Chapter 3: I AM thE SquiD!

"So, what you're telling us is that you live here."

"In this cave."

"Which we've been using to store Dungbombs"

"And that there's a great big dirty pipe outside pouring crap in through the other end."

"Which is why despite the fact that we've been enclosed inside giant air bubbles, the inside of your cave still stinks."

"And is filled with brown murky stuff."

"And Moaning Myrtle."

"And you want us to stop dumping Dungbombs in through the other end."

"As well as tell the people at Hogwarts to hurry it up with the sewage treatment"

"And if we don't, you'll eat us, covered in undelectable globs of manure as we are."

Kraken nodded. "Largely correct. It really is terrible living in these conditions, you know. Almost inhumane, not that I like to hold up humans as an example of good living." He sniffed disapprovingly. "I would be extremely appreciative if you would deliver my next letter to the Headmaster, whoever it is these days. You can't expect a squid to remember these things when he's nearly 1493 years old. It's not still whatshisface Dippet, is it?"

Fred and George shrugged. "Nope, Dumbledore. What's in the letter? Is it a Howler?"

Kraken looked at the two, staring at them with one of his dinner plate sized eyes, an action which made both of them feel extremely uncomfortable. "Of course not. That would be rude."

This comment caused Fred and George to exchange looks briefly, and madly try to stifle the urge to laugh, with the result that both of them looked like they were sitting on something extremely pointy, with tears leaking out of the sides of their eyes from the suppressed air pressure inside them.

Kraken raised what would have been an eyebrow if he'd had an eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

"Kraken, my boy, you've been going about this all wrong."

"If you want results, you've got to use whatever you have as leverage"

"And your leverage is that you are a big, scary squid who eats innocent little children like us."

Kraken stared. "I beg your pardon?"

"Look, do you want to live in a sewer for the rest of your life? Or do you want a nice clean lake, free from the murky pollution, the troubles of the big city…"

"… the hustle and bustle of everyday life, maybe some space to raise a family.."

"…a nice neat forest of seaweed or whatever, some trees... well, you get the idea."

"I mean, we can't even imagine why you didn't do anything sooner. Haven't you been living in this place since Hogwarts was founded?"

"And presumably, people needed the loo back then, too."

Kraken sniffed. "I moved here from the Black Sea about fifty years before the school was founded, back when it was a clearing in the forest and a couple of rocks. I didn't know they'd build a school there. When they were putting the pipe in, believe me, I made a fuss. But whatshername with the pet badger – Olga Hubblechuff? Inga Hugglefluff?"

"Helga Hufflepuff."

"Yes, that would be her. She told me they would put charms on the pipes to clean anything that would come out. It's a simple enough spell, you layer a Vanishing Charm to get rid of the sewage with a spell to purify the water and another to give it a fresh lemony scent—"

"A fresh lemony scent?" snorted George.

"Don't interrupt. I still have the power to eat you, although I'd really rather not because you look thoroughly filthy and I might catch food poisoning. So the charms were put in, and they worked fairly well. They were renewed when they wore off every fifty years by the caretaker of the school. Except this one seems to be slacking on his duties. The charms have been gone for three years now, and so I thought I'd remind him that it needs to be done, and that legally, it has to be done to any sewage pipe where spoiled potions and magical waste is poured into a body of water. But then, I decided, well, if it's going to be like this all over again every fifty years, I might as well demand that the pipe be moved or a permanent treatment facility be built. It's the proper protocol in this situation to inform the person in charge of its maintenance about the problem, and then to file an application with the Ministry"

Fred and George imagined a giant squid walking past rows of cubicles at the Ministry of Magic to hand in piles of paperwork. They exchanged another look, and decided to keep their opinions to themselves.

"Alright then, don't worry about a thing, Krakkers—"

"Don't call me that."

"—we'll have this all sorted out for you, Weasley style."

"Well, the cool Weasley style, anyway. Not the rod-shoved-up-bumness of Percy-style."

Kraken fixed one of his large eyes on them again. "What on earth would you know about filing complaints?"

Two devious grins, which by now had become very, very infamous up above at Hogwarts, glowed at the squid.

"Trust us."

Argus Filch was not one who enjoyed running. But having read the letter in his hand, he really had no choice.

"Professor Dumbledore," he wheezed. "Thought you might want to see this."

A tall wizard with a long white beard looked over his half moon spectacles at the scrap of parchment placed in front of him, and frowned.

Filch continued to wheeze, catching his breath after his dash up a long flight of stairs. "I've been tossing out all the mail from this sender; thought it was some kind of prank—"

Dumbledore looked up at Filch enquiringly.

"Er, not that I've been censoring the mail lately, no sir. It's just that it looked suspect, and you know I'm allowed to search for dangerous items—"

"Do carry on," said Dumbledore.

"Well, anyway, I read this, and you know the Weasley twins have been missing for several days, and I thought it might be of concern, sir." He pronounced the words 'Weasley twins' with a slight tang of disdain, the very same of which Severus Snape would later use whenever he had to use the words 'Harry Potter' in front of Dumbledore.

"It is very much of concern to me, Argus. Thank you. You may leave now."

Filch walked out of the door, not particularly pleased at the prospect of having to climb back down the very long flight of stairs outside.

Alone now in his office, Dumbledore unfolded the letter. In wonky letters cut out from old copies of the Daily Prophet and pasted onto the parchment with a Sticking Charm, were nineteen words painstakingly composed by Fred and George earlier in Kraken's lair.

"dUmBleDORE,

I AM thE SquiD. I HaVE the WEAsley TwInS. ReROUTE/clEAn THE sewage oR they DiE.

LoVE,

KRAKeN"

The headmaster frowned and shook his head. "Merlin's beard. It looks like the Muggle mode of communication known as the Internet."

He sighed. "And I was told that this squid was literate."

Author: This is about as far as I've planned. Two implications of this: the next chapter will take a long while to finish, and you, my loyal and rabidly fangirly/boyish readers, get to influence what happens next. Review and comment.