"Please tell me this isn't a dream, George."
When the black curtains were pulled open, flickering light and shadows appeared before the twin brothers. The two, who had been smug with success at having broken into a mysterious investigator's office, suddenly froze!
They stared blankly at the wall, rubbing their eyes in disbelief, like a Muggle who scoffed at magic seeing a real spell for the first time, their expressions both absurd and comical.
"Sorry, brother—" George Weasley's mouth opened and closed weakly as he murmured softly. He blinked furiously, trying to comprehend the great invention he was seeing. "I can't give you any guarantees, but I think we've figured out how this Mr. Brain monitors all of Hogwarts from his office. I can only say, it's insane!"
"Yeah, it's insane—"
Fred's voice sounded as if he were possessed. He lowered his head and looked at the many words moving on the parchment in his hand, then turned his gaze to the various grid-like images, his breathing gradually growing heavy.
"Our map really can't compare to this thing, oh. But I still don't understand how he does all this!"
The twins took about ten minutes to barely pull themselves out of the endless shock. The first thing they did after regaining their senses was to throw themselves against the wall, wishing they could embed their eyes into it.
Because of excessive excitement, blood began to trickle again from George's nostrils, which had mostly stopped bleeding. But he completely disregarded his increasingly pale face and dizzy head, only focusing on analyzing with Fred how Mr. Brain transformed into this groundbreaking invention!
"—I'd bet Percy's Prefect badge on it, Fred, there must be some extremely advanced Transfiguration magic involved!"
George's eyes shimmered with reverence. He continuously poked the wall with his finger, his gaze sweeping across it.
"There should be an alchemical device that transmits images from various parts of the castle to this Transfigured wall, which then reconstructs them into understandable pictures—"
"And that's not all!"
Fred added loudly, "Look at the perspective of these images, George! He has at least hundreds of alchemical devices installed throughout the castle for monitoring! Damn it, what kind of thing could possibly possess such incredible capabilities?!"
The twins stood in front of the wall, discussing endlessly, analyzing the technical means this system might use. Finally, they reached a consensus: this monitoring equipment employed multidisciplinary magical knowledge, and that knowledge was extremely profound, beyond their current comprehension!
"Do you think, if we humbly asked him, he might teach us this trick?" Fred asked, his face full of hope. He stared at the screen, suddenly finding the map in his hand, which they both cherished, dull in comparison.
"There's a problem, brother—"
George clutched his nose, his face grim. "If Mr. Brain stays in his office, monitoring everyone's movements, does that mean—"
The twins exchanged glances, both realizing that their adventurous escapades of sneaking out of the common room late at night and wandering the castle last week were probably entirely witnessed by Mr. Brain.
"He didn't report us to Professor McGonagall... Perhaps, when we were out wandering, he happened to be asleep..." Fred's face didn't look good either. He couldn't even believe the possibility he was guessing.
No matter why Mr. Brain didn't expose them, now was not a good time to delve into that question. They hadn't forgotten that in about ten minutes, Amostas Brain would finish showering and return to this monitoring room. After pulling the curtains, Fred supported the dizzy George to the door. When his hand touched the doorknob and turned it, his expression turned sorrowful.
"There's a very interesting piece of information, George, and I can't wait to share it with you!"
"I'm also very eager to know that interesting piece of information, Fred," George said, supporting his forehead and squinting. "But I'd prefer you wait until I'm lying in Madam Pomfrey's infirmary before sharing it, Fred!"
"I'm afraid there won't be time for that—"
Fred forcefully twisted the doorknob again, but the result was as he expected: the bronze doorknob remained motionless. "I think we've been ambushed."
A silent stillness quietly descended. Fred and George exchanged awkward glances, both seeing a strange foolishness flickering in each other's eyes.
The school board entrusted a crucial mission to a supposedly experienced wizard to track down the dangerous Chamber of Secrets opener. How could such a wizard be careless enough to leave this extremely important monitoring room undefended?
Ten seconds later, the self-rescue operation began!
George released Fred's support. The two, three feet apart, simultaneously drew their wands and aimed them at the doorknob. After resolutely looking at each other, they simultaneously muttered,
"Confringo!"
A shimmering ripple like water undulated across the round doorknob, then returned to stillness, without any change.
"Damn it, that cunning fellow!" Fred cursed, gritting his teeth. "He already planned to catch any young wizard who broke into his office, didn't he!"
Fred and George, unwilling to give up, tried several more times, but it was useless. All spells were blocked by the powerful defensive charm placed on the door. Fred anxiously glanced at the parchment in his hand and directly chose the most primitive method—forcefully prying at it, hoping to open the tightly shut door.
"Don't do anything stupid, Fred!" George looked around, quickly spotting the window on the wall closest to the Forbidden Forest. "Come help, brother, maybe we can escape through here!"
"Are you crazy, George?" Fred said, his eyes wide with surprise. "This is the third floor. I'd rather be caught by the investigator and handed over to Professor McGonagall than jump down and break my neck!"
Although he said this, Fred still trotted along behind George to the window.
However, after another flurry of clumsy efforts, the two collapsed to the ground, utterly defeated.
"Can you believe it, George?" Fred frantically scratched his hair, looking utterly distraught. "Who in their right mind would put a protective charm on a window?!"
Amostas, his hair still damp, walked out of the Prefects' Bathroom. He seemed to be in a good mood. As he passed the dunderhead Polis statue, he even hummed a tuneless little song.
To be honest, he somewhat regretted not asking Professor Snape to make him a Prefect when he was a student. Becoming a Prefect indeed came with privileges that ordinary young wizards couldn't enjoy. Not to mention anything else, the bathroom he had been using all this time, with its luxurious white marble floor as large as a swimming pool, was enough to make anyone envious!
The only downside was that the painting of the sleeping mermaid on the wall always liked to secretly open its eyes and stare at his eight well-defined abs when he was meditating, which made Amostas feel a little embarrassed.
Two minutes before the young wizards' class was about to end, Amostas leisurely walked from the sixth floor down to the third floor. Finally, he pulled out his wand from his sleeve, stood smiling at his office door, and said in an incredibly light voice,
"Then, let me reveal the mysterious identity of the one who committed the crime!"
Why haven't I even gotten a trial recommendation yet? I'm unhappy--
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