots and pans, a great brick fireplace at one end, four long tables, a clean stoned floor, house elves in ragged clothing—

George pulled me back into the corridor with Fred and the blonde girl behind him as he said, "Alright, that's quite enough." The painting closed behind us, and we stood in the hallway, momentarily silent.

"So, you're Maeve?" the blonde girl said, vaguely pointing at me.

"Yeah, I am," I glanced at Fred and George with a how-come-she-knows-about-me look, but they avoided my eyes.

"I'm Ivy. Ivy Law," she introduced herself politely and formerly extended her hand. I nodded as I shook it.

Ivy Law had pale, almost ghost-like skin and a beautiful pointed face. Her eyes were silvery-grey and had a dominating air, but they were also kind and friendly with a sense of genuine lovingness. She was tall. Only an inch shorter than George and Fred. Her hair looked soft and thin, yet very long and reached her waist. They were just as platinum blonde as Malfoy's hair, although hers had a smoother shimmer (maybe because Malfoy gelled the hell out of his hair).

I had never met her before, though I knew I had seen her around, and for that, I knew she was a Gryffindor. Frankly, I was intimidated by her beauty and grand sense of character. It was as if she were the protagonist of a fictional story. She had such poise and mannerisms that it was surprising to see a girl like her hang out with the mischievous Weasley twins.

"What were you all doing in there?" I asked again.

"Don't worry about it, Maeve," George said, placing a hand on my shoulder to guide me back up the stairs and out of this brightly lit corridor. Fred and Ivy Law followed behind.

"Are you all planning a prank or something?" I persisted.

George shook his head, his arm now placed around my shoulders, as we reached the top of the stairs.

"You must be tired. I reckon you're off to bed now?"

"So, you are planning something... and it has to do with the food, too!" I concluded. George chuckled, removing his arm from my shoulders, but he didn't confirm nor deny my claims.

We reached the landing at the moving staircases, where we'd have to part ways.

"It was nice meeting you, Maeve," Ivy said politely again, nodding at me.

"We'll see you at breakfast tomorrow," Fred said.

George waved, and the three began to walk up the stairs, but I grabbed George's arm, pulling him back down. Fred and Ivy noticed, but they ignored it and kept walking up the stairs.

"George," I said, and he parted his lips. "What sort of prank are you all planning? Should I be worried about eating the Great Hall's food tomorrow morning...?

"Ah, Maeve," he patted me on the head, his hand bouncing a little on my thick large hair. "You won't have to worry about anything. You're spared."

And then he marched off, leaving me utterly bewildered as to what he could mean by that.