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

Chapter 21:3

It was long after curfew when they crept out of the dormitory and down the stairs to the common room. Fred and George were wise enough to suspect that Percy would be patrolling the tower to stop them from using their birthday as an excuse to wreak havoc and inevitably lose house points. Thankfully, he was asleep. They could hear him snoring away on the couch in front of the dying fire. But when they passed into the portrait hole, the twins were surprised to find that it was Charlie who had been keeping watch. He stirred when the Fat Lady's frame eased from the wall, and the boys hastened their escape.

After an unfortunately lengthy jaunt to the founders' room (where they were stuck having to wait for Mr. Filch to leave the corridor after he blew his nose into a soiled handkerchief, and then stared down at it for a full ten seconds before leaving), the Weasley twins headed to their destination — the Restricted Section.

They had yet to be in the library at night. There was never a need, and the room was somewhat dull compared to the rest of the castle. But in the fixed glow of moonlight, and in the silent echo of their footsteps, the haunting brilliance of the room captured their imaginations.

The Restricted Section was easy to find in the dark. They often stared down at those books from the upper level of the library, wondering what made them more hazardous than the rest. But as they stole past the tables and opened the carved door at the center of the partition, Fred and George began to grasp the many reasons for secrecy. Within the alcove were four short aisles, and each book mesmerized them in its own way. Some were battered and rattling uncontrollably, others were wrapped in thick chains and manacles. There were books with razor sharp pages, with brittle, charred bindings, and a few that seemed to whisper at them from behind small iron doors. One grimy black volume had a waxy surface and a brass key skewered violently into the cover. But none of these were more interesting than the three books that drew them to the back wall, resting beneath a cloudy glass dome with a number of mysterious relics and cracked instruments. The first book was smoldering on a bed of red-hot embers. The second was bleeding, its binding covered in gruesome scabs. The third was limp and speckled with rot. It appeared to be breathing. The Restricted Section, and all the insidious magical knowledge it held, so unnerved the twins that, for the first time since entering the wizarding school, they were too frightened to speak.

Hanging just above the dome, caked in dust and shrouded in the feeble light of nearby candle stubs, was the item for which they were searching — a seemingly innocuous, pewter picture frame. The photo within showed two rows of students from each of the four houses, eight people in total, including their stoic professor, dressed in a patterned and embroidered waistcoat, who kept his hands folded at his bulbous waist. He was shorter than some of the students and balding, though he appeared to make up for the loss with a huge, walrus-like mustache. The professor scrutinized his students with a wellspring of pride, then nodded significantly at the camera, as if to speak directly to future generations who would look upon the photo and recognize his brilliance for bringing them together.

"That's gotta be her!" said Fred, taking the photo from the wall. He cleared the dust with the side of his hand. "Young, but her."

Aruzula was standing at the far left of the back row, beside two other girls. George confirmed it in a glance, noticing the witch's delicate beauty and long black hair. She couldn't have been much older than Percy when the photo was taken.

"Spital was right, George. And didn't he mention that one of the boys in this picture was just as dangerous?"

"Yeah, but which one?"

Out of the seven students pictured, four were boys — three in the bottom row, who looked average and uninteresting, and one in the top, who was standing alongside the girls. He was tall, with short dark hair and a bleak, nefarious expression. An older emblem of Slytherin House stood out on his tousled robe. The longer the twins stared at him, the colder the room seemed to feel. They shivered just as he glanced down the row at Aruzula. The moment was fleeting, but they saw a chilling glint of allure in the boy's eyes before he turned back to face them.