Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 14:1

Reaching the second floor landing, they approached what had once been four stunning works of magical portraiture and gazed in silent curiosity at the bare, yellow canvas.

"Look at the fools! They're staring at nothing," said a mellow voice from somewhere within the stairwell. They turned to search for the owner of the voice, one of them more than slightly insulted. "Oh, yes...and see how silly they look now," it mocked. "Who's making fun of me...? Whah whah...boo hooo!"

Dumbledore grinned as he quickly mounted the nearest staircase, following the lasting echo of their veiled criticizer. Dolores Umbridge adjusted the green velvet bow in her hair and exhaled her displeasure.

"Now, see here!" she declared, wheeling her large head round. "You will show yourself this instant or face the proper reprisal for your actions."

"Show yourself...show yourself...! I'm simply going to cry if you don't...boo hoo!" the voice exclaimed.

"Do not bother, Madam," Dumbledore said with a fixed laugh, as he continued to ascend the stairs. "You are speaking with one of our paintings."

"Well — what a lark!" said Umbridge malevolently, reaching for her wand. "Perhaps we're learning what really happened to your so-called irreplaceable paintings. They insulted the wrong person, and are about to suffer a similar fate."

"What...? How...? Who...? Boo hoo!" the painting continued with glee.

"I will not be ridiculed, I tell you!"

"You'll be hard pressed with a conk like that!"

"Dumbledore, do something about this profanity — or I shall!" she challenged, rapidly losing her composure.

"Do something, Dumbo! Please! Boo hoo!"

Dumbledore reached the small painting and studied it carefully. He recognized the scene, almost at once. Standing beside a fence, within a pastoral landscape, was a normally serene old wizard and his speckled white dog. Although Albus swiftly discovered that it had been altered dramatically from his last viewing. Perched awkwardly on the wizard's lined face was an oversized, unevenly painted pair of black framed glasses. He blew a wet raspberry at the headmaster.

"Put away your wand," Dumbledore said, gazing back at the irritated Ministry official. "As I have learned, in my many years at this castle, certain approaches are better than others when dealing with objects that have been given the properties of life. This painting, while discourteous, is posing no threat."

With his voice low, the headmaster gestured over his shoulder at Umbridge. "A bit weepy for such an oversized baby, don't you think?" The painting guffawed while the Undersecretary looked up with a pained expression. Dumbledore knew precisely what he was doing. He continued on. "You go right ahead and speak your mind, good sir. By the by, you old poop, who encouraged you to speak in such a delightfully preposterous manner?"

"Why — the Toilers of Trouble, my good fellow. They crafted these fine spectacles. In exchange, I was commanded to insult any passersby. I am but an echo of their good spirit."

"I see."

"I've been asking this lot for ages to assist me with my eyesight. The Toilers of Trouble sought me out on their own, just today, paint and brush at the ready. Indeed, I am in their debt."

Umbridge was suddenly at the edge of the golden frame, her expression ravenous. "Who were they exactly? Tell us. Now!"

"Ah-ah-ahhh — that would be quite a dishonorable act. I have said enough," he explained, bowing to the headmaster.

"Thank you kindly, you great fool," Dumbledore replied heartily, returning the gesture. "You are relieved from your oath of loyalty."

"Cheers, your dumbness!" The wizard in the painting giggled, as the trusted dog at his side stuck out its pink tongue at Umbridge.

The headmaster turned her away from the portrait wall. The Undersecretary was staunchly unamused. "What will be done of this, Professor Dumbledore? What right does that painting have? It should be unhung and left in a bin."

"It is of little concern."

"I think you have a few attention-seeking miscreants," said Umbridge deplorably.

Albus nodded, an eye on the spoiled painting. "I sense that this is but the beginning."