"Hey, brothers, did you hear that commotion? Someone holding a concert?" Fred asked teasingly.
Naturally, the next person to crawl out of the one-eyed witch's hump was the other twin—George Weasley.
"Whew—you're hearing things, Fred."
George was also lugging a package. He hopped off the statue's base, panting as he cocked his head to listen. "In my opinion, it's gotta be the Fat Lady getting drunk in Violet's portrait again. She's singing, and it sounds even worse than usual!"
"Doesn't matter who's singing," came the voice of the last person to drag a package out of the tunnel—Lee Jordan, the twins' mutual friend, sporting his signature dreadlocks. "As long as it's not Filch."
Lee said, tugging and pulling to get his package free from the stone statue.
"Don't worry, Lee. Filch is no threat to us," George said warmly. "We have plenty of ways to deal with him—ah, of course, just like Professor Delfino's fantastic 'Protect the Captain' game, we just need a little assistance from some tools."
"Selfless help from Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail—"
Fred dropped his package and rummaged through his pocket, grinning. "Speaking of 'Protect the Captain'... that game has really killed my interest in Quidditch lately. Wood keeps saying I'm 'slacking off'."
"Ignore him, Fred. He's so obsessed with that game he's practically losing his mind over it... Come on, check where Filch is."
What Fred pulled from his pocket was a piece of worn parchment.
George and Lee immediately crowded around, watching as Fred unfolded the parchment and tapped it with his wand—
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
In an instant, thin lines of ink began to spread like a spiderweb from the tip of Fred's wand, crisscrossing and expanding until they covered the entire parchment.
Lee shifted his position to let the moonlight fall onto the map.
Fred searched the paper with his wand. "Nearby... nearby... Ah, congrats to us, no one's around here—Professor Snape is patrolling the fifth floor... let me check for Filch and his stupid cat... they're on the third floor!"
"You know what I found? Something interesting." George squinted at the map, a playful... appreciative smile curling his lips.
"What?"
"What is it?"
Facing their questions, George kept his eyes glued to the map. He raised a hand and pointed a fingertip at a specific spot.
Fred and Lee looked over immediately. One glance... and smiles broke out on their faces.
On the other end of the fourth-floor corridor, several names were moving rapidly. They were, without a doubt—
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom!
"Want to know how I'm feeling right now, Fred?" George sniffed, putting on a fake, overly emotional expression.
"I get it," Fred said, mirroring his face. "Passing the torch... I'll tell you, I was always worried our dear little Ronnie would follow in Prefect Percy's footsteps."
"Yeah, yeah—if our family produced another Percy..." George shuddered theatrically. "I don't think the house would be big enough... I'd probably have to run away from home, brother."
"Oh, give it a rest, you two," Lee said. He stared at the parchment, frowning slightly. "I don't know if you noticed, but they just ran out of the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."
A moment of silence—
"Ooh~"
"NICE~"
Fred and George exchanged meaningful looks.
"Outstanding young men!" said Fred.
"Excellent young men!" said George.
"Admirable spirit of adventure and rebellion!" said Fred.
"The student has surpassed the master!"
"You know what I'm thinking, Fred?"
"Don't tell me, George, I don't want to hear it."
"But you definitely agree with me, right, Fred?"
"That's a given, George. How can we let these rookies steal the spotlight?"
"I don't want to know what you two are plotting," Lee rolled his eyes, his voice muffled. "I dragged this heavy stuff all this way tonight and I'm exhausted. I just want to go back to sleep."
"Either you come with us!" Fred beamed at Lee.
"Or the friendship is over!" George added, beaming just as brightly.
Lee Jordan looked 'despairing,' but didn't argue. He looked like he had accepted his fate.
The three young wizards dragged their packages, guided by the moonlight and the map, past the Trophy Room, to the fourth-floor landing, and stood before a door.
Behind this door lay the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor.
"I don't get it. Since Dumbledore forbade students from entering this corridor, why didn't he lock the door?" Fred asked, easily pulling open the unlocked wooden door.
"You can't take everything Dumbledore says literally. Sometimes he likes to play cute little jokes," George said as he followed him in, sizing up the dusty corridor.
It wasn't much different from the corridor on the left side of the staircase—silent rooms, looking like they hadn't been used in ages.
Thick dust, likely accumulated over centuries, covered the floor. Because someone had just been here, footsteps had kicked the dust into the air, muddying the clear moonlight.
The boys who broke in all looked disappointed.
"Cough—doesn't look like anything interesting here." Fred coughed, choked by the floating dust.
"Don't jump to conclusions, Fred," George said, grabbing the parchment. "Let's see what the four noble gentlemen have to say... Ah, there it is!"
His finger pointed to a spot on the map, drawing Fred and Lee's gaze. His finger moved slowly up, finally pointing to the very end of the corridor.
"I think a gentleman named 'Fluffy' has already prepared tea and snacks and is waiting for our visit!"
"In that case, what are we waiting for?" Fred said cheerfully.
The three young wizards tiptoed down the corridor and stood before the door at the very end.
The door was closed, but the latch had been pulled back... no need to guess who did that.
"My god, I never imagined anyone could snore that loudly," Lee Jordan clicked his tongue in front of the door.
"Since we've decided to meet this Mr. 'Fluffy,' and we can foresee that we'll be disturbing his sleep—" Fred cleared his throat, adopting a gentlemanly posture. "We must be dashing and polite when we enter, agreed?"
"Couldn't agree more... shall we push together?" George grinned.
The three boys stood in front of the door. George whispered the countdown: "Three... two... one... push!"
"Greetings, Mr. Fluffy, we are... AHHH!!!"
"AHHH—!!!!" (From Fred Weasley)
"AHHH—!!!!" (From Lee Jordan)
ROAR!!!
After an earth-shattering roar, three terrifying heads crowded forward. A black claw, larger than a troll's body, whipped up a violent gale and slammed heavily down toward the three young wizards!
In the next second, they were going to die on the spot!
TWANG!!!
It sounded like dozens of taut bowstrings snapping at once. Following the terrifying whistling sound, two brilliant, sharp golden sparks flashed on the highly polished crystal display cabinet!
A thick cloak slowly drifted down from mid-air... but the owner of the cloak was no longer there.
....