2027-02-14: Spigot's Quest


Amon, Spigot

Scene Title Spigot's Quest
Synopsis Amon draws a house-elf into his plot for revenge.
Location Library
Date Februrary 14, 2027
Watch For One very masochistic elf.
Logger Amon

Library - Hogwarts

There is a curious scent in the air which seems to be a mingling of dust, mildew, parchment and old leather. If this chamber were to be emptied out, it would resemble an immense cavern. Even the smallest, softest sounds seem to be magnified in here. Supported by a multitude of slender, graceful columns, the lofty ceiling has been delicately painted with murals of studious Witches and Wizards.

Tens of thousands of books are housed in this vast chamber, and the shelves are maze-like in their layout, twisting and turning in illogical directions. Ladders provide the only access to dusty tomes on the highest shelves. Leather sofas, upholstered armchairs, and tables with comfortable chairs are littered throughout the room. High, narrow stained glass windows are occasionally found between the shelves, but the light they offer is diffused and dim. Instead, the majority of light comes from unbreakable, glass oil lamps which are scattered atop the tables throughout the room.

The lending desk is adjacent to the large doors leading into the library, and within eyeshot of the desk is a section that has been roped-off. A wooden plaque near this group of shelves reads: 'Restricted Section: No Entry Without Permission'. To either side of the entry the black glass-like sheets of several holotubes are mounted on the wall. These magical devices have been especially enchanted to take softly spoken search requests from students looking for particular books.
Obvious exits:

A flash of odd magical light appears in the library, and a small diminutive humanoid creature suddenly appears! Limping forward on what seems to be a broken left foot, he mumbles, "Must gets the Master's books. Wants them always, does he! Kept clean, too! Must not upset the Master, oh no, poor Spigot must makes him happy, he must!"

Amon is hardly inclined to be seen in public, but even he dares not defy the call of book return. Merlin Forbid he has an overdue. The young man has worn a scowl since the moment his absurd obsession with the Professor was cured, and has spent a great deal of time out of sight, snapping at anyone who dared approach; and if looks could kill, those few foolish enough to mock him would be a pile of smoldering ash. He drops the books onto the check-in desk and turns to go, only to be distracted by a hobbling elf. A look of disgusted disapproval enters Amon's face, though it's a toss up over seeing an elf in pain, or seeing an elf at all. Don't they keep to the shadows in Hogwarts? "And whom, exactly, is your master?" he drawls in distaste.

"Oh, musn't upset the young wizard! Oh, musn't!" shrieks Spigot in his high-pitched voice, looking up in surprise and fear at Amon. His large eyes blink. Looking for anything close to hand, which happens to be a black metal stapler, the House-elf starts jamming staples into the side of its head! "Bad, bad Spigot! Upset the young wizard, he did! Oh, displeased the Master! Not supposed to bother the young students, we musn't!" Staple! Staple!

Amon rolls his eyes. "Merlin's beard, a wonder of modern magic; breading a race incapable of self-preservation. Stop that, you useless twit. I'll not be responsible for inciting another man's property to damaging itself!" he snaps, leaning forward to glare at the twisted creature. "I asked, WHOM is your master?" he reminds the creature pointedly.

The stapler seems to have run empty, but that is not enough to stop a House-elf in need of self-mutilation! Spigot starts to smack himself upside the head with the metal item, all the while yelling, "Bad, Spigot! We begs your pardon, young master wizard!" The House-elf falls upon his knees as his wobbling legs give out on him. "So sorry, young master wizard! Did not mean to upset you none, Spigot did not!" He has not, of course, answered the question. The creature simply goes on bashing its head in with the stapler.

"Mmm, Spigot, is it? Would I be correct in assuming Spigot is prohibited in some way from Naming his master?" Amon asks archly, arms crossed over his chest as he glowers down at the poor creature with narrowed eyes. Ah, far more interesting than your average masochistic house elf; it's a mystery. Amon must be hard up for them, these days—anything to distract from how great a fool he'd made himself.

"Oh no! Must not disgrace the Master, must not say his name! Spigot is forbidden, or Spigot must iron his tongue!" the House-elf answers Amon. "Not supposed to bother the students, either, Spigot is not. Poor, Spigot! Only supposed to get the books, get the books. Why can't Spigot get the books! Pardons, young master wizard!" The stapler has been thrown in the air - it is discarded. As Spigot is excited, he inadvertently releases some form of magic which causes books and scrolls to start flying off shelves! Dozens of them are flying everywhere, smacking the ground and causing havoc and disarray! "Stupid, bad, evil, nasty Spigot!" wails the House-elf, oblivious to the chaos he is creating.

