(1938-12-18) Have Wings, Will Fly
Details for Have Wings, Will Fly
Summary: Andromena and Edgar attempt to cure Chuckles of his foul temper - and whatever else might be wrong with him. Instead, they give him wings…and really powerful teeth.
Date: 1938-12-18
Location: Potions Classroom
Related: Of Beasts And Embarrassments

Potions After-class! Edgar is already hard at work with everyone's favorite test subject, Chuckles. Well, he would be, but Chuckles is in the cage and he's busy trying to brew something. Given the smells that flare out when he tries to warm a concoction though, he's not very good at it. Still, one cannot say he doesn't put a lot of effort into it.

Andromena had had a rather hectic evening the the night before, as her fellow Ravenclaws threw quite an uproar over the addition of Chuckles to their little tower haven. He smelled bad, snapped at any fingers bold enough to come near, and was constantly snarling or growling so that studying in the Common Room became difficult. She'd secured the dog a larger cage, but hadn't the time or the inner-courage and fortitude to attempt to trim his claws or matted fur. Needless to say, Andromena as grateful to pass the animal along to Edgar for his turn at caring for it the following morning.

"What potion are you brewing?" Asked as the young woman sidled up alongside Edgar's bubbling cauldron.

"I am trying to make a restoration potion and see what happens when we feed it to him. Can you, uh, get that fish fillet over there?" Edgar points at a small, sealed pot not too far from the potions workshop. The last ingredient is placed into the blend, and then Edgar starts using the mortar and pestle to grind it all into one manageable paste before it is placed in the solution — which already has an unhealthy, yellow aspect to it. "Isn't it supposed to look purple?" He asks of Andromena, flashing her a smile by way of greeting. "Also, thank you for taking care of him, and getting a bigger cage. He's a troublesome little fellow, I think."

"No problem," she assures Edgar, even if Andromena would cringe if he asked her to do so again. There was just…there was just something off about that dog. It watched her with its beady eyes, black as the abyss as if no light could reach them, when she went to fetch the fish for her Slytherin companion. When she returns, she peers into his cauldron with a critical expression.

"Uhm…" An apologetic look, but only slightly. "Yes. It should be very purple." Not that disgusting snot color. "Perhaps it will," she somehow knew it would not, "Begin to change as you stir it?"

"I hope he just needs some time to adjust. I really believe he'd be a lot happier if he got cleaned up." And acted like a damned normal dog and not a crazed rat!

"We need to get a Domestics Club person to look him over. I hear they can make anything look tidy," Edgar suggests as he pours the solution into the cauldron and starts stirring, adding a bit more force to see if the color changes, especially with scalding water. Well, it changes color, alright… first a tint of orange, then it starts darkening down the red color spectrum. And the smell again. "I suppose that if I have to wash his fur by myself I am going to end up having to using a Full Body Curse on him to prevent getting bitten in the process." Ah well.

The potion also doesn't change from a dark red color, frustratingly. "I'm… really bad at this, still."

"I'm in Domestics," Andromena shared with Edgar. "Only…I've not been part of it for very long yet. I haven't even learned any useful spells." The Ravenclaw had just been learning how to cook, which was its own sort of corrupt magic. But anything she'd fed Alphard as yet he'd enjoyed, so at least she wasn't a complete failure as a woman. Andromena continued to watch in a strange sort of fascination as Edgar's potion became a deep, dark red. It was almost reminiscent of blood.

"Well," what could she say about it? "Trial and error, my friend. We must all learn from our mistakes. Do you learn the body-bind from Duelling Club?" Since Andromena herself knew it not, and was more than a little curious about it.

"We learn it from the Club, indeed," Edgar might fully master it by the time February comes around, but he has been in the Duelling Club for quite a little while now. "It can be essential in a fight, considering that an enemy that cannot move is an enemy that you can more easily disarm or subdue in other ways." With spells such as Confound. He goes back to the topic of having just joined a Domestics Club with a smile, "Well, you are always someone willing to lend a hand, so it suits you. But it takes a little while to learn a Club's particular teachings in spell theory and practice, I agree. I was beaten a few times in the duelling circle before I learned to duel properly."

