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

Chapter 5:1

HOW INTERESTING

Fred and George Weasley had very little time to read the article in the Daily Prophet. The Hogwarts Express had pulled into the station and the compartments were emptying. The twins were so consumed by the headline, seeing their names in a swimming, enchanted typeface, that they hadn't said goodbye to their new friends. They hadn't even dressed in their school robes by the time the speedy house-elves came to collect Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan's trunks. Nothing could pull the boys away from the words on the cover of the widely-read newspaper.

The story, as they soon discovered, detailed their very public birth, and the overwhelming outcry for a retraction about their unique arrival as 'The Boy Who Was Twins'. It was not a surprise to Fred and George that they were known by most of the wizarding world, since they were often recognized by their red hair. The surprise was in learning that they were generally detested for pretending to be the answer to some ridiculous prophecies. According to the article, they were considered by most of the magical community to be an April Fool's Day gag. This was confirmed by Dolores Umbridge, a familiar Ministry official, who warned of the dangers to come if the Weasley twins were permitted to learn magic. Umbridge and others judged the administration of Hogwarts harshly for this 'absurd decision'. Following her evaluation, there was a stirring quote from Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard in existence and the headmaster of their school. His reassuring words repeated in their heads as the twins crept over to the throng of first years wandering the platform.

"I've always held that absurdity is a virtuous trait. Surely, pure-bloods have the right to a proper education, regardless of performing accidental magic as children. Hogwarts will never penalize those in want of instruction by denying it to them. Being born as one child is not a crime, as of now, and they may work just fine apart from one another. As it so happens, I once transfigured a rabbit into a pair of furry slippers. I still wear them on occasion when the castle gets chilly — though they do squeak a bit...and I swear I found a half-eaten carrot at the foot of my bed last winter. Ah, well. I'm certain it will be less enjoyable to watch Fred and George Weasley eating at the start of term banquet, but I assure you they will be in attendance. Those two were only getting started early, and who among us could fault them for not being aware of the rules straight away?"

It was hard for the twins to believe that the most famous wizard in Britain not only knew them by name, but was defending them to the Daily Prophet. The thought had the boys stunned enough to miss the breathy conversations that followed them along the platform.

When a booming voice called out for the first years to join together, the twins awoke from their shared stupor. Hidden among much taller students, they heard the chirping giggles of a few older girls and then spotted Charlie exiting the train from the next car. The girls smiled, but he looked past them, searching for his brothers. Even from across the smoky platform, Charlie could tell by their dazed expressions that the twins had seen the newspaper. In fact, they had never looked so docile. Rather than mentioning the article, he pointed to the giant man on their right.

"See that bloke over there, the large fella with the lantern? Name's Hagrid. He's very friendly. He'll take you to the castle."

"Wait, Charlie," said George.

"Why can't we just go with you?" asked Fred, his voice uncharacteristically frail.

"You'll see."

With a sharp grin, Charlie gripped them both by the shoulder and left the walkway to join the other wizards who were drifting unaccompanied into the brisk night wind. Fred and George chose to avoid eye contact with any of the students, even Cedric Diggory, and turned to face the mountainous man standing high at the edge of the platform.

With a thundering voice, he roared, "Firs' years! All firs' year students'll follow me, please. All firs' year students over 'ere."

The lantern that swung in front of the man looked tiny in his meaty grip. Against the dark sky, he was more imposing than a dragon in a lightless cave. And yet his black eyes were soft, and there was a gentle smile hidden beneath his coarse, dark beard.

"My name is Rubeus Hagrid. Yeh can call me Hagrid. I'm the Keeper of Keys an' Grounds 'ere at Hogwarts," the giant man bellowed, as the group herded together. "Right, then. We'll be takin' a different route than the rest o' yer fellow students. This way." With a waddle, Hagrid led them down a hill where dozens of small boats were resting a short distance away on a misty and gentle lake. "Groups o' four. Eyes on the loose rocks, now...trus' me. And mind the water. There's a great ugly squid lurkin' down there, an' I don' wanna lose one o' yeh before the term starts. If yer frightened, yeh can join me in my boat." He looked away, somewhat embarrassed. "'Tis a bit larger."

The group of young witches and wizards were quiet as they followed close behind the gargantuan man in the beaver skin coat. The winding path from the station was surrounded by foreboding trees and was perilously slippery in the darkness. When they reached a clearing near the dock, Hagrid raised the lantern and pointed off into the gloom.

"An' if yeh look hard 'nough, yeh'll be able ter see yer new home," said Hagrid in a throaty voice.

Fred and George gazed out past the glossy black lake at the castle in the distance, lit by the milky glow of the full moon. Its many turrets and high walls seemed cut from the stone of the shadowed black mountainside. Much like Hagrid, the castle was grand, comforting, and intimidating, and the young crowd released a collective breath of finality. They had made it to the place that most children only heard about in stories.

"There yeh are, firs' years. Welcome ter Hogwarts."