An Unlikely Coven

*

"Wait a minute, wait a minute! Back that up! Ma, you're telling me that I have to do what?"

Linda Potter's face showed a mixture of confusion, apprehension, and downright disgust.

"It's simple, dear," Hermione Potter explained calmly. "Take your father's wand, go into the bathroom back there, tap yourself three times on the head, and say, 'Cosmetillius alteranium'. Nothing to it."

"I can't believe this," Linda muttered, twisting around in her seat in order to express her consternation. "You really have gone nuts, haven't you, Ma?"

"Linda, what's wrong with that?" asked Hermione, raising her eyebrows. "It's easy."

"Ma-a, it's a crime! It's a travesty! It's a complete and utter disgrace! I could die!" Linda stated dramatically.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Linda drew in a deep breath, and flipped her long, black hair behind her shoulder. "I cannot believe that you expect me to enter a public bathroom."

"You're worked up over that?" her father asked incredulously, leaning forward.

"Ma, Dad, do you have any idea what goes on in those- those- facilities?" Linda asked, eyes wide. "The utter filth and disgrace that festers within those four unisex metal walls? The things that people will do when they know they don't have to clean anything up? Do you? Do you? The raucous behavior and disregard for courtesy that takes place on that tiled floor? Ever heard of the Mile High Club, for God's sake?"

Joey Malfoy opened his eyes at the last statement. "Oh, yeah."

Linda smacked him. "Pervert. Anyway, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, the chances of my catching a life-threatening disease in that sorry excuse for a toilet are too high for my liking."

"Linda, your level of fastidiousness rivals that of a hospital," Joey remarked. "The only way you're going to catch anything is if you make out with the toilet seat, which I highly doubt you'll do."

Linda scowled. "There are germs everywhere! I don't think I could stand the thought of being in the same place that someone did something very, very gross in."

Bobby Weasley looked up from Variety. "My dog was slobbering all over my pillow last night, and you picked it up and threw it at Joey. And you're not dead yet."

Linda didn't hear him- she was rummaging through her purse for a Sani-Wipe, muttering to herself about "that damn dog" and "those damn germs".

"Don't swear, Linda. Or at least do it quietly enough so that your mother and I can't hear you. Anyway, you took a shower before we left." Harry Potter sighed. "You almost made us all late, remember? I think that any residue you got from Trigger is gone by now."

"Not the point," Linda responded, pulling the little packet out from the depths of her purse with a flourish. "Do you realize how many surfaces I've touched since then? Countertops, railings, this seat! It's enough to make someone puke!"

"I'm going to puke in a few minutes if you don't get that Sani-Wipe away from my nose," Joey grumbled, coughing. "The stench is unbearable!"

"It's the scent of sanitation," Linda replied defensively. "Besides, in a few minutes, it'll be gone."

"Only to be replaced by the smell of Bath and Body Works' Cucumber Melon Antibacterial Gel," Bobby retorted. "Do you bathe in that stuff or something?"

"Cucumber Melon? Yes, they make a bubble bath," Linda replied haughtily. "It's fresh, and clean."

"Well, when you're spending extended periods of time, in cramped spaces-" Joey shifted uncomfortably in the business-class plane seat "-with someone that wears it twenty-four/seven/three-sixty-five, it tends to lose that fresh appeal."

"Linda Felicity Potter." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I can't believe I have to use your full name.....you are going to go into that bathroom. You can't just change out here, for God's sake."

"Why not? We're the only dorks that are in this class, on this flight."

"True," Harry admitted, "but still, I think it would be better if you all went into the bathroom and transformed there. The flight attendants might not take notice of someone that looks different- God knows, this bunch isn't the brightest- but I'm sure they'd notice if they just came in, and saw you in mid-transformation." Harry passed Linda his wand. "Just go. I promise, if you touch anything and get a fatal disease, we'll be very, very sad. Okay?" He pushed up Linda's seat, which had been half-reclined.

"Ma-a....." Linda whined, but she stood up.

Ron Weasley looked up from his computer screen momentarily. "Bobby. Briefcase. Third compartment, on the left. I expect it back, in one piece."

Bobby followed the instructions, and pulled out his father's magic wand. "Interesting. Very interesting," he commented. "When I was six, you told me that this was a new type of computer disk. I was wondering why I never saw it on the market."

Ron grinned. "Hey, it kept you from asking too many questions."

"All right, Dad, where's yours?" Joey hopped out of his seat, headphones dangling around his neck.

"Who said you could use mine, kiddo?" Draco Malfoy smirked. "Why don't you ask your mother?"

"I don't know, Dad, maybe because she's up in first class, reading palms and tea leaves. And making one hell of a profit," Joey pointed out. "The rich sure do pay well."

"Oh, is that where she is? I thought she went to go get 'auras' from the pilots. Seeing if we're going to crash or not." Draco shrugged.

"Yeah, she did that already. She got 'pleasant' vibes, I think. She was in the lotus position and humming when I went up to see her, so it wasn't really clear.....hey, Dad, why aren't we up in first class?" Joey asked suddenly. "Can't we afford it?"

