Noticed ⇀ Fred Weasley

crucio

After we finished dancing with Ron for what felt like hours, we walked back over to Harry who was holding the golden egg in his clutches, surrounded by his classmates who watched curiously.

There were fireworks exploding around the room vigorously as we approached the group, and the smell of pumpkin juice and treacle tarts loomed throughout the air.

"Open it Harry!" Lee Jordan yelled as Harry glanced around at the crowd. They seemed to agree, chanting for him to open it.

Harry looked inspired by his friends, and turned the egg over in his grasp so that he could open it.

"He's supposed to work on it on his own," Hermione drawled, "it's a part of the tournament rules."

"Does she ever shut up?" Fred whispered, and I shot him a look.

Harry seemed to ignore his friend Hermione and instead dug his fingernails into the egg, prying it open. We all watched and admired the intricate golden design inside of the egg, but were cut short as the egg let out a loud ear-curdling screech. We all covered our ears in pain and Harry scurried to close it.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed as he clamped his hands over his ears.

"What was that?" said Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee... Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured!" said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," said George. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing... maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry."

"That would be an unholy sight to behold," I snickered.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" said Fred.
Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.

"It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch-"

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed.

"Just my little joke, Neville..."

Hermione took a jam tart. Then she said, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?"

"Yep," said Fred, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. "'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful, get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Hermione said in an innocently casual sort of voice.

"Easy," said Fred, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and-" He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. "Why?"

I knew exactly what she was getting at with her little house elf club. I rolled my eyes but smiled, and said, "She just gets hungry at times. Let the woman eat!"

"Yes, thank you," she agreed, giving me a look that read out how grateful she was.

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.

"Oh, sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all the laughter. "I forgot it was the custard creams we hexed."

Within a minute, however, Neville had molted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in laughing.