Reverse Rescue
It all started with a new invention of the twins: the Sugared Plums of Destiny. The idea was simple: once swallowed, the sugared almonds triggered a random surprise. This could range from a simple change in skin color to uncontrolled levitation for a few seconds. In theory, everything was supposed to be temporary and harmless. In practice... Things did not go quite as planned.
Fred and George, determined to impress Harry with their adventurous spirit (and incidentally to be admired), had organized a public demonstration during lunch. In front of a captivated crowd, they each took a sugared almond, and swallowed it with a confident smile. And everything went horribly wrong. Fred suddenly began to rise into the air... then continued... and went on again. In a few seconds he had reached the top of the vaults of the Great Hall and was floating dangerously near the enchanted candles. George, however, was not so lucky. His body seemed to become totally intangible, like a ghost. Panicked, he walked across the Slytherin table before disappearing under the floor with a cry of surprise.
A horrified silence fell over the room. "Damn, what the hell have you done again?!" exclaimed McGonagall, already massaging her temples as if she could feel her future migraine. Hermione rose hastily. "Something has to be done! Fred could get stuck up there, and George... George might..." But before anyone could react, Harry had already jumped on the Gryffindor table. "You are idiots!" he thundered before taking out his wand.
In a reflex that no one saw coming, Harry threw a Wingardium Leviosa at himself and quickly rose into the air, charging towards Fred. Once he reached her, he grabbed her forcefully. "Stop fidgeting, you moron, or we'll both crash!" he growled, holding him firmly. "Ooooh, Harry, you're holding me in your arms, I might faint from emotion." Fred tried with a charming smile. Harry glared at her. "If you continue, I'll let you go." Fred fell silent immediately. After guiding (or rather forcing) Fred back down, Harry turned his attention to George. He pointed his wand at the ground, muttered a Finite Incantatem, and a second later, George reappeared with a loud crash, his body tangible again, but his head buried in a decorative pumpkin.
A silence fell over the Great Hall. Then... "Well, then... Shall we do it again tomorrow?" McGonagall closed her eyes as if she hoped to disappear.
The problem with Harry Potter was that he liked pranks – as long as they didn't put anyone in danger. And then, the twins had just done just that. His hair stood on end, and his magic seemed to crackle around him. Her emerald gaze fell on Fred and George, burning with reproach. "But what's wrong with you?!" he roared. Fred and George exchanged glances. "Uh..." "No, seriously!" Harry continued, furious. "You could have killed yourself! George could have been stuck between two dimensions! Fred, you could have crashed like a Slouch dropped from a tower! Did you think for a second before doing that?!" The twins swallowed.
Harry wasn't often angry, but now... he looked like Lily Potter. McGonagall looked as if he had seen a ghost. "That's exactly how Lily was yelling at James," Flitwick whispered to Lupin, stunned. Lupin seemed to be in the midst of an existential crisis. "Harry shouldn't yell at Weasleys like Lily yelled at James," he stammered. McGonagall looked at him in disbelief. "Remus, are you still denying the obvious?" "Absolutely." Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of implosion. "It's... It's desperate. He's completely unconscious!" she moaned as she sat down, her head in her hands. Ron shrugged. "It's Harry. What did you expect?"
A few days later, despite their crushing defeat, Fred and George were more determined than ever. "It's a matter of time," Fred said, shaking his head. "He almost let me go from the ceiling, but I saw a sparkle in his eyes," George agreed. "A spark of exasperation, perhaps," Lee Jordan scoffed. The gamble continued. McGonagall sighed. Hermione sighed. Lupin was still in full parental denial. And Harry? Well... He still didn't understand.
"Bravado is often the mask of fear, and fear, the mask of courage." — François de La Rochefoucauld