Daisy Potter and You-Know-Poo's Return (Book 4, Harry Potter ff)

Chapter 15 - Little Less Frivolous

It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment I opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room. The nearest thing to it I had ever heard was the ghost orchestra at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party, who had all been playing the musical saw, for fuck sake.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

"What was that?" Seamus said, staring at the egg as I slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee... maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Daisy!"

"It was someone being tortured!" Neville said, who had gone very white, and spilled sausage rolls over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Nothing I haven't done before." I tossed my hair, and Gryffindor cheered.

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal." George said. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing... maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Daisy, Harry."

There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and Butterbeer on every surface; Lee had let off some Dr Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; and Dean, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry and I zooming around the Horntail on our Firebolts, though a couple showed Cedric, Krum, and Fleur with their heads on fire.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" Fred said.

Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.

"It's all right." He said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch -"

Terry, who had sneaked into Gryffindor Tower and just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out.

Fred laughed. "Just my little joke, Hopper..."

Hermione took a jam tart.

Then she said, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?"

"Yep." Fred said, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. "'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful... get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Hermione said, in an innocently casual sort of voice.

"Easy." Fred said. "Concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and -" He stopped, and looked suspiciously at her. "Why?"

"Nothing." Hermione said quickly.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" George said. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chortled. Hermione didn't answer.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" Fred said warningly. "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Just then, Terry had the audacity to cause a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.

"Oh - sorry, Hopper!" Fred shouted, over all the laughter. "I forgot - it was the custard creams we hexed -"

"Canary Creams!" I shouted to the excitable crowd. "The twins, Terry, and I invented them - seven Sickles each, bargain!"

It was nearly one in the morning when we all went up to our dorms. I collapsed into bed after tossing an empty crisp packet at Lee, and watched Terry as he hopped out the window on his broomstick. I kept watching until he was out of sight, though I did wonder why he was heading towards a ground floor window near the dungeons instead of Ravenclaw Tower...