Kiba huffed as he stepped up the last stair to the owlery with Dessa following close behind him. He adjusted the heavy bag of body-swap potion in his arms as he backed into the door, pushing it open with his back. On their way to the owlery, they still hadn't thought of a way to distribute the potion, but Kiba had his own ideas. "I reckon we just tip the potion all over the birds and then send them into the Great Hall with the powder on their wings. As they flap, it all comes raining down. Also, I don't think the bloody things can carry this huge bag."

Backing into the owlery, Kiba set the bag down and stretched his arms with a satisfied yawn. "I'm pretty sure that won't be the best way to get the job done, but I haven't seen you come up with any bright ideas." He turned to Dessa who was holding a second bag of the potion and crossed his arms with a smile on his face.

Dessa raised her eyebrows at Kiba's cocky smirk and hoisted the bag further into her arms. "Well I guess my better idea would be definitely not your idea. We don't know how the potion would affect the owls, and it would be all over them if we did that. We can't have a whole bunch of switched up owls, can we?"

Sliding down the wall, careful to avoid the various heapings of straw and bird excrement, Dessa took a seat on the cold stone floor.  "I still don't get why we can't just sneak down to the kitchens and get the house elves to put it in the food. Who would know? It's not like they'd tell, they live to make us happy."

(OOC - I figure maybe our third accomplice should suggest the vials, so that he's really and truly involved.)

“That’s ‘cos tha’d be tamperin’, Share,” came Connor’s voice, as a foot interjected itself in the doorway before the door fully closed. With a noisy hup of effort, the boy nudged it open again with his knee; he came in arms full of his own bag, which—strangely enough—tinkled quietly at the slightest jostling movement. “Elves aren’t s’posed t’ fu- uh, do weird stuff wiv our food,” he explained as he surreptitiously kept an eye on the floor, half-preoccupied with avoiding the guano as much as he was with not breaking whatever he was carrying. The last thing any of ‘em needed was him scurrying to breakfast with telling birdshite on his bum. “Even if they liked ya, they’re even more tight-arsed than Harcroft.”

By almost basic, personal principle, house elves were a mystery to the boy, who notoriously chafed under blatant authority; he himself never did anything without being a silly git about it, only assuming their manner when he was sarcastic. Asking them to do things for him came naturally to him, yeah, but that was about the same for him as breathing—not out of upbringing, but by sheer force of personality, the kind that left chaos in its wake and sucked in innocent bystanders.

Out of curiosity, he’d asked one or two questions about them before cornering one personally. What he’d gleaned was enough to clear up a few things, but hadn’t sat well with him at all. As a result—if it wasn’t food-related—he avoided them since then.

“That’s why… I got these!”

With a flourish he flipped open the bag, dipping a hand in and pulling out something small, delicate, and made of glass: a tiny, tiny vial. Up close, one could see it was about two inches tall and not nearly a fraction thick—something that’d shatter from a drop pretty damn easily. “Got em’ off my sister fer a couple o’ Galleons,” he explained to them, holding it out for them to see—or take, if they wanted. “Th’ little weirdo’s got a ton of ‘em. Anyways, best thing about these things is tha’ even though they break like normal glass, th’ bits turn into dust or sommat right off th’ bat. No one could trace it—” the prank, that is, “—back t’ us!”

Disregarding the fact that he hadn’t thought of the repercussions of using vials until Caitlinn—his sister—had mentioned it, he was an effin’ genius.

From Kiba to Dessa and back, he looked at them, grinning a banana-splitting grin. “Whadd’ya guys think?”

Putting the potion in everyones food would be tricky. Sure, they could just tell the house elves to chuck it in a batch of pumpkin juice, but it wouldn't be simultaneous and they wanted everyone to swap at the same time, Kiba wanted chaos to break out in the Great Hall. Also, they couldn't run the risk of the elves dobbing them in, even if they are there to make them happy. They would probably be ordered to tell who did it if someone of higher authority asked them. Nope, asking the house elves was way out of the question.

As someone entered the owlery after them, Kiba jumped slightly and an excuse was already formed on his tongue. It was almost an innate reaction from him, it got him out of trouble... most of the time. But, there was no need for the excuse as Connor, who Kiba knew was no goody-two-shoes, approahced them holding a bag of his own. As Connor revealed the tiny vials and explained how they would work, curiousity got the better of him and Kiba grabbed the vial from Connor's hand. He studied it closely, feeling the almost non-existent weight in his hand. "You're saying that when these things break, they turn to dust, never to be seen again?" A smile crept onto Kiba's face as he realised that this was the answer to their prayers. The vials would leave no trace and would secure the success of their 'mission'. Buuut, just to be sure, Kiba held the vial at arms length and let it fall from his fingertips.

The vial hit the ground and broke with a tinkling sound. The once solid glass was now nothing more than a pile of dust. It had worked, excellent. Turning to Connor, he clapped him on the back, smiling widely. "I like the way you think, Todd. Got enough of those to hold this much potion?"