Mad Apothecarist

“Mr. Bundy,” Burkes waved at me after I closed the door behind me. “How was your holiday?”

“Pretty decent. I won a war, finished my OWLs; how about you?” Burkes raised an amused eyebrow at me but I ignored him.

“Congratulations are in order, then. Would you like any books to help you with gaining mastery?”

“Not today. I might write later, though. Do you have the books I ordered?”

Without a word, the hulking man disappeared into a room behind the counter. I looked around, only finding the usual trinkets around the shop. Do they get no new stuff? Or is that hidden? “I had to fight for these and only got them thanks to your backing.” I mostly gave him money dad got out of companies who used my name on their products and who wrote books about the great Boy-Who-Lived. The stack of old books cost me a lot of money, but I would happily sacrifice a leg for those wells of knowledge (I started to look into magical prosthetics and a leg with hidden compartments sounds really cool).

I took the topmost book and went through it quickly, scanning the lines of old English and Latin. “Oh, I fucking love you.” I startled him into a burst of loud laughter.

“You can show it in the tip,” he batted his eyelashes unnaturally quickly. Marie does the same thing when she likes a boy.

“I already paid for your trip to America, the books, and your accommodation there, while you took a vacation judging by the length of your stay. I think that was enough of a tip, don’t you?” I tried to smile kindly – if he wants to imitate my sister, I can too.

“Eh, heh, you got me there,” he huffed amusedly and put my pile of books into a bag. “Before you leave, I got my hands on a book you might like.”

“Show me.”

“Of course, great Harry Potter.”

“Shut up, you cunt!” I took a much thinner book, bound in a modern muggle-style cover.

“It’s a journal from an experimental healer who blew herself up – I thought you would enjoy it.” My vocal cords made a sound I couldn’t name, but it made the tattooed man loudly laugh. “Good thing she’s dead, you two would be a deadly duo.”

“How much?” I had to cough to sound normal.

“Twenty galleons.”

“Surprisingly cheap,” I took out the shiny gold money and put it in his waiting hand.

“Sale for my best customer!” he grinned. “And I was given it for free with those books,” he calmed down after a long hard stare. “She owned half of them before her accident.”

I rolled my eyes at him and put all my new reading materials into my bag. “Take care.”

“Send me orders, oh gracious pile of gold!” I gave him the middle finger before exiting his dingy store into a dark alley where I had to wear cloak so nobody would recognize me. I hope Lockhart suffers.

***

The Weasley family took their time before they arrived at the train station – I was surrounded by three girls before the twins even stepped into the train.

Daphne was preening at my side because I was wearing the coat she bought me for Christmas.

“You would look charming if you cut your hair to something more…” she ruffled my hair while I was trying to ignore her and read my book. “Maybe shaved sides and long on the top?”

“I would look like my older brother,” I snorted and tried to push her away.

“Fridrich is good-looking, so there would be nothing bad about it,” Hermione teased, her book on her lap, forgotten while she wiggled her eyebrows. Twins have a bad influence on her.

“I think the bowl-cut suits you,” Luna said, the nicest person in the coupe. “I can’t imagine you in anything else!”

“Because he never changed his hair, outside of it being longer or shorter,” Daphne pouted and ruffled it again, tugged on it and my scarred cheek throbbed slightly. “Amuse me, Henry – how many Slytherins clothed you?”

“Eleven at most, but some things were matching, so, who knows,” I shrugged. The new clothes were charmed to change up to three sizes so they were the only clothing that fit my overtly long legs which means Marie now calls me ‘fake gentleman’.

“Ladies, young gentleman, have you seen our friends?” George roughly opened the door with a cheeky smile while Fred rolled his eyes at his twin and bumped him to a side so he could sit next to Hermione. I would rather sit there too instead of near Daphne.

“Are you-“

“Excited-“

“About your Christmas gift?” They turned to me together.

“It’s already ready?” I raised an eyebrow and watched the girls who looked perplexed.

“Yeah, we put into it precious hours we should have spent sleeping!” Fred groaned to strengthen the dramatic effect and fell on Hermione’s shoulder.

“We tried to emulate your work ethic, but it almost ruined us!” George mirrored the actions of his twin and fell on Daphne, who was much less friendly than the other girl, and pushed the Gryffindor off.

That was the last mention of the surprise until my dorm was invaded by two red-heads. Luna was half-asleep, clutching her seal and reading a potion book next to the fire while I was starting on the translation of a part of Flamel’s letter.

“I hope this is not a sleeping night!” George skipped to me and took my pen away. “Because your gift is outside, your majesty.”

“You are lucky I slept yesterday,” I stretched before standing up and taking my coat from where I draped it over the chair. “What is it?”

“A secret!” they chimed in unison and each grabbed me under an elbow. “You will like it,” Fred added.

“Promise,” George bumped into me lightly. “I’ll give you a hint-“

“Don’t give him a hint!” Fred interrupted. “He will figure it out!”

“I wanted to say it was potentially deadly!”

“… I thought you would say…”

“I’m not THAT stupid!”

“Really?” Now I talked in unison with Fred and we giggled at George who was pouting. Fred took out the Marauders’ map so we wouldn’t get caught and I cast silencing and notice-me-not charms to make us less obvious. I would take my invisibility cloak but we had no chance of fitting under it. We were too tall for it now.

