Disclaimer: Joss Wheedon and JK Rowling are very talented and fortunate people. I claim nothing of their works, I merely toy with them for a while.
It was Harry’s third year, a month until Halloween to be exact. The hunt for the Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black, was well underway in both the muggle and magical worlds.
A carefully cloaked and cowled figure slipped into Borgin and Burke’s shop. A murmured discussion was had with the proprietor, followed by the furtive exchange of goods; a large sack of golden galleons for a brown paper and string wrapped parcel.
The cloaked figure slipped out of the shop and quickly faded into the shadows of Nocturn Alley.
Albus Dumbledore looked at his fellow educators. “You will all admit that morale among the student body is at an all time low. The constant presence of the Dementors is crushing their will to learn.”
“What can be done, Headmaster? The constant threat of that murderer, Sirius Black, coming after Mr. Potter necessitates their presence.” The diminutive charms professor squeaked from the other side of the table.
“Indeed Filius, however with the yearly celebration of Halloween approaching, I have received an excellent suggestion from one of the parents. There is a muggle custom…” Albus ignored the murmurs and groans from his staff, “A muggle custom, wherein children garb themselves in the guise of their heroes and role models, or in the guise of monsters and villains, and travel from house to house gathering delicious treats from the adults within. Trick or Treat, the muggles call it.”
Snape rolled his eyes, “I will have to abstain, Headmaster. All Hallows Eve is an important time for brewing certain potions.”
“Very well Severus. Will the rest of you be available to supervise the children down in Hogsmeade in the early evening? Good good, I will announce it tonight in the great hall.”
Glittering canine eyes followed a group of Hufflepuffs as they passed it’s hiding place.
“Halloween. My cousin in the colonies wrote about that. He dressed up as Ygvenny Petrov, the famous Bulgarian Beater. Said he wound up with several months worth of candy and several kisses from a number of rather attractive ladies.” The boy was blushing at the memory of what his cousin had actually written.
His friends appeared suitably impressed.
“What will we dress as? I don’t think dressing as a ‘Student of Hogwarts’ will get us a lot of candy.,” another boy said.
“I’m thinking of dressing up as a vampire. I can transfigure a pair of fangs, and some fake blood, and dress in an old set of robes that I’ve torn up and rubbed dirt all over,” the third boy spoke thoughtfully.
“I might have to owl my parents for some extra costuming supplies,” the first boy added ruefully.
As the voices faded down the corridor, the canine eyes slipped back into the darkness and the entrance to a hidden passageway snapped closed.
The weekend before Halloween was, as usual, declared a Hogsmeade weekend; and the student body was taking full advantage of this fact.
Particularly once it became known that a new shop had opened up. ‘Grim Garb’ was a disturbingly festive costume shop filled with Halloween paraphernalia. Costumes, both muggle and wizarding, lined the walls and shelving between.
Hermione and Ron had met up with Harry (who was under his invisibility cloak) and were now all browsing the racks.
Ron was admiring a roman soldier’s breastplate when a gravely voice spoke behind him, “You appear in need of a little…assistance.”
Ron spun around, his wand almost halfway out, “Who? Wha…?”
“Peace, gentle shopper. I am Padamus Grim, proprietor of this fine establishment.” His hands were spread wide and empty, “Now why don’t you tell your invisible friend to reveal himself and we can see about getting you all into costumes.”
Ron looked at the rather scruffy man in a little shock. “What do you mean?”
Hermione came up beside Ron, “You must be mistaken, Sir. There is only the two of us here.”
The shopkeeper smirked, “Indeed? Then it was merely a whim that had you holding my entrance open so long upon your arrival? An errant breeze that set yonder rack a swaying long after all movement ceased?”
Harry sighed, and removed his invisibility cloak.
“Harry! You can’t be seen down here,” Hermione scolded.
“He knew I was here,” Harry looked up at the shopkeeper. “I am afraid that I do not have permission to be in Hogsmeade today.”
Mr. Grim’s smile grew wider at that admission, “I’ll tell you what. Buy something from me, and I’ll forget I saw you here today.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll even do you a bargain on a matched set of costumes to help cover up your presence here today. It will be more believable that your friends purchased your costume for you.”
The three teens eyes brightened at that thought.
“Has anything caught your eye Mr. Potter?”
“Sort of, and please call me Harry. This is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.”
“Ah, Gryffindor’s Golden Trio. A pleasure to be sure.” He shook all three of their hands, but especially Harry’s. “You had your eye on something?”
