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

Chapter 10:4

Fred tried for months to remember what he'd been dreaming the moment he was woken in the middle of the night by half of the Quidditch team standing over his four-poster, black hoods draped over their heads. George swore he was dreaming about owning a joke shop that looked strikingly similar to the one they had visited that afternoon. He recalled it so well afterwards because of how happy the dream had made him. He was glad to have been smiling when he heard their faint whispers. It made the dread of what was to come less intense.

"Wake up, little Weasleys," one of them said in a hushed voice.

"We've come to officially induct you into the Gryffindor Quidditch team," said another.

"Get up!" The third voice was harsh and heated. A fourth voice was humming eerily.

Fred lifted the covers over his head and they were yanked back with a swift wand movement. He yelped as George desperately searched for their older brother's face. He was missing from the group.

"You aren't going to use a spell on us, are you?" Fred pleaded. "We'll come along quietly."

"Relax, firstie," said Wood. "No magic."

"B-but Charlie told us..." George attempted, his voice trembling. "He told us you were coming tomorrow night."

The team exchanged knowing glances. Shep Quarter raised an eyebrow. "He did, did he?"

"I knew we were right to leave him out of this," said Graham.

"Just for that, we are using magic," said Briers with a horrid little grin. He raised his wand.

Before the twins had a chance to holler out for help to Lee, Kenneth, or Benjamin, an incantation was uttered and their eyelids were lowering. They were asleep a moment later.

It was quite some time before they woke again. Only now they were outside, freezing in the cold blackness and bathed in moon glow. The wind was groaning, and they were being led barefoot up a steep slope that overlooked the twinkling lights of Hogsmeade. A double rail fence guarded them from the hazy hill in the distance. As they walked closer, the twins could see a crumbling house with boarded windows beyond the mist. It was being overtaken by a plot of dense, mossy undergrowth. A row of candles led the way from the pebbled path to the front door. Chills surged through them as they were ushered to an opening in the fence. None of the Gryffindors were speaking, and Oliver Wood was carrying a curiously stained burlap satchel.

"Where are we?" George asked in a tremor.

"The Shrieking Shack," said Quarter ominously, as they moved toward the house. "Across the whole of Britain, you'll never find a more haunted dwelling."

"At least they brought us someplace special. Eh, brother?" Fred noted, laughing uncomfortably. Something from the shadowed garden hissed at his feet and he raised a leg in fear. "Really? There's no need for that."

When they came to the porch, the twins could see a vertical crack crisscrossing down the front door, as if something horrible had once fought to escape without success. George was quivering. Fred was taking deep breaths.

"What now?" he asked.

"Now you go inside," said Simon Graham silkily. "And you don't come out until the morning."

"What?!"

"Not 'til morning?!"

Shep Quarter faced the boys, towering over them. "Hand over your wands."

"You cannot take our wands!" Fred implored.

"What'll we use to — you know — protect ourselves?" George sputtered.

Colum Briers handed each of them a dark wood Bludger bat in exchange for their wands. George's fluttered around in his hand when Briers grabbed it. He shoved them into his robe and stepped back.

"On the Quidditch pitch, that bat is the closest thing you'll have to a wand. Get used to holding on for dear life, because if you lose it...well, I don't have to tell you what'll happen."

When too much time had passed without anyone speaking, Fred searched the ruined garden for something less terrifying to take his attention. He wasn't ready to be left alone for the night.

"What's that, there?"

The group turned to see him pointing toward a field full of ghastly scarecrows on pikes, scattered unevenly throughout the yard.

"You can thank the townspeople of Hogsmeade for those," said Wood. "They cart a few up here every Halloween, dress 'em up in cloaks and robes with bundled straw wands. It's a tradition as old as the school itself, they say. Wards off evil spirits."

"What...you mean ghosts?" said George. "You're havin' a laugh."

"There's loads of ghosts at the castle. And we've got a ghoul at home," added Fred. "It'll take more than that to frighten us."

"No, you're wrong about that," said Briers seriously. "Those particular scarecrows have a purpose — to keep the poltergeists at bay. They aren't all silly like Peeves, you know."

The Keeper and Chasers of the Gryffindor Quidditch team moved their newest members into the house while the rest waited silently on the porch. When the twins swiveled back, with faces paler than the moon, the team revealed the final, lasting particulars about the Shrieking Shack.

"Be careful where you go in this house," said Briers cautiously.

"It's not haunted. It's alive," said Wood.

Graham was nodding unhurriedly. "It absorbs pain like a mop, and soaks up the suffering...the death...the dark wizardry that is still rumored about to this day."

"Keep in mind, the people of Hogsmeade are accustomed to hearing shrieks and moans coming from this house in the dead of night," said Shep Quarter. "So don't think anyone is coming to your rescue once you start screaming."

"If we start screaming, you mean," George corrected.

"Right," said Quarter, stony-faced.

"Can we start a fire or something...it's freezing in here," Fred asked with a shiver.

"Oh, we almost forgot your new Quidditch robes!" Oliver exclaimed. From the burlap bag, he pulled two massive robes, so vile smelling that they could see swaying vapors escaping in the moonlight. "I may have accidentally used them to clean a troll's bum in Care of Magical Creatures."

"Aww..." Fred staggered sideways as he glided an arm into the sticky sleeve.

"That's foul!" George complained, pinching his nose.

"Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch team," said Shep cheerily. He took hold of the doorknob. "We'll be back to unlock the door in the morning."

"Wait...!"

"You're locking us in?"