Hello, and happy advent everyone! It has been over a month since I updated, so I think it's high time I did so.
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The twins turn detective
Fred and George peered around the corner.
"No one's there," George whispered. "Go!"
The two of them sprinted around the corner and dived behind a suit of armour.
It was the perfect plan. The twins had thought it down to the last detail. They were still determined to find out who the mysterious person was who kept pulling off all of these amazing practical jokes, so had said a trap, that only someone who was as passionate about jokes as they were would fall for.
They had let off a dungbomb in one of the corridors farthest away from Filch's office. In his fury, Filch had not bothered to lock his door, and inside his office was a selection of confiscated objects that the caretaker had collected over the course of the years. The twins knew that it was that time of year when Filch counted up all of the objects and added them to his files. It would be and opportunity impossible for anyone even remotely interested in causing havoc to avoid. When the mystery person appeared, the twins would be ready.
Suddenly, they heard a noise. It was footsteps. They ducked further behind the suit of armour and held their breath.
To their surprise, the person did not stop at Filch's office, but walked straight past it and their hiding place without a second glance. The identity of the person explained it.
"Professor Sprout," George said. "At least we can rule her off the list."
"She was ruled off from the start," Fred commented. "Lest you forget the toad incident? I don't know much about Sprout, but I do know that she'd have to be completely batty to put a toad in her own cereal."
"You never know," George shrugged.
"Shh," Fred said. "Someone's coming!"
They peered down the corridor, in the direction of the footsteps. But nobody was there.
The footsteps drew closer. The twins were puzzled. They looked both ways, but couldn't see anyone.
To say that they were rather baffled would be an understatement. But if they were confused now, it was nothing compared to how confused they were a few seconds later when a dungbomb came floating out of Filch's office completely of its own accord, soon to be followed by a fanged frisbee, a filibuster firework and most of the rest of the confiscated objects of Filch's office.
"What's going on?" George asked, regardless of whether anyone could hear him. As if attracted to sound, the dungbomb came floating towards their hiding place.
The twins, with a yell, leapt out from behind the suit of armour. To their further horror, the helmet from the suit of armour voluntarily detatched itself from the rest of its outfit and floated around in the air.
The terrified twins gave a cry of fear and tore off down the corridor, to tell their strange story to the first person they saw.
The helmet, which had bobbed along behind them until the corner, stopped, and walked back the other way, apparantly in fits of sniggers.
The sniggers were sternly repressed, however, when Filch turned the corner and spotted it too.
"AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!" He yelled. "Professor Dumbledore! Professor Dumbledore! The suit of armour is alive!"
However the next person to turn the corner, wondering what on earth the noise was about was not Dumbledore, but Snape.
Snape swept into sight, irritated by the disturbance, took one look at the floating helmet and raised an eyebrow at it.
"I think you better go, Filch," he said. "I'll sort this out."
Filch, without another word, and muttering uncomprehendably to himself, dashed off down the corridor.
When he was gone, Snape turned around and faced the floating helmet with a reprimanding look.
"Take off the helmet," he said.
"Oh, do I have to?" Came a muffled voice from somewhere inside it.
"Yes," Snape said crossly. "Now."
With a sigh, the helmet floated over to the suit of armour and placed itself back on.
"What do you think you are doing, Crouch?" Snape hissed.
"How did you know it was me anyway?" Asked the all too familiar voice of Barty from under the invisibility cloak.
"I don't know many other people other than those meddlesome Weasleys who would waltz around with an invisibility cloak and a helmet on.
"I have got this on for a reason," Barty said. "The cloak, that is."
"What?" Snape asked.
"I'm, well..." Barty hesitated. "I'm out of polyjuice potion."
"You mean your not Moody at the moment?" Snape asked.
"No," Barty replied. "I'm me. But I have the second year in half an hour, so I'd appreciate some more polyjuice, if that's all right."
"Yes, yes, fine," Snape said. "I'll get you some. You really are the absolute worst person for this job. How on earth did you get it?"
Barty shrugged.
"Is this all a big joke to you?" Snape snapped.
"Pretty much," Barty replied.
Snape shot him a scathing look. Barty suppressed his sniggers as the potions master swept off in what he probably thought was a menacing way.
Barty was left on his own.
"Another half hour left," he said thoughtfully to himself. "But what to do to kill time?"
He picked up the helmet and put it on.
"Let's go and scare some first years," he said with a smirk, and stalked off.
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BTW, thank you to everyone who gave me the information about Thanksgiving. If you want to read the chapter I wrote about it, it's up on my SOUE fic. I found all of it really interesting. Thanks guys!
Reddy.