Chivalrous Shenanigans
Ominis POV:
The road to Hogsmeade was one that I seldom traversed alone. It wasn’t that I found displeasure in the task itself, more so that resulting location. Even with my wand, the path parallel to the forbidden forest could hold many surprises. Ones I was not keen to expose myself too. Not to mention the town itself was an apex of swarming busy bodies.
I had never been one for crowds. The constant chattering, loud noises and close press of bodies often left me disoriented and caused my wand to malfunction. Truth be told, it happened a bit more than I cared to admit. It was a nerve-wracking experience all and all.
However, this is where I found myself. Headed along with the rowdy gaggle of upperclassmen who were off to celebrate the festivities of All Hallows Eve with a couple pints of butterbeer. The air was thick with excitement and a slight chill as the icy fingers of last October brushed past. I wrapped my scarf tighter around my throat, mentally praising myself for adding the additional sweater in my travel bag for later.
There was a buzz coming off my peers that seemed to be catching like wildfire, spreading from one to the other, increasing the volume of chatter. I could pick out the voices of a few of my classmates, but after a bit it all turned into white noise. The cacophony blended together as the dirt road under my shoes was replaced with cobblestone, signaling the entrance to the town proper.
If I had timed this right, which I knew that I had, my query would be somewhere around Spintwitchs if not already in the shop itself. I hastened forward, wand close to my body to avoid any accidents. The din of the crowd pulsed in my ears, giving them a slight ache. The onset of a migraine no doubt. Scowling in discomfort, I pushed forward.
The sooner I find him the sooner we can leave.
As if sensing my apprehension at being out on one of the busiest of holidays, I was guided steady and true to the front of the establishment. The scent of varnish and various types of wood had a calming effect. One big inhale and I pushed open the door and was greeted with a heated discussion. I slowly shut the door behind me, making sure to be as quiet as possible.
“I already told you Mr. Larson I can’t go any lower than 3000 galleons for it.”
Albie Weekes, the proprietor, had a complacent tone to his voice, as if this were a common occurrence between the two. If the gossip was to be believed it was very much a common debate. Larson had been harassing the shopkeeper since the start of the term.
“But Albie, it’s a leftover from last year’s stock. Even at that price no one is going to buy it when you have the latest model in the display! This is highway robbery.”
“Well, if that’s your logic, you are free to purchase the newer model.”
“If I had the funds I would. Can’t you just drop the price on the older one?”
The older man let out a scoff.
“I think 40% off is more than fair for something of this quality.” Weekes chortled, crossing his arms across his chest.
“40% off my foot!” At that he really did stamp his foot.
I chose this moment to clear my throat, making both men turn in my direction, and pulling them out of what I was sure would have devolved into a temper tantrum on the younger man’s part. I could hear the older of the two straighten up and step forward with a forced smile to his voice.
“Ah, Mr. Gaunt. I haven’t seen you in here, well….” He paused and swallowed, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation so as not to insult me. “Since ever really… how can I help you today?”
I twirled my wand in between my fingers, giving off an air of indifference. The pair stood waiting, one patient, the other sulking.
“I’ve come to purchase a broom.”
I heard Mr. Weekes shift his stance. I couldn’t tell if in awe or if in confusion as to why I of all people would have need of a broom. This hadn’t been the intended plan but of course, I did have the money to spare, having amassed quite a tidy sum from the allowance I was sent monthly. My hush money as I called in. I stayed out of sight and mind, a forgotten limb of a shriveling tree, and as a reward was giving means.
Hush, indeed.
“A broom you say? Hmm…well as you can see I hav---” My ears picked up the whoosh of displaced air as he extended his arms, motioning around the room for my sightless eyes.
Andrew let out a laugh. I stood still and tilted my head to the side, a stoic expression showing my disapproval. Realizing his mistake Albie Weekes began to try and back pedal, but continued to put his foot into his mouth.
“If this perchance a gift for someone?” he asked meekly.
“Do you believe me incapable of managing a broom Mr. Weekes?” I stopped twirling my wand and leveled my eyes where his voice was coming from, hoping they met the mark.
There was an audible gulp, but he didn’t speak. The atmosphere in the room shifted, and he seemed almost frightened. It was an odd reaction, most of the time adults reacted in pity or disgust. This was new.
“I am sincerely sorry for my folly. You have my deepest apologies.”
I made to shrug off the incident, feeling bad for the poor man, but he continued.
“If you would like I can offer you our latest model Solar Flare for, say 20% off?”
I stood quietly, contemplating the offer. Taking too long, Weekes tried again a hint of panic in his voice.
“40%? I can add on free repair services as well, it’s a bargain really, one I am sure you would be proud to tell your father of! No finer broom for a finer young gentleman such as yourself.”
My face soured at the mention of Father.
So, that was it. He isn’t afraid of me, he’s afraid of my name. If that’s how he wants to play it then, I might as well. Not like I’m going to keep the broom anyways.
“50%” I said calmly.
“Excuse me? 50%?” Albie was fighting to keep himself composed.
“Hmm… well if that doesn’t sound fair, I understand.”