Amon considers for a moment, standing in a storm of scrolls and books. "Spigot, you are causing a mess, and if one of those books hits me in the head, I will find out who your master is, and then there will be real trouble. If you cease your tantrum — or at least, the elements of it which could cause injury to person or volume — I will withdraw my request for your Master's name." he offers, then even smiles faintly, though it's not all together pleasant. "Additionally, if you wish to make up for the bother you think you've been, I will allow you to do me a favour. If you could do this favour for me, I would have nothing but praise for you to your Master, though I know not who it is. What do you say?" he asks, leaning down a little. Aww, see? Amon can be friendly.

Spigot looks up at Amon with tear-stained cheeks. His pensive eyes stare at the wizard as if he were considering his words. While this is going on, oddly all the many books and scrolls which were flying throughout the library are suspended in mid-air. "The young master wizard would speak kindly to Spigot's Master? Oh, oh! Happy day! The young Master is kind! What must Spigot do? Eat his thumbs? Tell Spigot, young master wizard!"

Amon should feel slimy for this, but really, who better to ask than a house elf? "Recently there was an incident in the Kitchens. Unbeknownst to the elves that work there, someone slipped a love potion into the breakfast food yesterday." Oh, how the elves must be in a flurry about that! "I would dearly like to know whom that son of a… erm. Whom the culprit was. If you could find out, from a painting or the other elves, just who was in the Kitchens — say, from after dinner two nights ago, straight through to just before breakfast yesterday — or, additionally, if any elf was given something to put in it themselves, then oh, goodness Spigot, you would be the finest house elf a man could ask for, and I would be happy to tell people how fortunate your master must be, to have such a clever one." he explains sweetly.

Spigot looks incredulously at Amon. "Some House-elves poisoned the students, they dids, I hear. Spigot was not one of them, young master wizard. Oh, do not blame poor Spigot! He just gets the Master's tea and books, and cleans up for the Master all nice and properly. Doesn't know nuffin' about love-potions in porridges, he does not, uh-huh." Taking hold of an edge of his tea-towel loincloth, the creature noisily blows his nose in the rag. A sticky, greenish ooze is left smeared across it.

Amon stares incredulously at Spigot, silent for a stretch. "I'm sorry, what?" he asks, then shakes his head. "House elves. Spigot, could you ever imagine yourself poisoning your master's porridge? No. Of course not. Because house elves — proper ones — are well behaved and loyal. … It's this whole 'salaried elves' movement, it's gotten everything confused." Amon mutters. "But no, I cannot believe they acted alone. Spigot, please find out the names of these elves responsible. Knuts to nickles someone made them do it."

"And the young wizard will speak nicely of Spigot to his Master?" asks Spigot in return. Oh, horrible woe to whomever crosses a House-elf! The miserable little creature wrings its hands together as it looks pensively at Amon.

Amon smiles wryly. "Yes, Spigot, though if I am not allowed to know his name, I'll have to investigate that myself, won't I? Otherwise, I shall simply have to guess." Oh, he doesn't think that it will be terribly hard; surely the other elves know.

"Yes, yes. Good, nice young master wizard! Always nice to Spigot! Not supposed to bother the students. Spigot does not bother the nice young master wizard! Spigot will find out! Spigot will find out!" Jumping up to his feet, the gnarled creature snaps its fingers and vanishes in a flash of magical energy. Unfortunately for Amon, and everyone else still in the Library, the dozens of books which were suspended in mid-air by his House-elf magic are no longer suspended: they start crashing down left and right, and several nearly right on top of Amon! Oh, no!

Amon lets out a yelp as they rain down over his head, lifting his hand to protect his scalp a little. He gives a lengthy, annoyed sigh as he glowers about himself, just daring someone to open their mouths and say something. He's ready and willing to hex, today. Before the librarian can even say a word, Amon lifts his hand to her and indicates, "I'll deal with it." No, not his house elf, but his favour, and…. CLONK! long after the others have made it, one smacks him again. That one must have been really high up!

Concequences played out in: Valentine's Dance

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