67: The Gremlins

"This one?"

"Jello-bomb," 

"And this?"

"That one's a favourite of mine! Ton-Tounge Toffees,"

On the large round table conjured by Alaric, there was a colourful pile of various items created by the Weasley twins over the summer. Fred and George took the time to explain each item in detail, and Alaric made sure to remember all of it using Occlumency. It was crucial information, after all. 

Alaric ran his hand along the pile and grabbed another item randomly. Just by looking at it, it appeared to be a simple caramel bonbon, but the hint of a hex emanating from it gave the candy away. 

"Oh, I see you've found the  Bowel Blitz Bites!" Fred said, smirking evilly. "That's a wicked one," 

"...we 'accidentally' gave it to Percy this summer," said George sarcastically. "Poor Perce hardly left the loo for a weekend," 

Carefully, Alaric placed the candy back on the table, unwilling to even breathe near it. 

"I think that's everything," He said, cleaning his hands with an enchanted cloth he took from his robes. "What's the thing you wanted to talk about?"

Indeed, the minute they sat down at the roundtable, the twins had expressed their desire to speak about something. 

"It's nothing special, really," Fred said, revealing a parchment hidden in his pocket. "You could say George and I had a stroke of creativity yesterday," Some names were written on the piece. 

"You see, the greatest help we've ever had at Hogwarts came from them," George placed the Marauder's Map on the table. "Without this map, I'd wager we would've been expelled already," 

"And then we thought: What could we possibly do to honour their help?" Fred continued. "That's when we came up with this," 

Grinning, Fred slid the parchment across the table to Alaric. As he read their idea, Alaric's eyes widened slightly. There were a bunch of scribbled names on it, including their previous one, Mischief Brigade. Above all of those, written in bright red ink, was a name that could only be described as — there was no other word for it — genius.

"The Gremlins!" George said excitedly. "Think about it, Al! Not only is it better than our previous one, but it will leave a mark on this school!" He pointed at the map. "Just like they did," 

Alaric didn't see the need to 'honour' them, per se, but he did share the same excitement as the Weasley twins. After all, he, too, wanted to leave his mark at Hogwarts, be it how his uncle had during his student times or like the Marauders had. From what the three had learned after investigating whatever they could find about the group, — be it with the older professors, paintings, and even the ghosts — the Marauders were truly one of a kind. 

He glanced at the map, and suddenly, an idea came to him. 

"What about..." Alaric grabbed the map. "...we make one of these for ourselves?" 

"You mean... a Gremlin's Map?" Fred asked, and Alaric swore he saw stars in his eyes for a brief moment. 

"A better, cooler, and more useful one!" Alaric said with a grin. 

Fred and George had a look of disbelief on their faces, but remembering Alaric saying he knew the magic behind the map last year, their faces morphed into excitement. 

"We got to celebrate!" Fred exclaimed. 

"And we know just how!" George added with a smirk. 

__________

The clock had just struck half past seven when an ocean of students made their way to the Great Hall for dinner. It'd never been mandatory for them to attend any meals — the feasts being an exception — but most liked to go to bed with a belly full of the food cooked by the kitchen elves. 

Some liked to stay behind in the library, choosing to eat whatever snacks their Common Room had when they returned. Others would just grab food and set off to another part of the castle, opting for a more silent place to eat and hang out with their friends. But all of them had to strictly follow the curfew. 

For the First and Second years, they had to be in their respective Common Room by seven, but if they chose to attend dinner, they would then be led by Prefects afterwards. Third and Fourth years had it more lax, as they only had to return by nine o'clock. Fifth and Sixth years — not counting Prefects — had the castle to roam until around ten. But it was the Seventh year that had it better. As most were legally adults, they could be outside all they wanted until one in the morning — the time most teachers went to bed themselves. 

Of course, the Prefects and respective Head Boy and Head Girl could roam at night all they wanted, but they had to be on duty most of that time. 

Like all dinners, the students had to find a seat at their respective tables, each decorated with the colour of the house they represented. 

Candlelight illuminated the hall, while the enchanted ceiling above roared with thunder, a model of the weather outside castle walls. Chatter quickly filled the large chamber; students sat with their friends, recounting the first day of the new school year. 

A large commotion had formed around a group of older Ravenclaw students, each giving their opinion on the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. All of them were different, except they seemed to be all praises. 

Some Hufflepuff girls were happily talking about their first Muggle Studies class at their table; apparently, Professor Potter had made sure to make all of their students feel welcomed since the beginning, even those who had no prior knowledge of the Muggle world, and could barely work out what a pen was for. 

However, what truly had the Hall in a chokehold was what had happened in the first Care of Magical Creatures class. A lot of theories were being circulated among those who hadn't been present. Either that Hagrid had let the hippogriff loose, or that the animal itself had rabies. Some speculated that Draco forgot to bow before approaching the creature, but those were little in number. 

And the reason behind it sat at the Slytherin table, occasionally releasing pained moans and grunts. 

"I could've gotten my arm amputated," Draco said with a sigh to a group of low-IQ individuals. "But I was able to dodge on time, and the animal only managed to bite some of my arm," 

"Does it hurt Draco?" asked Pancy Parkison, her voice filled with worry. 

