Cormac McLaggen and the Doxy Diversion

Author's Notes: This was inspired by something that was insinuated in Wizarding World Press' Ultimate Unofficial Guide to Harry Potter (Analysis of Book 6) by Galadriel Waters.

"I'm definitely trying out for Keeper this year, I'll be the best one Gryffindor has ever had!" Sixth Year Cormac McLaggen declared boldly to his dormmates, though he'd been more than loud enough for the rest of the Gryffindor Common Room to hear. It was the night before Quidditch tryouts, and while there was only one position open, there were plenty of people raring to try and fill it.

"Fat chance of that," Fred said dismissively from a nearby corner as he looked up from the parchment diagram he was working on with George.

McLaggen was taken aback at the very idea and stomped over to them. "What makes you say that?!" He was an imposing figure, but the twins showed no fear whatsoever.

"Oliver Wood was the best Keeper we've ever had, that's what."

"You're just as long-winded as he is, we'll give you that," George added with a bemused grin.

"But he only got away with it because he was Team Captain-"

"-and last we checked, we've already got one of those."

But the younger Keeper wannabe refused to back down despite that and the twins' sniggering. "I've made over a hundred amazing saves and can be an invaluable asset to the team regardless of position. Hell, I bet I could out-Beater the both of you!"

The room suddenly grew dead silent as the other Gryffindors waited to see how they would react. Fred and George looked at each other, then up at McLaggen, and promptly burst out laughing. So did everyone else who had seen the Weasley Twins in action on the pitch; no student or students could top their Beater brilliance. McLaggen tried to voice his indignation, but the roaring crowd drowned him out.

"We can't let that braggart try out for the team, he'll be a nightmare," George whispered in Fred's ear as the laughter started to die down.

"Don't worry, I've got an idea." Fred slyly produced a flask filled with what looked like oily black marbles from his rucksack. McLaggen couldn't see it because of the way they were holding the parchment. "Reckon we can spare some of these in the name of Quidditch?"

"I reckon we can." Fred put away the flask, and George rolled up the parchment and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his robes. The twins then stood up, adopting a casual manner in the face of their prey. "You're a betting man, then?"

"Course I am! Bets, dares, I'll try anything once."

"Anything?"

Ignoring their devious tone, McLaggen launched into a speech about all the gold he'd won in the past from doing various dangerous dares and whatnot. "–The only one I ever turned down was last year, when someone dared me to snog a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but only because I didn't know which end to snog. But if I'd known, believe me, I would've done it!"

"Should've paid better attention to your lessons then," Fred replied, shaking a finger at him. That would have been fun to watch despite the obvious danger.

McLaggen crossed his arms in annoyance. "Nevermind that, what's the bet?"

"Tomorrow, just before dinner, you have to eat a pound of doxy eggs without getting sick. Ten Galleons says you can't do it."

Their mother had unwittingly staged the de-doxying of number twelve, Grimmauld Place at the best possible time: just after mating season. Lockhart's book hadn't mentioned when that time of the year was, but how else could one explain the large number of eggs they'd collected from the nests? When clean-up time had come, George had casually volunteered to dispose of the contraband. But instead of apparating to the dustbins outside, he reappeared in the twins' room and quickly hid the eggs in a few Unbreakable Charm'd jars before disapparating away and pretending to come back in from outside.

"I bloody well can, I've got a cast-iron stomach! 'Cast-Iron McLaggen,' that's me!" He patted his stomach proudly. "You've got yourself a bet."

"We'll see you tomorrow in the classroom near the end of the Fifth Floor corridor then, Cast-Iron."

"And I'll see you at tryouts afterwards with your ten Galleons, Weasleys." They shook on it, then headed for their respective dormitories, both parties grinning deviously but for different reasons.

* * * * * *

The following evening, most of the Gryffindor Seventh Years made their way out of McGonagall's Classroom and headed downstairs for dinner. But Fred and George abruptly broke off and started to head in a different direction, an action which did not go unnoticed by their fellow teammates.

"Where are you going, we've got Quidditch tryouts right after dinner!" Angelina called after them. "Harry can't make it because of Umbridge, but that doesn't mean you two can skive off as well!"

Fred looked back and grinned at her. "Relax, 'Lina, we'll be down soon enough."

"We've got some unfinished business to attend to. And we're doing her a favor in the process, come to that." George whispered the latter to his brother as they moved on.

"Definitely. We haven't even started practice yet and already the stress of Captaincy is getting to her. The last thing she needs is McLaggen giving her more stress."

A short time later, they were in the designated classroom making final and mostly unnecessary preparations. Fred placed an empty bowl and spoon they'd borrowed from the kitchens earlier on the desk closest to the door, which was covered in a red and white checkered tablecloth. In front of the bowl was a candle and the flask of doxy eggs. George had just lit the former when McLaggen strode in looking smug.