With the potion as ready as it can be, the Carrow carefully pours it in a flask, holding it gingerly as to not burn himself in the process. Then he places it in a flat glass vessel, waiting a little while as he reaches for the container with the fish fillets. The first one is picked with tweezers, dipped in the solution, placed into a plate. Then another, then another, until the solution has been fully soaked into the fillets. "Here goes nothing. Ready?"

Truthfully, Andromena had never intended to join something that she felt was as banal as Domestics, but had been very cleverly manoeuvred into doing so by Alphard with something so simple as cookies. Looking back on it, Andromena felt it was really quite pathetic on her part. So she shook her head ruefully at Edgar when he said that it suited her, but otherwise didn't contest it. Duelling was at least something everybody tended to get excited over.

"Ready," she answered, eyes on the terrier. The Ravenclaw dearly hoped, for all their sakes, that Edgar's potion did not some how curdle into a deadly poison. The dog would be dead, she would cry, and the Crow would have to deal with all of that guilt. Chuckles was already begin to sniff at the edge of his cage, a lock of muddy brown hair falling forward and obscuring his eyes. For now, he appeared calm.

"Well, that spell in particular is something I'm still working on. Eventually I'll be able to cast it as it should. Until then, trial and error or leg locking curses, anyway." Edgar remarks after a moment, but he catches Mena's rueful expression on being in Domestics, "Well, I think you're a better overall wizard than me in a lot of ways, too. You could join any Club you wanted," he flashes her a smile, then grabs the container with both hands. "If he jumps at my hand, use the Impediment Jinx." This said, the doorlet is opened and he starts shoving the food plate inside!

Andromena returns the smile, feeling somewhat abashed by the compliment. She worked hard for the skills that she was in possession of, and had a right to be proud of them; of herself. As Edgar began to reach for the cage, Andromena withdrew her wand. Chuckles seemed to tense at that, watching the both of them warily. However, it would appear the delicious scent of potion-soaked fish caused the dog to stay its attack (surely, it would have leaped for Edgar's throat otherwise!) as it tentatively began to sample the meal before it. So long as Edgar pulled his hands back quickly enough, Chuckles would only snarl minimally before beginning to chow down. Andromena breathed a sigh of relief.

"So…if this is successful, what are you hoping to see happen?" She watched Chuckles as he ate. The tiny animal was without any manners! As an afterthought, "I'm sure you'll master that spell before long." He was determined, and had been a member of the club long enough that it wasn't as if it was foreign to him.

A few things can be said about Carrow, and that's that he has lightning quick reflexes. No sooner than Chuckles lunges forward to eat from the plate, the Slytherin was withdrawing his hand and, in the half-motion that ensues, closing the door to the cage. He watches the dog eat intently before replying, "If there are any active spells left, then we should see a restoration to his original form… if I got the potion right. If I didn't, well, I guess we'll see what we'll see…"

And that statement makes Edgar Carrow very, very concerned for a moment. What if the dog explodes? Preoccupation which is softened by Andromena's encouragement at his mastering the full body bind spell. "Thank you."

If the dog explodes Carrow will have a shrieking girl on his hands; perhaps their very own Hogwartian Carrie. Thankfully for all involved, Chuckles does not do…well, anything. He gobbles up his fish, makes a burping a sound, and settles down, crossing one small paw over the other. It would have been vaguely regal in demeanor if his tongue wasn't lolling, dripping reddish drool as he regarded the pair of them with a canted head.

"Hmm…" Andromena mused, stroking her chin. "I guess if it doesn't do anything that's not so - " A strange gurgling begins to issue from the terrier. The Ravenclaw looks to the Slytherin, about to say more, when it happens again. Louder. It's not the gurgling of a small dog's stomach. It's something…more.

"That doesn't… sound good." Edgar draws his wand, just in case. He holds it in traditional duelling posture as he waits, because who knows, something could burst out of the dog, or he could enlarge and become something even more problematic than the oversized rabbit he had been originally turned into. Scary enough. He looks back to the Ravenclaw. "Maybe it's a really bad case of indigestion?" Given how loud said gurging noises are, though, that is a remote possibility at best.

