Life is like eating a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans with your eyes closed, every second is a surprise.
For example, just as Allen finally got the task items he needed and was trying to behave himself, the door to the caretaker's office swung open.
The two who entered wore faces so familiar yet hard to tell apart, even to soone who knew them well. Right now, those two (or was it one?) familiar faces looked utterly dejected, until they spotted Allen, when surprise flickered, then relief softened their expressions.
No need to say more: it was the Weasley twins.
Allen never thought he'd witness the first (perhaps?) ti this iconic pair showed their love-hate dynamic. Weirdly, it felt kinda… scandalous.
At that mont, Allen thought, "This month of detention really isn't so bad." He wasn't sure if he'd just witnessed history.
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
Do you know what turns your most embarrassing mont into a triumphant one?
A good friend.
In this world governed by that principle, friends share countless monts of cringe-worthy, ridiculous acts. Then, years later, when you et again, a knowing smile erases the dust of ti from those mories and the friendship.
That's why many high school friendships run deeper than college ones, it's the "fifth iron law of life": having ssed up together.
Anyway, back on track.
The once downcast twins turned from worried about punishnt the mont they saw Allen into:
"Yo, mate, how co you're here too?"
Of course, with Filch's stern gaze behind them, they limited themselves to exchanging looks only.
Soon, they learned the aning of "sa fandom, different fate."
After a scolding, they were sent off to clean an empty classroom.
But maybe because Filch had other matters, after assigning the task he left elsewhere.
Of course, the work had to be done, and the supervisor was Allen.
So, once Filch was gone, the twins started their persuasion.
"Allen, you're not just going to stand by and watch, are you?" Fred shrugged.
"Yeah! This classroom's huge enough to play Quidditch in!" George added.
Allen stayed unmoved, his expression and gestures lacking conviction, unsatisfactory! Keep going with your act!
"Oh my God, Allen, can you really let us spend the whole weekend scrubbing this huge, freakishly big place?"
Heh, co work with one day, you're right, I'm gonna spend the whole day here too!
Only then did the twins realize a problem, Allen had just been sentenced to detention for taking down a Slytherin single-handedly.
And here they were, casually talking about spending the whole weekend on chores…
That was almost as brave as telling a pixie you're short.
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
In the end, seeing that Filch hadn't returned for a long ti and seed to be letting it slide, Allen finally stepped up to help the twins. If he'd gotten involved sooner, maybe even he'd have gotten in trouble, and considering he still had half a month of detention ahead, he wisely chose to let them work it out first.
With one thorough cleaning, the task beca surprisingly easy. Amid the twins' "Allen, you're the best!" mutterings, the classroom was spotless.
This ant not only the twins' liberation but Allen's as well, just rember not to run into Professor Snape, who was still annoyed and might stir up so trouble.
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
Night fell again. Allen, reluctant to sleep, was the last person on the common room sofa.
As he sprinkled Floo Powder, the fireplace flas turned a bright green, and Allen was certain this was a one-way ticket. Not just anyone could enter or exit the school without Dumbledore's approval.
No matter, he had Return to Base.
Waiting on the other side of the flas was a long-missed friend:
The secondhand bookstore owner.
"I say, young man," he murmured sleepily, wearing pink bubble-sleeved pajamas that made him look harmless, oddly so, as that attire clashed with his usual image. But Allen didn't underestimate him, his wand was always within easy reach. At this mont, the man casually picked his nose with one hand and said, "Your raven woke early, said you had a big deal. I hope it's worth staying up so late, ah~!" Then he let out a big yawn.
Despite the owner's odd mixture of ineptitude and charm, Allen felt he'd made the right call, no one could run a secondhand bookstore in pri Diagon Alley without having so serious connections. And Allen knew this uncle was well versed in trading contraband.
Allen slowly took out half the bottles, arranging them on a relatively clean table.
The trade items instantly caught the owner's interest. He bent down to examine the liquid carefully, then popped a cap and sniffed it, instantly waking up from his yawns.
"Venom from an eight-eyed giant spider?" he murmured, then nodded in approval. "Good stuff. One pint, I'd say? Still fresh. rlin above, this is liquid gold!"
"Fifty Galleons a pint," Allen said slowly.
"What? Are you joking? Fifty Galleons for this treasure?" The man blinked. "Sounds like it ca from shady sources?"
"When did profits ever need a clean origin?" Allen shrugged.
"True, true. When has fifty Galleons ever needed a story? Kid, I was right, the age you look isn't your real age." The owner chuckled. "Alright, that's four bottles. That'll be 200 Galleons. Pleasure doing business." With a wave of his wand, a cloth bag flew from a corner, pouring out golden Galleons.
"No, no, it should be 400 Galleons. The other four bottles will be delivered by Valor tomorrow." Allen forced an innocent smile.
"Interesting, kid." The owner paused, then laughed heartily as more Galleons dropped out. "Not exactly by the book, but I'm happy. Take it, kid, I'll be waiting for your parcel tomorrow!"
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
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