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

Chapter 28:2

Fred and George could have stayed behind a little longer. They had two hours before the Hogwarts Express departed for King's Cross Station. But they'd had enough excitement for one year, and had considered in their thoughts during breakfast that morning how nice it would be to return to their craggy, cave-like room behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. It had been weeks since they had checked in on their miniature Whomping Willow, with its portable sun and storm cloud that had yet to be returned to Professor Sprout's greenhouse. And, more importantly, they needed to say their goodbyes to the castle, which had been as much of a contribution to their first year as the classes themselves.

The boys stumbled through the portrait hole and watched fondly as the painted Fat Lady sealed her frame behind them. They would not be seeing the inside of Gryffindor Tower for three long months. The portrait seemed to understand how they were feeling, having witnessed so many students come and go each year, and yet she was looking gratefully down at them for a different reason.

In a low, almost inaudible voice, she said, "Thanks."

Before the boys had the opportunity to accept that all of the paintings in Hogwarts would be forever grateful to the Weasley twins for capturing their attacker, the Fat Lady whirled in place, her reaction changing immediately as something else caught her eye.

"Tell that one to stay away," she yapped over her shoulder. "I am sick and tired of him pestering me nearly every single day for the past four years, trying out passwords."

"Who are you talking about?" asked Fred, as they turned to see Victor Sparrow racing down the hall with something rather large in his grasp. It glimmered in the beam of sunlight that shone through the leaded corridor windows. When he spotted the twins, Victor skidded to a stop, changed directions, and rushed towards them.

"Be a dear — hold this for me, will you?" he breathed, casually handing them a spectacularly polished silver trophy.

"The House Cup!" Fred and George said in astonishment.

Victor nodded intensely, a wide grin on his face, as he bent to tie his shoelaces. He then rummaged through his pockets. A bag of Dungbombs went sprawling across the floor and he scrambled to pick them up, pulling the strings as he went and lobbing them back to the hall where he'd been running. Sparrow leapt to his feet, breathing heavily, but smiling.

"Nabbed it from the Slytherin common room — just now," he said sneakily. "That's them complaining. Oh my, there was a lot of them!"

"Are you mad? Get out of here!" Fred encouraged, as the Dungbombs detonated in rhythmic booms, filling the corridor with thick, murky green smoke.

"You need to go somewhere else — fast!" said George, handing him the cup.

Victor calmly took a step back and slid his hands into his pockets. "No, you should keep it, actually," he said, with an impressive grin. "I know when I've been bested. It belongs to you lot. The fun part's over anyway. Now...watch yourselves. They're coming."

With that, Victor Sparrow raced away, just as the Slytherins broke through the awful, abominable stench of the cloud, hacking in great coughs.

"See you never!" the boy hollered back.

The twins locked eyes, not knowing what to do, as Lee Jordan stepped around the portrait of the Fat Lady, having heard everything.

"Help!"

"The cloak," said Lee, rushing over.

And without a moment's thought, he took the cup from George and hid it behind their backs, while Fred tore through their schoolbag for Dumbledore's Invisibility Cloak. He tossed it over his head. Lee caught the translucent fabric and disappeared inside its folds, the House Cup held to his chest. The Slytherin horde advanced on them, separating the twins and scouring the shadows nearby.

"Where'd he go?" Montague demanded hotly, coughing into his fist.

"Who's that, now?" asked Fred innocently.

"Victor Sparrow!" yelled Marcus Flint.

"Oh, him? He went that way," said George truthfully, pointing to where Sparrow had escaped.

Half of the Slytherins sprinted off in that direction when Denorda Montague stepped out, her eyes bloodshot and her cruel face looking sickly from coughing out plumes of Dungbomb smoke.

"Stop! This corridor instead," she said, smirking at the twins.

Oscar Meaney shoved Fred aside, before he and the rest of the Slytherin students followed their Team Captain in the wrong direction. When enough time had passed, Lee crawled out from under the cloak and handed the trophy to the twins.

"That's what you get for telling the truth," said Fred, shaking his head at his brother.

The house-elves were next, streaming from the portrait hole beside a procession of floating school trunks. Lee followed them closely, to ensure that his made it out to the grounds without being tampered with, and the twins took that as their opportunity to vanish from sight.