Professor Merlin Emrys

A Giant Problem

Harry sighed as Ron missed the quaffle, earning Ravenclaw another goal. Ron's newfound confidence since Fred and George's spectacular exit from Hogwarts seemed to be for not. It sadly did not make him a better quidditch player and Harry winced as the Slytherin's continued singing "Weasley is our King" and laughing as the other Gryffindor's groaned.

Speaking of the twin troublemakers, Harry grinned as he remembered how they had given him a distraction to speak to Sirius about what he saw his father do in Snape's memory. The conversation didn't reassure him much but they did say something similar to Merlin and he would have to live with this new knowledge about his father. He had gotten finished just in time too, as Filch had entered looking for some paper for Umbridge. He had seen the end result of the Weasley distraction and hoped they would not get into too much trouble.

It was just like the night when Trelawney had been sacked. Students, teachers, and ghosts were standing all around the walls in a great ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in a substance that looked very like Stinksap). Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down upon Fred and George, who stood in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

"So!" said Umbridge triumphantly, whom Harry realized was standing just a few stairs in front of him, once more looking down upon her prey. "So...you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking back up at her without the slightest sign of fear. Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness.

"I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely, waving the piece of parchment Harry had just seen him take from her desk. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting. . . . Oh, let me do it now. . . ."

"Very good, Argus," she said. "You two," she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, "are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are." He turned to his twin.

"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.

"Definitely," said George. And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together,

"Accio Brooms!"

Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left he ducked just in time — Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own. Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.