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Just recently, the Weasley twins had accidentally stunk up a library book with a foul odor and gotten caught red-handed by Madam Pince when they tried to return it.
Naturally, they were immediately kicked out and slapped with an official ban from the library for the rest of the term.
But the two of them were completely obsessed with developing their prank items. How could they just stop doing research?
They had no choice but to sneak in.
Which explained why they were acting so incredibly shady right now.
Richie glanced at the identical redheaded boys and kept walking deeper into the stacks without saying a word.
Twins, huh...
"Oh, wait. Is that... Harland?"
"The Seven-Pointed Star from Ravenclaw?"
Watching Richie walk past, the Weasley twins exchanged a meaningful look.
Before long, Richie found the exact book he needed. Just as he turned to leave, the twins stepped out and blocked his path.
"Hey, Harland. I'm George Weasley."
"And I'm Fred Weasley."
"We've got a business proposition. You in?"
A shakedown? Extortion? Protection money?
Richie raised an eyebrow. "What kind of business?"
"We're developing a brand-new magical item."
"Once we perfect it, it's going to sell like crazy!" Fred and George patted their chests, brimming with absolute confidence.
Richie just shrugged. "And if I'm not interested?"
To his surprise, the twins just scratched their heads, looked at each other, and stepped aside.
"Oh. Alright, then. See ya."
"We'll just ask someone else."
Richie looked at them, completely confused. Seeing that they weren't going to try anything else, he started to walk away.
Right on cue, the twins' overly dramatic sighs echoed behind him.
"Man, if worse comes to worst, we'll just have to hand-copy everything right here!"
"But that means our master plan to take revenge on Peeves for the whole school is going to get delayed!"
Richie stopped dead in his tracks.
Revenge on... Peeves?
He turned slowly, looking back at the twins. "Did you just say you're going after Peeves?"
Seeing the subtle shift in Richie's expression, the twins instantly knew—he had definitely been messed with by the poltergeist, too.
Their faces turned dead serious. They flanked Richie, throwing their arms over his shoulders, and dragged him back into the shadows between the shelves.
"Peeves is constantly messing with people."
"And he absolutely loves picking on students when they're alone."
"We know exactly how helpless that feels."
"So, we've designed a magical item. We call it the Dungbomb. You smash it, and it releases a stench so utterly horrific that it'll send Peeves running for his life."
"The only problem is, the current prototype is flawed. The casing is too fragile, the stench isn't concentrated enough, and the residue is a nightmare to clean up..."
"So we desperately need to research Dungbomb 2.0, and we're severely short-handed!"
Listening to their stereo sales pitch, Richie rubbed his chin.
Dungbombs?
It sounded like a solid concept. At the very least, it was way more dignified than carrying actual magical creature crap around in his pockets.
"What exactly do you need me to do?"
"Check out books for us!" George answered instantly.
Richie blinked. "Why don't you just check them out yourselves?"
The twins offered a sheepish laugh and quickly explained their glorious library ban.
However, they swore up and down that if Richie helped them out, they'd treat the books like pure gold. Absolutely no weird smells this time.
Richie finally got it. No wonder they were hiding back here looking like criminals—they were terrified Madam Pince would spot them.
He thought it over for a second. "I can check the books out for you. But in exchange, you have to show me these Dungbombs."
The twins exchanged a hesitant look. The project was still strictly in the R&D phase. They didn't really want to show it off yet, partly to protect their intellectual property, and partly because they didn't want to get roasted if it looked stupid.
Sensing their hesitation, Richie dropped the ultimate bait.
"I've got some Galleons. I'm willing to provide some 'additional funding' for your research."
It was a blatant financial bribe. But Richie didn't care; he was highly invested in getting payback on Peeves. Plus, shifting the dynamic to "investor" would make it a lot easier for the twins to accept his involvement.
Sure enough, the moment money was mentioned, the twins' eyes lit up like fireworks.
"Why didn't you just say so?!"
"Follow us!"
They took exactly one step before freezing in unison.
Fred spun around, digging a crumpled piece of parchment out of his robes and shoving it into Richie's hand.
"Oh, right. Richie, we still need the books."
"Here's the reading list. We'll wait for you outside."
Richie took the list and nodded. "Deal."
A few minutes later, books in hand, Richie met up with the twins outside the library. He followed them as they navigated deep into the castle.
Fifth floor, an abandoned classroom.
The twins walked up to a solid stone wall in the corridor and tapped a specific brick.
A second later, the brick sank inward. They pushed against the wall, revealing a hidden door.
"The castle is packed with abandoned rooms like this."
"If you ever need a hideout, we can definitely hook you up," they explained as they pushed the door open.
Richie followed them inside.
Living up to its name, the room was cramped, dusty, and incredibly chaotic.
A few battered oil lamps hung from the ceiling, casting a dim, flickering light. The perimeter was crammed with broken desks and chairs. In the center of the room, a few functional desks had been pushed together, completely covered in bizarre materials and half-finished projects.
It was a literal underground sweatshop.
The Weasley twins, however, looked incredibly proud of it.
They led Richie to the main workbench. Sitting right in the middle was a metal box about the size of a desk drawer, covered in a mess of incomprehensible tubes and connection ports.
"This is a 'vacuum cleaner.' Our dad, Arthur, salvaged it from the Muggle world."
That first sentence alone made Richie's eyes widen in shock.
"A vacuum cleaner?"
Hearing such an aggressively modern, technological term inside the magical walls of Hogwarts gave him massive whiplash.
The twins beamed, proudly showing off their dad's handiwork.
"Yep, a vacuum cleaner! But Arthur completely modded it."
"Now it runs entirely on magic."
"And we reversed the airflow. Instead of sucking dust in, it aggressively blasts air out. We're using it to project the stench from the metal tank."
"The best part is, we cast an Extension Charm on it! Don't let the size fool you—this little box can hold several cubic meters of literal crap!"
The mental image of "several cubic meters of feces" immediately popped into Richie's head, and he instinctively recoiled.
A dung beetle's absolute dream.
"Let us give you a quick demo!" George said, practically bouncing with excitement.
Richie swallowed his disgust and nodded. Honestly, he was morbidly curious to see how this magical-biological weapon actually worked.
Grinning like absolute maniacs, the Weasley twins stepped up to the table and prepped the machine.