They lead me out, to the shore of the Great Lake that reflected a big shining moon and stars twinkling on the night sky. It reminded me of one of Dumbledore’s robes. My eye could see something hidden where we were going but it didn’t have a defining shape. “You disillusioned it?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So, it’s potion or rune based,” I got excited. “Is it one of your prank items? But why would you want me to see it here? And why is it deadly? Could it be something like Gillyweed? Stupid fucking people choke on it, I read an article or two about it…”

“You could wait and discover it that way,” Fred rolled his eyes and took down the charms so I could analyze the plain green boxes. There was no name on them – unsurprising as it was a prototype. “Go on,” he patted me on the back and fell on his ass about two meters from the box.

I crouched near to it and sniffed it and after permission shook it lightly and touched all the sides. The top had a hole in the middle, covered by a sticker I was allowed to peel off. “Do you have a guess?” Fred asked, patting the place next to him. George took the contraption from me and settled it back into the stony shore.

“It looks and smells like a fucking muggle firework.”

“I knew he would get it,” George groaned and fell next to me, lying comfortably in the grass. “Forge, want tpo do the honors? I’ll cast silencing spells.”

“With pleasure,” the ginger took out his wand, waited for his twin to finish, and swished it lightly, mouthing a fire spell silently. There was a hissing sound before a sound of an explosion. Involuntarily I twitched, before calming down and watching the crackling sparks.

It was no basic firework – the sparks danced into pictures of the mythical beasts that floated above the calm lake and impressed me when they interacted with it – a Pegasus made waves with its hooves, a hippogriff extinguished itself by diving into the water… they seemed sentient. I read about magical fireworks but they could only form pictures and do as they were told – I doubt that one can predict the Giant Squid that tried to bat down a flying basilisk, who gracefully ducked all the tentacles that attacked it.

I should visit Soteria, I bet she missed me. Where could I get a meal big enough for her? A late Christmas gift would be appreciated, I’m sure.

“Did you bind the animation spell into the runes or did you make a runic version of the spell?”

“I have no idea how we could do the latter, to be honest,” Fred said after a moment of silence. “Would it be easier?”

“If you want to mass-produce these? For sure. It’s easier to duplicate runes rather than having to charm it on top of it.”

“You have to show us,” said George.

“How is it so sentient?”

“The more magic you put into animation spell, the smarter the object seems to be,” George answered this time. “We noticed in charms and tried it.”

“YOU noticed,” Fred snorted.

“It reminds me of-“

“Don’t say it,” George interrupted me, groaning. “I heard enough Inferni jokes from my worse half.”

“Worse?!” Fred jabbed him, leaning over me. “I would like you to know, I’m your BETTER half!”

“Is this going to be the same fucking argument as the one about who is more handsome?” I smirked and laughed when they grouped up against me and started to tickle me, while chanting: “Who, who is?”

We calmed down after I couldn’t breathe and lay on the grass, watching the dark sky and I felt a twinge of tiredness overcoming my senses. This was a perfect setting for a nap, but I wasn’t prepared to have nightmares in a public space where we are guarded only by a silencing spell. I wonder if someone else saw the fireworks?

“We should go in,” Fred yawned.

“Sleepover in my dorms?” I offered.

“That was given,” George snorted. “Percy would skin us alive if he caught us.”

***(Bonus: Valentine)***

The hated holiday reminded me too much of Lockhart – I wanted to play sick but Marcus physically dragged me from the Slytherin couch, kicking and screaming bloody murder. I was thrown on the seat next to Daphne and other girls dressed in green.

“Happy Valentine, Henry,” Daphne chirped irritatingly. “Do you have flowers for me?”

“When I acquire flowers that emit fucking poisonous pollen? Sure, I will fucking bury you in them.”

“Cruel, Bundy,” one of the Slytherin girls snorted. Tracey Davis, which I know only from roll calls. “I have a feeling you will get a lot of valentines this year.”

“Why the fuck would I get them?”

“Do these words spark anything? Harry Potter, Celebrity, Boy-who-Lived, Heir Potter, Genius?”

“I recognized only the last one,” I muttered and Daphne rolled her eyes over me – I wasn’t looking, I just knew.

“Here, so I’m first,” she put a simple white card on my vacant plate. It had a drawing of an anatomical heart on it and when I opened it, there was simple: Let’s marry for profit, cunt. It almost made me smile, but I pushed it down.

Later, Luna came to me with a dreamy smile and a handful of cards. “I’m an owl!” she gave me her ‘package’ and hooted at me. I deadpanned and watched as she flailed her arms, mimicking a flight while she danced to her class.

I looked into them only because I wanted to know who is crazier than me. None of them wrote their names down, cowards! At least they were fairly normal – none had crazy, big red hearts or kisses drawn on them, only one was pink but it was a dusty shade and not one that would damage my vision.

I recognized writing on three of them – one had writing that also appeared on the last-year card I gained (about which I forgot after the Lockhart debacle), and another was recognized thanks to the fact that I corrected Susan’s essays one too many times. The last one was an obvious joke from Luna, who wrote me a poem.

My favourite pillow,

warm and breathing.

too bony and not at all mellow,

with a mind whirling and heart beating.

I felt that not enough people would make you sappy Valentines,

so I took that burden on my shoulders and stepped over that invisible line(s).

With  <3, Luna.

And the whole thing was covered in bold red hearts, imperfectly drawn by the only bearable Ravenclaw in this whole fucking school. I rolled my eyes at her last verse and huffed amusedly. Oh yes, what a burden.