Though Ian didn't believe they acted maliciously, he couldn't deny finding their current situation amusing— like cats toying with mice.
Or perhaps it was the other way around. Ian stood on the stairs, observing the spectacle below.
"This way! Quick! George!"
George darted behind a suit of armor, barely concealing his grin. Moments later, Fred followed suit, mimicking his brother's choice of cover. Just as their mischief seemed complete, the ever-grumbling caretaker, Argus Filch, hobbled into view.
"Where are they! I saw someone, I swear it!"
Filch's eyes narrowed, scanning the corridor. Without Mrs. Norris, his ever-watchful cat, his already limited abilities were further reduced. He seemed entirely unaware of the twins' whereabouts.
Most students feared Filch not for his own merits, but because of Mrs. Norris. The cat was unnervingly clever, swift, and impossible to deceive. She could sniff out a rule-breaking student in seconds, and Filch's knowledge of Hogwarts' secret passages made escaping nearly impossible.
But tonight, Mrs. Norris was otherwise occupied. Earlier, Ian had taken the liberty of locking her in a magically reinforced cage within a room overflowing with fish treats. The tantalizing aroma was pure torture for the feline, who pawed fruitlessly at the bars. Revenge for all the times Mrs. Norris had ratted him out.
Unwittingly, Ian's little act of sabotage had gifted the twins a golden opportunity. Filch stood bewildered in the middle of the hall, muttering under his breath.
"Clang!"
A distant noise echoed through the corridor. Filch's ears perked, his expression hardening.
"Over there!"
With as much speed as his stiff legs could muster, he hobbled off toward the sound. The twins waited, peeking from behind the armor until the coast was clear.
"He's such an idiot," George snickered, wiping crumbs from his mouth. Clearly, he'd been sneaking a snack while in hiding.
"I bet he won't sleep a wink tonight," Fred added with a grin, snatching the remaining bits of food from George's hands.
"We need to hurry and check out the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office. The Marauder's Map shows he's not there," George whispered conspiratorially. "I'd wager there's loads of incriminating stuff tucked away."
Curiosity was clearly driving the twins, but Ian suspected they might also be simply bored— and itching for trouble.
"Maybe we'll get a Special Services to the School award! Dumbledore will heap house points on us! Gryffindor'll have the House Cup in the bag!" Fred declared, the gleam of ambition in his eyes.
"And he might even let us roam the school at night— officially! We'll be honorary protectors of Hogwarts!" George beamed, fully embracing the fantasy.
Their camaraderie was undeniable. The twins practically finished each other's thoughts, already anticipating their next mischievous adventure.
Just as they were about to dash off, Ian lingered, curious to see how far their reckless plan would go.
"Crash~"
Suddenly, a figure burst out from the wall behind them, knocking over the suit of armor George had previously used for hiding, instantly pinning him beneath it.
"Sure enough, Hogwarts at night is far more exciting than during the day," Ian remarked, watching as Peeves completed his ambush before vanishing gleefully through the wall. His mischievous tactics were disturbingly effective.
"My back! Fred! I think my kidney's been crushed!" George groaned, flailing helplessly beneath the heavy armor.
Seeing this, Fred cursed under his breath. "Blasted Peeves!"
He quickly reached for his wand.
"Don't curse me!" Peeves cackled, popping back out from a nearby wall. To Ian's astonishment, the poltergeist gleefully "possessed" another suit of armor, causing it to clank and creak to life.
"Peeves can't do that, can he?" Ian's eyes widened.
But George and Fred's eyes were even wider. The animated armor charged at Fred like a rampant troll.
"Oi!"
With an earsplitting clang, Fred was flattened under its weight, landing in a heap next to George. Peeves, still giggling uncontrollably, began piling even more suits of armor and other discarded objects on top of the twins.
"That's what you get for offending Peevesy! Hee hee! Didn't think I could do this, did you?" Peeves crowed, twisting mid-air and blowing a wet raspberry at the struggling brothers.
