Chapter 286: Decadent Times, Degenerate Hearts
Time flew by. As the Christmas holidays drew near, Hogwarts Castle took on a festive air.
Everywhere Evans—no, this chapter is from Wood's POV—everywhere you looked, there were Christmas decorations. Some were Professor McGonagall's carefully planned seasonal arrangements. Others were bizarre, improvised creations dreamed up by the students themselves.
Most famous of all was the Bang‑Bang Christmas Tree that George and Fred had set up in the Great Hall with Little Cloak's help.
They had floated a huge fir all the way from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, then hung its branches with juvenile Blast‑Ended Skrewts that Little Cloak had blindfolded and tied in place.
Young Skrewts were naturally jumpy. Whenever anyone so much as walked past, they tried to explode their way to freedom, producing a constant patter of tiny bangs. Thus, the tree had earned its name.
Unfortunately, by the second day the tree was up, Professor McGonagall had confiscated every last Skrewt on the grounds that they were dangerous. The twins had tried to compensate by hanging Bubble Pods and impact‑triggered fireworks on the branches instead, but compared to Blast‑Ended Skrewts, the results were clearly lacking.
Rumour had it that, unsatisfied, they were now developing an entirely new line of festive Weasley contraband.
What exactly they were brewing up, no one knew.
Walking lightly along a corridor in the castle, Wood thought back over George and Fred's recent suspicious behaviour, all while keeping a careful eye on the pair walking side by side ahead of him.
He was fully aware that what he was doing now edged into creepy territory. Even so, he had to find out exactly what Percy and Penelope were planning to do in Norway.
He had his theory that they meant to stage a prison break. But knowing the two of them—their temperaments, their ability—there was no way they would do what Ron had described: charging straight into the Sea of Wraiths, snatching someone and bolting.
That was not a jailbreak. That was suicide.
They would have a proper plan. Or at least a plan with some non‑zero chance of success. That was how they operated.
Wood simply could not imagine how such a plan could exist. How did you break someone out of one of the most terrifying wizarding prisons in the world with anything resembling reasonable odds?
If they were secret leaders of some underground resistance dedicated to overthrowing the system, that would be one thing. But they were two Hogwarts students who hadn't even graduated yet. How, exactly, were they supposed to pull a prisoner out of that place?
Unless they had all misread it from the start, and the pair weren't planning a prison break at all—just a quiet little trip to Norway?
A dozen conflicting ideas jostled in his mind. Wood shook his head hard and shoved them aside, focusing instead on keeping the right distance. Close enough to hear, far enough not to be obvious.
For now, the most important thing was learning what those two actually meant to do. There was no point in getting lost in hypotheticals.
He was certain that with his natural, self‑taught tracking skills, there was no chance Percy and Penelope would spot him.
They had glanced back a few times, but each time he had covered flawlessly with a casual look and natural posture. The fact that they had shown no sign of suspicion only proved they hadn't noticed a thing.
His confidence was sky‑high.
It wasn't boasting to think that with tracking skills like his, he could probably stroll into an Auror's job.
If they never realised they were being followed, then information was just a matter of patience and careful listening.
Conveniently, just as Wood steeled himself to focus, the two ahead of him seemed to tire of walking in silence. They drew closer together, clearly ready to talk.
Wood's eyes lit up. A slow grin tugged at his lips as he slipped a hand into his pocket, groped around, and drew out a shiny Sickle.
It looked like any other Sickle, but in truth, it was the latest little gadget George and Fred had cooked up the day before.
They had spent nearly all their House points acquiring, from Professor Kahn, a spell reverse‑engineered from the hearing enhancement ability of a Bog Lurker. After much experimentation, they had managed to fix that spell into this coin.
Pressing the Sickle to his ear, Wood turned slightly to face Percy and Penelope and flicked a small magical catch on its edge.
Now, he thought with grim satisfaction, let's hear what you two are plotting.
There was a burst of static. Then Penelope's voice came through, faint but clear enough:
"—I still think it's too thin. Should we try making it thicker?"
"If it's that thin, won't the protection be awful?"
Percy's steady voice followed a moment later.
"It shouldn't be that bad. But if it worries you, we can test it in the water cell later—"
Wood frowned.
What on earth were they talking about? Too thin, poor protection, test it later…
The words clicked into a certain shape in his mind, and his eyes flew wide. He stared at the pair ahead, scandalised.
Surely not.
Having that kind of conversation, in broad daylight, right in the middle of the corridor—that had to be against several unwritten rules of decent behaviour.
As a perfectly healthy, curious young wizard, Wood had always been, shall we say, very interested in certain topics.
Because of that interest, he had once quietly looked into a Muggle item that could drastically reduce the risk of pregnancy, letting couples enjoy themselves more freely.
It hadn't really caught on in the wizarding world yet, but a few shops had started stocking magical equivalents.
Before he could spiral any further, Penelope's voice sounded again in his ear.
"Either way, you have to be on top of it. That's the only way it will work properly."
"But if we do that, all the pressure will be on you—"
"This was my idea in the first place," Penelope said, then abruptly broke off. She turned and looked back down the corridor—straight at the bit of arm sticking out from behind a pillar.
She had noticed Wood trailing them nearly ten minutes ago. She had tried to warn him off with several subtle glances over her shoulder, but each time she was met with his broad, dopey grin.
Probably, he wanted to talk to Percy, but didn't want to interrupt them. So he was tagging along behind instead.
There was no way he was actually trying to follow them. No one could be that bad at it.
Still, what they were about to discuss next was not something Wood could be allowed to hear.
Their whole purpose in modifying the Bubble‑Head Charm in the first place was to prepare for a worst‑case scenario after Christmas.
If things went truly, catastrophically wrong, Penelope planned to use the spell to wrap herself completely, then rely on Percy's spells from the shore to conceal her presence from the wraiths and try to punch a hole through the Sea of Wraiths' spectral blockade.
If their friends learned that, they would worry themselves sick.
Before Penelope could say anything, however, Wood suddenly burst from cover. His face was bright red and horrified. Without giving her a chance to speak, he spun on his heel at the next junction and vanished down a side corridor at speed.
The hallway behind them fell abruptly silent.
Penelope blinked at the empty space, her expression turning oddly complicated.
She hadn't actually said anything, had she?
So why had he bolted?