Andromena, too, has her wand out still. She may not know what will happen, but damn it all if she won't be prepared for whatever does occur. There's another round of really quite scary-sounding rumbles, and then, something even stranger begins to happen. The sound would be hard to explain for anyone that was either of muggle birth or just too young to have gotten very much from Transfiguration clas yet, but it was the sound of growing. Skin shifting, stretching, clumps of hair falling out to be replaced by…feathers. Feathers!? They were of a dirty brown color, like the wings of a bedraggled owl. But this was not the only change to Chuckles. Oh no.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, the mangy terrier got to its feet and padded towards one side of its cage; the side furthest from the two students and where the table stretched out a bit. It cast a glance over its shoulder. Mocking. Then Chuckles opened his mouth to reveal grossly oversized teeth and in one, two bites, CHOMPED FREE OF THE CAGE.

"Merlin's beard," Andromena exclaimed, utterly shocked. Once free of his little prison, Chuckles scrabbled across the table and took to the air with his newly acquired wings. She had her wand out, she could do anything to stop it, but she was held captive by what she was witnessing.

Well, talk about a bad batch of potions. Edgar doesn't know what to do, himself, but the wand is pointed at the creature with the all-consuming teeth. And wings of doom. A leg-binding curse wouldn't be much help right now, would it? "I guess we know this was a failed experiment… Incarcerous!" Obviously, if you can't bind someone's legs with magic, might as well try to conjure lots of ropes. But, you know, it's not within his strengths…

Andromena lends her aid as well…or tries to. As she levels her wand for the spell, even as she says the word, "Incarcerous," she knows it has failed. No ropes to bind from the Ravenclaw, it would seem, though Edgar manages to fair much better. Ropes begin to coil about the flying terrier, whose loud flapping can be heard as it makes its way towards the door. It strains, it stretches out its legs in an amusing semblance of also attempting to run and fly, but to no avail. When this fails Chuckles, he turns his mighty teeth to the ropes - how long would they stay that way, one wonders? - and begins to gnaw at them.

"Don't worry," Andromena manages. "The ropes resist any attempts of the one bound to free themselves." Like Edgar did not already know that. Cut her some slack, she'd just botched a relatively simple spell after only pep talking Carrow about a caster's will and determination the other day.

"Well… they are not going to last long, given how quickly he's tearing through them," Edgar replies, apparently disregarding his classmate's mis-cast. His was pure luck, really. "Maybe we should lock the door. Are you good with sleeping charms? We need to put him to sleep." Accordingly, he starts moving towards the door to close it. It'd only take one person coming in late for studies as the Carrow has, within the space of a minute, that they'd get a wingful of stray dog with huge teeth charging right at them. Not good prospects.

"Ah, no…" Andromena says with gritted teeth. Bewitched Sleep was not a spell either of them would learn until next year, despite what few attempts Andromena may have made to learn it beforehand. She opts for something else, a spell she had only recently begun to practice on a regular basis with in Charms class. Shouting, "Mobilicorpus," at the dog with a smart flick of her wand, Andromena successfully gained control over the terrier's body movement. If they couldn't put the savage beast to sleep, keeping it firmly under control was the next best thing. With gentle, slow motions with her wand, Andromena directed the dog until it hovered just above the floor. No running, no flying.

"We have more than enough time to…to at least put him in another cage." Would they have to fetch a professor for help? The idea made her groan, because Andromena had no desire to inform any staff of their blunder.

"We can try to make a potion to dispel it, then." God knows the odds of Edgar getting /that one/ right. "Or try to cast the dispellations for transfiguration until we get desired results, or…" No, fetching a professor to help would be unnecessary trouble for the two of them. "Where can we get another cage?" He asks of Andromena, since, out of their choices… this is probably the #1 one? Just maybe. The dog is given a long look, "Maybe we can try a teeth reducing charm."

"If I was a Healer, maybe," Andromena muses over the idea of shrinking the dog's teeth. Unfortunately, it wasn't a spell in her repertoire. Chuckles glared at them balefully, but remains otherwise motionless unless Andromena chooses to make him move again within the next thirty minutes.

