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

Chapter 23:1

THE MEANTAIL MIST

Their first year at Hogwarts was coming to a close.

An endless number of grueling exams were days away, Lee and Angelina were giving them the silent treatment, and it was hard to tell whether the other Gryffindors were studying rigorously or simply ignoring the twins. By choosing to skip the final match, Fred and George had solidified their poor reputations, while convincing the rest of the school that they had stopped caring because they were facing expulsion for destroying the paintings. The only student who seemed to disagree was Nymphadora Tonks.

According to the Marauder's Map, the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain now shared their suspicions of the Professtigator, because she followed him constantly. It was either that or her desire to leverage some secret knowledge about Parsimonae to escape the final exam. Everyone they passed in the corridors on their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts was complaining that they had never felt so overwhelmed by the amount of material he was covering. From the history of Dark Arts delineation, to practical defense methods and investigatory skills, Lexington Parsimonae was obsessed with making up for the time they had lost during first term. And he could not be bothered by the number of enemies he created in the process.

As the twins found their seats in the classroom on that warm afternoon in May, Professor Parsimonae was eager to revive the friendship they'd developed months ago, when he had yet to be appointed as their instructor.

"Fred! George. Lovely day, is it not? I hope you're prepared for today's exam."

"How could we be? You continually refuse to tell us how we're being tested," George griped, as Fred sharpened the tips of their old quills against the stone wall.

The investigator grinned more broadly than expected. "Oh, as long as you've paid attention in class you'll be fine. I happen to believe that you boys are two of our best and brightest."

Fred coughed through a gale of laughter. "Did your son put you up to that?"

"Have I said something wrong?"

George tilted his head, looking incredulous. "Fred laughed because no one thinks we're the best at anything."

"Correctly stated, George."

"Don't be thick," said Parsimonae, to their surprise. "Why else would I come to your defense on the morning after your birthday? Undoubtedly, I'm opposed to students being out after dark, but I was certain you could not be blamed for the paintings."

"Is that right?" Fred asked, in a soft and questioning voice. "How do you know for sure?"

"Because I am a fabulous judge of character. It's one of my strengths," Parsimonae replied, still grinning. "Now, I've been meaning to tell you...I've given some thought to that map of yours. The one that doesn't exist." He tapped the side of his nose twice. "I believe I may have solved your deactivation issue. If you'd be willing to part with it for the day, I could..."

He trailed to a stop. Their horrified expressions revealed all.

"I see. You needn't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

I'm going to come right out with it, George, Fred thought instantly, looking like a cat ready to pounce.

Stop, Fred. He can't know that we're on to him! George silently replied, knowing full well that there was no stopping his brother.

"And what about your secrets?" asked Fred.

Parsimonae leaned back, nodding calmly, almost amused by the challenge.

"True, we all live a secret life. Even you and your brother," he stated wryly. "To ignore such a characteristic in a friend, or an opponent, would be foolhardy, indeed."

"We'll be keeping the map, for now, thanks," said Fred, expressionless.

"No matter. I'll have it figured out...one way or another," said Parsimonae with finality, as he stepped away to encourage the other students before the exam.