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

Chapter 25:4

Fred and George watched in wonder as the headmaster drew back his wand and cast an almighty spell at the painting. The floors trembled, tables and chairs fell to their sides, and then an explosion rocked the Great Hall, shattering the windows. A flurry of robust wind blasted through the room, quenching the flames in the giant hearth and plunging them all into darkness.

Wands were illuminating amid the flashes of lightening and sprays of rain. Dumbledore's wand hovered beside him, as he approached the painting in rapt silence. The stool had fallen during the spell, and the frame lay flat upon the table.

"It's empty," he said lightly, rainwater dragging across his face while he searched the canvas.

"No...under the table!" Professor Mulligan yelled in the wind.

The twins hobbled over to see the wizard from the painting lying on the ground beneath the Gryffindor house table, the mask on his face melting away. Fred and George could see a worn and exhausted man below the dripping paint. He had a thick, whiskery beard and shaggy dark hair.

"He's alive!" Parsimonae cried, his voice quivering.

Dumbledore dropped to his knees and rushed to wipe the paint free, as Fred and George dragged the table away. None of them had ever seen their headmaster so mesmerized.

"He...looks exactly the same," Dumbledore gasped, as Parsimonae knelt beside him. "Aged only enough to grow a beard."

"Maybe a year in fifty," said Kettleburn in disbelief.

"The same age as when he taught at Hogwarts."

The haggard wizard struggled to take a breath as he opened his eyes.

"Albus?" he uttered, smiling peacefully.

"Yes, my friend," said Dumbledore.

His grizzled face became rigid, his eyebrows furrowed suddenly. "The boy...one of Slughorn's...he..."

Fred nudged his brother, as they eyed Kettleburn suspiciously. And then, the man went limp.

"What's happened to him?" said Parsimonae uneasily.

"Nothing. And everything," Dumbledore said, standing. "He has been unable to truly rest in half a century. I'm afraid he will be asleep for some time."

The twins peered at their headmaster.

"That man was your friend?" asked George.

"Who is he, Professor?" asked Fred.

"His name is Vindictus Veridian," Dumbledore responded, appraising the wizard in anguish. "He has been missing since the rebellion of Grindelwald the Many."

"Grindelwald did this!" Kettleburn snapped, a trickle of steam escaping his chest.

Professor Dumbledore considered his words carefully. "Someone is responsible, and I think they are in this very room."

Hagrid shot a glance at Aruzula Darc.

"There is still much that is unclear about this story. We need answers...and we will not be getting them from Vindictus. Not directly, that is."

Dumbledore glided to the hearth and ignited the fire with a spell. He stared into the flames before continuing.

"Dandy, please come here," he said, in a clear voice.

The house-elf appeared suddenly, a few feet away and wearing a smile. It faded the instant he noticed the devastation in the room. Then he saw Aruzula Darc wrapped in chains and his round eyes widened.