Silence stretched thick and heavy between us.
Professor McGonagall stood in the corridor, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Behind her, Draco Malfoy looked smug as ever, his arms folded across his chest. He had won. He had caught us.
And we were finished.
She exhaled sharply, as if reining in her temper. "I expected better from all of you," she said, her voice calm—but dangerously so. "Out of bed at this hour? Wandering the castle grounds in the dead of night? What were you thinking?"
No one spoke.
I could feel Ron tensing beside me, Hermione fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, Rose shifting her weight. None of us dared to look at each other.
Draco cleared his throat. "Professor, if I may—"
"You may not," McGonagall cut him off sharply.
Draco blinked. "But—"
"If they are out past curfew," she said coolly, "then so are you, Mr. Malfoy."
His smirk faltered.
"But I was—"
McGonagall's piercing gaze silenced him. "I do not want to hear excuses." She turned to face all of us, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Detention. All of you."
Ron groaned audibly. Hermione let out a tiny gasp. Even Malfoy looked horrified.
"B-But Professor, I was reporting them!" Draco protested. "I—"
McGonagall raised a hand for silence. "You left your dormitory. You were outside the castle after curfew. You will be punished accordingly."
Draco opened his mouth again, then shut it, his face slowly turning red.
McGonagall straightened. "Twenty points from each of you."
The words hit like a physical blow.
Twenty each. That meant—
Eighty points from Gryffindor.
I could already hear the outrage from our housemates.
Malfoy, still reeling from the fact that he had also been punished, recovered just enough to smirk in our direction. "Well, at least Gryffindor got the worst of it," he muttered under his breath.
McGonagall ignored him. "You will all report to Mr. Filch for detention tomorrow evening."
That was it. No further questioning. No interrogation.
And she didn't even ask about the dragon.
She didn't believe it.
A cold weight settled in my stomach. Malfoy had been so sure he had caught us red-handed. And yet, without proof—without Norberta right there—McGonagall had simply assumed we were just sneaking around like reckless students.
I risked a glance at Rose. She met my gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line, as if reading my thoughts.
We had gotten away with it.
Sort of.
McGonagall gave us all one last, disappointed look before speaking again. "Return to your dormitories. Now."
None of us dared to argue.
We turned, dragging our feet back through the darkened corridors.
Draco stalked ahead, his usual arrogance dimmed by the fact that he had also been punished. Ron, still grumbling under his breath, shot him a glare. "Serves him right."
Malfoy ignored him.
Disaster Strikes Gryffindor Tower
The moment we climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, all conversation ceased.
Every pair of eyes turned to us.
The usual warmth of Gryffindor Tower—the cozy fire, the laughter, the camaraderie—was replaced by something much worse.
Cold, crushing silence.
It lasted for a solid five seconds.
Then—
Fred Weasley let out an exaggerated, dramatic gasp and staggered backward, clutching his chest like he'd been stabbed. "Tell me it's not true," he choked. "Tell me you didn't just lose us eighty points in one night."
George whistled lowly, shaking his head. "Even we've never done that. I feel kind of insulted, actually."
Lee Jordan leaned forward, looking torn between horror and admiration. "What exactly did you do?"
"We didn't do anything!" Ron groaned, flopping into the nearest chair and burying his face in his hands.
"Didn't do anything?" Percy repeated, his face growing redder by the second. "You lost eighty points!"
"I meant—" Ron started, but Fred cut in.
"Wait, wait—" He held up a hand, eyes narrowing. "I just need to clarify something very important."
George leaned in beside him, nodding seriously. "Critical information."
Fred turned to us. "Did you, or did you not, do something worthy of losing eighty points?"
"…Uh," I hesitated. "That depends on what you consider worthy?"
Fred and George exchanged a glance before bursting into identical grins.
"Oh, this is brilliant," Fred declared, rubbing his hands together. "We thought we had the record, but you lot have just raised the bar to a whole new level."
"I know!" George said, looking delighted. "I mean, what even happened?"
"Did you set something on fire?" Fred asked.
"Release a swarm of pixies in Snape's office?" George added.
"Oooh, no, wait—did you accidentally flood the dungeons?"
Ron groaned. "We didn't flood anything—"
"Then what did you do?" Lee Jordan asked.
Percy stepped in before we could answer, his expression livid. "It doesn't matter what they did! What matters is that they've cost Gryffindor any chance at winning the House Cup! You do realize how many points that is, don't you?!"
"Oh, Percy, relax," Fred waved a hand. "This is great news."
Percy sputtered. "Great news?!"
"Yes! If these four lost eighty points, that means whatever they did was absolutely legendary," Fred said, grinning.
George nodded sagely. "One for the history books."
"Not to mention," Fred continued, "the professors will never suspect us of anything now. We can practically commit all the mischief we want and still come out ahead."
George turned to Percy, looking thoughtful. "Would you say this is the single biggest point loss Gryffindor has ever had at once?"
Percy clenched his fists. "That is not the point!"
Fred turned to me, eyes shining with excitement. "Okay, spill. What happened?"
I sighed. "We… got caught outside after curfew."
George blinked. "That's it?"
Lee frowned. "That doesn't sound like an eighty-point offense."
Ron rubbed his face tiredly. "Yeah, well, Malfoy was with us too, and McGonagall was not in a good mood."
That made Fred and George freeze.
"…Wait, wait, Malfoy lost points too?" Fred asked slowly.
"He was the one who got us caught," Rose muttered. "But McGonagall took points from him as well."
For a moment, the twins just stared.
Then—
They howled with laughter.
"Oh, this is fantastic," Fred wheezed, clutching his stomach.
"Malfoy lost twenty points?!" George cackled. "That's beautiful."
As Percy raged and Gryffindor fumed, Fred and George continued celebrating. And I—exhausted, frustrated, and dreading the days to come—could only shake my head.
Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.
But at least the twins were having fun.
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Author's Note - For everyone complaining about small things like no details, someone complaining that there are unnecessary details, this is my first time writing and, I have also told that I am using ChatGPT, if you don't want to read, then don't read don't spam.
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