Bagsy Beetlehorn and the Inferno Conscription (The Bagsy Chronicles 3)

Stress Relief

For the remainder of the term, Mr Mortem seemed to hover over Bagsy's every movement. He stood at the edge of the great hall during lunch, his silhouette waited by the lake and observed ominously during Thaumathletics, and in Potions Professor Blythurst, for once, seemed somewhat awake out of sheer spite for the Ministry official who had the audacity to be in his classroom, not that it made him do any actual teaching.

It was bad enough that exams were approaching and Bagsy still couldn't consistently cast spells, she didn't need a creepy man watching over her shoulder to add to her problems. She was half-wishing some big catastrophe would happen like it had the previous years, so she could be spared the need to pass her exams and be guaranteed to remain at Hogwarts despite her magic inability. Bagsy hated herself for thinking it the second it slipped into her mind, though. Exams were a pain, but they didn't put her or other people's lives in danger. She could deal with Mr Mortem's hovering, even if it was deeply disturbing.

'What is he waiting for?' Bagsy worried to Mezrielda Friday evening in the library. The worst part about Mr Mortem was the infrequent nature of his followings – he wasn't there every day, or even every other day, but showed up at random times, in random locations. Sometimes she noticed him twice in one day, or not at all. It was like having permanent goose bumps. It was as bad as seeing Arice around. Walking the castle was something Bagsy was started to dread, now a days. 'I just want to curl up in my private room and never go anywhere ever again.'

Mezrielda looked annoyed. 'He has no right to be harassing you like this. It certainly doesn't sound in line with regulation. What do you reckon he tried to give you during the interview?'

Bagsy shrugged. 'I don't know – there are a fair number of potions that are colourless.'

'Sure,' Mezrielda said, narrowing her eyes. 'But I doubt there are many that have a use in interviews, or that Mortem would feel the need to hide his use of.'

Bagsy put her head on the table and groaned her agreement. 'I'm sure you're right, but I'm too stressed to figure it out.'

'That is understandable.'

Bagsy sat up suddenly. 'Could you do it?'

Mezrielda blinked at her. 'Can I do what?'

'You know what.'

She sighed. 'I could try to figure it out, if I wanted to,' she confirmed before slipping into silence.

'So, you don't want to figure it out?' Bagsy questioned, feeling a little hurt.

Mezrielda shifted in her seat uncomfortably. 'That's not what I said,' she argued sourly.

Bagsy paused and took a second to run the interaction through her Mezrielda-translator. 'Ah. So you can't figure it out.' She smirked.

Mezrielda clenched her jaw. If she were a magpie in that moment Bagsy was certain her feathers would be ruffled. 'You can't figure it out either,' she protested indignantly, 'and you essentially teach third year potions, so who's the fool here, really?'

Bagsy just kept grinning.

'Bagsy!' Arice's voice called from the end of the book shelf a few paces away from their nook of the library.

Bagsy ducked below the table in an attempt to hide, before realising how stupid she looked and awkwardly returning to her seat. 'A-Arice...' she trailed off. Mezrielda glared flatly at him.

Looking unsurely at Mezrielda, Arice walked over to them and smiled. 'Hey, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend? It was really fun last time, huh? We could even watch the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin match afterwards together.'