“This pirate costume caught my eye.”
“Really? Let me see. Ah ha. This is no mere pirate costume Harry. This is the garb of a mighty warrior for the light. I’m told it was from a popular muggle entertainment. There are a number of matching outfits. I’ve already sold several of the less important characters. Hmmm.”
Hermione looked outside, “It’s getting late. We have to get Harry back before someone comes looking for him.”
Harry laughed, “We’ll take them, assuming they fit.”
“They have been enchanted to fit…within certain limits. I am afraid the main costume will not fit you Miss Granger, being designed as it was for a young lady of smaller stature.”
“We could get it for Ginny,” Harry said to Ron.
Ron glanced at the momentarily visible price tag, and shook his head thinking about the very limited budget he had.
Harry clipped him upside the head, “I’ll pay, and it’s not like I have any other use for this money.”
Ron started turning red. “We won’t accept cha…”
“Now now, no need for any of that. Please, take the four costumes with my regards, and my thanks for your saving us all twelve years ago.” The scruffy man had a kindly look on his face momentarily.
The three couldn’t believe their ears and were quickly bundled up with the four costumes, Harry once more hidden under his cloak, and all three ushered out of the shop with great rapidity.
By the time Albus Dumbledore could find the time to wander down to Hogsmeade a couple of days later, the shop stood empty once more.
Hermione and Ginny were helping each other with their costumes.
“High heeled boots?” Ginny asked, exasperated. “What kind of champion of the light wears high heeled boots?”
“You think that’s a problem? Try putting in these contact lenses. Ah done.” The older girl turned to her friend, “How do they look?”
“Wow. They glow white.”
“Really? Matches the wig then.” She struggled for a moment with that final addition to her costume. “Done. How are you doing?” Hermione looked at her friend just in time for her to fall over. She laughed.
“Bloody heels. I love the leather pants, but these heels are killing me.”
Lavender Brown looked up from her Witches Weekly, waved her wand absently and muttered something. The heels on the boots shrunk about an inch and the boots reconfigured to suit. “Better?”
“Thanks Lav.” Ginny stood up, finally able to keep her balance, “Now I just have to figure out what to do with this thing.” She held up a strange axe like weapon.
Hermione shrugged, “Lets go then. Coming Lavender?”
“Nope. Family tradition. Stay indoors on Halloween.” She grinned, “’sides, I think the bath is going to be all mine for the next few hours and I deserve a long soak.”
Hermione and Ginny smiled at that thought and headed out to the common room.
Ron was dressed in rugged muggle clothes, with a pair of glasses and a worn, one might even say ‘battleworn’ leather jacket over the top. His hair was now dark, and his pockets were filled with a range of odds and ends mostly beyond his understanding, though he recognised a few of them from DADA.
Harry, slouching against the wall beside him, was dressed in bloodstained and worn muggle clothes, his glasses were absent and a black eyepatch covered one eye.
Both boys also carried a rather authentic looking medieval weapon.
Harry gasped as he saw Hermione and Ginny descend the final steps into the common room.
Ron’s jaw dropped when he saw Hermione, dressed in muggle clothes that had seemingly faded mostly into white. With her white hair and glowing white eyes, she struck quite an image. “Bloody…”
Ginny rolled her eyes and poked her brother with the axe thingy. “Come on, we have to get down to Hogsmeade before all the candy is gone.”
The four pulled themselves together and headed out of the castle.
In a cave on a hillside overlooking Hogsmeade, a scruffy looking man was unwrapping a brown paper and string wrapped package. Carefully opening it to reveal a worn leatherbound book, a number of packets of herbs and dusts, and finally…an ancient bust of Janus, the double faced god of gates and doorways.
Hours later, his preparations complete, the scruffy mage began a long complex invocation in latin.
Harry and his friends had had quite a successful night thus far.
One brief incident with Draco Malfoy who, originally enough, had dressed up as the Dark Lord himself, and had been chased off by thirty-odd sugar hyped ‘Harry Potters’ (led by Colin Creevy) had set the evening off to a good start.
The Trio plus Ginny had retreated to The Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer before it was time for curfew.
The invocation complete, a pulse of magic washed out across Hogsmeade, crashing up against the monolithic wards of Hogwarts like a wave hitting a cliff, before seeping in through hidden fissures and tunnels. Nowhere was exempt.
Willow shuddered as the wash of an incredibly powerful spell receded from her. Her eyes were closed, but the area she was in was definitely not a Hellmouth. The sheer amount of magic, casual magic, staggered her senses. Opening her eyes didn’t help her any. “Um…where am I?
