Chapter 205. The Weasley Twins Being Hunted
"Who on earth was that just now?" Fred asked in a low voice as he tore along the shadowy corridor, glancing sideways at George while he ran.
"I don't know, but it definitely wasn't Snape!" George replied with certainty.
Although Snape was, in their minds, a loathsome old bat, they had never seen Snape show the look that man had just now. That man seemed genuinely intent on killing them. The icy glint in his eyes made their hearts thud wildly. If they had reacted a little slower just now—if they had been a step slower—they would likely have become a meal for that three-headed monster.
Still shaken, Fred finished his thought and asked, "Where did that weirdo pop out from? What's his relationship with Snape?"
George opened his mouth to answer when all of a sudden, hurried footsteps sounded behind them—"Snape," eyes bulging, had caught up. His wand swung in his hand, turned in a circle, and a jet-black spell—dark as ink and almost blending into the surroundings—shot out at speed.
Fred hurriedly shoved George aside. The beam streaked between the two of them and hit the floor not far ahead, leaving not the faintest trace. But Fred and George's nerves pulled taut. From that spell, they felt an extremely dangerous aura, a chill that seeped into their bones. They swore that was absolutely an evil piece of Dark Magic. That hateful weirdo absolutely wanted to kill them!
Catching sight of "Snape's" wand lifting again from the corner of his eye, Fred and George scrambled up from the floor and sprinted flat out. And all the way, they shouted, "Murder! Murder! Help—someone, a professor wants to kill someone!"
Their shouting seemed to have enraged "Snape," or perhaps made him tense. In an instant, several spells streaked down the corridor. Cold sweat poured off Fred and George. They ran with heads down and dared not shout again, for fear of further provoking the man behind them and making him even more deranged.
No one knew how long had passed when a voice drifted up from below the staircase, hoarse and unpleasant, like wind passing through a torn sack.
"My dear, did you hear that? It sounds like someone's tearing about upstairs—must be those two again. This time I'll definitely catch them!"
"I'm going to give them detention, and it'd be best if I can get Dumbledore's permission to let me use those lovely bits of kit!"
"Only then will they remember the rules! Behave themselves! Stop tearing about the castle in the middle of the night so I can get some proper rest!"
As the hoarse voice fell, several meows followed at once.
"Filch!" Fred and George's eyes went wide with delight. For the first time ever, they were actually glad to run into Filch. By instinct, they turned, meaning to run towards Filch's direction, but after just two steps, they realized something was wrong.
Filch was a pure, one-hundred-percent Squib, without a trace of magic to him. He couldn't even cast the simplest Scouring Charm, never mind fight another wizard! If they drew that terrifying weirdo behind them over there and Filch, not knowing the truth, barked a few angry words, the man might very well kill him!
Filch might be detestable and forever threatening to flay them as punishment, but he only ever said it—he had never actually done it. If they really got him killed, their consciences would never rest. They might even end up laying flowers and shedding tears in front of Filch's gravestone. Just imagining the scene was dreadful. Fred and George made up their minds on the spot—better they die than let such a thing happen.
So they smartly wheeled round and sprinted with all their might in the direction away from Filch, fleeing like mad from two nightmares at once.
"Snape" gave chase in silence, swift and sure. The three of them pounded along the corridor, and the portraits on the walls were jolted awake, eyes wide as they stared blankly at the pursuit. Blazing spells flashed now and then, briefly driving back the darkness of the corridor, though none struck the Weasley twins. At least it spared them the danger of tripping because they couldn't see the way.
"You won't get away!" Filch's voice came from behind again, seemingly closer than before. "I can see the pair of you now!"
"How's he running so fast today?" Fred cast a hasty glance back and panted as he spoke.
"Maybe he's had some sort of stimulus," said George. "But what I'm worried about now is that that man might turn back and kill Filch first..."
"Damn it!" Fred said furiously. "Never thought there'd be a day we'd worry about Filch's life and safety!"
As they rounded a corner, George looked at the figure that was almost shaken off behind them and said through gritted teeth, "No helping it—we'd better slow down!"
"Ah..." Fred sighed and nodded. "We can only hope right now that we're more tempting to that man than Filch is."
The two of them slowed their pace and ran on, glancing back every few steps, but "Snape" failed to appear for a long while—there wasn't even the sound of footsteps.
"This is bad!" George skidded to a stop with a hiss. "Don't tell me Filch's been caught by that man—come on, we've got to go back and check!"
Grave-faced, Fred answered at once, spun on his heel, and, together with George, carefully trotted back the way they had come. But they hadn't gone far when a tremendous force came from the side like an iron clamp, seizing their arms and making them stop.
"Who's there?" Fred called, full of wariness, his voice trembling. His wand came up, ready at any moment to unleash his most powerful spell.
"Me, Duncan!" Duncan said in a low voice. "What are you two doing, tearing back and forth along the corridors at this hour?"
Fred and George exchanged a look and let out a breath in unison, then rattled off at great speed, "Duncan, go—quick—this place is dangerous!"
Hearing the urgency in their voices, Duncan—while invisible—knitted his brows and asked doubtfully, "Dangerous? What danger?"
Talking over each other, Fred and George rapidly gave Duncan a brief rundown of everything that had happened.
"So you're saying there's a fake Snape who tried to steal a treasure on the fourth floor, but you spotted him, so he wanted to kill you to silence you."
"But he chased for ages without catching you. Then Filch turned up, that man vanished, and you suspect he's gone to kill Filch?"
Duncan rubbed his chin. He was puzzled; even after running through the possibilities in his head, he still couldn't think who might have taken on Snape's appearance.
"Exactly!" said Fred. "Don't waste time, Duncan—go call the other professors. We'll go back and find Filch!"
"That's enough!" Duncan grabbed the Weasley twins, who were about to leave. "Calm down. That weirdo you mentioned may already have gone."
"What? No way. How do you know?" George's eyes went wide as he fired off three questions in disbelief.
"I've just come from over there. I did see Filch—he's storming this way in a towering rage; that's how I found you. But I didn't catch so much as a shadow of that weirdo." Duncan had barely finished speaking when Filch's furious bellow, mixed with meows, came rolling towards them.
Duncan shrugged and said, "Hear that? Filch is already here—I'm not lying to you."
Catching sight of the shadow that had appeared at the far end of the corridor, Fred hastily lowered his voice and said, "Duncan, don't just stand there—make us invisible, quick!"
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