Work Text:
Quartet Grotesque
by Me (kill gore trout fish)
One: Detention (Draco Malfoy & Severus Snape)
"I agree with you, Draco, that Potter is capable of being a most detestable individual", said Severus Snape, looking up to the ceiling once more; "And as you would be quite aware yourself", he continued, carefully assessing his student's condition ... "I have tried several times - unsuccessfully, as you know - to arrange for his expulsion from this school". He did not expect a coherent answer from Draco Malfoy, considering the state the boy was currently in ... though, by the look of him, it was just possible, that Potter's spell might soon wear off enough, for it to be safe to bring him down with a counter-spell.
Not right now, though, Snape thought ... counteracting wandless magic was always a tricky business. Spells could bounce, or even worse, reverse their effects. Better to be safe than sorry; he had no desire to owl Lucius and Narcissa with the news that he had just caused their only son and heir to explode ... Snape returned his attention to the essays he was marking.
With the exception - as usual - of Granger's effort, the scrolls before him were shaping up to be the usual bunch of substandard rubbish. Dipping his quill into the red inkpot, he got down to deal teacherly justice to the pile of drivel on his desk ... after a while he paused. Musing out loud, so that Draco would also hear, he said; "Not exactly the safest specimen to provoke, Potter, or so I have noticed ... He can be alarmingly proficient with that wandless magic ability he possesses, once he gets his blood up" Snape continued, "as you, no doubt, have just found out for yourself."
He dabbled his quill in the pot again, and slashed a big, spidery "D" across the third parchment from the pile so far ... "It was fortunate for you, that I was able to convince Professor McGonagall to let you take this detention with me, so that I could have the opportunity for this little chat."
He glanced upwards again, and decided that Draco was looking considerably better than he did the last time he checked; Snape decided it was time to risk it. A flick of his wand, and a nonverbal spell brought the boy gently down from the ceiling, where he'd been floating for the past hour and a half. Another caused his body to return to its normal size. While Draco gradually deflated, Snape said to him: "Try to be a little more careful around this boy, Draco. I heard that he'd done something very similar to this to a Muggle relative of his during the holidays", he continued; "Heavens knows what else he might be capable of, so do try to heed my words", he said, adding; "You are dismissed".
Two: Charity (Pansy Parkinson & Luna Lovegood)
"Listen", said Pansy, "Do you want to be slim, or not?" "Of course I do", replied Millicent, "But I can't see why Vincent can't join in". Pansy looked at her for a moment or so, biting thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Okay", she said, "But I'll have to warn you that Crabbe will need to take a philtre of secrecy, if he wants to be in on this". "Thank you" Millicent said, getting up to leave; "I'll tell him right away. He wants so badly to be picked for the Quidditch team ...", before charging enthusiastically out of the common room.
Pansy watched her go, mulling over the wisdom of allowing a male to participate ... but then again, Crabbe would be easy enough to control, and, boy or not, it would be well worth the risk to see another few pounds or so slugged onto the skinny bum of that Lovegood bitch ... once she got that transfer charm up and going. She took a folded envelope from a pocket in her robes, opening it for the umpteenth time, to see if the precious strands of dirty blonde hair she'd recently stolen were still in there. They were.
***
The plan worked better than any of the conspirators involved could dream of. Within a fortnight of the spell's casting, Luna began to look decidedly chubbier. After a month, it became obvious that she was putting on weight. Of course, she was as aware of the changes in her body as her hexers were, but, as Pansy had predicted, she put it down to some strange infestation that had been organized by some obscure, harebrained conspiracy or other.
Even when a suspicious Professor Flitwick ordered Lovegood to Madam Pomfrey for an examination, the hex had, by then, become so established that the mediwitch could not establish the origins of the spell. The stupid old cow ended up prescribing her an anti-hexing potion, and owling special dietary instructions to the kitchens. It was an easy matter for Pansy to strengthen the charm enough to overcome both those remedies, and then sit back to watch, as Lovegood rapidly metamorphosed into a wide, waddling, multi-chinned pile of a witch.
