The War in the Willows

The Den’s common room was a hub of activity; the Misfits sprawled about, soaking in the relief of being back home. Neville muttered to himself, mixing potions with a flourish, as Morrigan looked on, befuddled.

Thomas, unusually chill, hummed a jaunty tune, quill scratching as he balanced the books. “Hmm, six…Seven… Mmm…”

Bramble looked up, a notice in hand. “Guys… It’s about Barry.”

The group fell silent, eyes on Bramble.

“Barry’s family paid a ransom. He’s… home,” she said, her tone measured.

The Misfits exchanged looks – relief mixed with a hint of “could’ve been better”.

Maverick nodded, leaning back. “Not ideal, but at least he’s safe.”

Morrigan perked up, a grin spreading. “Hey, that’s bloody brilliant!”

Neville looked up, a splash of purple potion on his cheek. “Hear that, Morrigan? Chemistry’s not that hard.”

Thomas kept humming, scribbling a note in the ledger. “Carry the four… divide by nine…”

The tension dissipated, replaced by the usual Den banter. Barry was home – that was what mattered.

Thomas looked up from the ledger, a mischievous glint in his eye. “One more,” he said, as if it were a done deal.

The Misfits exchanged confused looks.

“One more what, mate?” Neville asked, wiping purple potion off his hands.

“Member,” Thomas said, grinning. “We can fit one more in the gang. Funds are solid, we’ve got space, and I know just who it could be.”

Maverick raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “The Black Watch, I bet.”

Thomas nodded, enthusiastic. “Yeah! They’re tough, reliable –”

Maverick cut him off. “No hounds, Thomas. We don’t need a gang of Bloodhounds breathing down our necks.”

Thomas’s grin didn’t falter. “Ah, come on, Mav. One hound wouldn’t hurt. They’re loyal –”

Maverick shook his head. “Not up for debate. No hounds.”

Morrigan chimed in. “Hounds are cool, actually…”

Bramble leaned back, amused, as the argument unfolded.

Philippe grinned. “Ooh la la, ze solution, she is simple! We find a lady toad! Charming, clever… et voilà!”

Maximiliano chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no, amigo. I know a lovely Mexican Squirrel. Isabella’s her name. She’s got ze best taco in town.”

Rose piped up, eyes shining. “Ooh, tacos!”

William nodded emphatically. “And mice! We need mice in the gang. Squeaky, smart ones.”

Maverick shook his head, firm. “No mice. They get under your feet.”

The group started arguing again – toads vs squirrels vs… mice. Morrigan chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “This is gonna be fun.”

Bramble raised an eyebrow.

–

The Misfits dissolved into chaos as each member passionately argued their point. “Character’s everything!” Philippe exclaimed.

“Skills are key, amigo!” Maximiliano countered.

Maverick shook his head. “Heart matters –”

“No, no, experience is what counts!” Thomas insisted.

Morrigan and Neville watched, giggling like maniacs, as the argument escalated.

Meanwhile, Bramble and Rose slipped out, grinning at each other. “Boys, huh?” Bramble said.

Rose chuckled. “Archery range?”

The pair headed outside, bows in hand, as the shouting match continued inside. Morrigan and Neville collapsed into each other, snorting with laughter.

Neville wiped away tears. “This is gold.”

Morrigan grinned.

The arguing inside got louder…

____________________

The morning after the great debate, the Misfits stumbled into the Den’s common room, looking like they’d been through a blender. Thomas, ever the optimist, had taken matters into his own hands.

The wall was plastered with pictures of potential new members. Dudley from the Black Watch – a gigantic Bloodhound in full plate armour, shield and Halberd at the ready. Thomas’s grin said it all.

Next to Dudley were Ridley, Latimer, and Cranmer – three white mice, looking mischievous, with captions hastily scribbled across the poster, no doubt referring to the infamous incident with the farmer’s wife.

Isabella, the Mexican squirrel, smiled cheekily from the wall.

And finally, a blank piece of paper with “A Lady Toad” scrawled on it. Philippe looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Ze toad, eet ees a long shot, no?”

Maverick shook his head, exasperated. “Thomas, what’ve you done?”

Thomas beamed. “Narrowed it down, Mav! Now we just… argue some more!”

The group groaned, eyeing the candidates. Morrigan chuckled. “Dudley’s gonna crush us.”