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

Chapter 16:1

WITHERWINGS

"Oh, quit whingeing. The detention'll be over before you know it."

George measured the clouds above the Quidditch pitch, squinting as if he could will away the second snowfall.

"Just think," Fred continued brightly, "we can finally use magic to build snow castles."

"I'll pass, thanks."

Lee ambled toward them from the stampede of students who were rushing the stands. "Good luck on the rematch, boys."

"If you can call it that," said George.

"Regardless, I won't be cheering for Ravenclaw."

Fred stomped his foot dramatically. "Absolutely not, Mister Jordan!" he said, in his best impression of Professor McGonagall. "Impartiality is the commentator's foremost obligation! How often must we have this conversation?"

They had a good laugh despite George's malaise over the impending detention with Angelina Johnson, and then the twins were off to the changing rooms. Jacen Wu, the relief Beater, was waiting for them.

"Aww, don't tell me one of us is playing Chaser," moaned Fred.

"Sorry to disappoint," said Wu dryly. "I'll be the one standing in for Sheppers."

"No use risking more injuries," said Charlie, as he tucked his dragon tooth necklace into his uniform. "Quarter's on the mend, though. Should be in the stands."

"Just came from there," said Briers. "He's sitting behind the Magical Investigator. Would you believe that's Ian Parsimonae's father?"

"That does my head in," Charlie agreed.

Oliver Wood peeked past the changing room door, a spyglass to one eye. "The bloke in the top hat, right? He's chatting it up with Kettleburn."

"Got a lead on the Toilers, I reckon," Graham surmised.

Fred and George hid their faces as they each seized a tethered broomstick and followed the team out to the pitch.

Just like the discussion in the changing room, every Hogwarts student was spreading rumors about the finely dressed Magical Investigator who had arrived that morning. Many waited on the grounds to watch him approach in a horseless carriage, forming their own opinions on how effective he would be at rooting out the mischief-makers. But none were as interested in Parsimonae as the Weasley twins, who were keen to determine whether the man was friend or foe.

They traced his ink dot along the Marauder's Map all morning, and found that Lexington Parsimonae was eager to visit the portrait gallery. From what limited description the map could provide, he seemed to be querying the paintings. And yet, when the students gathered for lunch, and the twins rushed down to conduct a bit of reconnaissance from one of the moving staircases, it sounded more like an interrogation. Unfortunately, there hadn't been much to hear because the investigator was concealing his voice in a shrewd whisper. Ian, on the other hand, had not.

As the Quidditch game progressed that afternoon, and Ravenclaw held their ground, it was hard for the twins to think of anything other than the conversation they overheard between the box-jawed Magical Investigator and his Slytherin son. Mainly, it was the short exchange that took place before Ian rushed out of the stairwell.

"Perhaps I'll have a look for myself, shall I?" the boy had said, disappearing around the corner.

His father reached out to him, pleading, "It's too dangerous. We don't know..."

What were they looking for — and why was it too dangerous? the twins kept thinking, as the point spread widened between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.

The match was over quickly. When they weren't daydreaming about the eavesdropped conversation, Fred and George were hovering beside one another in order to review the many scenarios that could send them home. Unfortunately, they were too distracted to protect the team from the onrush of angry Bludgers, and they lost tremendously. But the twins couldn't take all the credit. Jacen Wu had a far more difficult time holding the Quaffle than he ever had with a Beater's bat. The bright red ball was stolen from him so often, that Ravenclaw amassed an insurmountable lead, making Charlie's task as Seeker redundant. Even if he managed to spot the Golden Snitch, Charlie had to look the other way so as not to signal Beauchamp. It wasn't the greatest upset in Hogwarts history, but it succeeded in dampening the illusion that Gryffindor would most assuredly trounce Slytherin in the Quidditch Cup.

Shep Quarter left the stands to great applause from the students of Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Although Charlie wouldn't hear it for a second, Quarter apologized endlessly for his injuries. It was common knowledge that Shep was Gryffindor's second strongest player and, as a result, he felt it was only right to take full responsibility for losing their lead, both on the Quidditch pitch and in house points. This was a relief to Fred and George, who had been ultimately responsible for Shep's injury by choosing to watch Quirrell's reaction instead of the Bludgers. Furthermore, they were relieved that the match had ended so swiftly, because they could finally share their thoughts without shouting.

"What should we do, George? If Dumbledore gets wind that we're the Toilers of Trouble, we'll be expelled for sure," said Fred uneasily, as the team dragged their brooms back to the equipment shed. "And it's not as if we can claim innocence now, is it? We put spectacles on one of them paintings — and rather sloppily, I might add."

"Whatever happens, we can't be blamed. I'm not being sent back to the Burrow."

"But what if..." Fred started, coming to a stop as the wheels seemed to turn in his head. "What if that's been their plan all along?"

"Crikey! Are you saying someone wants us expelled?" George replied dazedly.

Fred backed into the shadows and lowered his voice, as the others returned to the changing room. "Think about it, right? The ones responsible for setting us up waited until the perfect time to clear another painting."

"Until the Toilers of Trouble pulled another prank."

"Exactly. It can only be one of two explanations. Either they're not too keen about enchanted paintings and were waiting for an excuse to destroy a few —"

"— or they're looking to eject The Brothers Grinn from Hogwarts."

Fred's eyes tilted to the cottony clouds overhead. "Thing is...we won't be able to solve the mystery tonight." He turned to face his brother. "Someone I know has got detention."

"Go on. Have a laugh!" George brayed, expelling a frustrated breath as a flurry of white snowflakes drifted into his windswept, red hair.