By the end of the school year, even the flagstones of the castle seemed to groan beneath her footsteps. The Fat Lady took to shaking her head, and muttering words of sympathy whenever Lovegood dreamily trundled past. Pansy and her cohorts, meanwhile, had been steadily growing slimmer, as the fat collectively left their bodies for their victim's. They kept this change in themselves concealed, by glamours, of course - no need to attract suspicion after all. It'd be safe enough, though, after the holidays, to show off their svelte new figures. By then, Lovegood should have grown to become amusingly immobile ...
***
"Hi Luna", Neville said, as she sat down in the seat across from him. "How were the holidays?" "My father fixed me" Luna replied, "and I'm back to my earlier self now". "How did he do that?" Neville asked. "He said that I had been hexed, probably by a branch of the Widewitch Conspiracy. They've established themselves in Britain recently, but they've been operating for years out of their secret headquarters at Durmstrang ..."
"That's wonderful", said Neville. "Hey", he said, "did you hear the news about what happened to Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe and a few other Slytherins?" "Of course", said Luna, "My father prints a newspaper". "They're in St. Mungo's", Neville said, oblivious to her last statement, "a hex they don't know much about has reduced them so much, that people reckon they look just like living skeletons now".
"That must be uncomfortable", Luna said, then added, as an afterthought; "My father came up with an idea. Instead of vanishing the fat, he decided instead to pass it on to people who needed it". "Who?" Neville enquired, curious now. "The starving people in Greenland", she said, triumphantly; "There are quite a lot of them, you know".
Three: Cheese (Peter Pettigrew - Marauder Era)
A teenage boy entered the lobby, clutching at his gut as he staggered to the reception desk at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies And Injuries. "I need urgent help, please", he gasped to the witch there. She nodded curtly, he looked to her like he was in serious trouble; his skin was pale, he was sweating, and she could see that he had difficulty breathing, let alone staying upright. Helping him over to an empty seat, she cast a privacy screen around him, and then sent her fastest owl to alert an emergency healer.
Within less than a minute, a mediwizard had arrived to see to him. Scanning his wand over the youth's midriff, he asked; "Could I have your name, please?" "Peter Pettigrew", came the answer; "I'm a seventh year ... student at ... owww... Hogwarts", adding, "I was ... urgghhh ...out on a Hogsmeade trip when this ... arrgghh ... happened".
"I see" the healer replied, "Well, it's quite clear that you had quite a badly ruptured stomach, which I've just fixed up" he said, "Though you were very lucky to have gotten here in time; things could have gotten pretty nasty very quickly, had you not done so". He drew a little pattern in the air with his wand, and a sticky, smelly, fist-sized yellow mass appeared, floating over the end of it.
"This is very strange, indeed, Master Pettigrew", he said, "The sort of injury you sustained is more consistent with an object suddenly enlarging inside of you, or else a consequence of extreme gluttony ... this mere block of cheese", he continued, making the lump turn and tumble above his wand tip; "shows no signs of recent magical alteration ... and yet it's nowhere near large enough, to cause that kind of damage to you on it's own".
"Maybe I was hexed?" Pettigrew lied, knowing full well how he had brought it upon himself ... but determined as well, to avoid exposing a certain little secret he shared with two of his friends, 'Prongs' and 'Padfoot'. He should have known better, he realised now, than to attempt to eat an entire block of Elf-made Gruyere while still in his ... other form. At the time, though, it seemed like a good idea. The moment he felt the pain, of course, he changed back - but by then it was too late, he had gone too far - and he had no alternative but to floo himself to a hospital.
Pettigrew considered, though, that he'd definitely learnt a worthy lesson. Next time, he decided, he'll try to be a little more careful when raiding Madam Rosmerta's kitchen. There would be a next time ... after all; she kept such an excellent selection of cheese.
Four: Nesting (Harry Potter, Remus Lupin & Severus Snape - Post-War, AU)
"Have some more tea, Harry" Remus Lupin said, "You've been looking far too worn lately - are you sure you wouldn't mind another piece of chocolate?" "No", Harry Potter replied, wearily shaking his head, while resting it on one hand. To Lupin, the young man's eyes looked just about ready to drop out of his head. He considered letting him grab some rest on his couch for an hour or two (Sirius and Spica, his own two cubs, were old enough now to be trusted to stay quiet).
