They Live (In The Hufflepuff Common Room).

Ciaran stood up and dusted off his knees; crawling through a false barrel as a method of accessing the Hufflepuff common room had long since lost its novelty and was now just a mildly annoying inconvenience. Still, the ever-changing, delicious smells wafting in from the kitchens through the elaborate chimney system were always nice and the soft, golden light filtering through the large, round windows had a soothing quality. Brightly burnished copper planters overflowed with plants mundane and magical, adding greenery to every corner. With the abundant over-upholstered furniture and charmingly rustic wood-carvings decorating the architecture it was no wonder that the Hufflepuff common room was widely considered to be the cosiest out of all four houses.

In the corner was a huge, dark-wood table with ornate legs carved like those of a dragon, which was popular with Hufflepuff students for spreading out their materials during study groups. Currently, though, it had only one person sitting on its leather-cushioned benches; with his long hair, muggle band tee-shirt worn over a long-sleeved shirt and elaborate dog collar there was no mistaking Oliver Ollivander. He was wearing welding goggles and hunched over a pair of aviator-style sunglasses, pointing his wand at them closely. Bright magical sparks of all colours leaped from his wand-tip to the shades while the boy muttered spells. A shoebox full of more sunglasses was open in front of him and a few other pairs were strewn about the table.

Although Oliver's hair covered his ears Ciaran could see the tell-tail white wires leading from the music-player in his jeans pocket up to (presumably) his ear-buds, and as he drew closer Ciaran could hear the tinny sounds of so-called 'Grunge' music over the constant latin muttering and sizzling sparks. He knew better than to interrupt a complex enchantment in the casting, so he leant on the back of the bench until Oliver reached a natural pause and the long-haired boy put down his wand for a moment. Ciaran tapped him on the shoulder, and his head whipped around with a flinch at the surprise.

"Whoa!" Oliver pushed the goggles up into his hairline. "Oh, hi, C!" Oliver often addressed people by their initial; many professors were 'Prof. S' or 'Prof. G' or even 'Prof McC'. Only Professors Travers and Firethorn were sufficiently intimidating to warrant their full surnames at all times. Oliver reached into his pocket and turned off his M.P.3 player, then yanked out his ear-buds. "Didn't see you there, for a sec. Whassup?"

"You, uh, workin' on something?" Ciaran indicated the sunglasses.

A huge grin spread across Oliver's face.

"Oh yeah! You ever see the film 'They Live'?"

"That, like, a muggle film? No, not that I can remember."

"Oh, you'd remember this one. Basically; aliens have secretly taken over Earth, but nobody knows, 'cause they're using their advanced tech to replicate a super-powerful Decedere hex so the humans perceive them as other humans," He expounded somewhat breathlessly. "And all the advertising billboards, and magazines, and ads on T.V. are all messages telling the humans stuff like 'obey' and 'consume' and 'no independent thought', but the humans can't see what the signs really say; they just see them as, like, regular adverts and stuff!"

"...Because of the hex?" Said Ciaran, showing he was following along.

"Bang on!" Oliver tapped the tip of his nose. "So, anyway, the hero finds a bunch of special sunglasses which have been made to see through the hex-effect, so when anyone puts them on they see all the aliens and creepy 'obey' signs and stuff."

"Okay, I think I see where this is going now." Ciaran eyed up the glasses.

"Yup! I'm trying to enchant some of these goobers with my best Revelio charm; I call them 'Reeb Goggles'!"

"...'Reeb Goggles'?"

"Yeah; they're the opposite of 'beer goggles', they show you more accurate reality instead of less."

"That might be the single worst name I've ever heard for anything ever."

Oliver stuck his tongue out.

"Well, I like it." He gestured at the aviators scattered about the table-top. "Haven't had much luck so far, though. These are the best I've been able to do." He held up a pair with a pinkish hue to the lenses. "Have a go."

Cautiously, Ciaran put them on, glanced at Oliver and whipped them off again.

"UGH!! Warn me next time, would ya!?"

"Yeah, all they do is see through skin. Pretty nasty, huh? I was thinking they might be useful for medical purposes, maybe I'll give them to the nurse?" He held up the pair he'd been working on when Ciaran came in. "Anyway, let's see if fourteenth time's the charm, eh?"

He put on the shades and looked around.

"Well?" Asked Ciaran.

"I can't see all your muscles an' organs or whatever, so that's a plus." Oliver replied, looking the other boy up and down. He scanned the room. "Ah ha!" He swang his legs over the bench and leapt to his feet.

Standing to the left of the fireplace was a bottle-garden in a round glass bottle the size of a large beach-ball. Within, the tangled fronds of various tropical plants wound around each other in a gordian knot of greenery, and condensation on the inside of the glass trickled down like constant rainfall. Once a year, supposedly on Helga Hufflepuff's birthday, the plants within would burst into bloom, but otherwise it was a fairly inert piece of furniture. Oliver trotted over to it and almost pressed his nose up against the glass.

"Wow!" He beckoned to Ciaran. "Hey, C, take a look at this!"

Oliver removed the enchanted aviators and handed them over to Ciaran as he came over. Ciaran gasped as he put them on and looked into the bottle: A whole tiny village had been built amongst the plants, little huts like miniature tree-houses were connected by tiny walk-ways, and tiny, hairy, ant-sized humanoids of some sort moved between them, going about their daily business. Ciaran lifted up the sunglasses to check, and sure enough the whole tableau of the tiny village disappeared, leaving only the dense vegetation of the bottle-garden, but as soon as he lowered the shades again it re-appeared.

"What are they, do you think?" He asked Oliver.

The long-haired boy shrugged.

"Some sort of fairy sub-species, maybe? I guess these plants are kind of topically-looking, so maybe they're from, like, Africa or wherever?"

Something tickled at the back of Ciaran's brain; something from his 'Care of Magical Creatures' textbook.

"Hmm… Tokoloskies, maybe? I think they're a kind of African fairy. I vaguely remember something about them being little and hairy and being able to turn invisible."

"Poor little buggers must've been picked up by accident by whoever made this planter and they've been stuck there ever since." Observed Oliver. "Do you think we should let them out?"

"Probably not." Said Ciaran. "You know what fairies can be like, plus they seem happy enough where they are. Anyway, let's take these sunglasses of yours…."

"Reeb Goggles." Oliver emphatically corrected him.

"...Whatever. Let's take them for a spin and see what we can see in the rest of the school?"

"I was about to suggest the very same thing!"
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Pub: 05 Jun 2025 15:26 UTC

Edit: 05 Jun 2025 16:32 UTC

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