Chapter 291: Be Tough on Yourself
Chapter 291: Be Tough on Yourself
The cold wind whipped up a wintry mix of rain and snow, pelting the castle windows with a relentless patter, and the chill that permeated the air around the castle seeped inside along with this arctic blast, causing many students to fall ill.
Had this cold snap arrived a week earlier, the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match would likely have been a much less eventful affair.
Even in such inclement weather, the Quidditch match would not be canceled. One could easily imagine the players shivering and their focus wavering, leaving little room for mischief.
In the dreary corridor, three figures hurried along, glancing around surreptitiously. Only after confirming that the coast was clear did they swiftly pass through the thrice-enchanted stone wall and enter through the hidden door that appeared.
As they stepped inside, a warm, comforting aroma, faintly scented with milk, greeted them. Beyond the door lay a bright, cozy room with a thick carpet on the floor and a roaring fire in the fireplace.
By the fireside, a familiar figure sat in an armchair, a small round table in front of him bearing a steaming cup of milk tea.
"Aren't you supposed to be sick?" Fred asked, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the rosy-cheeked visage of his roommate.
"Yeah, Madam Pomfrey just cured me," Albert, the erstwhile patient, replied without looking up from the parchment in his hands. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter if I attend History of Magic or not, as long as I don't fail the exam."
"Why can't I be the one who's sick!" George exclaimed, jealous of Albert's situation. He, too, wanted an excuse to skip class.
To be honest, History of Magic was universally acknowledged by students as the most boring subject. The ghost, Professor Binns, had probably lived too long, resulting in an extremely rigid mindset and a lecturing style that was so dull it could put one to sleep.
"You guys can figure out a way to legally skip class with a valid excuse," Albert suggested without hesitation.
"Hearing that from you is quite surprising!" Fred muttered. "What kind of excuse do you suggest, other than diarrhea? I certainly don't want to resort to a strong laxative. I've never forgotten the unfortunate plight of Marcus McLaggen."
As Fred spoke, George pulled out the photo that had been treated with Revelaso Charm, clearly showing Marcus McLaggen's embarrassing moment.
The trio burst into laughter again as they looked at the hapless individual in the photo.
"Are you not afraid of Marcus McLaggen finding out it was you who played this prank on him?" Albert was speechless. Carrying around evidence like that was just asking for trouble. Were they that eager to stir up more mischief?
"Oh, alright. Next time, I'll put it in a picture frame," Fred said with a wink. "Now, what potion would be good for skipping class? Any suggestions?"
"How about stomachaches?" Lee Jordan suggested, listing some symptoms: "Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, nosebleeds, fever, or a cold?"
"Don't joke about that. No one would make themselves sick just to skip class," George refuted, shaking his head. He wasn't that ruthless to harm himself just to get out of attending classes.
"Unless we can find a quick remedy to alleviate the symptoms in a short time," Fred said, his eyes lighting up as he pulled out a quill to jot down the idea. "If we can make that happen, I think it would sell really well. There would probably be a huge demand for it at Hogwarts."
"Oh, I almost forgot what I wanted to tell you!"
"What is it?" Albert asked.
"Kenneth Towle has been put in detention by Filch!" Fred and George exclaimed in unison, their eyes sparkling with mischief. "He was caught using a Dungbomb inside the school, and now that poor sod is being made to scrub the corridors clean of all traces of dung."
"Did you two do that?" Albert raised an eyebrow, as if it were obvious who was behind this prank.
"Of course! We've been practicing the Disillusionment Charm, and now we're quite adept at it," George replied, feeling particularly pleased with himself for pulling one over on Kenneth Towle.
"I think they might guess who did it if he's careful enough." Albert reminded them. "Kenneth Towle isn't as sharp as you, though," the twins replied, unconcerned about being found out.
"What are you up to?" Lee Jordan asked, his curiosity piqued as he eyed the silver components on the table. Albert seemed to be crafting another intriguing magical device.
"I'm working on a self-defense gadget that can knock someone out when they least expect it." Albert was in the process of assembling a three-layer combo that resembled a lighter. With a gentle push, it opened to reveal a strange honeycomb-shaped cylinder. The cylinder's interior would be expanded using the Undetectable Extension Charm to accommodate the pickled mandrake root.
This device was merely a shell at the moment.
Albert tested it a few more times to ensure it didn't jam before carefully disassembling it and placing the parts back into the box.
He dubbed this dark magic item the "Banshee's Wail," and it was almost complete. The final step was to place the salt-pickled mandrake root inside. Once it was confirmed that the device could contain and control the mandrake root, it would be a successful and practical tool.
Of course, using it was another matter, as one had to remember to wear earplugs, or they would suffer the consequences along with their target.
After all, the cry of the mandrake root affected anyone within range.
"Knock someone out?" George asked, confused. "Can't we just use the Stunning Spell?"
"No, I call it the Banshee's Wail for a reason."
"You're not hiding a banshee in there, are you?" Lee Jordan joked.
"Something like that," Albert replied with a smile.
"So, you really plan to put a banshee in there?"
"The principle is similar. It uses sound to render people unconscious."
"When you're done, let me try it out."
"Are you sure?" Albert's expression turned a bit odd. "Well, if you want to be the first to test it, I don't mind. I was planning to test its power myself, but if you're willing to be the guinea pig..."
"Guinea pig? Is it dangerous?" George was taken aback by Albert's words.
"It shouldn't be. The most that will happen is that you'll be unconscious for a few hours," Albert said, though he didn't sound entirely convinced.
"The way you're talking, it sounds pretty unreliable. I think you've made something dangerous," Fred muttered. "By the way, do you have any good suggestions for a potion to skip classes?"
"How about a potion that causes stomachaches, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, nosebleeds, fever, or a cold? And then you can counter the symptoms with an antidote?" Albert suggested.
"An antidote?"
The trio was stunned by Albert's bold idea. Were they willing to risk their lives just to skip classes?
"Of course, you'd have to dilute the poison. You just want the symptoms, not the full lethal effect." Albert put the box into a leather bag made from a Chameleonic Lizard and prepared to look for an opportunity to create the Banshee's Wail.
"For example?"
"How should I know? You can look it up in herbology books. There are plenty of dangerous plants mentioned there, and some of them are right here in the Hogwarts greenhouses. Find the symptoms you want and their corresponding antidotes, and then you can try making your own class-skipping potion."
The twins exchanged glances, feeling that Albert's suggestion made sense, though they weren't sure why.
However, putting this idea into practice wouldn't be easy. It would require them to put in a lot of effort in herbology and the dreaded Potions class.
And even after they made the potion, their work wouldn't be done. They would still need to test its effects, and the first test subjects would be themselves—a thought that made them shudder.
"Some sacrifice is necessary for our dreams and for galleons. Just close your eyes and imagine—you'll be raking in the gold soon enough," Albert said, patting their shoulders encouragingly.
(End of Chapter)
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