Chapter 15: Night Jaunt (Not Gaunt)

*Ding!*

 

I run over to the oven, reinforcing the skin on my palms as I do so. Opening the shockingly clean yet medieval apparatus, I pull out my new baby. No, not like Alexandria. I mean, a stomach baby.

 

I made a chicken pot pie. Sorry, I made a family-size chicken pot pie…and I’m going to eat it by myself.

 

As if reading my thoughts, the purplish goo by my feet wobbles in protest. Okay, fine. I’ll share some of it with Alexandria.

 

I feel like I need to explain a few things.

 

So! After I almost committed genocide upon the cultivator worlds, Cassy came and told me to stop. Apparently, eating all those souls put her reincarnation and afterlife count way out of wack.

 

…Her words, not mine.

 

The energy accumulated from such an action was pitiful, so I decided to just dump it into a random node. So…it went into the homestyle-cooking node. Why do I have a homestyle-cooking node? Well, that’s another story!

 

And I’m going to tell it. Yep!

 

So, us Rulers live for like a really, really long time. I’m the oldest, but Thomas is the second oldest. The Ruler of Power used to be third until they retired. Cassy and Revi joined at the same time, and the Ruler of Time is the youngest. Huh.

 

We picked up several hobbies over the years. I took to tailoring, mainly dresses and hats. I tried racquetball with Cassy, but that wasn’t my thing. Thomas, for some reason, took to cooking really well. Like, cooking anime well.

 

With a single, regularly-sized Thanksgiving dinner, he managed to make me feel satisfied. For the first time in several quintillion years, I wasn’t hungry. Then, I was hungry again…

 

Let’s just say I went through something of an addiction withdrawal…

 

Several, regrettable, tantrums after that, Thomas helped me design a multi-tiered node with several styles of cooking and a compounded layer of quality of said cooking.

 

For example, I have homestyle-cooking active, so I can make pretty much anything a Cracker Barrel would have on a menu, or anything you could ask a southern grandma to make. However, the worlds only had enough power to activate a ‘comfort’ level of satisfaction.

 

Those levels are relative to a human, since Thomas was one, so it’s nothing to me. Just a small snack.

 

“Does Mistress need anything else?” A house elf asks, quivering either from fear or excitement. Judging by the adrenaline, I’d bet on the former.

 

Reigning in my aura as compactly as I can, I respond, “No. Thank you, Fakdey.” He bows out, quickly backing up, finding the floor interesting. Ugh, most humans can’t feel my aura, which is technically just magic since I’m kind of the pump for it, but most magical creatures can.

 

This is usually met with reverence, fear, arrogance, and aggression. Typically, in that order. Dragons, or most that I’ve met, jump straight to stage four because they don’t like feeling stage two. It’s this whole…thing. They think themselves the strongest ever.

 

Blatantly wrong.

 

However, much like the elves, I’ve noticed that the intelligence of dragons has been bastardized by the actions of wizard-kind. Similar to how humans domesticated wolves, wizards domesticated dragons, elves, who knows what else? I miss the hot elves, and hot dragon girls, and slime… Wait!

 

Hmm, maybe I can give Alexandria an intelligence boost? No. Not my purview. That’s Revi’s job. She…might be willing to oblige. Probably not though. She’s impossibly pragmatic. Not willing to abuse her powers, and even loathes them to a point where she’ll do things the mortal way just to avoid using them.

 

Mmm. Chicken pot pie…

 

I leave the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the collective sigh let out as I do so, and instead of returning to my common room about very close away, I think I’ll go on a lovely night walk.

 

Tentacles fan out behind me, sucking on the various surfaces, caressing the portraits. Some…slime is left behind, but one of the hundreds of tentacles will probably lap it up.

 

Hmm, clouds are out tonight… Maybe a nice jovial jaunt around the towers? Let’s see… If I take a right and an up at the pleasantly needless staircases, then I should arrive somewhere near the Gryffindor tower.

 

I slow my roll as I near the entrance. Two interesting things. First, Tori has fallen asleep on the couch in her common room, still dressed in her uniform. Pulling a spare blanket that I took from my common room out of a spare dimension I use for storage, I burrito her in it, gliding her up the stairs while quickly changing her clothes once she has some privacy.

 

I give her some ‘Good night’ head pats before turning my attention towards the other…interesting thing. Specifically, the famous Weasley twins. It seems to me that they’ve already broken into Filch’s office even though we’ve been at school for a few weeks.

 

I slink across the roof, moving quickly yet quietly so as not to raise suspicion. Even from here, in the dark, I can hear each word move across their lips and see each detail they can figure out. Figuratively, they’re in my territory.