"Listen, Joey, this was a spur of the moment thing," Draco answered. "It's all on my MasterCard, and the interest rates are going to give me heartburn when I see the bill. Besides, your mother, actress that she is, likes to pretend that she's starving so that she gets more money out of her customers. And so she can annoy me." He pulled his wand out of his pocket. "Don't break it, or I'm going to make you go to work with your mother for the next week."

Joey gingerly accepted the wand, and handed it to Linda. "You're more responsible than I am, Germbuster. I don't feel like drinking herbal tea and breathing in Opium perfume for the next seven days."

"Oooh, herbal tea! Good idea, Joey," Lavender Weasley momentarily stopped clacking away at her husband's laptop computer. "I'm assembling the menu and beverage list for the Berdenberg-Liebowitz wedding next week."

Joey wrinkled his nose. "Berdenberg, as in Judi Berdenberg?"

"Berdenberg, as in Lisbeth Berdenberg, her older sister," his aunt replied. "She's getting married to Paul Liebowitz."

This time, it was Linda's turn to wrinkle her nose. "Paul Liebowitz, as in the older brother of Jerry Liebowitz?"

"Yes. What, is something wrong?" Lavender took off her reading glasses.

"No, nothing. Only that Judith Berdenberg has followed me around for the last ten years," groaned Joey. "The mere thought of her makes me queasy. Even more so than that sanitation smell Linda's sporting."

"At least you're repelled by it. Jerry Liebowitz is turned on by it," Linda retorted. "I caught that kid going through my purse, sniffing Sani-Wipes! I was appalled."

Bobby regarded them both with a look of self-pity. "Nothing can be worse than having to sit next to Francesca Walters, in every class, since kindergarten. May the teachers that seat by alphabetical order burn in hell!"

"Anyway, anyway, get back there," Hermione interrupted their rants. "Remember.....cosmetillius alteranium....."

"All right, Ma, we're going," Linda replied grudgingly. She walked to the back of the section, Bobby and Joey close behind.

I'm not touching the door handle," Linda said vehemently. "No sirree, I'm not going near it. That's where you find all sorts of bacteria."

"Oh, and make us feel so much better about it," Joey remarked sarcastically. "Thanks, Linney, we appreciate it." Haltingly, he turned the handle of the door, and walked into the small cubby of a restroom.

"Bobby, you're next," Linda said firmly. "I'm not going in until I absolutely have to. And I'm the first one out, too."

Bobby threw her a strange look. "All right, Linda, if you insist....." He, too, walked in.

Alone in the corridor, Linda took a deep breath of (relatively) fresh air, and walked slowly into the bathroom.

"See, look, it's not that bad," Joey commented. "There's not really any visible filth, you see?"

"That's what they want you to think," Linda said, flinging out her arms. "The really dangerous things are invisible, you know!" She narrowly avoided a collision with the sink.

"All right, let's get this over with. Then, we won't have to listen to Linda's complaints about this place anymore," Bobby said grimly.

"What is this going to do to us, anyway?" Joey wondered, carefully taking his father's wand from Linda. "I mean, I know it changes our appearances, but to what?"

"I don't know," Linda responded, keeping her intake of air to a minimum. "I think we keep the same clothes we're in."

Bobby let out a sigh of relief, looking down at his attire. "Thank God, I don't know what I'd do without these shirts."

Linda surveyed Bobby's clothing. He never really changed his outfit; he merely had different variations. A white tee-shirt, topped off with a very loud Hawaiian shirt, with denim shorts and his beat-up Vans. "Bobby, I don't think I've seen you in anything other than that for the last two years. Fashion moves in cycles, and I think yours is almost up....."

"So? I'll just keep wearing this for another twenty years, until it's back in fashion. That's about the last time this was around," Bobby retorted.

"Kind of weird, isn't it, to think that our parents, at our age, wore the same things we're wearing now." Linda wondered aloud.

She turned, and looked at Joey. "Same goes for you." Joey's never-ending supply of Old Navy tee-shirts- today's, navy blue with orange trim- all seemed to match his equally large supply of cargo shorts- currently, army green. And his footwear.....Linda always joked that he slept in his Adidas sneakers.

Both of the boys turned to look at their compulsively-neat friend. "Oh, like you ever wear anything different." Bobby raised a bright-red eyebrow.

Linda had to admit, they were right. An Abercrombie & Fitch long-sleeved tee-shirt with khaki shorts and Birkenstock (all right, so she bought them at Payless) sandals; yes, that was her uniform.

"Oh, excuse me while I go buy outrageously expensive clothing that I could get a million times cheaper at other stores if I didn't care so much about the name," Joey said, in a high-pitched falsetto.

"It's comfortable, and it's well made." Linda was on the defense again. "Besides....." she trailed off, searching for another counter-argument.

"Ooh, is the argumentative designer-clothing wearer at a loss for words?" Joey teased. "I thought I'd never see the day....."

