Chapter 15: Slytherin Sabotage
The fourth-floor classroom was a forgotten relic, its air thick with the dusty scent of old parchment and the sharp bite of furniture polish. A single hooded lantern, propped on a stack of warped textbooks, cast a flickering yellow glow, painting the cracked plaster walls with shifting shadows. Alex Sterling leaned over a scarred wooden table, its surface etched with decades of student graffiti, his quill scratching out a runic array on a scrap of parchment. The table's edge pressed into his elbow, a faint stickiness from some long-dried ink grounding him in the moment. Fred and George Weasley flanked him, their identical grins gleaming in the dim light, their Gryffindor scarves slung carelessly over their shoulders.
"Malfoy's still crowing about ratting us out," Fred whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the table. "Thinks he's untouchable now. Time to knock him down a peg."
George smirked, rubbing a waxy smudge on the table's edge, his eyes glinting with mischief. "He's expecting fireworks or dungbombs—our usual flair. Let's give him something… quieter. More personal."
Alex adjusted his oversized Slytherin robes, the cuffs slipping over his wrists, a constant reminder of his still-growing frame. "Malfoy's ego is a balloon begging for a pin. Something subtle, public, and humiliating." He tapped his quill, ink splattering faintly, and leaned forward, his voice casual but calculated. "Ever hear of Muggle prank sweets? They make your voice squeak like a chipmunk. I'm thinking we go bigger—animal sounds, right in the middle of class."
Fred's eyes widened, his grin feral. "Blimey, Alex, you're a bloody genius! Mouse squeaks? Frog croaks?"
"Both," Alex said, his smirk mirroring theirs. "Maximum chaos, minimum evidence."
[Conceptualization: Voice Changer (Humiliation Prank). Base Magic: Transfiguration (Temporary Voice Shift). Target Effect: Mouse Squeak/Frog Croak]
Alex sketched the runic array, his movements precise despite the lantern's flicker. "We use sugar—cane sugar, specifically. It's sympathetic to quick, chaotic transformation. Dissolves fast, hits the vocal cords, and carries the charm with a sweet sting. The humiliation's just icing." He pointed to a spiral rune, its lines mimicking a throat's vibration. "Rule of Sympathy in action. Sugar's perfect—temporary, deceptive, and deliciously cruel."
George scribbled notes, his quill scratching furiously. "Sugar as the base? You're wasted in Slytherin, mate. This is Weasley-level evil."
Fred weighed a drawstring pouch of rock-candy crystals, enchanted earlier by Alex in a rushed but flawless ritual. "Drop these in his breakfast, and he's croaking like a toad by Potions. Delivery's on us—Slytherin common room's our playground."
"Don't touch them bare-handed," Alex warned, his tone sharp but playful. "And make it subtle. Near his table, not on it. He's paranoid now."
Fred saluted, the lantern light catching his freckles. "Operation Squeaky Snake is a go. We'll scout the common room at dawn."
George grabbed the lantern, his grin wicked. "Weasley twins, infiltrating the serpent's lair!"
They slipped out, their footsteps fading into the corridor's echo. Alex packed his parchment, the crinkle loud in the silence, a satisfied thrill settling in his chest. "Malfoy's about to learn what happens when you cross a Slytherin with a system." The air grew still, the polish's sharp scent lingering as he headed to his dorm, the prank's payoff tantalizingly close.
The Great Hall was a riot of morning chaos, sunlight streaming through high windows, illuminating dust motes that danced like tiny stars. The air buzzed with the clatter of silverware, the sizzle of bacon, and the warm, spiced aroma of pumpkin juice steaming from silver tureens. Alex sat at the Slytherin table, his plate piled with scrambled eggs and toast, the butter's rich scent grounding him as he watched Draco Malfoy across the hall. Draco, his platinum hair gleaming, was mid-rant to Crabbe and Goyle, his voice carrying over the din. "My father's visiting next week. He'll have words with Dumbledore about that dragon nonsense."
