Chapter 7 Truth’s Unveiled

M inerva snuck Archie into her office after school the next day. Her office looked like it had been hit by a tornado made of books and potion ingredients. Shelves sagged under the weight of ancient tomes, jars filled with murky liquids bubbled ominously, and scrolls were strewn across her desk. Archie stood at the other end of the room, flipping through a book titled, "Curses and How to Break Them" while Minerva meticulously pored over the scattered evidence before her, trying to piece together the twisted puzzle of Jezebel's curse and Archie's alleged involvement.

None of it made sense - the clandestine ingredients, the dark magic residue, the evidence suddenly appearing in Archie’s office. It was all too neat, too perfectly calculated to point the finger at the one man she knew in her bones would never stoop to such underhanded tactics.

But if Archie wasn't responsible, then who was? And more importantly, why go to such lengths to frame him, to tarnish his reputation and jeopardize his career?

"Maybe the curse will run its course and go away by itself?" Archie said as he skimmed the text.

"Considering Jezebel's hair turned into snakes during detention today, I doubt it," Minerva replied.

“The entire faculty is trying to find a way to break the curse,” he said. “The most they’ve been able to do is contain it so it’s stopped spreading to the other students.”

“It’s only been a day,” Minerva pointed out.

"Fair point," he muttered, putting the book down and picking up another one. "But if we don't break this curse soon, she'll miss the championship game."

"Can the Grimms win without you coaching them?”

“Yes.”

“Can they win without her?"

"No."

Minerva chewed on her bottom lip, her brow furrowed in concentration as she shuffled through a stack of student files, looking for any hint of motive or opportunity. It had to be someone with access to the locker rooms, someone with a grudge against Jezebel or the field hockey team in general. But who would be so consumed by jealousy, so blinded by ambition, that they would resort to such dangerous black magic?

“Who have you pissed off lately?” Minerva asked.

“The list is long and distinguished.”

She blew out a sigh and started a list of potential suspects.

They spent the next several hours combing through every scrap of evidence, every whispered rumor and half-remembered detail. They looked for any inconsistencies, any hint of motive or opportunity that might point them in the right direction.

Just as she was about to give in to the urge to transfigure the useless papers into a flock of origami cranes and set them loose on the unsuspecting populace, Archie waved a scroll at her. “I think I found something.” He walked over to her and leaned in close. His shoulder brushed against hers, sending a shiver down her spine.

"A recipe for dragon repellent?”

"Seriously, it mentions a counter-curse that could work."

"Great. What do we need?"

"Eye of newt, wing of bat, and...a willing participant to channel the energy. Sounds dangerous."

"Only if done incorrectly.”

"Well, that's reassuring," he said, his sarcasm evident.

"Relax, Coach. I've can make this potion."

"Famous last words.”

"Let's head to the potions classroom," Minerva suggested, gathering a few essential items and stuffing them into her bag. "And we can get started. Once Jezebel is back to normal, we can concentrate our full attention on finding out who cursed her."

"Lead the way," Archie responded, following her out of the cluttered office.

As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of the school Minerva noticed a figure lurking near the entrance to the potions classroom. Naomi Bitterbridge. The girl was hovering around the door, her eyes darting suspiciously.

"Isn't Naomi on our long list of suspects?" Minerva asked.

“Yeah, she was pissed not to make Varsity.” Archie shrugged. “She just wasn’t good enough.”

“She’s an excellent potion brewer.”

“You don’t say.”

"Do you think she could be involved in the curse?" she asked.

"Wouldn't surprise me," he said. “She’s a dirty fighter on the field. Stands to reason she’d be one off it as well.”

"Should we confront her?"

"Not yet. Let's see what she's up to first."

"All right."

They kept to the shadows as Naomi glanced around nervously before hurrying off down the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the silence.

"I wonder what that was all about?”

"I put a mage lock on the potions lab," Minerva said. "She might have been trying to break in."

"We should question her tomorrow,” Archie said.

“I’ll question her. You’re not even supposed to be here. Come on," she urged, turning towards the potions classroom. "We have work to do."

"Right behind you," Archie replied, following her inside.

The air was thick with the scent of various magical ingredients, and the shelves were lined with jars and vials of every size and color. Minerva set her bag down on the nearest table and began searching for the necessary components. She surveyed the scattered ingredients on the workbench, her brow furrowed in concentration. Eye of newt, wing of bat, essence of belladonna...all powerful components, but without the proper catalyst, they were little more than a recipe for disaster. Minerva set to work, chopping and grinding the components with practiced precision.

As the potion began to simmer, she turned to Archie with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Now comes the fun part," she said, holding up the knife. "I need a willing participant to channel the energy of the counter-curse. And since you're the only other person here..."