"Peeves, what are you playing at?"
"Get off us, you rotten little menace!"
The twins' protests only seemed to delight Peeves further.
"Beg me for mercy!" He shrieked. "Not that it'll do you any good! But with that attitude— oh no, no, no! You deserve to be punished!"
Without another word, Peeves zoomed off through the castle, heading straight in the direction Filch had taken.
"Oi! Mr. Filch! Over here! I've got the nasty little rule-breakers all trussed up! No gratitude for poor Peevesy, just insults and curses! They deserve double the punishment!"
Ian watched as Peeves disappeared around the corner, his laughter echoing down the corridor.
"Fred! My wand! I think it's snapped!"
"Stop moaning, George! Just— just shift your weight! We need to get out from under this lot!"
Still half-buried beneath the armor, the twins wriggled and grunted, their attempts at freedom looking rather pitiful. Then, as they managed to poke their heads free, they spotted Ian watching from the stairs.
"Prins…!"
They tried to call for help, but before another word could escape their lips, the ominous figure of Argus Filch hobbled into view, led triumphantly by Peeves. Their expressions immediately twisted into ones of pure horror.
"That's them, right?" Filch rasped, his squinty eyes gleaming with triumph.
"Where are the little night-walkers?" He scoured the shadows, visibly struggling without Mrs. Norris to guide him.
"You're supposed to say, 'Oh, great Peeves, reveal the wicked troublemakers to me!'" Peeves demanded, bouncing gleefully above Filch. "But since you lack manners, I'll show you anyway."
"Game over!" The twins groaned in unison.
"I caught them first!" Filch barked, his chest puffing with self-satisfaction.
"Caught them? Ha! You've got no talent for it! It was all Peevesy's brilliance!" Peeves jeered, cartwheeling mid-air.
And, to be fair, he wasn't wrong. Filch, without Mrs. Norris, had little success in capturing rule-breakers. More often than not, he was the one being outwitted.
"Peeves! You hate Filch!" George protested desperately. "Why are you helping him now?"
"You're betraying your own chaotic code!" Fred added, wriggling furiously beneath the armor.
"Oh-ho! Isn't that the tragedy of it all?" Peeves twirled through the air, clearly savoring every second of their despair. "But you insulted Peevesy, and Peevesy never forgets!"
"And I hate you two even more, hehe." Peeves pulled a grotesque face at the twins, clearly unsatisfied with their plight. With a gleeful cackle, he swooped away to gather a heap of discarded odds and ends, intent on burying them further.
"Little wizards! Not sleeping! Sneaking around! Naughty, naughty! Must be punished!" Peeves sang gleefully as the twins' heads disappeared beneath the mound of debris.
"You'll regret this, Peeves!" George Weasley's muffled voice came from beneath the clutter.
"Too right! You'll be tossed out for good!" Fred shouted, his tone dripping with defiance. He knew Peeves' greatest fear — the threat of expulsion. Even a chaotic poltergeist didn't like being reminded that he wasn't entirely untouchable.
"Shut up, you vile Gryffindor pests!" Filch snarled, his yellowed teeth bared in a grimace. His resentment practically oozed from every word, but the twins remained utterly unfazed.
Their indifference only stoked Filch's fury further.
"I've caught you red-handed this time! Running amok, breaking every rule you fancy, mocking the very foundations of this school with your shameless antics!" He jabbed a gnarled finger at them, triumphant glee gleaming in his eyes.
"Today, I'll see to it you get what you deserve! Mark my words, you won't escape a proper punishment!"
"You don't have that kind of power," George quipped, emerging from the pile with a half-smirk.
"Exactly!" Fred chimed in. "The old punishments are gone. You can't string us up by our thumbs or whip us with chains. Best you can do is stick us in detention!"
Their nonchalant attitude sent Filch into a sputtering rage.
(To Be Continued…)
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