Hogwarts School - Elsewhere

Jasper was doing his best, his absolute best, not to laugh. But, Merlin’s beard, it was a struggle. Hank’s words just kept pouring out like a broken Veritaserum vial, one ridiculous tale after another, and all Jasper could do was nod.

“I see,” he murmured, stirring the cauldron with forced focus, biting the inside of his cheek. “Mm. Yes, I see.”

This was not how Tattletale Toads were supposed to work. They were meant to spill other people’s secrets, not turn their creator into an unfiltered chatterbox. Jasper’s eyes flickered to the vials of ingredients scattered on the worktable, and his gaze settled on the Whisperwood Sap.…Had they added too much?

He was about to suggest as much when Hank launched into yet another tale, this one about a childhood trip to a farm. Jasper’s hand froze mid-stir.

A farm? Grammar school? World Cup on the telly?

Jasper realized, perhaps for the first time, that there were entire portions of Hank’s life he’d never even heard about. Of course, he knew Hank had spent time in the Muggle world, but he’d never really thought about what that meant, what kind of stories his friend carried that Jasper had never been privy to.

The potion bubbled softly between them. He set the spoon down and finally let himself smile, not out of amusement this time, but something more thoughtful.

"Dear Hank," Jasper finally said, "I suspect we may have miscalculated something." He gestured toward the Whisperwood Sap bottle. "Unless you wanted to give our dear toads the ability to turn their owners into a confessional fountain.” He smirked. “In which case, I’d say we’ve succeeded spectacularly.”

One of the tiny ceramic toads let out a croak, almost as if it agreed.

Jasper leaned back, crossing his arms. "Now, before you tell me about the time you wrestled a garden gnome or had a run-in with a particularly aggressive goose, let’s fix this, shall we?"

He tapped his wand against a parchment filled with hastily scribbled notes, then reached for a vial labeled Starpetal Extract, a known suppressant for overactive enchantments and potion effects. “A few drops of this should balance things out. Unless, of course, you’d like to keep going? I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing more.”

He raised an eyebrow at Hank giving him a wink and a smirk, waiting.

Jasper leaned back on his stool, laughing as Hank mentioned using potions on the dueling block. “I’m not even surprised,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re the type to turn a brewing disaster into a battlefield advantage. Reckless, resourceful, and pure Hank.”

When the talk turned to enchanted beers, Jasper snorted. “Leprechauns for the Irish beers, huh? Next thing you know, you’ll be adding mini storm clouds for thunder rum cocktails. Just promise me you’ll warn me before you start serving up drinks that double as weather charms.”

At Hank’s question about the rest of his projects, Jasper perked up. “Oh, mate, you’ll be proud of this one—I’ve finally perfected the Sneezing Snaps and the Dungbomb Deluxe.” His eyes lit up as he described them. “The Sneezing Snaps are just brilliant. Perfect timing, just enough chaos to keep people guessing. And the Dungbomb Deluxe?” He paused for dramatic effect. “A masterpiece. Stronger, longer-lasting, and with a delightful unpredictability to the stink radius. Absolute carnage, but in a good way.”

He winced, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Though, uh… you might want to steer clear of the back bathroom for a bit. Let’s just say the last Dungbomb test exceeded expectations. Smell’s still lingering. Good thing this flat has two bathrooms, or we’d both be out on the street.”

Jasper grabbed another chip, chewing thoughtfully before adding with a half-laugh, half-sigh, “And yeah, if you hadn’t shown up? I probably might have eaten… eventually.” His tone betrayed the obvious truth that he absolutely wouldn’t have. He shot Hank a grateful look. “You know I owe you so much for that, right? You’re basically keeping me alive and sane at this point.”

He gestured toward the cauldron, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. “So, what’s next, oh mighty potion and cocktail genius? Got any wild ideas to fix this mess or make my next experiment even more dangerous?”

The cauldron in front of Jasper was filled with a bubbling purpleish potion, the latest attempt at creating the perfect Tattletale Toad formula. It was a tricky concoction—a mix of ingredients designed to give the toads their signature ability to mimic overheard conversations with uncanny accuracy.

This particular batch contained:

• A dash of Bicorn horn, ground finely for clarity of mimicry.
• A pinch of Sneezewort to enhance the toads' sensitivity to sound.
• A few drops of Re'em blood, to give the potion a touch of strength and endurance.
• And, of course, the key ingredient (for now): Doxy eggs, which added the slight unpredictability Jasper was convinced the toads needed to keep things lively.

But it wasn’t quite right. The potion hissed and spat, and the toads from earlier experiments croaked in a corner, seemingly unimpressed. The latest theory thanks to Hank’s brilliance was that Jobberknoll feathers might be the missing piece to stabilize the memory recall properties and give the toads their desired edge.

Jasper frowned at the potion as it started to turn an unappetizing shade of brown, muttering, “Don’t bother. It’s the tattletale toad concoction.This batch’s gone off again, hasn’t it?” he asked with all sincerity knowing nif anyone could save it from this state it was Hank. The cauldron hissed ominously, the purple brew threatening to tip into a shade of murky brown. Jasper groaned, tapping his wand against the edge in frustration. “Bloody Doxy eggs,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back on his stool.

He glanced at Hank, before finally tucking into a chip. “So,” Jasper began, pulling the plate of fish and chips closer, “how’s the job at St. Mungo’s treating you? Still patching up curse-happy wizards who didn’t know when to duck?” He grinned, his tone light, but there was genuine interest behind the question.