"Admit it, Linda, you just like rubbing it in Felicia Sanchez's face that you have designer clothes, and she doesn't," Bobby grinned mischievously.

"I do not!" Linda's face, however, gradually softened. "All right, maybe it is nice to wear something nice when I have to deal with that little poodle-haired brat....."

"Honestly, Linda, I'm surprised that you haven't popped her in the eye yet this year," Bobby remarked. "Especially after that whole thing with Mark Harrison....."

"For the last time, Bobby, I don't like Mark Harrison!" Linda pulled a face. "It was a mere infatuation, simple as that. But Felicia decided that it would be very interesting to steal the object of my- ahem- infatuation out from under my nose, specifically to annoy me....."

Joey frowned. "Mark is an idiot, plain and simple, Lin. You weren't in your right mind when you were going after him."

"Duh, Joey. I was there," said Linda. "Now, can we get this over with, so I can get out of this brothel-excuse for a bathroom?"

"Okay. What was the spell again?" Bobby examined his father's wand.

"Cosmetillius alteranium." Linda pulled her father's wand out of her purse, and tapped herself three times on the head.

"Cosmetillius alteranium!" she said forcefully.

Suddenly, there was a pop; and, when the purple-tinged smoke that had appeared died away, the only girl standing in the bathroom bore no visible resemblance to Linda Potter. This girl actually looked a bit like Joey Malfoy. Short, straight, whitish-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a shade of tan usually seen only on those who summer in the Caribbean- the exact opposite of the dark-haired, pale-faced Linda.

"Freaky," commented Bobby. "Linda, you look like-"

"One of those girls I hate," Linda finished, examining herself in the mirror. "Perfect skin, perfect hair, ew, where did this makeup come from? I guess this turns you into your physical opposite."

Joey's eyes shot towards Linda's reflection. "Hey, is that thing on your head still there?"

Linda lifted her bangs. "Yup," she said, looking at the little lightning-bolt-shaped scar on her forehead. "I think that's with me for life, thanks."

Joey looked down sheepishly. "Is it my fault you were in my way?"

"I was the goalie, you idiot! I was supposed to be in your way! Readjusting my pads! It's basically written in the rule book of ice hockey- you do not, in the middle of practice, come up to the net and take a shot at the indisposed goaltender!"

"Give me a break, I was eight," Joey returned. "Besides, it was kind of interesting, seeing all that blood pouring out of your head, wasn't it?"

"I wouldn't know, I was unconscious," Linda snapped. "You're lucky I was, otherwise, there would have been an incident involving my skate blade and your ear."

"Like Tyson and Holyfield?" Bobby grinned.

"The skate blade would have been much more painful than my teeth." Linda said, examining her scar a bit further. It was light, and smaller, moreso than her father's scar, which, oddly enough, was nearly identical to hers. He claimed to have gotten it while playing hockey, but now, in light of recent revelations, Linda wasn't so sure.....

"Cosmetillius alteranium!" Bobby suddenly called, tapping himself on the head three times.

"Hey.....I just wanted to get it over with," he coughed, as the smoke surrounding him cleared.

"Uh.....nice hair, kid," Linda giggled.

"What are you talking about?....." Bobby whirled around, and looked in the mirror. "Oh, my God," he said, "I look like a freak."

Bobby's hair had changed from its normally brilliant red to an even more brilliant green. His freckles were gone, and he seemed to have wound up with, of all things, Linda's complexion.

"Duuuude," Joey snickered, "you look like a frog."

"No," Linda choked out, doubled over in laughter, "he looks like you, you know, that time where you tried to 'brighten' your hair, and then went swimming?"

Joey was too busy laughing to yell at her. "No.....no.....he looks a little like Boy George. The weird hair, that pale skin....."

Bobby was not amused. "All right, Mister I'm-So-Cool, let's see you do it. Can't wait to see how you turn out."

"Fine," Joey replied, still chuckling. He tapped himself three times on the head, and....."Cosmetillius alteranium!"

"Can't wait to see how this one turns out," Bobby muttered, fingering his newly grassy locks. "Knowing Joey.....whoa," he suddenly stopped. "And I thought my transformation was a little odd....."

Joey Malfoy now bore a distinct resemblance to....."

"Coolio," Linda muttered. "You look like the Gangsta's Paradise guy."

Joey tugged on one of his dreadlocks. "Not really. Mine are shorter, I think."

Bobby sniggered into his hand. "That's what happens when you look like a dead fish most of the time, Joey."

The newly African-American boy raised an eyebrow. "Don't pass judgment, Kermit."

"Why, you little....." Bobby scowled.

"All right, all right, we're done, now let's get out of here before I catch something!" Linda pushed against the door with her shoulder, and practically ran down the aisle.

"Why is it always about you, Linda? What happens if I happen to catch something?" Joey called after her.

"Yeah, we should be more worried about you," Bobby nodded sagely.

"Why?" Joey looked puzzled.

"Because, you're the one that's most likely to make out with the toilet seat."

*