Year Three - Chapter Sixteen

The treasury of Hogwarts' lost and found amounted to tens of thousands of Knuts. Literally, if the bag hadn't had a featherweight charm on it and its contents, I wouldn't have been able to swipe them away. I hadn't bothered counting, admittedly, but I was reasonably sure that for all of the mass of money that I felt like I had...I'd probably managed to steal no more than a couple hundred pounds, and even then, no Galleons appeared amidst the lost currency.

It was way easier to lose Knuts and not care than to lose Sickles, and losing a Galleon would constitute an ass-whooping of epic proportions I reckoned, unless you were some kind of rich Slytherin kid who could swim in the golden coins with ease.

There were thousands of Sickles too. This was the lost treasure of the ages, and this lost treasure needed either a bank to store it, or a place to keep it safe.

The rest of the loot wasn't something that could be sold. I didn't doubt most of the stuff looked pricey, and perhaps if I waited until I was out of Hogwarts and grabbed hold of it, the ancient charms might not work any longer to prevent theft, but as things stood, it was better to just pack everything that could be dangerous in a corner of the Chamber of Secrets, and wait patiently until someone good with curse breaking would check on them.

I was thus adequately prepared for the Hogsmeade trip. I wasn't prepared for my friends, but I was prepared for the Hogsmeade trip.

I wasn't prepared for Wayne.

No one could be prepared for Wayne.

"I don't understand," I mouthed in disbelief as I watched the normally peaceful boy throw a fellow wizard out of the way to reach for the candies, climbing the shelf with his bare hands to reach the top, even kicking another climber to the side. "They're just sweets."

"They're Honeyduke sweets and it's nearly Christmas season!" someone else yelled, shoving fistful of lollies onto the counter where the wizard behind it all merely looked on uninterested at the blood already dribbling on the floor from a couple of broken noses and a few cuts from peculiarly sharp-edged crystallized pineapples.

"I can't believe I'm stuck against the corner of the Honeydukes shop," I muttered as I looked at the body pressed against me. One awkward-looking Ron Weasley made an equally nervous smile. "Nothing against you, but you could have been a pretty woman."

"S-Sorry about that, 'mate," the red-haired boy said. "We ought to wait outside."

"Don't you dare leave!" Amanda said from a nearby spot, Megan and she both glaring daggers at one another while fighting over a peculiar box of chocolates. All I saw was that they were red, and pink. I didn't like it one bit.

"You know," I said, making conversation, "Your friends are at least healthy of mind when compared to mine."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione wants us to study already for this year's exams; that's bollocks," he muttered.

I looked behind him, and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry to say this, but guess who's behind you?"

He paled, and scrambled to turn only to find a few other grimacing wizards trying to push their way through the already cramped shop. "Ah, ah, ah," he sourly grumbled, "Real funny mate."

"Tried to get a laugh out of it," I shrugged. "We're stuck here, unless you want to pull your wand out and send a couple of these nice folks flying, 'cause I'm awfully stuck in this dingy corner."

"That would cause a mess," Ron said. "We could weasel out," he added, hopeful. "While they're all distracted."

"Sure," I gave a small nod, "But that wouldn't solve the long term problem. What's the matter with you and Hermione following me? That's what I don't get."

"What do you mean? We were just headed in the same direction at the same time, that's all," Ron answered, suddenly on the defensive. I raised an eyebrow in his direction, and Ron quietly tried to look away, only to fail due to the utter lack of space available.

"Going to answer truthfully if I ask pretty please?" I asked once more.

"Ah, bummer," he grumbled. "It's just Hermione thinks you're a bit annoyed about your study place becoming a public area, and wanted to apologize about pushing the matter out of your hands."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say she had to, and I didn't ask for anything. She was right, in that the room didn't belong to me, and so I just grabbed my stuff and left."

"Yeah, well," Ron looked as if he had eaten a rancid slug, "It just doesn't sit well with her. You know, she wants to know if you've got another room like that one, or something giving you more advantages-" he abruptly shut his mouth. Ah, it was truly bliss when you actually were in a position to hammer the weak link in a secret congregation.

"And why would she want to know that?" I asked, "She wants to give it to the students?"

"I wasn't supposed to say that," Ron said weakly. "Got to be the hot air in here."

"Well, we're stuck for a while longer, so why not tell me what she wants? I'm a reasonable wizard. Is she envious, or is she looking out for other students?" as I said that, I knew very well that this time around, I'd die rather than reveal the location of my new secret lair of doom and gloom. I'd even get around to installing a new, functional door that worked on a password system. At least, once I hit the books on Transfiguration and Charms that dealt with these kind of things.

"I think she wants to apologize, mate," Ron said, honestly enough, "but she's too prideful to do that, and she hasn't got the foggiest clue when to near you in private to do that."

I raised an eyebrow. Ron, stop, you're sounding wise. This isn't you. Well, it is you, admittedly, but an older you. Squash this version of yourself. Return to your childish roots.

"Well, I'm currently backed in a corner," I said. "Guess there's no apology to give me, but if she wants to buy me sweets then I'm game."

Had I known the trip was far from over, I'd have actually agreed with Ron to weasel out of there.

We walked for hours.

And since Hogsmeade trips were done on weekends, we would do an encore the next day.

I wanted my permission slip rescinded, Headmaster.

Please, sir, I don't want some more Hogsmeade, sir.