He knew the cause of Harry's chronic exhaustion, and he had been thinking for years of a good way to broach the subject. "How's Severus today?" he asked. "Doing fine", Harry replied, "he's bouncing back pretty well after this last delivery, and Lilith and Jezebel are both really thriving", he added, with a tired grin. Lupin recognised the glow of parental pride in that smile, he had seen it in Harry every time there had been a new arrival in his family ..., which was often. Too often, Lupin felt. Looking into Harry's exhausted eyes, he cursed himself for not speaking up to him about the issue sooner, forcing himself to ask the one question that he knew couldn't be delayed any further.
"Jezebel and Lilith sound like good names" he said, "... that would now make it sixteen in ten years, wouldn't it, including your one. Is Severus planning on having any more, after these two?" Harry put his tea down, and closed his eyes with a sigh. Lupin began to wonder if he'd just said the wrong thing ... "I really love my family, all of them -you'd know that, Lupin", he said, eventually, "but I really hope that he tries to give himself a rest this year, or even for a few years", he continued, "we've been bonded for just over ten years now, and there hasn't been a single one, since our wedding night, that he hasn't been pregnant for most of "
"Were they all ... planned?" Lupin asked. Harry nodded, almost falling off his hand as he did so. "I'm sure of it", he said, "All except Zebulon, who was our first, though he wont outright admit to that ... but he wont deny it either. Trying to discuss the matter with him is like talking to a stone wall", he said, and continued; "that's just ... how it's been. Ten years. Lupin. Ten years and sixteen children. Five single births, four sets of twins, one set of triplets, and Alastor, who I had", he looked meaningfully at Lupin; "I really love them, all of them, I'd die for them but ... it's really getting too much. I've been using contraceptives, sometimes several at once ... but I'm quite sure he's been using a pretty damn strong fertility potion to counteract them".
"Harry", Lupin said, "I think I know what the problem might be, and I may have a solution. Wait here", he said as he left. When he returned, Harry was asleep on the table, his face in his tea dish, the contents of his fallen cup all over the table. Lupin carefully placed a cloth-covered jar on the table, and then cleaned up the mess. He was about to levitate Harry over to the couch, when the young wizard stirred and woke.
"Huh?" he said, shaking his head to clear it. He saw the jar. "What's that?" he asked. "Something I should have offered you five years ago, though I suppose that would have meant that Simon, Athena, Nathaniel, Claudius, Ajax, Semele, Lilith and Jezebel would never have been born", he said, ironically. "Or maybe just have been born further apart", Harry ventured. Lupin shook his head; "They would never have been born, Harry - once one of these creatures has entered into its host, witch or wizard, no more children are possible".
He pulled off the cloth, revealing a grotesque, foetus-like creature floating in a murky brown fluid. The light made the thing twitch slightly. Harry leaned away from it in disgust.
"It's not exactly as sinister as it appears, though such creatures have been misused in the past. This, Harry" Lupin continued, "Is known as a Nondus Natus, the larval form of the little-known Fuegan Mandrake ... which, as you may know, is a distant cousin to the magical plant so familiar to both of us". "What does it do?" Harry asked - his eyes fixed on the creature.
"It enters the ... maternal space of witches ... and wizards who have previously borne offspring by magic as well". He said, continuing; "Though it is most definitely a parasite, it does not do any real damage to its host, on the contrary", Lupin added, "It does what it can to fortify the bodies of those whom it occupies". "And?" Harry asked. Lupin went on.
"Infestation occurs via direct ingestion, usually through the water supply", he said; "If I were to take this one" he turned the jar slightly, "out of the potion that it's in, and put it into some water, it would shrink to the size and appearance of a frog's egg. Moreover, if you happened to drink that water" Lupin said, "the Nondus would establish itself in your body, mimicking most of the signs of a normal gestation, until it reached it's optimal size".
"Which is?" asked Harry, "anywhere between seven to ten pounds, usually", replied Lupin "though I have heard reliable rumours that regularly eating lemons can control the creature's final size, whilst an excess of bananas has the opposite effect ..." "And what eventually happens to those who have one of those ... things inside them?" Harry asked.
"The Nondus remains in the host's body until the end, Harry", Lupin said, "They can be removed, but the process is so complicated and difficult, that many simply accept it's presence. The Nondus remains dormant, slowly gathering knowledge and wisdom from reading its host's thoughts until, upon it's host's death, it grows into a mature Fuegan Mandrake plant. One way or another, it finds its way out of the host's grave, to form a low shrub with white, trumpet-like flowers and glossy, reddish leaves" he said; "It is said that the plant is intelligent in all of it's major life stages; those infested by one ... particularly those few who know Legilimency ..." Lupin looked meaningfully at Harry, "have reported that a Nondus can make good company ..."