“And,” Jasper added, pointing the chip he was currently eating at Hank with a sly smirk, “how’s the nightlife at the Snake Pit these days? You managing to keep your wand steady on those late shifts, or have the regulars roped you into one too many games of Dragon Dice?”

The thought of Hank splitting his time between the respectable halls of St. Mungo’s and the grungy chaos of one of Knockturn Alley’s most notorious dive bars made Jasper chuckle. “You know,” he teased, “if you start blending your potions at work like they mix drinks at the Pit, I think we’re going to have a whole new set of magical accidents to fix.” he ribbed knowing Hank would never  haphazardly mix a potion.

Jasper took a bite of his food, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he waited for Hank’s response.

---

My Dearest MJ,


I hope this letter finds you amidst the sparkle and shine of Broadway—though I’m sure you've stolen the spotlight with your dazzling voice and that infectious smile of yours. How is the journey going, my little songbird? Have you brought the house down yet with a showstopping number? If anyone can follow in the legendary footsteps of Barbra Streisand, it's you. Just don't let the fame make you forget about us mere mortals back here in London!

Things at Jasper's Jollies have been a whirlwind of chaotic brilliance—much like my shop itself! Remember when I told you about my dream of creating a space where magic and laughter collide? Well, it's happening! The shop opened a week ago, and business has been... explosive. Quite literally, actually. We had a minor incident with the "Whizzing Whoopee Cushions" on opening day. Turns out they're a bit too enthusiastic, and let's just say we're still scrubbing soot off the ceiling.

The locals seem to love it, though. Witches, wizards, and even a few daring Muggles have been flocking in to see what all the fuss is about. My enchanted gargoyles (yes, I finally got them charmed!) are a massive hit. They sit outside cracking dreadful jokes to lure people in—you’d love them, MJ, their humor is about as refined as mine. Yesterday, one of them said, "Why did the wand refuse to perform spells? It had a bad incantation!" Terrible, isn’t it? But it makes people laugh, and that's the whole point.

Inside, it's an absolute madhouse. Shelves are brimming with new inventions like "Bellowing Bubbles," which roar like dragons when popped, and "Chameleon Chalk," perfect for hiding embarrassing notes in plain sight. I've also introduced a special line of edible pranks: "Puff Pastries" that turn your hair into a fluffy cloud for an hour are flying off the shelves (pun intended).

We've even got a little corner called the Prank Parlor where customers can try out some of my creations. It's been an experience. Yesterday, a wizard tried the "Sneezing Snaps" and ended up enchanting half the shop to sneeze in unison. I had to call in a cleaning crew of enchanted mops to sort out the mess. Never a dull moment here, MJ!

But amidst all this magical mayhem, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you terribly. I wish you could pop in and see the shop in person. I'd love to watch your eyes light up when the gargoyles crack a joke, or see you double over laughing at one of my new tricks. And maybe I could even convince you to test out the "Trick Teacups" though something tells me you'd get your revenge with one of my own pranks.

How are rehearsals? Are the directors treating you well? If they're not, just give me their names, and I'll send them a gift basket filled with "Dungbomb Deluxe." I'm kidding (mostly), but seriously, MJ, I hope you're being showered with the love and recognition you deserve.

Please write back soon and tell me everything. Your stories keep me going when the shop gets too quiet (rare, but it happens). And when you're ready for a break from the stage, you know you've got a magical little corner of London waiting for you, complete with enchanted mirrors that pay compliments and a wizard WHO's madly in love with you.

Sending you all my love, a dash of laughter, and a sprinkling of mischief,

Jasper was getting nervous and excited all at once. The shop was really going to happen and it would be opening in just a few short days so when he got the news that his shipment of the secret ingredient to several of his star products needed to be picked up at the postal office the hasty decision was made.

Jasper decided to lock up the shop he had been getting ready to make his way there himself and retrieve the ingredient. He wanted to make sure he was fully stocked for opening day. He was disgruntled to find out when he got there that the problem was not the ingredient itself, but the wizard who had sent it had forgotten to use a shrinking charm so the owls could deliver it.

With a quick wave of his wand, Jasper shrunk the parcel down to fit into his coat pocket before making his way back toward the store. Item secure he was in a much better mood and made a note to give clearer instructions to Jacobson when he ordered the ingredient next time.

As Jasper approached the store his mind swirling with disgruntled insults for Jacobson's incompetence when he saw the smoke. He stopped mid-grunt and his eyes went wide. He rushed toward the store only to be stopped by a small boy who informed him that a giant "big monster snake" had accosted his storefront.

"Is that so?" he began before his nostrils picked up the all too familiar scent of the smoke. It was from a smoke bomb any good prankster would know that easily. The smoke had a peculiar scent to it that other smoke didn't...

It seemed perhaps this boy was a blossoming prankster himself.  Jasper's mind reeled as he decided to play along with the young boy while also possibly getting a bit of revenge on him. He put on a concerned face, "Oh yes I have heard about a great many Ashwinders roaming the streets lately.,,, You're a brave young lad to be standing here with no parents...." he said while casting a summoning charm under his breath, masked by a smoke-induced cough, to create an illusion of a giant Ashwinder behind the boy. "Oh dear boy look behind you!!" Jasper said waiting for the boy to look before allowing the illusion to detonate and cover both him and the boy in green glittering slime.