“Not until Montague reappears, and that could take weeks, I dunno where we sent him,” said Fred coolly. “Anyway… we’ve decided we don’t care about getting into trouble any more.”
“Have you ever?” asked Hermione.
“Course we have,” said George. “Never been expelled, have we?”
“We’ve always known where to draw the line,” said Fred.
“We might have put a toe across it occasionally,” said George.
“But we’ve always stopped short of causing real mayhem,” said Fred.
“But now?” said Ron tentatively.
“Well, now—” said George.
“—what with Dumbledore gone—” said Fred.
“—we reckon a bit of mayhem—” said George.
“—is exactly what our dear new Head deserves,” said Fred.
“You mustn’t!” whispered Hermione. “You really mustn’t! She’d love a reason to expel you!”
“You don’t get it, Hermione, do you?” said Fred, smiling at her. “We don’t care about staying any more. We’d walk out right now if we weren’t determined to do our bit for Dumbledore first. So, anyway,” he checked his watch, “phase one is about to begin. I’d get in the Great Hall for lunch, if I were you, that way the teachers will see you can’t have had anything to do with it.”
“Anything to do with what?” said Hermione anxiously.
“You’ll see,” said George. “Run along, now.”
Fred and George turned away and disappeared into the swelling crowd descending the stairs towards lunch. Looking highly disconcerted, Ernie muttered something about unfinished Transfiguration homework and scurried away.
“I think we should get out of here, you know,” said Hermione nervously. “Just in case.”
“Yeah, all right,” said Ron, and the three of them moved towards the doors to the Great Hall, but Harry had barely glimpsed the day’s ceiling of scudding white clouds when somebody tapped him on the shoulder and, turning, he found himself almost nose-to-nose with Filch the caretaker. He took several hasty steps backwards; Filch was best viewed at a distance.
“The Headmistress would like to see you, Potter,” he leered.
“I didn’t do it,” said Harry stupidly, thinking of whatever Fred and George were planning. Filch’s jowls wobbled with silent laughter.