Alex's fingers brushed the locket, its cool weight a reminder of his edge. "Time to move." As Draco stood to grab pancakes, Alex palmed a single enchanted candy, its surface glinting like clear ice. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it tumbling onto Draco's plate, nestling among the eggs like an innocent stray sweet. A second-year Slytherin, Bletchley, glowered at him, his heavy brow furrowed. Alex met his gaze with a cold, practiced shrug, adjusting his robes as if brushing off lint. Bletchley looked away, his suspicion defused. "Too easy."
The real chaos unfolded in Potions, the dungeon's air thick with the bitter scent of boiled cabbage and almonds, the cold stone walls amplifying every sound. Snape glided between cauldrons, his black robes billowing, his voice a venomous drawl as he critiqued Neville's lumpy potion. "Longbottom, your incompetence is a danger to us all."
Draco, smug as ever, leaned toward Crabbe, his voice loud with bravado. "Potter's a nobody without his scar—"
A high-pitched SQUEAK! cut him off, sharp and absurd, like a mouse caught in a trap. The class froze, then erupted in laughter, the sound echoing off the stone. Draco's face turned puce, his hand flying to his throat as he tried again. "I'll tell my—PEEP!" The squeaks escalated, rapid and frantic, each one drawing louder guffaws. Crabbe and Goyle stared, their mouths agape, while Neville's cauldron bubbled over, unnoticed.
Snape whirled, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Malfoy! Silence, or you'll scrub cauldrons with your tongue!"
Draco tried to protest, but only a pitiful croak emerged, frog-like and desperate. The class dissolved into chaos, Fred and George mimicking the squeaks from the back, their grins wide. Alex kept his face neutral, stirring his potion with deliberate calm, though his heart raced with hilarious payback. "Perfect. He's a laughingstock."
Snape's gaze swept the room, lingering on the twins, then settling on Alex, his stare sharp enough to cut glass. "He knows it's me. No proof, though." Alex shrugged, his expression one of studied confusion, the locket's hum a quiet reassurance.
"Out, Malfoy!" Snape hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "And the rest of you, focus, or you'll join him!"
Draco fled, his robes flapping, the laughter chasing him down the corridor. The prank was a triumph, but Snape's glare lingered, a silent promise of scrutiny.
The afternoon corridors were cold, the stone walls damp with the day's chill, the air faintly scented with wax and dust. Alex leaned against a pillar, his Advanced Potion-Making textbook open but unread, its pages creased from constant flipping. His fingers tugged at his robe's cuff, a grounding ritual after the morning's high. Fred and George strutted past, trailed by Ron, their voices loud with mock pride.
"Weasley's Wonderful Whistle-Worms!" Fred proclaimed to a cluster of Ravenclaws, his arms wide. "Squeak-inducing sweets for all your pranking needs!"
"Accepting bookings for chaos!" George added, bowing theatrically, his scarf slipping to reveal a singed patch from Norbert's smoke.
Alex caught their eye, offering a subtle nod from his alcove, the shadows cloaking his grin. "They're taking the heat. Perfect allies." The twins' public claim shielded his secrecy, their bond a warm anchor in the cold corridor.
Draco stormed by, his face pale with fury, his movements sharp and jerky. His eyes locked on the twins, missing Alex entirely. "He's predictable now. Vengeful, but sloppy. Next move's mine."
[EXP Gained: Sabotage (Malfoy Humiliation) +50. Stealth & Diversion +20. EXP Toward LVL 2: 70%]
Later, in a cramped cloak cupboard near the kitchens, the air thick with mothballs and old leather, Alex, Fred, George, and Ron celebrated. Fred produced a squashed Chocolate Frog, its wrapper crinkling as he split it four ways. "To Alex, the Slytherin mastermind who made Malfoy squeak like a house-elf in a mousetrap!"
They chewed in silence, the chocolate's rich sweetness cutting through the cupboard's musty air, their laughter muffled but genuine. The victory was sweet, but Alex's mind drifted to the Forbidden Forest detention, the Stone's shadow looming larger. "Malfoy's down, but Quirrell's the real threat. I need to prep for the Forest."
Mechanics Recap: EXP Gained; AE Recovering to 10/50; CS at 51%.
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