"Where to next?" Jamie asked.
After leaving Dervish and Banges, he and Tyler found themselves standing in the middle of Hogsmeade with no immediate plan. It was their first time properly visiting the village, and even though they knew plenty about it in theory, actually standing there was different. The streets were busier than they should have been on the first day of term, packed with students who had scattered through the village like escaped Cornish pixies.
Hogsmeade deserved its reputation. As Britain's only all-wizarding village, and with Hogwarts so close by, it had the strange warmth of a place built entirely for people who treated magic as ordinary life. Shop signs creaked above narrow doorways, enchanted window displays shifted to catch passing eyes, and the smell of sweets, butterbeer, polish, old wood, and smoke mingled in the cool air. Even Hogwarts professors liked visiting in their spare time, whether for a drink, a quiet conversation, or a brief escape from the castle's endless noise.
"Why don't we go to the Hog's Head?" Jamie suggested suddenly.
His tone was casual, but Tyler knew exactly why the idea interested him. The Hog's Head Inn was not just a shabby old pub. Its owner was Aberforth Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore's younger brother, and that alone made the place worth seeing. For Jamie, whose current face looked far too much like a younger, sharper, dangerously handsome Gellert Grindelwald, curiosity was not necessarily a safe instinct.
Tyler turned and gave him a flat look. "Sure. If you want to get beaten senseless, go ahead."
Jamie blinked. "That bad?"
"Look at yourself," Tyler said. "You're walking around with the face of Gellert Grindelwald in his youth. Maybe even a better-looking version, which probably makes it worse. If Aberforth sees you, I can almost guarantee he'll come over the bar and try to kill you before you order a drink."
Jamie coughed lightly and looked away. Aberforth and Grindelwald were not merely people with an old grudge. Ariana Dumbledore's death had been tied to Grindelwald, and Grindelwald had also dragged Albus into a dream that nearly shattered the Dumbledore family. For Aberforth, that face was not history; it was a wound that had never healed properly.
"Then let's not test him for now," Jamie said after a moment.
He was not afraid exactly, but he also was not stupid. Aberforth was Dumbledore's brother, and no one from that family could be treated as ordinary. If a fight truly broke out, Jamie was not absolutely certain he could beat him without causing the kind of scene that would bring half the village running.
"Let's go to Honeydukes instead," Tyler said, nodding toward a bright, inviting shopfront ahead. "Wizarding sweets are strange enough to be interesting. A bit too sugary sometimes, but we can buy a few things."
Honeydukes was impossible to miss. Its windows gleamed with jars of sweets in every colour imaginable, and the door opened and closed almost constantly as students drifted in and out. Hogsmeade had rarely welcomed so many Hogwarts students at once outside a proper weekend visit, and the whole village felt livelier because of it. Everywhere Tyler looked, small groups of witches and wizards were laughing, calling to friends, or pretending they had planned this visit all along.
When Tyler and Jamie entered Honeydukes, the warm smell of sugar wrapped around them immediately. Shelves stretched from wall to wall, stacked with bright boxes, glass jars, paper bags, wrapped chocolate, and sweets that hummed, popped, twitched, or glowed softly under the lamps. Students were already packed between the displays, choosing treats with the serious concentration of treasure hunters.
"Welcome, gentlemen," the shopkeeper said cheerfully from behind the counter. "What can I get for you?"
Tyler looked around the shop with mild interest. Rows of sweets filled every available space, from cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs to Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and all sorts of wizarding confections. Honeydukes was famous for good reason, and for a first-time visitor, it would have been overwhelming.
For Tyler, it was less shocking. He had lived in the wizarding world for eleven years, and he had already tried most of the popular sweets from Diagon Alley and beyond. Coconut ice, Fizzing Whizzbees, sherbet balls, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, toothflossing stringmints, Ice Mice, and even the Cockroach Clusters Dumbledore liked so much had all crossed his path at some point.
Cockroach Clusters, in particular, were proof that some wizarding sweet-makers had a cruel sense of humour. They looked far too much like real cockroaches for comfort, and anyone with a weak stomach would probably refuse to put one in their mouth. The taste, however, was surprisingly decent, a little bitter and fragrant, almost like coffee wrapped in chocolate. Tyler suspected the inventor had been the sort of person who enjoyed watching people hesitate before eating.
