The Serpent’s Trick
The Gryffindor common room hummed with activity, a familiar symphony of laughter, chatter, and the occasional squabble over unfinished homework. The air smelled faintly of ink, parchment, and the faint woodsy scent of the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. Its orange glow bathed the room in a warm, golden light, making the stone walls glow and giving the wooden beams above a soft, flickering hue. A few scattered candles illuminated the tables and cozy nooks, casting gentle shadows across the room as students relaxed after a long day of classes.
At one of the larger tables near the fire, Harry and Ron sat across from each other, fully absorbed in their wizard chess game. The chessboard was alive with movement, as each piece displayed an animated personality. The knights galloped across the board on their steed-like mounts, and the pawns marched forward, some looking eager for battle, others hesitating with exaggerated, nervous glances. A particularly grumpy-looking pawn grumbled at Ron's last move, while one of Harry's rooks looked deeply offended by the position it had been forced into.
Harry’s forehead creased in concentration, his brow furrowing slightly as he chewed on the edge of his lip. His queen had just been knocked off the board for the third time, and his situation wasn’t looking any better. His remaining pieces were dwindling, and it was only a matter of time before Ron would claim victory. Ron, however, was enjoying himself entirely too much. He leaned back in his seat, resting his hands behind his head, a wide grin plastered across his face. His knight had just leaped over Harry’s bishop in a dramatic, almost theatrical fashion, taking it out of play with a flourish.
"Gotcha," Ron said, his voice full of mock-sympathy as he leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. "Honestly, mate, you really should’ve seen that coming."
Harry huffed and muttered something under his breath as he slid his knight forward, trying to shift the balance in his favour. He knew it was a losing battle, but there was no way he was going to let Ron know that. He didn’t particularly mind the game, but it was one of those things that had always managed to make his palms a little sweatier than he liked. There was something about the intensity of the game—the way Ron played with such enthusiasm, and how his gloating became louder with each move—that made Harry feel a bit more stressed than he should have. And it didn’t help that Ron wore that particular expression on his face, the one that screamed I’m about to gloat in the worst possible way.
As Ron chuckled under his breath and prepared for his next move, Harry felt a sudden sense of relief. It was clear who was going to win this round, but he would be ready for the rematch. He glanced around the room, searching for something to distract him from the inevitable defeat, and his eyes fell on Hermione.
On the other side of the room, Hermione sat perched comfortably in one of the armchairs by the window, bathed in the soft, flickering light of the fire. She had set aside the usual pile of textbooks that seemed to follow her wherever she went, and instead, she was engrossed in something a little more whimsical: a book about magical creatures. A book she had picked up earlier in the week during a break in classes, thinking it might provide a much-needed escape from the more academic texts she usually devoured.
But even her "light reading" had a distinct air of scholarly focus. The book's pages were filled with beautiful illustrations of mythical creatures, ranging from the docile to the dangerous, each sketched in painstaking detail. Hermione had underlined and highlighted entire sections of text, her handwriting flowing neatly between the lines of the book's carefully laid-out pages. The margins were crowded with her usual notes, scribbles of observation and curiosity, and occasional thoughts of clarification for things she hadn’t fully understood yet. Some of the creatures she found fascinating; others seemed to be presented as almost too absurd to be true—yet Hermione knew better than to dismiss anything in the wizarding world.
The book had been a pleasant change of pace for her, though even as she read, her mind was rarely ever fully idle. She found herself thinking back to her earlier classes, considering what she could do to improve on her next assignment or how to approach the upcoming exams. It wasn’t just relaxation, but a calm way of organizing her thoughts for the tasks ahead.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes scanning the page with practiced ease. The book’s subject matter seemed to hold her attention more fully than usual. The creatures described weren’t just fascinating; they were often tied to magical history, obscure legends, and ancient magical practices. It was this sort of connection that Hermione found endlessly fascinating. The more she read, the more she scribbled down notes, underlining new facts and jotting down ideas for later research. Even in moments of supposed relaxation, she couldn’t resist the pull of knowledge, the allure of understanding things better than anyone else.
Though the fire crackled behind her, Hermione remained lost in the words before her, occasionally pausing to turn the page or adjust her reading glasses, which had a tendency to slip down her nose as she read. The whole room seemed to fade around her as she absorbed every detail of the creatures’ descriptions.
Her focus was so complete that, at first, she didn’t notice Fred and George Weasley approaching her from across the room, each carrying that gleam of mischief they wore like a badge of honor. But when Fred’s voice broke through her concentration, she looked up, an eyebrow raised in silent question.
"Alright, Granger," Fred said with an exaggerated grin, leaning casually against the back of her chair as George stepped beside him, both of them clearly bursting with excitement over whatever scheme they were planning. "We’ve got something that’s going to completely revolutionize your study routine."
Hermione sighed, setting the book down with a soft thud. "Oh, no," she muttered under her breath. "What now?"
“We've taken your advice about staying ahead of the game, Granger,” George said, his voice dripping with mock-seriousness, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object with great fanfare. He held up a shiny, perfectly round bronze ball, the size of a Snitch but much smoother in texture, its surface catching the soft glow of the firelight.
Hermione's eyes flickered from the ball to George’s smirking face, her brow lifting in curiosity. “You’ve been studying my notes?” she asked, a hint of incredulity in her tone.
Fred gave a sly wink, grinning widely. “Oh, we’ve got all your notes under careful study, Granger. The twins always like to keep an eye on the expert in any given field.” He twirled the ball in his hands, clearly savouring the moment. “And you, Hermione, are definitely the expert when it comes to magical creatures, aren’t you?”
