Like Fire || Harry Potter

Chapter 4

George could feel the Dungbomb resting against his chest as Filch railed against them inside his office. He was pacing back and forth, his arms swinging in the air. Flecks of spit flew from his mouth.

All in all, he would've made a terrifying sight to any other first years. But Fred and George weren't "any other first years." In fact, the twins were struggling not to laugh.

While George's Dungbomb was itching to be set off, Fred was getting jumpy. They were in Argus Filch's office, where all the amazing stuff were. He was sure that, despite the caretaker's incompetence, there must have been at least one thing that was worth nicking...

"Weasley!" Filch finally yelled.

"Yeah?" the twins asked in chorus.

Filch snarled. "Listen to me while I'm talking!"

"Try trumpeting," George muttered, but Fred had elbowed him and said, "You heard him, George."

George shook his head. "He was obviously referring to you," he said.

"BOTH OF YOU," Filch shrieked. "I was talking about the both of you! Disregarding rules, ought to get expelled..." By the looks of it, he was starting all over again.

George searched the room for something ideal to hurl a Dungbomb at. Mrs. Norris was prowling the corridors, but something such as her food bowl...it lay nestled in a corner, waiting to be brought out and filled, over a shelf of drawers.

A very interesting shelf of drawers.

George sucked in his breath and poked Fred's knee. The drawer nearest to Mrs. Norris's food bowl was labeled Confiscated and Highly Dangerous. It was the sort of thing most people would keep away from.

But again, Fred and George weren't most people.

Fred folded his arms casually, giving Filch what looked like full attention—and Filch, noticing this, stopped in mid-sentence, disconcerted. "Weasley," he began—but George had moved.

The Dungbomb hit the ground and George followed after it. In a matter of seconds Filch's office was entirely engulfed in the horrid smoke, with George in the center retching.

"I'm dying!" he gasped, only slightly overreacting. "I'm dying!"

Filch's eyes bulged. "You're not dying!" he stammered, although he looked at least half convinced by George's gasps. "You can't die! How am I going to tell Dumbledore—"

Fred, meanwhile, had magicked the drawer open with an Alohomora and stuffed as much as he could grab into his robes. "We can't stay here," he cried, slamming the drawer shut. "We'll suffocate!"

"Get out!" shrieked Filch. "Get out, then!" And he dragged them out himself before dashing away in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

Fred looked at George.

George looked at Fred.

"What'd you get?" George asked after a moment.

Fred brought out a crumpled parcel and a seemingly empty piece of parchment. The twins kept their spoils close between them, making sure that they were subtle about it.

It was George who unwrapped the parcel. Inside were three identical pills. Raising his eyebrows, he glanced over at Fred, who'd unfolded the parchment.

"Blank," Fred pronounced.

George shook his head. "Filch wouldn't confiscate a blank paper," he said, covering the pills up once more.

"Maybe he was going to write something down and forgot."

"Forgot? That parchment has to be more'n ten years old," said George incredulously. "It's probably hiding some secret or another."

Fred laughed then. "Well, you know secrets are just facts you haven't learned yet."

"Hear hear." George tucked the parcel into his pocket, while Fred slipped the paper into his own. "Reckon we should try those pills when we get back?"

Fred nodded, and they walked in silence, both pondering the treasures they'd just won. Finally they reached the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Broom wax," Fred said. As he made to enter the hole, he glanced back at George, who had a peculiar expression on his face.

"What's up? What're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," George said, "that I need a bath."