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

Chapter 19:8

After another grueling, late-night Quidditch practice, the twins returned to Gryffindor Tower to find that Lee had brought their tiny Venus plant down to the common room, where everyone gathered to watch it gnaw through a scroll of returned Charms homework, like a dog through a mutton bone. Angelina Johnson sat nearest, looking green with envy. The third years, having just covered that category of magical plant in Herbology, were captivated as they tracked every last crunch and gulp. The most common questions had to do with how its pot was capable of containing all that it consumed, and who could have been foolish enough to entrust such a rare species to the Weasley twins. Fred and George were too exhausted to address each question. Slumped into the armchairs beside the fire, they did their best to respond through a dialogue of nods, shrugs, and grunts — and by somehow blaming any negatives on Percy.

When the spectacle of the Venus plant wore off, and everyone climbed the stairs to their dormitories, the twins stayed behind so they could view the Marauder's Map in private. Fred and George inspected the parchment for irregularities and clues to the whereabouts of a treasure, but were having no luck.

"What we need is that monocle the Professtigator used at the Hogs Head. He saw something here that we can't detect without magic," said Fred inwardly, rolling onto his back to see if the light from the fire could reveal a pattern in the inky architecture.

"Why not ask the Marauders? They should know what to look for," George suggested, bleary-eyed.

Fred tapped the parchment with his wand, speaking composedly, "Is there a treasure at the school?"

There was no response. He waited for a moment or two before losing patience.

"Tell me where to find the treasure," he demanded, drumming the map forcefully.

Still, there was no reply.

"I wish they'd tell us how to switch it off," said George flatly.

Fred somersaulted to his knees. "Something's happening!"

George flopped down to the rug. Olive-green ink was seeping out in tendrils from within the expanse of the Great Hall. It curled and lassoed onto itself, toying with the surrounding sketches.

"What'd ya do?"

"Nothing."

"You did something, Fred."

"Blimey, George, they're going to tell us where to find the treasure!"

When the writing was fully formed, their expressions shifted from elated anticipation to sour disappointment.

"Mister Mooney would like to inform Misters Fred and George Weasley that the name of the witch they had been following on the night of the incident has returned to the Marauder's Map."

"Does that mean —?" Fred began, his voice trembling, as George frantically scanned the parchment. "There! Fourth floor corridor."

"Aruzula Darc," George breathed, reading the name as his brother touched the tip of his wand to the ink dot. A bubble of text materialized, explaining that she was admiring the paintings.

"This has to be her, doesn't it?"

"The four Marauders. They helped us," said George, looking startled, as Mooney's words retracted. "What should we do?"

Fred got to his feet. "We need to see what she's up to before she gets away."

"You really think that confronting her again is the best plan? What if she buries us in sand this time? Or worse."

"We'll keep our distance, naturally."

"Sometimes you don't have a clue what I'm thinking," George griped, as he followed after his brother toward the portrait hole. "Wait, shouldn't we just take this to Dumbledore?"