*★* WATTPAD FRIENDS AND FAMILY, WATTPAD FEATURED STORY & 2017 WATTYS WINNER!! *★* Preceded by rumors of their prophetic birth, pure-blood twins, Fred and George Weasley, follow in the footsteps of their three older brothers by attending a school for...
When she left them to reprimand Morvin Ashbury for writing on the wrong side of his scroll, McGonagall stopped at the suit of armor and, looking suddenly apprehensive, repositioned its arms. And as the Gryffindor table moved on to their assignment, Fred and George were distracted by the sight of Professor Parsimonae entering the library below. The investigator looked round, as if making sure his presence was known, before approaching the main desk and starting a conversation with Madam Pince.
"What I wouldn't give to hear what he's saying..." Fred whispered.
"Why is that?" asked Angelina.
"We've got our suspicions, is all," said George mildly. "He may not be at Hogwarts for the right reasons."
"Well, sitting around here isn't going to help anything, is it?" said Angelina decidedly. A moment later she was descending the staircase to wait in line behind him. When Parsimonae noticed her standing there, he stepped aside with a bow and left the library. Angelina shared a few words with Madam Pince and returned seconds later.
"So?" Lee asked, before she could sit. "What was he saying?"
"There's nothing nefarious going on. You seem to forget that he's here to solve a mystery."
"Right, but what did he actually say?" Fred begged.
"Professor Parsimonae wanted to see a record of all the paintings at the castle. Clearly because of those that were ruined."
The urge that George would have normally felt in that moment to snap at Angelina with an impolite remark was no longer present. But even if it had been, George wouldn't have had time to start a confrontation, because the suit of armor beside their table suddenly came to life, raising its heavy legs and kicking at them.
"Watch it!" George yelled, as the table emptied.
The suit of armor clomped forward, scraping and clanging, swinging its polished steel arms this way and that. It moaned out the names of its soon-to-be victims in a cold, hollow voice. Each of the Transfiguration students reached for their wands, but it was Professor McGonagall who came forward, unafraid.
In fact, she was grinning.
"I just knew there was something different about you. Come here this instant!" She aimed her wand at the hulking metal beast and snapped it to the right. "Lymordio Armor!"
Both of its heels lifted from the ground, as the armor was wrenched forward. McGonagall dropped her wand swiftly and it crashed to a stop, its limbs locked into place. Then, with her eyes tapering to slits, she tore the helmet free. Everyone in the library groaned. There, poking out of the armor as if it were a turtle shell, was the round face of Marcus Flint wearing a goofy smirk, his dark and disheveled hair more unkempt than ever.
"Mister Flint!" she yelped, facing their attacker. "I am outraged!"
He leaned back, laughing like a buffoon.
"Ten points will be taken from Slytherin House for disturbing my class, and another ten for misusing school property."
Marcus curled his top lip and carried on chuckling stupidly.
Wearing an enraged expression, McGonagall thrust the helmet back onto his head with a CLONK. "I will now be accompanying you to Mr. Filch's office, where you will begin serving out a very grueling detention."
"Boo!" Flint woofed, turning to face Meurial Baxter, who had nearly fainted.
Reaching her limits, Professor McGonagall swooped her wand across the room. The suit of armor instantly responded by marching Flint clumsily through the aisle of desks and down the stairs.
"First years, you must remain in the library until hour's end. Complete your scrollwork. I may return...I may not. However, if I learn that any of you have dismissed yourselves, be assured that you will follow in Mister Flint's footsteps! Quite literally!" she declared, as they heard the armor straining from the corridor below.
Everything was silent and serious until Professor McGonagall was out of eyesight. Then the library was inundated with laughter and jeers, for perhaps the first time in history. Madam Pince practically lost her voice by shushing them all for the remainder of the class period.
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