PRANKSTER [1] ↝ C. DIGGORY

sixteen

"No," Newt said exasperatedly, shaking his head as Clary followed him into the Great Hall, attempting to give him puppy dog eyes he didn't see as he walked ahead of the girl. "absolutely not."

"Please, Newt, pleaseeeee?" she asked, grabbing the boy's hand to prevent him from going any further and forcing him to face her as she brought her hands up in a begging position. "You'd be doing us such a huge favor."

"I'm not helping you prank Cedric," Newt insisted, shaking his head as they took seats across from Fred and George at the Gryffindor table for lunch. "I should've known this was why you three invited me to lunch. Here I thought you just wanted the pleasure of my company."

"Oh, come on." Clary pleaded. "You know we like spending time with you. Your job for this would be so easy! All you have to do is help us get him in the right place at the right time. We'll do the rest. You don't even have to get your hands dirty."

Newt looked between the triplets hesitantly, first eyeing Clary's sickeningly sweet smile, then looking across to where Fred and George had now adopted the puppy eyes, Fred even going so far as to use his wand to spray himself in the face with water to give the illusion that he was crying.

"Okay, fine," Newt said, caving. "anything for dear Mrs. Scamander here." he said, eyeing Clary with an equally-as-sickeningly-sweet smile, referring to her love potion incident all those months ago.

"Shut up," she said, crossing her arms over her shoulders.

"So what's this prank?" Newt asked then, looking back and forth between the Weasleys. "And by just getting him there we can ensure that I am not a victim in all of it?"

"We swear." Clary promised.

"Solemnly." Fred and George added in unison.

"Okay, good." Newt said. "Alright, let me hear it."

Fred reached into the pocket of his robes then, pulling out a vial filled with powder that held a slight green tinge to it. The boy watched Newt with a devious grin as Newt's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he studied the tiny glass.

"What is that?" Newt asked.

"That, my dear friend, is Belch Powder." George explained as Fred shoved it back into the pocket of his robes. "Easily mixable into a drink, causes the user to begin burping uncontrollably."

"So where do I come in?" he asked.

"So the next time we're all together for breakfast, all we need you to do is make sure Cedric sits on your left." Clary explained. "You really won't have to do much of anything, but this way we can dump it in his pumpkin juice before he gets there without having to worry about putting it in the wrong goblet, or trying to do it while he isn't looking. This just makes it easier for everybody."

"Or you could just admit you fancy him, and that's why you've been pranking him for almost five years now." Newt said nonchalantly, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Shut up," Clary said, punching him in the arm, causing the boy to shoot her a surprised glare. "I do not fancy Cedric."

"Whatever you say," Newt said, a familiar laugh making its way to his ears as he looked over at the other end of the table to see his twin sister sitting with Oliver Wood.

"So what's going on there?" George asked, changing the subject away from Clary and Cedric and gesturing down to where Vasantha and Oliver were sitting, the former watching as the latter scribbled onto a piece of parchment, no doubt devising a new Quidditch strategy.

"She won't tell me." Newt said resentfully. "But sometimes, over break, I would catch whispers of his voice. Other times I'd go to talk to her, and she'd be nowhere to be found. Obviously, she's only a fifth year, but he's seventeen and can Apparate. My guess, he'd Apparate into her room, and then leave and take her with him. But when I asked her about it, she'd just shrug me off as if I was crazy."

"I'll find out." Clary assured him. "Whatever it is, she's probably just scared to tell you."

"But we're twins," he insisted. "and we tell each other everything. You three know what that's like." he said, gesturing across the table to where Clary's twin brothers sat.

Clary nodded. "Whatever it is, I'm sure she's just figuring out a way."

Newt nodded. "Thanks, Clary. Any chance you could slip a prank Wood's way while you're at it?"

"Maybe after Quidditch season." Clary said, looking to her brothers for confirmation, who nodded. "He can't give us detention like Cedric can, but he'd kill us, and if I'm going to die this year, it'll be at the hands of Sirius Black, wherever he is. But we'll add Oliver to our list."

"Speaking of the madman." Newt said, switching the conversation over to the topic of Sirius Black. "I had a nice long chat with my uncle Remus when he came over for Christmas dinner. Apparently, they used to be friends in school."

"You're barking." George insisted. "Lupin was friends with Sirius Black?"

"Shhh," Newt said, sending a pleading glance in George's direction. "keep your voice down about it. The last thing Uncle Remus wants is for this to get out. If any parents know, he could lose his job. I guess how the story goes is Remus was really good friends with Black, Harry's parents, James and Lily Potter and another bloke called Peter Pettigrew."

"The one Black killed all those years ago." Clary said, nodding. "My dad told me about that a while back."

Newt nodded. "That's the one. After finishing school they all fought in the battle together against You-Know-Who, and the Potters went into hiding when Harry was a baby. The only person who knew where they were was Black. Apparently, he betrayed them, giving You-Know-Who their location. Peter found this out the night the Potters died, and went to confront Black the next day, out in public around muggles. Black caused some explosion, killing twelve of the muggles and Peter in the process. Said all that's left of him was a finger."

"That's horrible." Clary said.

"Has he heard from him since his escape?" Fred asked.

Newt shook his head. "Says he hasn't heard from Black in over twelve years. They weren't speaking much near the end of the war."

"Why not?" Clary pressed.

"Not sure," Newt admitted. "but I'm glad he wasn't. For all we know, the bloody madman might've killed him instead."