"Immensely," He said dramatically. "My father will have a fit when I tell him they have that oaf teaching classes," 

On the opposite table, five Gryffindors were leaning forward, having a heated discussion. 

"I've told you already, Hermione! Mum's going to have a talk with the headmaster. Explain what really happened," Harry hissed under his breath, making sure no one else apart from his friends heard him. 

"But you know how Draco's father is! He'll definitely try to get Hagrid fired!" said Hermione worrily. 

Meanwhile, Ron was looking intently at Draco. 

"Look at him," he said with a frown. "Why's that slimy git lying for? He insulted Buckbeak!" 

"After three years, you still ask that?" said Hope in bewilderment. "For attention, you tosser! And because he hates Hagrid!" 

"Why would he hate Hagrid?" Ron asked, confused. 

"Because Hagrid's a half-breed," Hermione, who had finished her argument with Harry, chimed in. "It's not like it makes him lesser than us, but the Malfoys seem to hate everything that's not fully wizard or witch," 

"And because Hagrid made him come with us in that detention in the Forbidden Forest," Lysandra, who had been quiet until now, spoke. 

"Oh, yeah, I remember that," Ron said, taking a bite from a grapefruit. 

"I don't," Harry commented. "My mind feels foggy whenever I try to remember..." 

"Maybe..." Hermione spoke in a whisper. "...it's because You-Know-Who was there," 

"But I clearly remember the night he tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone," Harry said, scratching his head. "Everything was clear until Quirrel touched me and his hand burned," 

Hope, who was listening closely, seemed to remember something. 

"Speaking of that detention," She turned to Lysandra. "What happened to that large pet raven of yours?" 

Lysandra, hearing the question, stopped staring at the empty seat beside Alaric's friends. 

"Er—" She quickly tried to come up with an excuse. "He, uh... He's my mother's pet, actually," She said with a quivering smile. 

"Oh," said Hope in disappointment. "Shame. It was cute," 

Whilst eating absentmindedly, Lysandra kept wondering where her brother could possibly be. It was during Hagrid's class that she felt her ring tremble, and since then, she knew something was up with it. She had hoped to speak with him at dinner, and maybe have him see the ring. 

It was one of her most important belongings; the symbol of the connection with the person she cared for the most — even if she didn't show it at times. 

__________

Usually, some professor would come down and dine with the students, but it wasn't every day the headmaster himself came down from his office to attend dinner — outside feasts, of course. 

His plans hadn't consisted of coming to the Great Hall at the end of the day, but after a talk with Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey because of the incident in the afternoon, he was craving some meat pie. 

"Headmaster, may I speak with you?" 

Dumbledore had been quietly listening to the professors' conversations, along with some chit-chat from the nearest students — he was old, but he always enjoyed a bit of gossip — when the person to his left spoke to him. 

Delicately cleaning the small crumble on his beard, he turned to look at one of the newest professors, Lily Potter. 

"No need to treat me so formally, Lily. Go ahead," he said with his usual grandfatherly smile. Dumbledore found that it would make people more at ease and honest with him. 

"I've been meaning to speak with you since I heard what happened," Lily said nervously. Even after all these years, she still felt like a lost little girl in front of Albus Dumbledore. "Hagrid, he's... uhh... I'm s-sure Hagrid never meant for the hippogriff to attack Draco. H-He must've simply been careless. He'll definitely be more careful—"

"I assure you, Lily, it never crossed my mind the possibility of firing Professor Hagrid," He said, calming her down. "He's a fine teacher and an even finer Gamekeeper. I doubt we would have it easy, finding a replacement," 

"Oh, thank Merlin..." Lily sighed in relief. 

Dumbledore meant everything he said. Hagrid might not have a talent for magic, but he truly was a good man; something the headmaster valued immensely. 

Lily resumed eating, stabbing her fork on a small piece of pork, but the headmaster had not yet finished speaking. 

"Pardon my intrusion, Lily," He said, his eyes gleaming. "But I have to ask. How's your relationship with Professor Snape?" 

Hearing the question, Lily almost dropped the fork on her lap. Her face, which was previously filled with relief, was now displaying an almost palpable sadness. 

"Worse than I thought, headmaster," She said in a melancholic tone. "After all these years, I thought we could start from scratch and have a proper friendship, but it seems I was too foolish," 

"How so?"

"Severus refuses to speak to me," Lily continued, placing her cutlery back on the table. "I hoped he would've forgiven as I did," She said, and with reason. Snape had called her the most derogatory word he could possibly have, and twenty years ago, it had an even greater impact than it has now. 

"I believe that, with time, he'll come around," Dumbledore assured her. 

After Lily thanked him and left, the headmaster found himself thinking about all those years ago. About the time when a talented wizard attended the school during the prime of Lord Voldemort. His attachment to a girl he'd known from before. And how he lost it all. 

When Dumbledore thought of those times and looked between where Lysandra was and Alaric's empty seat, he didn't like the similarities he could see.

**********

A/N: Some fun next chapter to forget for a moment all of this angst!

Fun fact! If you look closely, you'll notice that the scars on Harry's head on the book cover and in the film are different. In the books, the scar is in the middle of his forehead. In the films, it's off-centre.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!