“No! No, 50%, that’s perfectly reasonable Mr. Gaunt. Would you like the colors changed to emerald to suit your house? I can emboss it as well at no extra cost!”
“No, I’d rather think not. Colors don’t really have any meaning to me. However,”
I pretended to contemplate taking in a deep sigh, and then turned into the direction of where I knew Larson must have been gawking open-mouthed. I had managed to do something he had spent the past couple months attempting and failing to do.
“Larson, are you still here?”
“I am.” Curiosity punctuated his statement.
“Ah, good.”
Turning back to Albie Weekes, I put on the most authoritative tone, brandishing the skills imparted to me since infancy.
“Change the colors to Ravenclaw, he’ll be taking ownership of it at present.”
“WHAT?!?” They both said in unison, one in horror and the other in bliss.
I tilted my head again, an edge catching in my voice.
“Is that not acceptable?”
“Of course, let me grab it off the display.”
“Perfect!” I displayed my teeth, turning back to Andrew. “I will wait for you across the way at Sirona’s.”
The atmosphere within the Three Broomsticks was loud yet comforting. It always smelt faintly sweet, like butterscotch mixed with the astringency of alcohol. I sat perched on one of the high chairs at the edge of the bar, slowly sipping my butterbeer as I waited for the Ravenclaw. Half way through the mug the jangle of the bells attached to the door, alerted those listening to a newcomer.
Footsteps approached my direction, stopping abruptly as they took the seat next to me. It groaned with the added weight, making a sound only I could hear. My hand reached out and slid the second, untouched butterbeer in their direction.
“I owe you one!” Andrew gave my back a hearty slap, elation ringing his statement as he took a large swig from his butterbeer. “I’ve been trying to get Albie to knock down the price of that Solar Flare for months, and BAM! You walk in and get him all rattled! Now I have the latest model. I can’t believe it!”
Andrew downed the remaining liquid in his mug and called for another. Sirona set another mug down as if anticipating this result upon seeing the boy enter her pub, and he began to down that as well. The sound of his hand wiping the excess liquid from his chin was followed by an uncivilized belch. I cringed internally.
“Pardon you.”
“Honestly, though Ominis, I can keep the broom?” he asked in earnest, ignoring my attempt at chastisement.
“Yes, you can keep it. I have no use for it.” Waving my hand in front of my eyes for clarification.
I could feel the smile radiating off of the boy and a sense of pride welled in me. I felt a bit wrong for having allowed Mr. Weekes to stew in fear, and taking away a substantial profit, however I was a bit miffed as well at the rude comments and mention of linage. It was too much to dwell on at present. However, I did make a mental note to leave a few more galleons in his mail slot the next time I came to Hogsmeade.
“Actually, you owe me two now. One of which I would like to redeem at present.”
The Ravenclaw set his mug down, turning towards me. He was a likable chap, though how he hadn’t ended up in Slytherin was beyond me. His penchant for detention was on par with Sallow and that said something. There was never such a person who befuddled me so. Had, he been more approachable, and a little less malicious in our formative years, I rather thought perhaps we could have been friends.
“Two what now?” He seemed a bit confused at the statement, having delved into the euphoria of getting his hands on that elusive broomstick.
“Two favors. One for the little incident involving Thakkar last spring, and the other for the broom just now.”
“Ah, I was wondering when you would be calling that in.” There was a hint of mischief in his voice as I heard the mug drain once again and placed it on the bar. “So, how can I repay me debt?”
Leaning back in my chair, I let out a deep sigh. The chatter of the other patrons concealing us and masking our conversation.
The things we do for those we love.
“As a member of Ravenclaw, I am sure you know my sister, Astraea Gaunt?”
“I do, and I am assuming this is about the Hobhouse situation?”
I couldn’t help but quirk my lips up at that. He was always so quick to catch on although it irked me that he hadn’t let me be privy to the situation prior to my own intervention.
“Very astute. Yes, it is. I would like your help putting a stop to the harassment once and for all. Not just for her, but for the rest of the underclassmen. I feel as if he has some compromised morals, and I would hate for a scandal to break out.”
There was a lull in the conversation as Larson mulled over my words. I could almost hear the cogs turning as he tried to puzzle out all the various strategies on how to achieve this goal. In my own mind I had already decided that this could go one of two ways, both of which I planned to be involved in. He cleared his throat and his chair let out another groan as he shifted.
“I am assuming you would want this to be as discrete as possible? No attachment to you at all?”
I leaned forward, my voice nearly a whisper but loud enough for him to hear.
“Actually, I think it would be wise If I were involved. He needs to know that this is that last time I will tolerate his abhorrent behavior. I want him to know it was me.”
“Excellent, did you have anything in mind?” The smile in his voice was laced with excitement. The multiple possibilities on how to plot revenge clouded around him, making the air warm.
“I do. How would you like to test out that new broom of yours?”
************AUTHORS NOTE**********
Sorry, for the short chapter! This ended up being exceedingly long and I had to cut it where it would make the most sense.
Next week we get to see Larson and Gaunt in action and see how Hobhouse fairs with the revenge schemes!