Archie's reaction was predictable, and Minerva had to suppress a smile as he blanched and stepped back. She rolled her eyes, amused by his trepidation. "Relax, you big baby. It's not going to hurt...much."

“Fine.” He stoically held out his hand.

Minerva steeled herself and drew the knife across his palm, wincing as blood welled up. She let a few drops fall into the cauldron, and instantly, the potion began to froth and hiss, turning a deep, vibrant purple.

As she chanted the incantation, Minerva felt the energy of the counter-curse surging through her, a powerful, almost painful force that made her body go rigid. Her eyes rolled back, and her hair whipped around her face as if caught in an invisible wind.

Dimly, she was aware of Archie catching her, holding her close as the sphere of light grew and burst above them. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Minerva went limp, her breathing shallow and ragged.

"Did it work?" she croaked, her voice hoarse. "Is the counter-curse ready?"

“Looks good to me.” Archie stared into the cauldron. “But you’re the expert.”

Minerva managed a weak smile and stirred the potion counterclockwise. “I think we did it. I couldn't have done it without you.”

But their moment of triumph was short-lived. A sudden movement caught Minerva's eye, and she frowned, peering into the shadows. "Archie," she whispered. "I think there's someone else here."

Archie had his wand out in an instant. Minerva strained her eyes, trying to see the ripple in reality again.

Suddenly, Archie whirled and fired off a reveal beam from his wand. “Gotcha.”

The dim shade was flung against the wall and came visible upon impact. A boy, about the age of a seventh year stood before them. She didn’t recognize him.

"Who are you?" Minerva demanded, her hand drifting to her own wand. "What are you doing here?"

“He’s a thief,” Archie said, twirling his wand. Ropes appeared and tied up the boy’s wrists and ankles.

“I’m not a thief,” the boy said nervously. “I’m a spy.”

“A spy?” Minerva and Archie exchanged looks.

The boy sighed. “I’m the water boy from Because’s field hockey team. We heard that there were some weird things going on and I was sent to find out what.”

Minerva opened her mouth to demand more answers, but before she could utter a word, a sudden crash echoed through the potions lab. Minerva whirled around, her wand at the ready, just in time to see a shadowy figure darting towards the bubbling cauldron containing the counter-curse potion.

"Oh no, you don't." Minerva flicked her wand with a flourish. A jet of shimmering purple light shot from the tip, hitting the would-be thief square in the chest. The figure froze mid-step, then toppled over like a felled tree, their invisibility spell shattering like a pane of glass.

Archie let out a low whistle, his eyebrows climbing towards his hairline as he took in the prone form sprawled on the stone floor. "Well, well, well," he drawled, a note of recognition in his voice. "If it isn't the star goalie from Why High. Fancy meeting you here, Miss Pepper Bogsworth."

"You have exactly ten seconds to explain yourself before I turn you into a toadstool and use you as potion ingredients," Minerva said, her voice dripping with disdain as she leveled her wand at the girl's nose.

Pepper's eyes widened, her freckled face paling beneath the mop of fiery red curls. "W-wait," she stammered, holding up her hands in a gesture of supplication. "I can explain. It's not what it looks like."

"Oh, this should be good," Archie muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing Pepper with a look of deep skepticism.

Pepper's face crumpled, tears welling up in her bright green eyes. "I didn't mean for it to go this far," she wailed, her words spilling out in a jumbled rush. "I just wanted to be the best, to prove that I was better than that smug, stuck-up Jezebel. But the potion, it backfired, and then the curse started spreading, and I didn't know what to do."

Minerva felt a cold, sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, a dawning realization that this was a simple case of athletic rivalry gone too far. "Archie," she said, her voice strained. "I think it's time we called in the big wands. We need The Raven down here, now."

Archie nodded, his expression grim as he waved his wand in a complex pattern. A silvery wisp of smoke shot from the tip, coalescing into the shape of a sleek, ghostly raven before soaring out the door and disappearing down the corridor.

"Message sent," he said, tucking his wand back into his robes. "She should be here any minute."

And indeed, barely a moment had passed before the door to the potions lab burst open, revealing the imposing figure of Headmistress Raven herself. She swept into the room, her midnight-black robes billowing behind her like a pair of great, shadowy wings. Her raven familiar Edgar was perched on her shoulder.

"Professors Everhart and Hawthorne," she said, her voice a low, melodious purr. "I received your summons. What seems to be the problem?"

Minerva stepped forward, gesturing to the two captive students with a jerk of her chin. "We have a situation, Headmistress," she said, her tone clipped and businesslike. "These two were caught sneaking around and trying to steal the counter-curse potion we've been working on. And from what we've gathered, Pepper over here may have had a hand in cursing Jezebel Nightshade in the first place."

