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

Chapter 20:11

It was harder for the Weasley twins to tiptoe past Mr. Filch and enter the Runes classroom than it was to sneak into the Great Hall, but not by much. The door was partially open so Filch could stare in astonishment at the investigator who, at the moment, was brandishing what looked to be a tire iron, half-wrapped in a length of dead ivy. He lashed it vigorously at Peeves, who simply couldn't stop cackling.

"I banish you from this castle, foul spirit! Leave us!" cried Parsimonae. "Go forth, now, to that next realm, where lifeless beings hold sway!"

Professor Kettleburn groaned wretchedly. He pawed at his steel and copper patched chest until he found a dull brass switch. He flicked it down and, when he spoke, his guttural voice turned deep and threatening.

"Be gone, Peeves..."

The poltergeist gawked with uncertainty at the ceiling, blew a raspberry in Lexington Parsimonae's direction, and careened through the floor just below the stool at the center of the room where Victor Sparrow was seated.

"Could it be possible that he's something other than a Poltergeist? These methods are indisputable."

"I've told you a hundred times," Kettleburn continued, his voice gradually winding back to its gravelly resonance. "Don't pay the ghosts any mind."

Hardly listening, Parsimonae glided toward Sparrow and dragged the strand of ivy in a pattern over the stone floor. Then, when he thought it was sufficient to do so, he backed away nervously. The twins used this as an opportunity to edge deeper into the classroom, and closer to Victor.

"Well done, Tonks."

"Thanks, Professor Kettleburn."

"Heard you met Alastor Moody, and that you're thinking about becoming an Auror. Be warned, though. From what I've seen, the Toilers of Trouble have nothing on real dark wizards."

"Dark beasts, you mean," she remarked, referencing his area of study.

"Oh, no," said Kettleburn darkly. "I've confronted evil the likes of which you could never imagine. Evil that would keep anyone awake for half a lifetime."

"I think you can all calm yourselves. It's not the rebirth of Grindelwald over here," said Victor despondently. "I only swiped some kit from the castle that no one was even using."

"Quiet down, Sparrow," Kettleburn continued. "You're facing expulsion. You don't want me encouraging the naysayers, right?"

"I had nothing to do with those pranks — or the paintings! This is absurd!"

"You're absurd," snapped Tonks.

Victor craned his head back in amusement. "At least people enjoy being in my presence. You can't get on with anyone. That's why you weren't made prefect. Everyone knows it."

Tonks snarled and spun away from him, overcome by a sudden need to study the runic stones above the doorway.

Fred and George knew this was their chance. They hastened to Sparrow and revealed themselves through an opening in the cloak. Victor nearly tumbled over at their sudden appearance, but then he noticed tufts of fiery red hair in the narrow slit of shadowed space and shook his head.

"The Weasley twins. Why am I not surprised? It was you, wasn't it?"

"No, not the thefts, and that," George defended in a low voice.

"Yes to the other stuff, though" Fred breathed.

"But not the paintings bit!"

"Shh!" Victor looked past them at the professors. "You must confess, lads," he whispered. "I'm to be expelled. You owe me for the Dungbombs, don't forget?"