Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing J.K. Rowling's magical world of Harry Potter. It all belongs to her.
Enjoy! Please see AN at the end.
Students were rushing through the stone passageways and to their respective common rooms as another day of classes at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came to an end. However, two boys, both alike in nearly every way, had other ideas. A freckled nose and a pair of brown eyes peaked out from around the corner. The flickering light from the candles lining the dungeon hallways made his red hair look like fire.
"Here they come," said George.
Marcus Flint was talking with the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, closely followed by a few of the other members. The twins had spent a week trying to figure out how to get back at Flint for cursing Charlie off of his broom after the last Quidditch match. Flint's only punishment was a ten point loss for Slytherin courtesy of Snape's appeal to the Headmaster.
"Ready Fred?" the boy asked his doppelganger.
"Ready George," Fred said, holding up a bulging violet bag.
Fred untied the bag and pulled out two dungbombs. George grabbed another two, putting one of them in his pocket. With a silent count that only the twins could hear, they chucked them at the far wall, directly in front of their targets. The dungbombs exploded in a cloud of chocolate colored dust. It coated the Slytherins, who were unable to avoid the blast. Flint had doubled over, gagging and gasping for fresh air and finding none. The putrid smell had caused Keeper Miles Bletchley's eyes to water so much that he couldn't see and walked directly into a suit of armor. Bletchley tripped and fell over the helmet, causing Terence Higgs, who had been holding both his breath and his nose, to stumble and fall on top of him.
As Fred and George watched the theatrics from a safe distance away, they spotted their arch-nemesis coming around the corner. The hacking coughs and sound of the falling armor had drawn Argus Filch to the scene.
"What's going on here," Filch growled as he approached the Slytherins. The cloud of dust from the dungbombs had now settled and coated the boys and the hallway in a fine brown powder.
"Oh, no. Old Argie's coming!" Fred whispered to George, and the two began to retreat down the hallway to avoid punishment.
Several minutes later, the twins found themselves in an abandoned bathroom a few floors above the dungeons. They were slightly out of breath from their sprint to safety, but couldn't keep the smiles off of their faces.
"Did you see Flint's face! I wish we had a camera!" laughed George as he washed his hands.
"I know! Bletchley was even better! I knew he was slow, but who knew that he could do such a good impression of a blind troll!" Fred replied from a nearby sink, rubbing his hands together under the warm water in an effort to remove the brown stains left behind from the dungbombs.
Suddenly, the bathroom door squeaked open and an ugly cat walked in. "Look what we have here, my sweet," Filch exclaimed to Mrs. Norris. "And they still have the stains on their hands to prove it! Extra fish for you tonight! You have a great sense of smell."
Fred and George were frozen in place as Filch smiled, showing his crooked teeth. "Now I've got you two. Oh, I've been waiting for this day since the Welcoming Feast."
"Let's go," Filch growled, as he grabbed both boys by the arm and pulled them towards his office.
"Now get in and don't move. I've got to get some more forms for this one," he said as he shoved Fred and George into the dusty room and closed the door.
Filch's office was exactly as they remembered it. Papers were piled in untidy stacks all around the room. Chains adorned the walls, all clean and in easy reach of the desk, as though ready to use at any moment. Some cleaning supplies were in a far corner. A strangely shaped piece of rusted metal was draped across the top of two equally rusted, large filing cabinets.
"What do ya suppose this is used for?" George said, pointing to the metal object.
"I dunno, Forge. Let's take a closer look," Fred responded as he strode towards the cabinets. As he and George peered at the object, a faded filing label caught their eye.
"Confiscated and Highly Dangerous," Fred read aloud with an excited gleam in his eye.
Filch returned at that very moment. "Get away from there you mangy mutts!" You've got enough detention in your future," he growled as he hobbled behind his desk, a stack of parchments in one hand and a red ink bottle in another. "Ole Dumbledore won't let me use the chains anymore, but he didn't say anything about disembowelment. You two need to be taught a lesson! I've got hours of cleaning to do on those hallways! I'm tired of you two filthy little beasts! You'll be in detention until you graduate, mark my words!"
George glanced at Fred during Filch's tirade. With a quick nod and a wink, George slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out the remaining dungbomb, and tossed it on Filch's desk. The dungbomb went off as Filch was taking a breath of air.
"Bloody hell," cursed Filch, coughing and waving his arms in an effort to clear the disgusting dust and attack the twins. "I'm gonna ring your necks!"
At the same time, Fred ran, wand in hand, to the drawer marked "Confiscated and Highly Dangerous." With a shout of "Alohamora," Fred opened the lock, pulled the drawer open, and grabbed the first item he could reach.
"Come on! Let's get out of here!" Fred shouted over Filch's profanity-laced diatribe describing the many ways he was planning to torture the twins. George yanked open the door and the twins dashed out, running and not stopping until they were safely inside of the Gryffindor common room.
The stench following the twins also found its way into the room. The other Gryffindors held their noses and Percy glared at them with a look that told them they would be receiving a Howler from
home soon. The twins dashed up to their dormitory and peeled off their robes, tossing them into a pile on the floor. "So," said George. "Wha' did you get?"
"I dunno," replied Fred. "Looks like a ratty old piece of parchment, but I'm sure we'll figure it out." Smirking at each other, they hid the parchment behind an area of torn fabric inside George's trunk and headed to the showers.
AN: Please review and let me know what you think! Any suggestions or ideas are welcome. I'm in medical school, so update times will vary based on my workload and exam schedule. I'll be continuing this fic as a Severitus as soon as I'm able to, so Harry and Snape will make an appearance in the next chapter. Also, I don't have a beta, so if anyone's interested, let me know!