Chapter 143: The Twins' Grand Exit
The corridor outside Professor Flitwick's Charms classroom was quiet, the muffled sounds of incantations and the occasional burst of sparks seeping through the thick stone walls. Fred and George Weasley stood before Elian, their faces alight with the particular brand of mischief that had made them legends at Hogwarts long before their seventh year.
Elian studied them for a moment, taking in the excited gleam in their eyes, the barely contained energy that made them practically vibrate. He'd known this was coming—had known since they'd confided in him weeks ago about their plans. But seeing them now, on the verge of actually doing it, he felt a flicker of something almost like admiration.
They had courage. Real courage. The kind that wasn't about facing dark lords or killing giants, but about choosing freedom over security, adventure over comfort.
"Leaving, then?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
Fred grinned, producing a small box from his pocket and pressing it into Elian's hand. "Consider this an advance on your grand opening gift. We're calling it the Instant-Exit Candy Collection. Nosebleed Nougat, Fever Fudge, Puking Pastilles—the full range. For when you need to skip a class and want to do it with style."
George leaned in, stage-whispering, "The nosebleed one's our favourite. Very convincing. Makes a mess, though, so maybe don't use it in the library. Madam Pince will have your head."
Elian tucked the box into his robes. "I'll keep that in mind."
"So," Fred said, rocking back on his heels, "aren't you going to ask? Where we're going? What we're doing?"
"You're opening a joke shop," Elian said flatly. "In Diagon Alley. With Harry's Triwizard gold as seed money."
Both twins deflated slightly, their shoulders slumping in exaggerated disappointment.
"Blimey," George muttered. "You're no fun at all."
"We were going to tell you we'd been recruited by Dumbledore to fight Death Eaters," Fred added mournfully. "Thought we'd at least get a reaction."
Elian's lips twitched. "Dumbledore has better taste."
Fred clutched his chest as if wounded. "Ouch. Truly, you know how to wound a man."
George recovered first, his expression softening into something more genuine. "Actually, we did come to ask a favour. A real one."
Elian waited.
"It's Ron," Fred said, and for once there was no mockery in his voice. "Our mum would kill us if anything happened to him while we're gone. Not literally, probably, but you know. She'd be disappointed. And that's worse."
"We've looked out for him his whole life," George continued. "Even when he didn't know it. Even when he was being a right prat. But we can't do that from Diagon Alley. Not with everything that's coming."
They both looked at Elian with an earnestness that seemed almost foreign on their perpetually grinning faces.
"So we're asking you," Fred said quietly. "Look out for him. For Harry too, and Hermione. But especially Ron. He's our brother, and he's not as clever as he thinks he is, and he's going to do something stupid the minute we're gone."
Elian regarded them for a long moment. The request was familiar—Dumbledore had asked the same thing, in his own way, just days ago. Protect them. Take care of them. Keep them safe.
It was becoming a theme.
"I already promised Dumbledore," he said finally. "Before he left. He asked me to look after all of you."
Fred and George exchanged glances, something passing between them that didn't need words.
"Well, then," Fred said, his grin returning. "That's settled. Ron's in good hands."
"The best hands," George agreed. "Hands that punched Malfoy across the Great Hall. Hands that apparently made giants do... whatever you made them do. Hagrid's been tight-lipped, but he's got that look, you know? The 'I've seen things I can't unsee' look."
Elian didn't confirm or deny. He simply waited.
Fred clapped him on the shoulder. "Right then. We'd better get on with it. Big show to put on and all that."
"You'll want to watch," George added. "Trust us. It'll be legendary."
They turned to go, but Fred paused, looking back. "Oh, and Elian? That thing with Malfoy? Calling Hermione what he did? Good on you. She's worth a hundred of him."
Then they were off, jogging down the corridor toward the Great Hall, their robes billowing behind them like twin banners of chaos.
Elian watched them go. Then, slowly, he followed.
The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual lunchtime chaos when Fred and George made their entrance.
They didn't walk in. They appeared—suddenly, dramatically, in the centre of the Hall, as if they'd Apparated (which, technically, was impossible at Hogwarts, but no one was thinking about technicalities just then).
Every head turned. Conversations died. Even the ghosts stopped mid-drift to stare.
Umbridge, seated at the High Table in Dumbledore's chair, looked up from her plate of soup with an expression of instant suspicion. "What is the meaning of this? Weasleys! You are not permitted to—"
But Fred and George weren't listening.
"My fellow students," Fred announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the Hall. "It has come to our attention that Hogwarts has become... how shall I put this?"
"A bit rubbish," George supplied.
"Quite. A bit rubbish. And since we at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes believe in quality control, we've decided that this particular product—" Fred gestured vaguely at the Hall, at Umbridge, at everything—"is defective and must be recalled."
Umbridge was on her feet now, her face purple. "SILENCE! How dare you—Inquisitorial Squad! Seize them!"
Malfoy and his cronies scrambled to obey, but they were too slow. Much too slow.
George pulled out his wand. Fred did the same. They pointed them at the ceiling.
And then the fireworks began.
Great winged creatures erupted from their wands—dragons and phoenixes and serpents made of pure, dazzling light—soaring through the Hall, trailing sparks of every colour imaginable. They wove between the floating candles, dodged the enchanted ceiling, and swooped low over the heads of cheering students.
Umbridge screamed. Malfoy ducked. The Slytherin table scattered as a particularly aggressive firework serpent dive-bombed them.
But the twins weren't finished.
With a final, theatrical bow, Fred reached into his robes and produced a pair of broomsticks—their confiscated brooms, somehow retrieved from Umbridge's office. He tossed one to George.
"One last ride?" Fred asked.
"Wouldn't miss it."
They mounted and kicked off, soaring upward through the explosions of light. At the peak of their arc, just before they would have crashed into the enchanted ceiling, they vanished—simply disappeared, leaving only echoes of laughter and a Hall full of stunned, delighted faces.
The fireworks continued for a full five minutes, long after the twins had gone. And when the last spark faded, the students erupted.
Cheers. Whistles. Applause. Gryffindors were on their feet, banging on the tables. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs joined in, their faces alight with joy. Even some of the professors—Flitwick, Sprout—were struggling to hide their smiles.
Umbridge stood frozen at the High Table, her face a mask of impotent fury. Her soup was ruined. Her dignity was in tatters. And the two students who had just humiliated her in front of the entire school were already halfway to Diagon Alley, laughing all the way.
At the Gryffindor table, Ron watched his brothers' exit with his mouth hanging open. Hermione was laughing—actually laughing, the sound bright and free. Harry was grinning so hard his face hurt.
And Elian, who had slipped in quietly during the chaos, watched from the shadows near the entrance. He saw the joy on his friends' faces, the defiance in their eyes, the spark of hope that the twins had reignited in a school grown grey with fear.
Not bad, he thought. Not bad at all.
He thought of the box of candies in his pocket, of the twins' request, of Dumbledore's. And he smiled—a small, private smile that no one saw.
The war was coming. But for one glorious moment, Hogwarts remembered how to laugh.
(End of Chapter)
✨If you're enjoying this story, consider supporting me on Patreon —
Patreon.com/TofuChan
Where you can read Extra Advance Chaters
Bonus Chapter For Every 100 Power Stones
Lets hit the goal of 300 Patreon Members now for 5 Extra Chapters 💕