Magical Hogwarts

He had some nerve to trick her, withhold the necessary antidote, and then the request something as sacred as a lock of her hair. For a moment she speculated on him being You-Know-Who reincarnated - the easiest explanation for this particular brand of despicable behaviour. Hazel had two words in response to the ridiculous request: as if.

“Are you insane?” she asked the Slytherin, wand-hand shaking. If the boils weren’t already making her face red and splotchy, she was sure her boiling anger would’ve done the job. “I’d feed myself to the Giant Squid before I ever did that.” Untrue, but that wasn’t the point.

It was a wonder she hadn’t been washed away in tears yet. The urge was certainly there, carried by rage and worry. What if the way they’d altered the potion meant the original antidote wasn’t strong enough? What if she ended up scarred? Hazel quivered with nervous energy and anger like crackling flame. She’d once overheard two upperclassmen discussing the intent behind curses, that they were meant to be performed with purpose and conviction; she felt like she could pull one off right now if she tried.

But there was still the issue of detention, or suspension, or expulsion. Her mum had already sent her a strongly worded letter and had even directly threatened a howler should she find herself in any trouble again. A jinx was on the edge of her tongue, but Hazel knew she couldn’t take the risk. Her heart clenched tightly when her grip loosened on the wand.

“I’ll get you back for this, Luca,” she warned, eyebrows still knitted into a scathing glare. If only she could’ve gotten the antidote; of course there was the hospital wing that could at least ensure she received the most accurate potion for her needs, but the idea of being seen while venturing out to get there terrified her. Did she attack the boy and risk the howler for the antidote, or take a chance on being whispered about and ridiculed?

The situation presented made her feel like she’d run into a boggart. A boggart named Luca Isolet.

An immediate, sharp-tongued response came from her.

It was expected honestly. Knowing Hazel's personality, or what little he knew of her anyway, she wasn't going to respond positively to something like that; it almost made him smile when she acted the way she did, he liked being able to guess how his fellow classmates would react to some degree. He wouldn't dare smile though, not initially anyway.

She was fuming, plumes of smoke practically flowed out of her ears as she processed what had happened. Luca on the other hand kept a cool head. His plan hadn't succeeded, and now he was left with an important question...

What should he do now?
His wand was still upright and aimed at Hazel in a more defensive posture; at any moment a curse could leave her lips and he'd have to be ready with a counter. He bit into his lip before letting a breath of air escape between them. "Well, I tried --seems like we both will have to go without what we want for a bit longer." They both meaning Luca and this other mysterious person he referred to earlier. He kept his eyes fixed on Hazel as his free hand reached into his pocket to retrieve the vial.

"Catch." and it's tossed.

Once she had caught it, he'd continue, "Sorry about that, Hazel..." he started and slipped his free hand back into his pocket. "...but if you're curious, the rumor is about some happy-go-lucky Gryffindor kid." The information is offered with a shrug. "I'm not too sure why he wanted it but it's not worth it." Not worth completely tarnishing their relationship, or what could be perhaps.

"Try to sip the potion slowly and...as for your club members they should try the Guaranteed Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher; it's sold at the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley." That should be close to what they want since it's advertised to be better than a boil-cure in regards to facial blemishes. After he spoke he made no move to actually leave the room, but instead waited to see how she'd react to the information given.

He seemed friendly enough, but the slightly malicious intent showed previously would leave most people feeling weary he figured. "Are we good?" A question he couldn't help but ask in the moment.

She scrambled to catch the thrown vial, panicking as it brushed her fingers and swiftly curving them forward to maneuver the antidote into her palm. The anxiety twisted her stomach, made her heart beat rapidly, but she had it, and could breathe a little easier. Clutching the potion tightly, she kept a firm grip on her wand with her right hand. The temptation to hex him was still there, tugging at her sleeves, but she’d gotten what she needed. Now, she just wanted to fix the problem and leave.

Quickly, she uncorked the vial and began to drink the potion, before eventually just chugging it. The flavour was awful and she wished she had a cup of hot cider to chase it down, but at least she’d gotten the solution without having to brave the halls of Hogwarts. Merlin forbid she’d run into the likes of Tomie or Gilbert with a face like this; she’d rather die. There was an immediate cooling effect that granted instant relief from the pain and made her feel much better. No more pain, but a quick glance in the mirror showed that the boils were only slowly decreasing in size. She'd have to hide in the classroom a little longer.