” She blinked a couple of times at the sound of her own voice, resonant with the power she could feel flowing through and around her.
Buffy shook her head, she had been sunbathing in Ibiza, now she appeared to be sitting in a quaint English pub. “Willow? What did you do?” She looked at the woman sitting beside her, “What’s with the white?”
Xander blinked his eye. “Willow? Buffy?” Considering that moments before he had been in middle Africa catching a nap before the next evening’s slayage with the local mini-slayers, he was quite surprised to find himself in an olde English pub. “Wills? Did you summon me or…hang on.”
“What in the blazes? Miss Rosenberg? Have I been brought back from the dead?” The harsh formality in Wesley’s voice snapped them out of their surprise.
“A spell of substantial power has occurred here, but I did not cast it.
” Willow shook her head slightly.
Xander was looking from one to the other, “Um, something very screwy is going on here. None of you look like yourselves, but I can see quite clearly that we are us.” He shrugged, “It’s kinda like an overlay.”
Willow tilted her head to the side, considering, “Yes, I can see it as well. The children you are currently possessing are all magi. This spell stinks of chaos.
“BLOODY ETHAN RAYNE! I swear I’m going to do to him what I threatened Whistler with when we catch him.” Buffy crushed the pewter mug in front of her and stood up, “Where is the effect centred?”
“North of here. I can shift us all there easily.
The other three stood. Willow gestured.
The four of them found themselves on a hillside near a cave.
A rather scruffy man was just exiting the cave. He stopped very suddenly upon noticing the four before him. “Ah, can I help you with something?”
“He isn’t Ethan Rayne. Damn.” Xander sounded a little…disappointed.
“The stench of chaos lies about him.
” Willow flicked he finger in his general direction, binding his body into immobility.
Buffy stepped forward, the Scythe pressing against his throat. “Perhaps you would like to explain why you brought us here tonight, Mr Chaos Mage.” It wasn’t a request.
Sirius Black was sweating. “It was a bit of a prank.”
“People are going to get hurt by your prank. I hope you’ve got a better reason than that for all this…” The threat didn’t need to be completed. Despite her size, Buffy was good at intimidation.
“I needed a way to distract the population so I could get into that castle to capture…kill the traitor.” Sirius could feel the edge of the Scythe beginning to cut into his neck. “I swear. On my magic.” A faint pulse of light lit up around him.
Buffy’s eyes narrowed, and she tensed to slice his throat. A firm grip on her arm stopped her.
“He speaks truth. But that does not explain why you brought US here, and why in this form?
” Willow lowered him to the ground, releasing him from the spell.
Sirius rubbed his neck where it stung from the Scythe’s cut, “My Godson is the subject of a Prophesy…” He was interrupted by several groans, “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a group of fictional heroes turn up in his and his friends bodies for the night.”
Wesley looked over at Xander, then back at the man, “Why do you need the chaos? Why not just reveal the identity of the traitor to the Authorities?”
“Because I spent the last twelve years in gaol because those same authorities believe I am the traitor.”
“We’re fictional here?” Xander asked, his eye closely examining the man.
“Yes. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A rather lacklustre movie followed some years later by a rather brilliant television series. Not that the majority of the wizards and witches down there would have ever heard of you. The mundane world is a little beyond them.” He shrugged, “But if you don’t mind, I’m likely to have the Authorities coming down on my head any minute now, and would prefer to capture the Rat before I, myself, am captured.”
He started to step past them, but was stopped by Xander holding an axe in his way. “Want a hand?”
With Willow’s assistance, it took Sirius Black less than ten minutes to locate and then capture Peter Pettigrew.
It was unanimously decided by the Scoobies that the opportunity to just kick back and relax for a few hours was well worth a little chaos. They had returned to the settlement and the tavern within it and were experimenting with the local beverage, Butterbeer.
“So? Non-alcoholic, huh?” Buffy grinned, “No cave-Buffy tonight.”
Everyone laughed. Over the past hour a surprising number of Sunnydale refugees had surfaced. Tara was snuggling with Willow, who had initially broken down in tears, but was now coming to terms with her lovers death so many years before.
Angel and Cordelia were off to one side with Wesley and Gunn, quietly discussing the fifth member of their group, the blue skinned Illyria.
Spike was collecting another round of drinks for the core Scoobies, and would be returning to the seat beside Buffy momentarily.