"I got this cage from a seventh year Gryffindor who said he didn't need it any more after his pet died." She could never let him see how it had been destroyed after just one day in her care. Who knew what attachments he might have! "I'd hesitate to ask Kettleburn because he'll want to know why. I mean, we can put him in the smaller one for now? Unless you can think up a spell to re- oh, duh." In her excitement, she'd utterly forgotten that spell. "Try mending the crate." Andromena couldn't, not while she was using her wand to control dastardly Chuckles. "Then, once we have him secured, we can work from there."

"Reparo," Edgar states as he points the wand at the cage and, to his frustration, it fizzles. The cage remains broken, and there's still a flying menace in the air. "I'll try again. Good idea, Andromena," he compliments with a sidelong glance and a smile, taking in a deep breath in preparation for this second attempt. Hopefully Chuckles doesn't break free before they can get it.

Oh no, Chuckles is firmly under her control. Unless something snaps her concentration, but since it's just the pair of them and Andromena feels things are well taken care of, she's confident. There's an annoyed, high pitched growl from the dog.

"I'd almost forgotten about it. I've had so little use for it until now." Eyeing the ratty creature, Andromena shook her head. "I am starting to think Chuckles is perhaps more trouble than he is worth." As if to taunt the pair of them, the dog curls back its black lips - which were already only partially covering its teeth - to fully reveal its shiny, needle-thin but otherwise preposterously large fangs.

"Once we have him in there, we can use the remaining time to do as you suggested." A potion might take too long to brew, but they could attempt to do what she and Anthony had yesterday once again. They truly had very few options.

And again. "Reparo." Edgar's spell fails, and his clear weakness at Transfiguration is being made apparent after repeated attempts. The cage doesn't change anyhow. "On the bright side, at least you seem to have things under control, so I'll try again. And yeah, I'm of the same mind right now… Chuckles is trouble." And a professional at trouble-making, which means it could be used for school time antics after the holiday, just maybe. Have to win the Cup first. "Get ready…"

Andromena had hovered Chuckles until he was suspended close to the cage, using her free hand to open its front door. Edgar was given a little thumbs up and small smile; encouragement! He could do it! Third time was always the charm.

"Reparo!" And finally, energy projects from Edgar's wand and the cage is fixed; like-new, in fact, and thanks to Andromena's adroid skill at keeping the damn dog contained. Otherwise they would both be in trouble by now, considering how annoyed the stray must be to rictus-grin in their direction.

The Ravenclaw guided the snarling little devil back into its cage. "I think it looks as though his teeth are getting smaller…Maybe, if we're really lucky, those wings will fall off or something soon too." Plop, into his repaired prison went Chuckles. "But to be safe, do you want to try transfigure him back? I mean, I'm not at all certain if it will make a difference, since it was a potion that caused this particular…anomaly" Andromena looks back to the cage thoughtfully.

"Let's try it. And…" Edgar looks troubled for a moment. "If anyone asks why there is metallic powder on the table, let's just say that we used it for potion ingredients or something." And hope nobody asks about the fish fillets they'd given Chuckles or the blood-red splatters, anyway. "Reparifage," he intones as clearly as he can while pointing his wand at Chuckles, the mad dog.

Sorry, Chuckles, dreams of escape via flight will have to wait for another day. As Edgar manages to successfully cast his second Transfiguration spell in a row (after repeated failures, but who was counting?) the wings fall from the terrier's back and then begin to curl, as if they were paper in fire, into nothing. Chuckles looks decidedly glum about this, and settles down with a moody, 'Harmph,' sound.

"Right, potions," about those metallic shards. "Let's just…get him back to one of the Common Rooms for now." Hopefully his, but Andromena wouldn't just say so. Later they could try to tackle the challenge of cleaning the dog up.

"Sounds like a good idea," Edgar replies, very much aware that they might've /been/ in trouble for this if Chuckles was just a little faster, or more dangerous. He reaches for the cage, lifts it and places all his potions class materials in a backpack before wearing it and heading to the door, opening it for Mena. "Let's go."

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