THC Round 7
Hufflepuff
Astronomy
Standard
[Object] Shoelaces
WC: 1137
An Easy Target
"We could make a lozenge that causes you to laugh uncontrollably," said Fred with a mouth full of bread. Head to head in the Great Hall, Fred and George dedicated their dinner conversation to brainstorming possible pranks.
"I like it," said George. "But I want to make people laugh the good old-fashioned way, you know?"
"Yeah," agreed Fred, taking another bite of his soup. "This soup takes like bricks."
"There's an idea," piped George, pointing his spoon in Fred's direction, flinging a piece of meat right past Fred's face.
"Watch it!"
"Sorry!" laughed George. "But really, a charm that makes everything taste like bricks."
Fred nodded. "Or something worse than bricks. Any idea how we could do that?
"No," frowned George. "It might be a lot of work..."
"What about sleeping tea?" suggested Fred.
"Sleeping tea?"
"Yeah. A breakfast tea that puts you to sleep instead of waking you up," clarified Fred.
George nodded. "That could work… but most of us don't need any help falling back asleep in the morning. Who's going to buy it?"
"I'd buy it; slip it to a professor in the morning. They'd fall asleep, and never show up to teach the lesson.
"It would be an easy way to get out of class," said George. "We'd need a test target, though. Not a professor."
Fred's response was cut off by a round of laughter from the far end of the Gryffindor table. He whipped around to see Draco Malfoy and his two cronies surrounding Neville Longbottom. Neville's bowl of soup had been levitated from the table and dumped on his head. He was now dripping wet, clumps of vegetables and meat sliding down the sides of his face. He brought a hand to his eyes to wipe away a streak of soup, and most likely a few tears.
"He's an easy target," said George.
"That, he is," confirmed Fred, exchanging a significant look with his brother.
The two stood up from their seats and turned toward the commotion. The Slytherins had already scattered, having enjoyed their few moments of entertainment. Neville, however, still sat all alone, hunched over his now-empty soup bowl.
"Hey, Longbottom!"
Neville winced at the sound of his name, turning sheepishly to face an approaching Fred and George. He cowered as the twins took a seat on either side of him, seeming to grow smaller in stature in response to their acknowledgment. It made sense — Fred and George had been known to play tricks on people, and Neville was prone to bullying.
"We have a question for you," said Fred, reaching for a piece of bread in the middle of the table.
"Um, okay? What is it?" asked Neville nervously, staring at the table.
"Why don't you ever fight back?" asked George.
"I can't, really. Don't know very many hexes," shrugged Neville, before adding more softly, "And I don't want to hurt them."
"Then try to run away. At least make them work for it," said Fred, with a pat on Neville's shoulder.
"I'm not fast enough."
Fred looked at his brother, trying to communicate wordlessly the sympathetic, yet excited pang he felt in his chest. Neville was an easy target. Almost too easy.
At that moment, Neville stood up to leave, muttering something about needing to wash up before class. He was turning toward the hall's entrance when Fred spotted it.
"Neville, your shoelaces—"
But it was too late. Neville had already tripped and tumbled to the floor, earning another round of laughter from nearby diners. He quickly tied his shoes before standing back up and hurrying out the door with his shoulders slumped.
"Kid really needs to learn a self-tying charm," observed Fred.
Like that, a new prank idea hit Fred. "George, that's it!"
George looked at his brother in confusion. "How is that a prank?"
"It's not, but self-untying charm could be," said Fred with a smug smirk.
"Genius," laughed George.
x
It didn't take Fred and George very long to perfect the charm and had even taken it a step further. Now, with a flick of their wands, they could untie anyone's shoelaces, which would then link to one another in a tight knot. Falling was inevitable.
They practiced extensively on themselves at first, resulting in a few scrapes and bruises—nothing that a laugh and a quick episkey couldn't fix—and it was time to move onto another test subject.
Their opportunity arrived one morning during the breakfast rush. Like most mornings, the hundreds of hungry students packed into the corridors like sardines meant the subtle assertions of power generally went unnoticed by professors. Everything from pushes and shoves to muttered hexes and curses were drowned out by the chatter that echoed through the castle's hallways. But Fred and George's eyes were always open and vigilant, scanning for targets. Not just easy targets, but deserving ones too.
"George!" whispered Fred when he spotted Neville Longbottom stumbling down the hall. His eyes were focused on the ground just in front of his feet. Thankfully his shoelaces were tied tightly.
"There he is," said George, reaching for his wand in his pocket. "And now we wait and watch."
"Longbottom!" It happened fast — Neville sped up when he spotted Malfoy and those two goons lumbering after him, mischievous smirks painted on their faces. "Yes, try to run away, don't make it easy for them," muttered Fred. "Would you like to do the honors?"
"Yes, I would," said George, drawing his wand from his pocket and pointing it at the boys, keeping it concealed underneath this sleeve.
Neville stopped in his tracks when he heard a loud thunk, followed by laughter. Fred and George watched him spin on his heel to look back, only to see Draco Malfoy face-down in the corridor, having plummeted to the floor in his pursuit of Neville. With a groan, Draco pressed himself away from the floor and looked around, his face turning crimson-red upon realizing that everyone was laughing at him.
He slowly rose to his feet and tried to run after Neville again, only for his foot to get caught on its own shoelace as he fell over again. That's when he noticed his shoes had tied themselves together by the laces, and the red in his face shifted from embarrassment to downright anger.
"You!" he said, pointing at Crabbe and Goyle towering above him. "Why did you do that?"
Their following argument was muffled by the crowd's continued laughter, an agreement that Malfoy really needed a karmic kick in the butt, and finally got what was coming to him.
Fred chanced a glance at Neville, who caught his eye. Upon seeing George slip his wand back into his pocket, Neville sent him a smile— a simple and subtle 'thank you.'
He smiled back—a quick 'you're welcome' in his direction before turning back to appreciate a still-red-faced Draco struggling to untie his shoes. Malfoy didn't just pick on easy targets, he was one, and it was time he learned that.