And a whole bunch of mini-slayers were crowded around Faith and Xander.
Suddenly the door slammed open, sending a momentary silence through the room as hands everywhere reached for weapons casually set beside chairs or on tables. As the figure stepped into the light, it removed the glasses from his face and quickly polished them, restoring them to his face with a quietly muttered “Good Lord.”
“GILES!” The shout came from some twenty odd throats.
Giles was wearing the body of an adult, seeming worn for his age, with prematurely greying brown hair. He moved slowly to where the core Scoobies sat. “There are an awfully large number of magi concentrated in this one location.”
“Glad you could make it. Just about everyone else is here. Even Jonathan and Andrew.” Buffy indicated the corner where a somewhat pudgier Andrew and a rather over-tall Jonathan were discussing the relative merits of Imperial vs. New Republic Star Destroyer designs.
“I take it that Ethan has already been taken care of.” It wasn’t a question. Giles voice had gone sub-arctic as he spoke the name of his one-time partner-in-crime.
“Ethan Rayne was not involved. One of the locals unearthed a similar ritual and performed it in the hope of distracting the Authorities. I have observed him to have been successful.
” Willow had a slightly far-away look and appeared distracted. “Although if that little man casts that construct into the sky above this village one more time, I am taking off the kid gloves. It reeks of evil.
Riley Finn glanced out the window just in time to see a huge glowing green skull reappear above the town. “It’s back.” He shook his head, “Looks like we’re not the only ones interested though.”
Harry was not amused. Someone had obviously gotten hold of a significant quantity of his hair and had handed out doses of Polyjuice to half the students in the school…who were all running around Hogsmeade pretending to be him. Which was weird, because he was sure he had planned on going dressed as someone named Alexander Harris. He paused as another of himself eyed him suspiciously.
They were both about to speak, when a flare of green light lit up the street once more.
“The Dark Mark.” They both said simultaneously, “The Death Eaters must be attacking. I’ll go deal with it. You go and get some reinforcements…” They glared at each other, “No you.”
They both paused to think for a moment, during which a third Harry stepped out of the nearby shadows. “I don’t suppose either of you has a time turner, do you?” All three asked simultaneously.
Another pair of Harry’s came around the corner, drawn by the Dark Mark. “I expect Hermione will be able to explain this.” They said to the three before them, “For now, let us join forces against the greater threat.”
A taller, grimmer Harry stalked down the street, garbed in dragonhide and wielding the Sword of Gryffindor with practiced ease, pausing to consider the gathered Harry’s. “You are all Harry Potter. It’s a trick being played by a chaos worshipper. We will turn their trick against them. Follow me, we will defeat this foe, and then I have something you all need to know.”
“Who are you?” Several of the gathered Harry’s asked.
“I am the future you.” He strode forward confidently, “I know what Dumbledore is hiding from you.”
Voldemort was confused. He could have sworn he had been floating around somewhere in the forests of Albania just moments before. Now he was fully manifest, in a body, on the edge of Hogsmeade. Around him were several of his Death Eaters, something was not quite right though.
“You two, what is this?” He snarled, quietly hoping, in the quietest most hidden part of his mind, that they knew what was happening here.
The two looked at each other, then back at him. The one on the left answered, “My Lord, I fear some kind of trick. Only moments ago, I was in my manor.”
“Indeed, my Lord,” the second one drawled, “I was only moments ago in my private laboratory preparing several rather costly potions. Sadly, I fear they may be ruined by now.”
The dark lord narrowed his eyes at his two followers; “There is something strange here.”
“If I may ask a question, my Lord,” Lucius Malfoy was on his knees now.
“When did you see fit to possess my son, Draco?”
Voldemort conjured a mirror, “I see, this is the body of your son, Lucius? I wonder.”
Voldemort looked within himself. Minutes passed. Finally he looked at the four Death Eaters gathered before him. “It would appear that your son, Lucius, saw fit to impersonate me for some form of muggle celebration of All Hallows Eve. Crucio.” He held the pain curse on the writhing figure for only a few moments. “I cannot complain, however, since it has proven to be a more effective means of resurrection than any I had previously considered.”
He knelt beside Lucius, grasped his arm, and touched his wand to the Dark Mark blazing away merrily on the man’s elbow.
Across the country, otherwise respectable citizens of the magical community gasped with pain, grasping their left arms in shock as they felt the first summons from their Lord in twelve years.
Some panicked and hid themselves. Some panicked and set about getting out of the country. Some ignored the call altogether.