As Luca spoke, he grabbed Hazel’s attention again, and she narrowed her eyes at the mention of a Gryffindor. He was speaking in riddles and she found the vagueness frustrating. This was not a fairytale, although after his shenanigans just now, she did think of him as a nasty old troll. “Who are you talking about? Are you and one of your little Gryffindor friends trying to kill me?”

Truthfully, curiosity was high, but she did not trust Luca to tell her the truth - especially not after this little act. “Why do you need my hair, you little creep?” It felt good to have secured the antidote already. She was not one to censor herself anyway, but she could be even less careful with her words now that she’d gotten what she wanted from him.

“And why didn’t you mention the ten second potion in the first place? You are impossible!” She felt silly that something like that would have even went under her radar; Hazel tried her best to keep up to date with all of the latest trends. Surely, it was just another farce.

He watched as she clawed for the potion and downed it almost immediately; it was impressive that she kept her wand trained on him all the while. His position didn't let up either though. Sure, he'd given her what she wanted but it was painfully obvious that she was still weary of him and did not trust whatever he was going to say next.

The boils slowly started to go down...and Hazel used this opportunity to ask any questions she wanted and, of course, to let Luca know just how vile he was.

For the most part he kept a cool composure, that was...until she asked if he and his Gryffindor friend were trying to kill her. The most confused, dumbfounded look took over for just a moment. The person he had in mind was Benny --and for her to even think that they were on good terms? Inconceivable. "Eh..?" As if he didn't hear her correctly. He took in a breath and simmered a little, she didn't know who he meant. "As if, the only reason I'm not telling you his name is because word would get out that I'm the one who told you." Another lie, but she wouldn't know...not for sure anyway.

"But no one's trying to kill you Hazel." There's a shrug with his free hand. "I think he just has a crush on you or something --that's how they made it seem. And I couldn't care less about your hair!" He couldn't stress that enough.

When questioned about the ten-second-pimple vanisher he simply shook his head. "I didn't mention it because I wanted to see if we could actually do this." His answer was simple enough. "It doesn't excite you to make new things? It was always in my head that if we failed I'd just tell you about this place but I wanted to at least try first." The little potioneer within him was eager to create new concoctions; had he told her from the jump then this would've never happened and he would've lost out on a free guineapig. "That...and I was curious to know what you were like up close."

A Gryffindor? With a crush on her? Luca Isolet had officially piqued her interest. Hazel was dumbfounded, but hopeful. Had Benny confided in Luca? Was the lock of hair part of his eventual profession of like-like? Absently, she twirled a strand around her index finger, momentarily contemplating actually giving it to Luca. The more she pondered, however, the more disappointed she felt. Benny couldn’t tell her himself? There was also the risk that it wasn’t Benny at all but some other Gryffindor creep conspiring with or lying to Luca to send Hazel So to her doom. Her mind went to Gilbert right away. Hazel was not taking that chance.

“Well you and your little Gryffindor can shove it.” It was as close to an expletive that she would get.

As he continued talking, Hazel rolled her eyes.

“No Luca, I’m trying to work smartly.” She glared at him for wasting her time, which was indeed the opposite of working smartly in her opinion. She could’ve been using the hour they’d spent brewing the potion and fighting over this stupid fiasco planning the next cosmetics club meeting – or studying for class. The idea of creating something new had seemed exciting when she’d imagined it as a push towards fame, glory, and power but the idea was not original and he was fully aware of this. “If a ten second cure already exists, our potion wouldn’t even have been new.” She vocalized her angry thoughts.

His second sentence gave her pause, but was unsuccessful in softening her. To put it mildly, Hazel was still infuriated. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to get to know her, really. Who didn’t? It was part of being popular, she supposed, but an annoyance that she had no patience for in this case. If he’d intended to enter her good graces, her fellow Slytherin had failed miserably. As soon as the first boil had sprouted on her skin, she’d decided to hate him for the rest of her days.

“Well, just so you know, I hated getting to know you.” She crossed her arms and flipped her hair. “I had a terrible time.” At this point, the boils had gone down enough that, as long as she kept her head low, she could meander the corridors without a flush of shame crawling up her neck, retrieve a scarf from her dorm, and cover her face on the way to retrieve the blemish cures. Refusing to spend another second in this idiot’s presence, Hazel turned on her heels and stomped out of the classroom.

[out]