The Raven's eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpening to laser-like intensity as she fixed the trembling students with a look that could have melted stone. "Is that so?" she murmured, her voice deceptively soft. "Well then, I think it's time we had a little chat, don't you?"

What followed was a spectacle that Minerva would never forget, a masterclass in intimidation and psychological manipulation that left her both awed and slightly terrified. The Raven circled the two miscreants like a shark scenting blood in the water, her questions sharp and probing, her eyes glittering with a kind of feral intensity that seemed to strip away all pretense and leave only the raw, unvarnished truth.

Under her relentless interrogation, the story came spilling out in fits and starts, a sordid tale of jealousy, ambition, and magical misdeeds. Pepper, it seemed, had been consumed with the desire to outshine Jezebel on the field, to prove herself the superior athlete once and for all. She had brewed a potion meant to enhance her own performance, but in her haste and inexperience, had botched the recipe.

The resulting concoction had not only failed to give her the boost she craved but had actually cursed her with a string of humiliating mishaps and blunders that had cost her team game after game. Desperate to undo the damage and save face, Pepper had sought out a source for more potent, illicit ingredients - a source that had led her straight to Jezebel.

For as it turned out, Jezebel had her own secrets, her own clandestine dealings in the shadowy world of black-market potion supplies. She and Pepper had struck a deal, trading rare herbs and forbidden tinctures in a dangerous game of magical one-upmanship.

But Pepper, ever the opportunist, had seen her chance for revenge. Using the very ingredients Jezebel had procured for her own nefarious purposes, she had cursed Jezebel, dosing her with a twisted variant of her own failed potion during one of their illicit exchanges.

The curse had taken hold quickly, ravaging Jezebel's body and mind, turning her from a feared and formidable opponent to a laughingstock overnight. But Pepper's triumph had been short-lived, for the curse, it seemed, was not content to claim just one victim.

It had backfired and Pepper was cursed again as well. Pepper had grown desperate, resorting to theft and subterfuge in a last-ditch attempt to secure the counter-curse and save her own skin.

As for the hapless water boy, he was little more than a pawn, a patsy sent to do the dirty work of those too clever to risk exposure themselves. He had been promised glory, wealth, the chance to rise above his station and join the ranks of the elite. But in the end, they were going to disavow any knowledge about him.

By the time the sordid tale was told, Minerva was shaking her head. She had known that the world of competitive sports could be cutthroat, that the drive to win could push people to the brink of madness. But this was beyond anything she could have imagined.

The Raven, for her part, seemed grimly unsurprised by the revelations, her expression one of weary resignation rather than shock or outrage. With a wave of her wand, she conjured a set of glowing, ethereal shackles that snapped around the wrists and ankles of the two miscreants, binding them in place.

"Pepper Bogsworth and...what was your name again, boy?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

"E-Erasmus Dankworth, ma'am," the water boy stammered, his face pale and sweaty.

"Pepper Bogsworth and Erasmus Dankworth," the Raven intoned, her voice ringing with a kind of grim finality. "You stand accused of conspiracy, sabotage, and the use of dark magic against a fellow student. These are grave charges, and ones that will not be taken lightly."

She turned to Minerva and Archie, her expression softening almost imperceptibly. "Professors, I thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. Rest assured, these two will be dealt with in accordance with the full extent of Magical Law. All of the towns magical academies do not tolerate cheaters or curse-throwers."

"And the counter-curse?" Archie asked.

The Raven's lips quirked in a small, enigmatic smile. "You can use it on Jezebel, but whether it works or not, she’s off the field hockey team."

Archie sputtered and would have argued, but Minerva reached down and gripped his hand in warning. Jezebel had fucked around and was now about to find out. Archie seemed to realize that and nodded unhappily.

With that, The Raven turned on her heel and swept out of the room, the two prisoners floating along behind her like macabre marionettes.

"That was... intense," Archie said. He reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining.

"Just another day at Grimm Mawr School of Magical Arts," Minerva said. "You know, for a jock, you did pretty well back there."

"Don't sell yourself short, Professor," Archie replied, pulling her closer. "For a nerd, you handled that chaos like a pro."

"Is that your way of saying thank you?" she teased, leaning into him.

"Maybe," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Or maybe it's my way of saying I couldn't have done it without you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Coach," Minerva smiled, squeezing his hand.

"Good, because I've got nowhere else I'd rather be," Archie admitted, feeling her warmth seep into him.

"Same here," she said softly, looking up at him through her lashes. Minerva took a deep, steadying breath, squaring her shoulders as she turned back to the bubbling cauldron. "Right then. Let's get this cursed cure brewed and bottled. We've got a student to save, and you have a trophy to win."