The remainder, those too cowardly or too loyal, apparrated to the edge of Hogsmeade.
The sight that greeted them upon their arrival was not what they had expected. Walden McNair was curled up in a foetal ball, held there under the power of the Cruciatus curse being cast by the son of Lucius Malfoy.
“Now tell me, McNair. Was that the Cruciatus of a third year Hogwarts student? Or was it the Cruciatus of your Lord and Master?”
McNair pulled himself out of his shock, and crawled to the boy’s feet. “Forgive me, my Lord. I could not have known.”
“Rise. I am told it is Halloween, and the children have been let loose on Hogsmeade. I think it would be the perfect time to remind the wizarding world that we do not approve of Mudbloods attending our most prestigious school.”
The Death Eaters followed as the newly arisen Voldemort led them into town. Almost as an afterthought, one of the LeStrange’s threw up the Dark Mark.
Things had gone well for the first few minutes, it had been easy to find muggleborn students to torture.
Then Harry Potter had arrived.
Then another couple of Harry Potter’s arrived.
Several miscellaneous Aurors had turned up as well, led by someone claiming to be Frank Longbottom.
Moments after the arrival of the fourth, fifth, and sixth Harry Potter; the Dark Mark was torn down by an unknown party.
Voldemort threw up the next one, while duelling an Auror and a pair of Harry Potters. It lasted only seconds.
By the fifth Dark Mark, Voldemort was getting very annoyed. Enraged even.
He put all of his strength, anger and hatred into the sixth…along with a spell to identify who tampers with it. He would get them this time.
The entire Sunnydale crew stormed out of the Three Broomsticks, Xander and Buffy in the lead, straight into a large number of Harry Potters.
Most of the Harry’s were staring at Xander.
One of the Harry’s stepped forward, “I thought I had dressed up like you.”
Xander grinned, “I did. We’ve seen this before. It is Halloween, and everyone has turned into what they dressed as. It would appear that you all dressed as the same person.”
A Harry near the back of the crowd spoke up, “Didn’t Draco dress up as Voldemort?”
The Future Harry looked unhappy, “If he did, then he is the source of all these Dark Marks. Lets go kick his arse.”
The Harrys and the Scoobies cheered, and charged off to engage the Death Eaters.
Willow was standing off to one side. With her were Tara, Giles and Cordelia.
“We have two options.
” Willow was watching the actions of the many Harrys. “We can end the spell, sending everyone and everything back whence they came. Or we can leave a little of ourselves in our Hosts to aid them in their coming battles.
“They do have a chosen one. We can’t just leave without helping him a little.” Tara spoke quietly, but seriously.
“What good is it really going to do him if all he’s getting from this is a bit of Xander, though?” Cordelia sounded curious rather than scornful.
“I rather suspect this is an All-Or-Nothing deal, isn’t it Willow?” Giles was also watching the many Harry’s in action.
“Correct. If I affect the spell at all, it will affect all the subjects. Even that boy who thinks he is a Dark Lord. On the other hand, having once possessed the boy, the shade of this Dark Lord will find it easy to return even after the spell is ended.
“Well then, if the Dark Lord is going to benefit anyway, we might as well. The Power’s help that poor kid though.” Cordelia was pointing in the general direction of Faith.
Willow looked at Giles and Tara, who both nodded slowly. With a flick of her wrist, the statue from the cave was suddenly in her hand.
Everyone and everything on the battlefield froze momentarily, the spells still in the air slowed to a halt, unweaving and dispersing within moments. Those with sufficient power to somewhat resist her, turned to face Willow.
Voldemort suddenly recognised the power that had been vexing him all evening. “What is the meaning of this?”
A wave of power pulsed out of her, dropping everyone in its path. Only Voldemort retained his feet, but was too groggy to interfere in time.
“Freely given these gifts shall be, unbidden guests turn free, from malice no profits see, an it harms none, so mote it be.
” As she spoke, Willow drew in all the power in the local area, draining the wards and structures, and pouring it all into the statue of Janus. With her final word she smashed the bust on the flagstones at her feet.
The Ministry response was swift.
But not really unexpected. Considering two children had dressed as Kingsley Shacklebolt, one as Alastor ‘Mad-eye’ Moody, and several as notable American and German Aurors, they had been quick to respond upon awakening in their homes and workplaces, and rushed to Hogsmeade.
Where they found the remains of the battle, and a number of adult Death Eaters amongst the children. They were quickly captured, questioned and sent on a fast route to Azkaban.