"I'm not sure how permanently impregnating Severus, with an intelligent plant, is going to help him", Harry said, "Unless ..." Lupin nodded, saying, "Remember what it was like for you, when you were waiting for Alastor to be born? " Harry nodded, comprehending, "I did think of that, when I've been trying to work out why Severus just seems to need to do it non-stop ..." "But", Lupin said, "In spite of the, ahhh... profundity of that experience, as it were, did you yourself feel the need to stay that way forever?"
"No" said Harry, looking at Lupin. "Not at all - did you?" Lupin shook his head. "No", he said, "I would have been quite happy just with Sirius, though Spica was a welcome surprise". Harry nodded, "Same here, even though having Alastor was one of the greatest things I ever did, one is enough for me. I could never understand why Severus ..."
"Maybe ... I wonder" Lupin said, "Severus had had it much harder, in many ways, than you or I" he continued, "Though you yourself suffered greatly at the hands of the Dursleys, along with many other losses, you still managed to find for yourself many good friends and allies". "And the same with you", Harry noted, "with you being a werewolf, but finding my father, and Sirius ..."
"Whilst Severus, after his mother died, had no one" Lupin said, "And even when he returned to Dumbledore, in the end, he had to kill him as well, and on his own orders at that. The Malfoys basically used him, and on top of everything else" he continued - both he and Harry blushing slightly upon the utterance of that phrase; 'everything else' - he said, "the man has had to bear his suffering alone, for far longer into his life, than either you or I".
"And when I eventually became his partner" Harry mused "by then, it was far too late. I'm sure my love has helped him a lot", he said, "But there seems to be this place inside him, that I just can't reach ... and probably never will". "And maybe also", suggested Lupin, "He feels a hollowness in him, that only the fleeting presence of ... another being inside ... has ever relieved" "I wonder ...", said Harry, "remember when he first found out about Zebulon, right after our Honeymoon?" Lupin nodded, sipping his tea.
"At first, he was so horrified at the thought of being pregnant", he said, "that he got really scary to live with. I remember spending the first four months of that time hiding from him, and sleeping on the couch" Harry smiled, "But then, out of the blue, he just walked into the sitting room, and practically dragged me back into his bed. It's been that way ever since".
"Harry", Lupin said, "take this Nondus to Severus, and show it to him, he should know what it is ... but if, by chance, he doesn't, tell him what I told you. If he's too embarrassed to carry it ..." "He won't be", Harry said, "He was the first few times, a lot, I remember, but he's become very used to it now, lately". Harry picked up the jar, shrinking it with a tap of his wand, and then stowed it away in his robes. He stood up, rubbing his back and shoulders to wake himself up more.
"Sure you don't want to stay awhile for a rest?" Lupin offered. "No", said Harry, "Severus will be needing me, he doesn't cope very well with the children on his own, especially just after a delivery". He and Lupin walked outside, to where Harry's old Firebolt was propped. In the tree above it, they could hear Sirius and Spica giggling and growling, as they chased each other through the branches.
"Thank you, Lupin, once again", Harry said, as he mounted his broom and kicked off. "I'll send Fawkes or Hedwig later, to let you know how it went".
"Take care", Lupin said, watching as Harry gained height, and then veered south, towards London, where he and Severus lived together at the old Black mansion. He reminded himself that he should go back there to visit sometime, if only to find out if the rumour was true - about Severus having sewn the curtains of Mrs. Black's portrait permanently shut ... It was nearing afternoon tea, so he called his two cubs inside.
While Spica and Sirius clambered down from the tree, he spied the cloth that had been used to cover the Nondus jar. They had better not bury him too close to a water supply, when his time runs out, he mused; and then imagined, with a pang of guilt, Severus being forever heavy with that thing. Sometimes, he thought, we don't really know how anyone will react to what we do to them ... or fail to do for them, for that matter but it was too late now for regrets ... he only hoped, in giving Harry the jar, that he was doing the right thing - by all of them.
-END?-