His expression turned to one of surpise once he spotted the setup. "What's all this rubbish?"

"Thought it would enhance the 'experience' a bit," Fred explained, then gestured to the desk with one arm. "Ready for your doxy dinner?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

McLaggen sat down, and George emptied the flask into the bowl. "Bon Appetit!"

The younger boy immediately dug in and brought the first spoonful to his lips. The eggs tasted quite nasty and were hard to chew, but he refused to back out of it. His reputation was at stake! Finally, he swallowed the eggs and managed to keep them down after fighting his gag reflex. Fred and George simply watched him in silent anticipation.

Figuring that the faster he got it over with, the better, McLaggen attempted to quickly shovel spoonful after spoonful of the foul things into his mouth, only half-chewing them before forcing them down. But by the time he'd nearly emptied the bowl, he was feeling more than a bit queasy, desperately trying not to show it, and failing.

Their victory was assured, but the twins still encouraged him to finish the meal, pretending not to notice the increasingly visible signs of their housemate's ailment. Heartened, McLaggen finished off the last few doxy eggs and grinned at them weakly.

"Ha... told you I could... do it..." His vision swam, and he couldn't think too clearly now, so the wand that was suddenly pointed at his face barely registered in his brain. He also failed to notice when one of the twins extracted ten Galleons from his (McLaggen's) robes. They could have easily robbed him blind if they'd felt like it, but that wasn't the purpose of this cruel but effective prank.

"Confundo!" shouted Fred, or was it George? It was harder for him to tell than usual. "You will forget who you bet against but remember losing. You will go to the Hospital Wing now. You will forget this conversation. Do you understand?"

His eyes even more unfocused, McLaggen attempted to nod in agreement, but barely managed half a nod before his head leaned to one side. The wand was put away, and McLaggen attempted to get up from his chair, only to tumble partially into the aisle, all but wedged between the two desks.

It was obvious now that they would have to escort him to his assigned destination, though McLaggen struggled weakly as he attempted to comply. Thankfully, Fred had anticipated this and chosen a classroom close to the Hospital Wing so they wouldn't have far to go. The twins circled around to the second desk, seized him by the arms, and pulled him to his feet.

"Come along, mate, you'd best let Madam Pomfrey have a look at you," said George as they dragged him toward the door. McLaggen's reply was unintelligible.

Realizing it would look suspicious, Fred temporarily freed his right arm and waved his wand at the vacated desk, causing the setup to vanish. The resulting weight shift reminded him that there was a better way to move their victim. "Mobilicorpus!" McLaggen was jerked into the air, seemingly hanging from invisible puppet strings. Another wand gesture, and he floated behind the twins as they headed down the corridor.

"Now why didn't you think of that in the first place?" George asked in a slightly annoyed tone as he rubbed his sore shoulder.

"Might not have been as easy considering the position he fell into."

"True." They quickly made their way to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey immediately gave them a suspicious look once she spotted McLaggen. "It wasn't us this time, honest. He got in a bet with some Slytherins who made him eat Doxy eggs," George explained as his twin floated McLaggen over to the matron before letting him down.

"We heard him bragging about the challenge earlier but didn't know where he'd be doing it. By the time we got there, it was over."

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue, put the younger boy in one of the beds, and started examining him. "Students these days and their foolish bets... How long has it been since you found him?"

"Not long at all, will he be all right?" Fred asked with fake concern.

"It will take time, but he should pull through."

"Oh thank Merlin." George wasn't quite as relieved as he sounded. With the braggart safely out of the way, they headed downstairs to dinner.

* * * * * *

Later, they were making their way onto the Quidditch Pitch with most of the other team members and Keeper hopefuls. "Where's Cormac?" asked one of the latter, looking around confusedly. "You'd think he would have come early."

"Lost a bet he'd made with some Slytherins and ended up in the Hospital Wing." Fred sighed and shook his head. "Such a shame."

"Really, now? How do I know you didn't have anything to do with that after what he said last night?"

The twins were unfazed by the all-too-accurate accusation. "Of course we didn't!"

"Even we know where to draw the line." George waited until the other student had moved on before adding, "This was just putting a toe or two across it."

* * * * * *

Author's Notes: If anyone cares, the inspirational paragraph was this:

"McLaggen says he missed trials the previous year due to a bet that landed him in the hospital for eating doxy eggs. Let's see...he's an oaf...he's bad on morale...he interferes with his own team...and the competition loves him. So if you were Gred and Forge, and you had a few extra Doxy eggs lying around, what would you do?"
- Wizarding World Press' Ultimate Unofficial Guide to Harry Potter (Analysis of Book 6) by Galadriel Waters, pg. 92