Hermione couldn’t help the small flush that crept into her cheeks. She wasn’t quite sure whether to be flattered or unnerved by the idea that the twins had been combing through her notes. She knew they had a knack for absorbing information—whether it was for prank purposes or not—but it still seemed a little too… personal. “And what exactly have you been doing with my notes?”
With a dramatic flourish, Fred flipped the ball over in his hands and gave it a quick twist of his wrist. The ball hummed softly, and before Hermione could respond, a small, shimmering image of a serpent appeared in the air above it, flicking its tongue in an eerily lifelike way. It was a graceful, undulating motion, so precise that for a moment, Hermione thought it might actually be a real creature, just magically rendered in the air. The serpent’s form shifted as it slithered, its tail curling in tight coils with a fluidity that mimicked the movement of a real snake.
“Introducing,” George began, voice rich with theatrical flair, “The Serpent’s Trick.”
Hermione blinked, taken aback. The serpent hovered above them, an intricate, almost magical illusion that made her heart skip a beat. “A serpent?” she repeated, momentarily distracted by the creature’s unsettling presence. “What is this, another one of your pranks?”
Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Oh, it's not just any prank, Granger. This here is a low-level confounder. We’ve crafted it to project a lifelike illusion of a dangerous creature—specifically, a serpent—that can be used to distract, disorient, or… frighten someone.” He tapped the ball with his wand, and the serpent flickered, briefly changing shape into a much more venomous variety with glowing red eyes and bared fangs before returning to its original form.
“We thought it might come in handy if you ever find yourself in need of a quick distraction,” George added, his grin never fading. “You know, for dealing with troublesome people who might need a little… scare to keep them in line.”
Hermione watched the serpent with a wary eye, her lips pursed as she processed what they were saying. Despite the cool, calculated way they presented it, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of admiration. This wasn’t just some cheap joke. There was real magic in this device. But that also made her uneasy. It was one thing to pull harmless pranks; it was another to create something that could potentially cause actual harm if used irresponsibly.
“And this has what to do with my notes?” she asked, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair, eyeing them carefully. She hadn’t expected them to involve her academic work—of all things—in their pranks.
“Oh, we’ve done our research,” Fred said, grinning like a cat that had caught a particularly tasty mouse. “We used your notes on magical creatures, Granger. You’ve got all that information about how serpents move—how their magical presence can actually be felt—and we used that to make the illusion feel as real as possible.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows, clearly taken aback by how seriously they seemed to have approached the task. “You studied my notes?”
“Indeed,” George said, tapping the ball with his wand again, causing the serpent to flicker once more, this time taking on a more detailed, venomous form. “We weren’t just throwing magic together willy-nilly, you know. We studied how serpents’ movements have a certain weight to them, how their magic can be felt when they’re near. It’s all in the details, Granger. You should know that by now.”
Fred’s grin widened at the look of surprise that crossed Hermione’s face. “We thought you’d appreciate the effort. After all, you’re the one who knows how important it is to understand the creature before trying to mimic it. We wanted to make it lifelike, not just throw together some silly illusion.”
Hermione’s mouth opened slightly, but she couldn’t find the words to express her surprise. She was caught between feeling oddly touched and frustrated. Part of her wanted to scold them for the reckless nature of such a device—it could easily go wrong, and what if someone used it in a dangerous way? But another part of her, one that she rarely admitted to herself, was impressed. They had actually studied her work. They’d gone through her notes with attention to detail, and created something that wasn’t just a mindless joke. She couldn’t quite believe it.
“So, you’re telling me,” she began slowly, folding her arms, her tone sceptical but laced with curiosity, “that you really put in all this effort just to make a prank that could—what? Terrify someone with a lifelike illusion of a serpent?”
“Well, yes,” Fred said, clearly enjoying the moment. “But we didn’t want it to be too realistic, you know. We don’t want to send anyone into a full-blown panic. We just wanted to, well, create a little shock value.”
Hermione looked at the serpent, its eyes gleaming with an unnerving intensity as it flicked its tongue again. “It’s impressive,” she admitted begrudgingly, “but you should be careful. Someone might take it a bit too seriously.”
“Ah, Granger, don’t spoil the fun!” Fred said, shaking his head. “It’s not like we’re planning to scare the first years. Unless, of course, you plan on using it on us next time you catch us being too mischievous.”
Hermione glared playfully at Fred, though a smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, her eyes narrowing with mock threat. “And I’ll make sure to let you know exactly what I think once I’ve had the chance to test it out myself.”
Fred raised his hands in mock surrender. “Careful, Granger, we wouldn’t want you to get any funny ideas.”
“Yeah, you’d probably outdo us,” George added with a smirk. “Not that we mind a little competition.”
Hermione chuckled softly, shaking her head. “If I didn’t know you two better, I’d almost think you were trying to impress me,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she looked between them.
The twins exchanged a glance, then turned back to her with exaggerated innocence. “Who, us?” they asked in unison, both with feigned expressions of surprise. “Never.”
With that, they gave her one last look—one full of mischievous delight—and began to slip away, disappearing toward the door. Hermione, bemused, watched them go, the floating serpent still twirling in the air above her, its movements so lifelike that it seemed almost real. And despite herself, Hermione felt a small sense of pride—oddly pleased, and more than a little impressed, by their unexpected attempt to impress her.