Honeydukes had plenty to offer, but very little that truly amazed him. In the end, Tyler bought a little of everything out of habit, spending five Galleons on a generous pile of sweets. Wizarding currency still had strong purchasing power, and five Galleons could fill several bags if a person knew what to choose.
Jamie added a few things of his own, mostly out of curiosity rather than appetite. Once they had paid, the two left Honeydukes and continued wandering through the village with their purchases in hand. They ate as they walked, tasting whatever looked amusing first and watching the chaos of unsupervised Hogwarts students unfold around them.
"Oi! Tyler! Jamie!"
Fred and George Weasley appeared as if conjured by trouble itself, slipping out from between two groups of older students. They came up on either side with easy familiarity, each throwing an arm around one of them as though they had been lifelong partners in crime.
"Why are there only two of you?" Fred asked, peering dramatically behind them. "Where are our foolish little brother and the famous Harry Potter?"
"Did Ron get lost in a sweet shop?" George asked. "Because honestly, that would be the least surprising thing to happen today."
"We split up," Tyler said, pulling a sugar quill from his bag and inspecting it. "They started talking about Quidditch at Dervish and Banges. Since Jamie and I aren't interested in Quidditch, we left them to it."
Fred froze as though Tyler had confessed to hating oxygen. "You're not interested in Quidditch?"
George put a hand over his heart. "Incredible. Horrifying. Possibly illegal."
"It's the most popular sport in the wizarding world," Fred said, staring at them with genuine disbelief. "You can't just not care about it."
"People have different tastes," Jamie said. "We simply don't find it that interesting. Some Quidditch matches last for days, and that alone is enough to put me off."
"Exactly," Tyler added. "The longest match in history lasted three months, didn't it? Imagine watching people fly around for three months waiting for one tiny golden ball to be caught. I'd rather take History of Magic twice in a row."
Fred made a noise of deep offence. "No one actually wants a match to last that long."
"And most games don't," George argued, pointing at them as if beginning a formal debate. "A normal Quidditch match is fast, intense, and brilliant. The Hogwarts Quidditch Cup is fierce every year."
"Very fierce," Fred agreed. "People fall, Bludgers try to murder you, and everyone screams themselves hoarse. What more could anyone want from a sport?"
Jamie raised both hands before the twins could gather more momentum. "Stop. We are not debating Quidditch in the middle of the street."
Tyler nodded at once. "Agreed. You two can worship flying broomsticks without us. Why are you here?"
"Oh, naturally, we were waiting for you," Fred said, recovering his grin instantly. "We thought we'd give you a proper tour. This isn't our first time in Hogsmeade, you know."
"We know the place very well," George said proudly.
Neither of them mentioned how they had become familiar with it. Tyler could guess well enough. Hogwarts had more secret passages than any responsible school should have, and Fred and George were exactly the sort of people who would find them, test them, map them, and then use them for snacks, jokes, and crimes against school discipline.
"Actually," George said, lowering his voice slightly, "we were going to visit Zonko's Joke Shop."
"But we've been a bit short on funds lately," Fred admitted, making a tragic face.
That, Tyler believed without question. The Weasley family had many virtues, but spare money was not one of them. Fred and George loved pranks more than most people loved food, and Zonko's was practically a shrine to them. Dungbombs, hiccup sweets, nose-biting teacups, trick wands, and other joke supplies would be irresistible, but none of it was free.
Tyler smiled faintly. "Fred, George, you should have the Marauder's Map, shouldn't you?"
The twins went still.
The change was tiny, but obvious to anyone paying attention. Fred's grin did not vanish completely, but it sharpened at the edges. George's eyes narrowed, and the easy joking air around them cooled into something much more cautious.
Tyler continued as if he had not noticed. "How about selling it to us? You already know the Hogwarts secret passages well enough, and you don't really need the map anymore."
"How do you know we have the Marauder's Map?" Fred asked slowly.
George was staring at Tyler now, all laughter gone from his face. The Marauder's Map was their secret, one of the best they had ever found. They had not told their family, their friends, or even Lee Jordan the whole truth about it. As far as they knew, no one should have known it belonged to them.
Tyler's smile turned mysterious. "Would you believe that we have the gift of prophecy?"
.....
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