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[HP] 83: Conning Hermes
🕑 Added 2025-08-06 15:55:00 +0000 UTCIf he failed this "test," he’d be absolutely screwed.
Hermes had already accepted reality before agreeing to answer Louis’s questions. Thankfully, Louis didn’t ask anything too difficult—just some alchemy-related knowledge.
Although the questions were obscure and somewhat eccentric, they still fell within the scope of alchemy. That was no challenge for Hermes.
After all, he was the father of alchemy—the one who brought the discipline to mankind.
As Louis asked questions, he observed this so-called “god.” A disembodied head, no matter how powerful, lacked any sense of majesty. Louis was simply curious—did gods actually exist in this world? And did Hermes realize he was just a statue?
The test concluded, and Hermes had answered everything smoothly—from speculative theories with no recorded answers to highly complex, technical alchemical questions. It really did seem like this head was indeed the real Hermes.
But now came the tricky part—how to rope him into being his teacher?
After a moment of thought, Louis asked, “Mr. Hermes, what are your plans now?”
“Plans? Shouldn’t you be giving me back my body first?” Hermes shot back.
“You jest, Mr. Hermes. I’m just an underage wizard—how could I possibly snatch away your body without a trace? And besides, I don’t eat people,” Louis replied calmly, while quietly instructing the Volumen Hydrargyrum to hide Hermes’s body away.
What nonsense. A normal wizard able to grab you while you were zipping away at lightning speed?
“If it wasn’t you, then where did my body go?” Hermes asked suspiciously.
Louis shrugged. “That’s how I found you—already like this, and only about this small. I’m not a giant, you know—my size is totally normal.”
“Could I have been cursed…?” Hermes began spinning his own theories.
“Possibly.” Louis watched his expression and asked, “So, Mr. Hermes, how’s your grasp of magic?”
“Naturally, it’s excellent. But why do you ask?” Hermes looked at him, puzzled.
“I’m a wizard who’s very curious about knowledge. And since you’re so knowledgeable, I’d like to learn from you,” Louis said sincerely.
“Learn from me?” Hermes hesitated. He seemed to mull it over for a long time, and Louis patiently waited without rushing him.
Finally, Hermes made up his mind and nodded. “Alright, I’ll agree. I suppose I don’t really have the right to refuse, do I? Ask me anything you want to learn, and I’ll share whatever I know.”
Louis didn’t smirk triumphantly at his plan’s success. Instead, he stared thoughtfully at Hermes’s floating head.
No system notification. The trick had failed.
“Mr. Hermes,” Louis asked calmly, “when did you realize I was lying?”
Hermes’s expression froze for a moment, then he said helplessly, “People lie so openly these days? Whatever happened to reading the room and playing along? A bit of polite fakery, is that too much to ask?”
“Well, my main job isn’t being a con artist—I'm a magician. A con artist can weave lie after lie even after being exposed, but a magician’s performance has to be perfect. We have to find the flaw ourselves, don’t we?”
Sitting on a chair woven from Volumen Hydrargyrum, Louis continued, “Still, I must say—worthy of being the guardian god of tricksters, Mr. Hermes. But I am curious. My lie was simple and didn’t give much away. Suspicious, sure—but not enough to see through. So how exactly did you see through it?”
Hermes gave a wry smile. “Well, your lie was different from the usual fancy, overly complex kind. Yours naturally makes people doubt, but then that self-doubt lulls them into letting their guard down.”
He spoke casually, completely unbothered by being exposed. “I have to admit—you’ve got talent. But like you said, I’m Hermes, guardian of tricksters. Every act of deceit draws my attention. Even though I’m weak right now, deception that’s both close and directed at me can’t escape my senses.”
“So that’s it? The so-called guardian of tricksters is actually the natural enemy of all con artists,” Louis mused.
Hermes shook his head. “I’m not that heartless. As a guardian, I don’t go around exposing every liar.”
Seeing Louis’s skeptical expression, Hermes quickly added, “You exposed yourself just now, okay? I was already pretending to be fooled—I was wondering how you saw me through!”
“Hmm… It was your body language,” Louis replied with a completely straight face.
Yeah right—he was just a floating head. What body language? Was Louis seeing phantom limbs or something?
Hermes’s face twitched. “Next time, don’t say something so obviously a lie. It just makes everyone uncomfortable.”
“And next time, don’t ask a question you know won’t get answered. That’s even more awkward.”
“So... can we be honest now? What exactly happened to me? How did I end up like this?” Hermes asked.
Louis thought for a moment, considering his wording carefully.
A Hermes who could see through lies wasn’t someone you could manipulate with cheap tricks. He’d have to take a different route.
“Let me put it this way,” Louis said slowly, “Your appearance was… unique. (I made you myself.) Not long after I got you, you were decapitated by some strange force. (The Volumen Hydrargyrum.) Then when I picked up your head, you woke up. (Thanks to the Rat Talisman.)”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“But it feels like you said a lot without saying anything,” Hermes said, scratching his head. “Where’s my body?”
“It got swallowed by that weird thing. (Totally hidden.)” Louis replied with utter conviction.
“And where’s that weird thing now?”
“(Part of it) is trapped by an evil entity (a Horcrux) inside a wicked lair (the cradle of Death Eaters—Slytherin dormitory). I can’t get it out right now. (The Horcrux can’t be touched yet.)”
“Sounds… kinda dangerous.” Hermes looked troubled.
He could tell Louis was being honest—but something still felt off.
“So, you really want to learn from me?” Hermes asked.
“Absolutely,” Louis nodded. That was the whole point of this elaborate effort.
“Alright, I’ll teach you. But in return, you have to promise me one thing,” Hermes said. “Help me get my body back.”
Louis agreed without hesitation. “No problem at all.”
After all, it was just a chunk of wood. Nothing he couldn’t hand over when the time came.
***
