By the time Nolan left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, it was already quite late. The young wizards and witches had long finished their dinner and returned to their respective common rooms to enjoy the first weekend of the term.
The corridors were empty, bathed in the cool glow of moonlight streaming through the tall windows. The long-lost shadows of the evening reinvigorated Nolan, filling him with a renewed sense of energy.
Nighttime Nolan was markedly different from his daytime self. Gone was his reserved silence; instead, he had a spring in his step, hands tucked into his pockets, humming the whimsical tune of The One Hundred and Fifty-One House Elves under his breath as he walked.
His cheerful reverie was interrupted by a harsh, grating voice:
"Who's there? Show yourself!"
Nolan halted and grinned. "Filch? You're too sensitive."
Argus Filch, Hogwarts' irritable caretaker, appeared with his ever-present oil lamp, his bulbous eyes narrowing as he approached at an almost frantic pace. He scrutinized Nolan from head to toe before exclaiming triumphantly, "Out past curfew, are we? I'm dragging you straight to Professor Snape—He'll make sure you're locked in detention for the rest of the week!"
Nolan chuckled. "That won't be necessary, Filch. I just came from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. You know, Professor Von Draugr is my sister. She asked me to stay behind, and we lost track of time talking. If you don't believe me, you're welcome to ask her yourself, though I doubt she'll be very patient about it."
Nolan's nighttime mood was always a good one—so good that he indulged Filch with an unusually lengthy explanation.
Filch glared at him, his sour expression suggesting he'd rather believe Nolan guilty even if the story were true. After a long pause, he finally growled, "If that's the case, stop wasting time and get back to your house! Next time I catch you, it'll be detention for sure!"
With that, Filch stormed off, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
"More ghost-like than an actual ghost," Nolan muttered with a smirk. Shaking his head, he turned, only to find himself face-to-face with two identical redheaded boys.
He blinked, his gaze shifting between the two. "Uh… sorry, are you... Joseph?"
"Oh, no! And here I thought he was trying to figure out which of us is which, but it turns out he's got the name completely wrong!" said one of the twins.
The other added, "Exactly! He's Joseph, and I'm George."
"Nonsense! There's no Joseph here. I'm George, and you're Fred!"
Nolan shrugged casually, smiling. "All right, George and Fred. I think I've got it now."
The twins exchanged a puzzled look.
"George, don't you feel like Nolan's a bit different from before?"
"I was just thinking the same thing, Fred."
Nolan tilted his head slightly, his angelic smile lighting up his face. "At night, I'm full of energy. Maybe this version of me is what a young man should really be like. But what about you two? What are you up to here?"
"Oh! That's right, George! We should totally let Nolan join us!" Fred exclaimed.
"Good idea! We could use a little help from the Prince of Slytherin," George agreed enthusiastically.
Nolan blinked, confused. "Uh, sorry, the what of Slytherin?"
"Prince!" the twins chorused.
"Nolan, you were brilliant!"
"During Defense Against the Dark Arts class!"
"You were the only one!"
"They said you knocked the magical armor flat!"
"Ravenclaws and Slytherins were talking about you nonstop at dinner!"
The twins took turns talking so quickly that Nolan's head was spinning. He didn't fully understand their point, but he didn't feel the need to. "What exactly do you need my help with?"
One of the twins leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't you think Filch is insufferable?"
"We reckon he's like an old vampire!"
Nolan frowned, slightly offended. "Filch is nothing like a vampire. He's more like a suspicious old werewolf on the verge of retirement!"
"Fine, have it your way," one twin said with mock resignation. The other added, "But we agree that apart from the old bat, Filch is the worst at Hogwarts."
"He's always watching us!"
"Waiting for us to slip up so he can gleefully hand out punishments!"
"And he even uses his cat to spy on us!"
"That mangy Mrs. Norris has caused us no end of trouble!"
"We've got to teach her a lesson!"
"Exactly!"
Nolan couldn't tell which twin was which, but he grasped the general idea. "You're planning to mess with Filch's cat? Are you... planning to kill it?"
The twins gasped, visibly horrified.
"That's far too extreme!" one stammered.
"We want something a bit more... peaceful," the other clarified.
Nolan thought for a moment. "Cats are usually terrified of ghost flames. We could conjure some blue fire to scare her."
"That's brilliant!" one twin exclaimed.
"What are we waiting for?" the other cheered.
The three of them huddled together, whispering excitedly as they carefully navigated the dim corridors, making their way toward Filch's office.
Filch's office was small and dimly lit by a single overhead lamp. Much of the cramped space was taken up by large filing cabinets, which were neatly divided into sections for each of the four houses. Nolan noticed that Gryffindor's section was twice as large as the other three combined.
"Are these records of students who've broken rules? Look, there's even detailed evidence listed here…" Nolan muttered softly, pulling out one of the twins' files. After skimming through it, he gave them a strange look. "Eight infractions in just three days of school?"
"That's fantastic!" one twin said cheerily.
"We'll go down in Hogwarts history!" the other declared, rasping in mock triumph.
"I think you just might," Nolan said, shaking his head. His eyes caught a file labeled James Potter, its drawer noticeably heavier than the rest. "I think I've found your predecessor."
He opened the drawer to find not just an impressive record of pranks attributed to James Potter but also a curious piece of parchment.
"What's this?"
Nolan was examining it when a sudden meow made him freeze.
The twins' eyes lit up.
"It's Mrs. Norris!"
~~~----------------------
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