Harry Potter and The Other

If Rabastan Lestrange had known the outcome of his diversion, he would have been quite disappointed. No one noticed it. His spell followed almost immediately after the sculptor's spell ended, when the audience's eyes were fixed on the statue, and if anyone saw the faint flash of magic, they assumed it was part of the sculptor's work. When James fell, it looked as if he had tripped, so the few moments during which the perpetrator could have been spotted were missed.

But James remained lying on the granite platform, serving as the monument's base. Since the spell completely paralyzed the lower half of his body, he soiled himself, a fact unmistakably confirmed by the characteristic smell. Lily was mortified, and the other distinguished guests of the event were embarrassed, except for George and Fred, who were dying of laughter. After all, the situation was exactly the kind they were used to finding hilarious.

The first to assess the situation was the formidable Molly Weasley.

"George! Fred!" she screeched, giving a hundred-point lead to any Howler. "I've had enough of your stupid pranks! Couldn't you save your mischief for another occasion?! But no, you had to disgrace our family in front of everyone!"

"But Mum, it wasn't us…"

"...it just happened…"

"...but it's funny, Mum…"

"...we just can't stop laughing…"

"...we've never seen anything funnier…"

"...not even when our uncle pulled bouquets of roses from his backside…" the twins babbled, their faces the picture of sincerity.

But everyone who knew them didn't believe them, as the twins had long mastered the art of lying with honest faces. And those who didn't know them were convinced by Molly Weasley's piercing voice, knowing she understood her children well. When she paused for breath before a new outburst, no one at the monument doubted that the Weasley twins had caused the trouble.

And no one suspected for even a moment that Death Eaters were involved. It was common knowledge that they only knew Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra.

The diagnosis on James revealed nothing. After all, Dumbledore had overseen Hogwarts for the last forty years, so no one present knew much about Dark Arts, not even the venerable old man himself. Dumbledore had always been somewhat fanatical and avoided Dark Arts, refusing to even learn them from his former friend and lover, Gellert. He preferred to achieve his goals through Light magic, never lacking in methods that could do things to people far worse than the Dark Arts.

None of the Light-side adherents understood Dark magic and couldn't identify the curse. They couldn't even determine that it was a curse, as such knowledge came only from being raised in one of the old families that still taught the recognition of such spells. Therefore, the Weasley twins, with their pranks, remained the main suspects, despite their protests. No one even thought to test them with Veritaserum, as they had with Sirius—tests are only done when there's doubt, and here, no one had any doubts.

James was taken to the Potter family cottage in Wales, where Harry was staying with Sirius, who was on his second bottle of fine Tokaji out of boredom. Along with Lily, Arthur, and Molly arrived with the twins under escort, and Dumbledore, whom Lily clung to with a death grip. Ginny flatly refused to see the Boy-Who-Lived-Behind-His-Mother's-Skirt-and-Grew-Fat-as-a-Pig, and Ron was sent by his mother to escort Hermione, who had a portal booked to Australia for the day.

Lily, nearly in tears, was using a cleaning charm on James that only lasted five minutes, all the while voicing her thoughts on pranksters of such a nature. Molly relentlessly scolded the twins, demanding they immediately undo the spell. The men remained silent—they couldn't hear themselves over the noise anyway. George and Fred, knowing from experience that it was useless to speak up until their mother calmed down, stopped trying to defend themselves. Harry huddled quietly in a corner, while a tipsy Sirius saluted his friend with a bottle and drained its contents directly from the neck.

"What should we do, what should we do?" sobbed Lily when James soiled the couch he'd been laid on yet again, polluting the surrounding air. "Molly, tell your sons to stop this prank!"

She cried out so loudly that she even drowned out the boisterous Molly. Startled, Molly fell silent and stared at James's wife.

"What are you staring at?!" Lily shrieked hysterically, her nerves finally snapping. "Tell them to cure James!"

"And what do you think I'm doing?" Molly shot back in the same tone. The men instinctively sensed danger and began to slink away to the corners. "I'm telling them, but they won't confess!"

"Then tell them to confess!"

"If they didn't confess right away, they won't confess later! I know these rascals inside out!"

"You've raised fools to torment us! You shouldn't have had kids if you couldn't raise them properly!"

That was a mistake on Lily's part. The honor of the many-time mother was deeply wounded.

"At least I raised them better than you did that pot-bellied son of yours!" roared Molly.

"What?!" Lily went quiet for a moment—it was the calm before the storm. "My Harry is well-mannered, unlike your filthy lot! And how could they learn cleanliness if you're a slob yourself?!"

"Who? Me, a slob?" Molly gasped in indignation. Nothing stings worse than the truth.

"Yes, a slob, and your Burrow is a filthy barn! I'd hang myself out of shame if I ever let my house get that bad!"

"You… you scheming little tramp! You snagged a rich man and now you think you're all high and mighty, but who are you? Nobody, just a filthy Mudblood! I saw right through you from first year!"

"At least I'm not a cow like you! Who else would marry you if you hadn't dosed that red-haired fool with a love potion?! You were doomed to be a spinster or marry some blood traitor!"

Molly flew into a rage and grabbed Lily by the hair. In response, Lily slashed her nails across Molly's face. Who knows how their fight would have ended if a horrified Dumbledore hadn't cast Silencio and Incarcerous on both of them.

"Arthur, James, don't pay attention. The girls just got a little heated—they don't really mean it," Dumbledore said in the kindly tone of a forgiving grandfather once silence fell. Both women glared fiercely, struggling in their bonds. "James, do you have any calming potions?"

"We don't keep any," James replied, confused from his spot on the couch. "We usually have peace and quiet around here."

Sirius, still trying to grasp the situation, finally found his moment to speak.

"Prongs, what happened to you?"

"How would I know? They say these two did something," James muttered, glancing at the subdued George and Fred.

Sirius studied the bottle in his hand, emptied the last drops into his mouth, and gripped it firmly by the neck. Frowning decisively, he approached the twins and prodded them with the bottle.

"You two... tell me, what did you do to Prongs?"

"Nothing…"

"…absolutely nothing…"

"…it happened on its own…"

"…we had nothing to do with it…"

"…but it's funny…"

"…we couldn't have pulled off a better joke ourselves…"

Arthur Weasley frowned and followed Sirius to the twins.

"All right, you don't have to confess. But you know how to reverse it, don't you? Do it, and we'll forgive you."

"No…"

"…we don't know…"

"…honestly, it wasn't us…"

"…we said so from the start…"

"So, you've pulled something on James without an antidote ready? I expected more from you…" In truth, Arthur wasn't surprised, as the twins had done this sort of thing many times before, but the parenting process required him to act otherwise.

"No matter how many times we say it…"

"…it wasn't us…"

"…really, it wasn't…"

Arthur could only deduce one thing: the twins didn't know how to fix it right now; otherwise, they would have admitted it by now. Which meant they wouldn't be able to cure James. He sighed heavily and looked at Sirius.

"They can't fix it yet, and it's unclear when they will. Should we send James to St. Mungo's?"

"St. Mungo's…" Sirius, still a bit drunk, pondered for a while before nodding solemnly. "Sounds good."

The healers at St. Mungo's had studied at the same Hogwarts and couldn't make the correct diagnosis either. They had never encountered a case like James's before. The treatments they tried had no effect, so he was left in the clinic for care and observation.

This went unnoticed by the press, and the newspapers only reported that the unveiling of the monument to Voldemort's defeat had been marred by an unfortunate incident of unknown origin.

"Maybe that's for the best," concluded Rabastan, flipping through the morning papers. "Especially if the incident becomes widespread."