 

They have knapsacks at their side, filled with see-through potion vials. The Marauder’s Map, the weirdest plot hole in the story, guiding their path through the hallway’s and around the prefects.

 

“Where do you think she really is?” I overhear…George whisper. Oh golly! Are they referring to wittle ol’ me?

 

“Don’t know. Maybe we could ask her? Figure out how to confuse the map if we ever need it?” Fred responds, albeit slightly louder.

 

What they referring to is my ability to be in multiple places at the same time. Since an integral part of the Map’s functions rely on physical location relative to the castle, and the detection of life within, then when I split myself, I show up multiple times on the map.

 

It’s a simple oversight none would ever expect.

 

Another oversight is how it doesn’t detect plants, or inorganic materials. Perhaps a humanoid female, almost dryad-like, body comprised of plant cells with a simple reality-altering illusion thrown over? That could also evade detection.

 

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The duo ends up at the Potions classroom, but the classic Alohomora charm doesn’t work. The two stand there in thought, thinking of another way in that doesn’t involve the obvious plan of excessive property damage.

 

I think I might give them a hand. Or five.

 

Slipping between the space between atoms, I effortlessly enter the classroom unnoticed. Then, I tear through the magic supporting whatever protection charm Snape put up on his classroom and open the door.

 

The two freeze up, ready to run, for they can only see a figure in the darkness. However, I raise up my wand towards the roof, and say, “Lumos.” The tip of my wand begins to glow an ethereal white, softly illuminating the small dungeon space.

 

Fred and George visibly relax once they heard the feminine voice, but that relaxation quickly becomes confusion once they see me. The glance up at me, and back at the map, trying to figure out how I can be in bed and in the Great Hall on the map, but be visibly in front of them.

 

They glance at each other, their expressions going a mile a minute as they share what might be an important conversation. Eventually, they settle, turning to me and chorusing,

 

“”How do you do that?””

 

I smirk. “Oh, to what are you referring? How I…don’t show up on your precious map?” They awkwardly purse their cheeks at the social faux pas. “Well…It’s a secret. Something to do with who I am. Though—” I glance at the knapsacks “—You both seem trustworthy. Right?”

 

They nod. “”Absolutely.””

 

“Haha. Alright,” I chuckle. “I take it both of you know I’m not human, or rather, you’d both be idiots if you hadn’t.” Nods again. “It’s… Hold on, how do I word this…? Okay, so part of my ‘magical creature’ abilities allows me to be in…places simultaneously. It also allows me to change…me.”

 

“Change how?”

 

“Good question, Fred. Have either of you met my senior, Nymphadora Tonks?”

 

“She doesn’t like to be called that,” supplies George.

 

“No. No, she doesn’t, but it annoys her, so I’ll keep doing it. Anyway, she’s something called a metamorphmagus, which is a really long name for what she can do. Basically, she can shapeshift, within a humanoid frame, to look like anything. So she can add animal features to herself, or she can completely look like another person. What I have is that ramped up to an extreme degree.”

 

I lean in close. “I can make myself not even human anymore,” I whisper, lights in my eyes glistening by the wandlight. Ugh, redundant.

 

“This body—” I gesture to myself “—is made of plants, grass if we’re being specific here. I just threw an illusion to make myself less green.”

 

I twirl for extra effect.

 

“Now, as much as I enjoy talking about myself, what are you two doing here?” I point the wand, forcing my pupils to shrink to give myself a crazed stare.

 

“Well, we—” George began.

 

“—took a look at Snape’s lesson plans.” Fred alternates.

 

“For the next several weeks.”

“By way of masterful deception!”

 

“A couple stink bombs, really.” George earns a glare for that one.

 

“So we found out we’re making a Wiggenweld potion tomorrow.”

 

“Keep in mind, this was a week ago.”

“And we set up a small workshop in one of the boy’s abandoned bathrooms.”

 

“One of the ingredients in the Wiggenweld potion are Chizpurfle fangs.”

 

“Which, when in contact with this stuff.” Fred pats his knapsack.

 

“Creates a pink dye cloud.”

 

“Sticks to everything.”

 

“And we mean everything.”

 

I stare at the two, processing everything at an abysmal pace. I’d…like to find this workshop. See what it’s all about. I’ll ask later.

 

I turn, pointing my wand at where we keep our cauldrons when not in class. (So nice of Snape to not make us lug those things around all day.) And fire a blue ball of light at the closet. It doesn’t do anything, but it does look like it while I tear through the lock.

 

“Have fun.” I say, leaning against the wall while they get to work.

 

They’re such an interesting pair.

 

I think I’ll keep them… Alive, for that matter.

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