Chapter 26: The Cost of Mischief
After hearing about the twins' disastrous night adventure, Oliver Wood declared with great loyalty that he would speak to Professor McGonagall about arranging more Quidditch training.
Whether intentionally or not, Fred and George neglected to mention exactly how many house points Douglas had deducted.
The next morning at breakfast, the entire Great Hall quickly noticed something strange.
The Gryffindor hourglass—usually the fullest of the four—had been completely emptied overnight.
At first, the Gryffindor students didn't care much. Their hourglass being emptied happened at least once every school year.
Still, no one had expected it to happen this early in the term.
Besides, the other houses didn't have many points yet either. Gryffindor would earn them back eventually.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione spoke angrily to Harry and Ron.
"Honestly! Most of the points in that hourglass were earned by me in class. And they don't feel even the slightest bit guilty!"
Ron nearly spat pumpkin juice across the table.
"Blimey, Hermione! You actually expect Fred and George to feel guilty?"
Harry leaned closer and whispered,
"To be fair, Professor Holmes's punishment is already pretty harsh. Copying an entire textbook from memory…"
He glanced at Hermione sympathetically.
"That wouldn't be easy for anyone. Even you."
Hermione swallowed her sandwich and sniffed disdainfully.
"Hmph. Professor Holmes gave them more than two months. It would probably only take me a week."
She paused thoughtfully.
"The difficult part would just be the writing. That's exhausting."
Meanwhile, Fred and George were pacing up and down the Gryffindor table with their plates, carefully avoiding Percy's ongoing lecture.
Suddenly, loud laughter erupted from the Slytherin table.
Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain, stood up and announced loudly,
"You probably haven't heard! Gryffindor's famous twin beaters were taken down by a dungbomb last night!"
He burst into laughter.
"It seems the Gryffindor team has been declining ever since the so-called Chosen One showed up."
Flint grinned wickedly.
"Don't believe me? I heard it directly from Mr. Filch. Last night—"
Fred and George shot to their feet instantly, glaring across the hall.
Then they turned and spotted Filch standing near the staircase, petting Mrs. Norris while enjoying the show.
Everyone in the Great Hall quickly realized that Flint wasn't making this story up.
But that only made things more surprising.
The Weasley twins were famous for using dungbombs on other people.
So who on earth had managed to use one against them?
It certainly wasn't Filch.
Curious eyes throughout the hall turned toward the embarrassed twins.
The Gryffindors were especially stunned.
Then several students remembered what Fred and George had mentioned about their encounter with Professor Holmes the previous night.
Could it have been Professor Holmes?
People looked around for him, but he wasn't in the hall.
Unfortunately, there was no way to confirm the theory.
Before the whispers could spread further, the twins suddenly drew their wands in perfect unison.
Two spells shot across the hall.
"Langlock!"
"Tickling Charm!"
Marcus Flint was struck immediately.
His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, while his entire body began twitching with unbearable itching.
He tried to laugh to relieve the sensation—but couldn't make a sound.
The other Slytherins reacted instantly.
They raised their wands and aimed toward the Gryffindor table.
But the Ravenclaw students seated between the two houses forced them to hesitate.
Slytherins were clever enough to weigh their odds.
Starting a fight with two houses at once wasn't worth it.
Not to be outdone, the Gryffindor students also pulled out their wands.
Students from the other houses sensed disaster approaching.
Some quickly grabbed food from the tables and scrambled away.
The hall was on the brink of erupting into chaos.
Then a furious voice roared across the chamber.
"What do you think you're doing?! Stop this immediately!"
Everyone turned.
Professor McGonagall stood at the top of the steps like an enraged lioness.
Her expression was terrifying.
Filch stood beside her, panting heavily.
Even the bravest Gryffindor knew better than to argue with Professor McGonagall when she looked like that.
Wands vanished instantly.
Many students grabbed their food and fled toward the classrooms.
Fred and George attempted the same thing.
Unfortunately, McGonagall was not fooled.
"Mr. Weasley—stop right there!"
Ron, who had been running ahead of them, froze instantly in panic.
Professor McGonagall marched forward.
"George. Fred."
At that moment, Professor Snape swept into the hall, his black robes billowing.
He looked around the room.
Only Marcus Flint remained on the ground.
His expression darkened immediately.
Snape flicked his wand, ending Flint's hex.
"What happened?"
Flint shivered violently and muttered,
"Professor… Gryffindor attacked me when I wasn't paying attention…"
Snape glared at him.
"Pathetic."
Then he walked toward McGonagall.
He arrived just in time to hear her furious scolding.
"You two have truly outdone yourselves!"
"Nighttime wandering!"
"Attacking a professor!"
"Deducting all those house points!"
She pressed her fingers to her forehead.
"I woke up early this morning and could hardly believe the report Professor Holmes sent me!"
"And after causing all that trouble, the first thing you do this morning is start another fight?"
Her voice sharpened.
"Another fifty points from Gryffindor!"
"I will inform Professor Holmes that your detention now includes an additional requirement."
"In addition to the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, you will memorize the Transfiguration textbook as well."
"This must be completed before the end of the semester!"
Snape paused behind her, genuinely surprised.
Memorizing textbooks as punishment…
That was unusually creative.
Judging from the pale expressions on the twins' faces, it was probably far worse than cleaning one hundred frog intestines in his classroom.
Snape spoke quietly from behind McGonagall.
"Add the Potions textbook as well. Also before the end of the semester."
He nodded slightly.
"I think it's an excellent punishment."
Then he turned and left without another word.
McGonagall had already delivered the discipline. There was no need for him to intervene further.
Besides, he rather liked the idea.
Perhaps he would try it on the Slytherin students who had just lost that confrontation.
Snape's dislike of Douglas had nothing to do with this incident.
It stemmed from Douglas's old habits during Potions class.
The man had treated cauldrons like ordinary cooking pots.
He had a habit of preparing ingredients during class and casually taking leftovers away—bullfrog legs, pig hearts, dog lungs, and the like.
Once, Douglas had even boiled a potion until the cauldron was completely dry.
When Snape demanded an explanation, Douglas had calmly replied that he wanted to see if the potion could be turned into a pill.
Snape had no idea what a "pill" was.
But he knew one thing very clearly.
Douglas Holmes had absolutely no respect for Potions class.
Later that morning, Fred and George led their classmates to the fourth-floor classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Their classmates watched them with deep sympathy.
George approached Douglas with a miserable expression and handed over a note.
"Professor… Professor McGonagall asked me to give this to you."
Douglas read the message.
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
What a pair of talents.
Every time they caused trouble, they behaved themselves for a while afterward—just long enough to avoid Professor Sprout adding even more punishment to the list.
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