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

Chapter 5:4

When the meal had ended, the boys were finally able to see Charlie in action as the tables were dismissed one at a time by a house prefect. "This way to Gryffindor Tower," he exclaimed, pointing to his prefect badge and motioning the students out of the Great Hall. "This way, if you will."

Although they were excited to tour the school, the twins stayed back to watch the staff table empty so they could measure just how tall Hagrid was in comparison, and were soon studying the many mechanics attached to Professor Kettleburn's limbs. When they turned back to look through the crowd of students for Charlie, they recognized someone from Ravenclaw House.

"Fred, look! It's the boy from the cafe windows at platform nine and three-quarters. The one with the fireworks."

"Victor Sparrow."

"Should we make his acquaintance?"

"Can't think of a reason not to, George."

With the Great Hall clearing and the Gryffindor students trickling away, the twins knew they had to move quickly so as not to be left stranded in such an immense castle. They snuck over to the Ravenclaw group, blended in with the first years, and tapped the boy on both his shoulders. Victor turned to greet them with mild mistrust on his long and villainous face.

"And what do you want?"

"Mister Sparrow, simply love your work, sir."

"Wondering if you have any pointers."

His lips curved in a scowl. "You are Percy Weasley's brothers. Hmm...I shouldn't be talking to you. After all, you're now the enemy. Splendid job convincing the hat to sort you together, though. And making the front page of the Daily Prophet. Cracking good, that."

The jovial manner of the twins deflated at his words. They had nearly forgotten about the disparaging article that would likely follow them for the rest of time.

"Listen, I don't deal with first years. And the Weasleys don't have any real coinage, everyone knows that. If it's crackers you want, you'll need to wait and ask a third year before the first trip to Hogsmeade."

"The village by the station?" asked George.

"Yeah, there's a joke shop on the High Street."

"What if we owe you?" Fred offered.

"Like a favor? Can't put a price on that." The Ravenclaw troublemaker mulled it over with a long stroke of the chin. "All right, you have a deal. But not fireworks. Too risky. Take these."

Victor Sparrow pulled a brown paper sack from the sleeve of his robe and passed it discreetly to Fred. Inside was a small bundle of powdery black nuggets.

"What are they?"

"Dungbombs," said Victor with a trace of devious glee. "Give yourselves time to get away after setting them off."

"Thanks!" said George.

"We owe you one," said Fred.

Victor nodded heavily. "Yes — you do."

With their older brothers blissfully unaware of the exchange they had made within minutes of leaving the Great Hall, the twins scurried to the front of the Gryffindor group, where they had to share space with Percy and some of Charlie's giddy female fans. And they were glad to have caught up, because the direction they were taking to their personal corner of the castle was a virtual labyrinth of hallways — some thin and twisting, some wide and lined with doors, and all intersected by alternate routes. The boys followed closely as they scaled a flight of stairs at the base of a towering hall filled with staircases, each leading to a different floor.