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

Chapter 24:3

CRAAASH!

Kettleburn dropped like a giant, mechanized troll onto the landing beside them, his powerful legs smashing through the last step of the nearest staircase. He cracked his neck, took in a deep breath, and hastily threaded a replacement hand onto his wrist from the metal ring of substitutes concealed behind his thick cape. Attached to the grip was a wand, its wood charred, misshapen, and reinforced with dull silver rivets that spoke of all the tragedies he had suffered in life.

Fred and George were trapped between them. And without time to think, George reached through the mechanics on Kettleburn's false leg, found a tube that seemed important, and tore it from its housing. Blistering steam rocked the stairwell as the Magical Creatures professor was thrust several stories upward, spinning end over end until he smashed into the wall and dropped two floors to a passing staircase, utterly immobilized.

"Thank you for that. Now, where was I?" Aruzula Darc closed in on them greedily, and then suddenly stopped. She searched the stairwell, her eyes going wide. "Moira," she said in a frenzied whisper. "No..."

Aruzula noticed the boys staring uneasily at the investigator, and turned to see that his shoes, though still attached to the ground, were surprisingly empty. A glimpse of his rippling robe could be seen, as Parsimonae vanished into the shadows of the second floor corridor. Aruzula Darc glared at the twins and threw out her arm, a tremor coursing through her body. The black broomstick snapped to her open palm. She stepped on without a word, reversed, and took off past them, gathering speed as a violent, frustrated scream seemed to burst out of her.

The twins stared in shock at the disarray that surrounded them — the crumbled stairs, the unconscious teacher, and a stampede of enchanted portraits fleeing the gallery as their canvases were stripped bare. And then, breaking through the chaos, came two bickering voices.

"Move, will you?"

"Can't you see I'm trying? It won't budge."

"Then we'll have to turn back. They need our help!"

They gave the painting a final, solid shove. The frame broke free from the wall and plunged to the pile of broken stone. The crooked figure within yelled profanities at them, as Lee and Angelina hopped down from the passageway. From a floor above, they heard Kettleburn stirring.

"Oy, you four! Stay right where I can see you!"

Instinctively, George sat on their broomstick, his eyes locked on the archway to the third floor corridor, where Aruzula Darc had disappeared only moments prior.

"That broom's damaged. It won't fly properly.

"It'll have to do, won't it?"

"George, wait!" Fred pleaded.

"Nothing to worry about," he replied, stuffing the contents of his schoolbag into his robe. "Lee, get on."

"You're not going after her!" said Fred with surprise, he'd never seen his brother so fearless.

Lee mounted the back of their shoddy school broom and looped his arms around George's waist.

"Just don't let Parsimonae escape," George ordered, before jetting after the witch, leaving behind a swirl of wind and dust.

Hopping over the fallen painting, Angelina rushed down the stairs.

"Hang on, where are you off to?"

"You heard your brother, didn't you?" she said promptly. "We need to stop him. Get going!"

Fred, who was normally the first to take up a challenge, was the last to leave the stairwell, as the four of them followed after Aruzula Darc and Lexington Parsimonae. It was difficult, at first, to keep pace with Angelina, but it was even more difficult to follow the shoeless Magical Investigator, who was half-trotting, half-sliding down the hallway.

"Stop! We can't let you leave Hogwarts!" Fred yelled, as they chased after him.

"You don't understand. I cannot lose him."

Lexington removed his top hat and whizzed it back at them like a platter. Unsure of its powers, they dove to the ground and allowed it to thump the wall. It dropped inertly to their legs. His defense was pathetic, and yet it gave the investigator an opportunity to put more space between them. Fred and Angelina leapt to their feet. As they dusted themselves off, they noticed how the paintings had been disturbed up and down the corridor.

Angelina rushed to the closest one.

"Has he done something to you?"

"No, it was that blasted man in the mask," said a cross little goblin, who was forced to restack his towers of gold galleons. "It's a disgrace...the way he runs from portrait to portrait without the courtesy of asking permission."

"Wait," said Fred, stepping closer. "Professor Parsimonae's chasing the wizard in the iron mask? With the green robes? George and I have seen him before."

"He must be the key to all of this," said Angelina. She took off down the hall at a tear. "C'mon then, Weasley. Won't catch him by standing round here all day."