The Theory of Magic (Book 1)

21 // Snowballs & Reinventing the Wheel

After several days of languishing in Hogwarts' most hallowed and dustiest of archives, both Harry and Ron had come to think that spending the holiday in the library was a terribly boring thing to do. They both knew that Hermione, had she been there to hear their declaration, would have fainted dead away in shock.

Idling the afternoons and early evenings under Madam Pince's shrewd eye became unbearable the longer the two boys endeavored in their search for Nicholas Flamel. It stood to reason that the wizard should be mentioned somewhere in all those books the Gryffindors pored through, but Ron and Harry found no trace of Flamel; indeed, all they seemed to find for their efforts was a pair of terrible headaches.

"This is pointless," Ron grumbled as he slammed a volume closed—earning a reprimanding word from the watching librarian. "The bloke's not in any of these rotten books!"

Harry sent a wistful look out the window toward the snow sticking on the glass. "Maybe we should wait for Hermione."

"Yeah." Ron perked up. "Bet she'll have the answer in no time!"

It took very little persuasion for them to leave their search behind and to dash from the library, Madam Pince tutting in their wake. Harry and Ron had full confidence in Hermione, telling themselves she'd come up with a whole biography on Flamel by the time she returned from holiday—and if they felt guilty about slacking off, they reminded themselves that no one could find information out quite like Hermione could.

"What d'you think Fred and George are up to?" Ron asked as they made their way back to the common room.

"I dunno," Harry said. No one knew what mischief Ron's brothers could achieve when left to their own devices. They gave the password to the Fat Lady and scrambled through her portrait, only to find the tower empty aside from Percy sitting by the fireplace studying Arithmancy scrolls.

"Oi," Ron said, frowning. Percy lifted his head and caught his glasses before they could slide off his nose. "Where's Fred and George?"

Percy sniffed and scowled, and Harry thought he may have said something petulant if he hadn't decided it wouldn't be worth the row with his little brother. "I suppose they're outside. Something about a snowball fight was circulating through the common rooms earlier."

Ron and Harry exchanged identical grins before running from the tower, the Fat Lady giving off an indignant squawk as they banged out the entrance mere moments after she'd admitted them the first time. They ran all the way to the castle's entrance, managing to avoid any confrontations with foul-tempered Potions Masters, though both boys decided to take the long way around on the second floor to avoid a bored Peeves.

Harry's breath escaped him in white, frigid puffs of air as he and Ron slipped from the main doors and jogged across the blanketed grounds. A brief storm the evening prior had left a generous, pillowy mound of fresh snow over the whole of Hogwarts, and the iron colored clouds overhead had done little to melt off the new ice. Laughter and shouts drifted from the direction of the greenhouses, and as they drew nearer, Harry and Ron saw most of the remaining student body scuffling in the drift, building rudimentary walls and rolling balls together as fast as they could.

Then Harry jerked Ron to the side, saving him from a flying projectile.

"C'mon, I think they're over here...."

They found Fred and George near a stand of trees, half hidden by a grumbling hedge and a bench, guffawing as they charmed snowballs to seek out more and more difficult targets wending through the greenhouse courtyard. Harry had been expecting to find them outside—but he hadn't expected to find them with a professor.

"P—Professor Dullahan?!"

"Yes?" she replied, distracted, ducking when a third year Hufflepuff sent a snowball toward her face. "Oh, Harry, Ron—err, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley! How are you?"