They also found a smiling Sirius Black with an alive and slightly battered Peter Pettigrew. Both were questioned on the spot with Veritaserum. To the shock of many of the responding officials, Black was found innocent of all charges…and pardoned on the spot by a very embarrassed Fudge, for his escape from Azkaban.
The majority of children were unharmed.
There were scars left by the event, however. Most notably, the lightning bolt shaped scars on the foreheads of the thirty-one children who had dressed as Harry Potter.
Several days later.
Neville Longbottom was sitting on a grassy knoll overlooking the lake.
Harry approached from the side, careful to ensure he was within his friends’ line of sight.
“This is the spot.”
Harry cocked his head questioningly.
“This is the spot where my father proposed to my mother.” Neville looked up at Harry, “It changes everything. I no longer wonder.”
Harry nodded in understanding, “I’m happy for you. It’s a question I have had unanswered my entire life. I expect Sirius will be able to help though.” He handed Neville a plastic-wrapped object, and began unwrapping his own.
“How are the girls coping?” Neville unwrapped and examined the toxic-looking cylinder in his hand.
“Half the boys in Gryffindor are me, and most of the girls are relearning how to hold delicate objects without crushing them. You know, delicate things, like iron bars and lumps of granite.” Harry paused and stuffed the entire Twinkie into his mouth.
Neville shook his head and took a nibble from the snack cake, “What about Hermione and Luna?”
Harry swallowed a look of satisfaction on his face, “Neither has been seen since the morning after. I do know they are together though, and Hermione is getting a better handle on it all. Her hair turned back to brown last night.”
Neville nodded. “So. What now?”
Harry’s gaze wandered out over the lake, “Now we find out where we are, and move on from there. I had a word with Dumbledore this morning. Everyone is going to be evaluated. Effectively we will be having the Owl and Newt examinations immediately.”
“Snape’s going to love teaching a combined first, second and third year class of you’s,” Neville chuckled. “What about Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle?”
Harry’s mood darkened, “Malfoy has been detained by the Ministry as an accomplice to the Dark Lord. Crabbe and Goyle on the other hand have claimed they were forced to do it by the nameless Death Eaters they dressed up as. Both were quite articulate on the issue.”
Neville snorted derisively, “In other words, they know damn well who they dressed up as, but have suddenly gained some of that famous Slytherin cunning, and are keeping quiet. Fine with me, as long as they behave, we won’t have to bring them down.”
Harry shook his head, sardonic grin in place, “Not that that will be half the problem it would have been, given that the Auror’s ranks have been bolstered by the new ‘Reserve Aurors’.”
“Ministry had to do something to accommodate all the teens running around with the knowledge and instincts of seasoned Aurors. There would have been riots.” Neville popped the rest of the twinkie into his mouth.
“Led by you,” Harry retorted.
Neville half laughed, then erupted into a coughing fit, finally spitting out a chunk of twinkie after Harry thumped his back a couple of times. “Bastard.”
“Did any explanation for why Dumbledore didn’t get involved come to light?”
“No. And he’s copping a lot of flak because of that.” Neville growled.
Flashback. An hour before the spell activated.
Two furtive figures sat in the corner of the Hogs Head sipping Butterbeers.
After a few minutes, another figure approached them. Tall, thin and grumpy looking, the grey bearded man paused to consider the young men at the table before joining them.
“You have the…goods?” He peered over his glasses at the two redheads.
“Right here.” “Three scales.” “From a basilisk.” “Do you.” “Have what we.” “Asked for?”
The old man appeared to have little difficulty following the twins’ speech, “Indeed. A pair of Albus’ glasses and,” He placed first one pair of glasses on the table, and then removed his own, setting them beside the first set. “My own. I cannot imagine what you need them for, but for three genuine basilisk scales, I am more than happy to assist.” He gingerly picked up the small vial containing the precious scales.
“They will.” “Add verisimilitude.” “To our costumes.” “This evening.”
“Ah yes, I heard about Albus’ idea for All Hallows Eve.” He chuckled, “Come back some time and tell me how it goes.” He stood and returned to his bartending.
The twins quickly left the building, barely containing their merriment. Their costumes were complete.
It was hard trying to avoid using ideas gleaned from so many multitudinous sources. But the one I couldn't resist was the fake name Sirius Black uses. Padamus Grim. My little tribute to "Make A Wish" by Rorschach's Blot. It was a brilliant story, and it's both a shame and a relief that is has ended. Thank you.