For some reason, Quirrell didn't bother with George and Fred at all and simply walked off on his own.
Maybe it was Voldemort's orders. The man really knew how to endure humiliation.
Leonard withdrew his gaze and looked at the two celebrating troublemakers.
"By the way, have you two tested the portable mobile swamps you sent me?"
"Of course we tested them," Fred said lazily. "They work great. The portable mobile swamps barely dry out unless something interferes with them. Even the Three-Headed Dog needs fifteen minutes now to disable one."
Leonard immediately understood. These two really hadn't learned their lesson. They actually dared sneak back to the Three-Headed Dog's corridor.
"You two went there again? Not afraid of being bitten? Wasn't last time enough?" Leonard shook his head, silently worrying about Professor McGonagall's blood pressure.
"With more experience comes less fear," Fred said confidently. "Besides, we didn't even go inside. We just tossed the portable swamp in from the outside."
"Yeah, we checked. The Three-Headed Dog can't get out at all," George added. "Relax, we're pros."
"Pros at what, breaking school rules?" Leonard shot back. He straightened and said seriously, "My advice is to stop going there. Just give me the finished products next time. I'll handle the experiments."
Quirrell would be heading there frequently soon. If these two bumped into him, they were practically guaranteed to get caught up in something dangerous.
In public, Voldemort might endure humiliation for his goals. But in a secluded place—like the Three-Headed Dog's room—he absolutely wouldn't let them walk away alive. He'd feed them to the dog without a second thought.
Leonard had invested money in these two, even if it was only fifty Galleons. He wasn't about to let that investment die, and he still wanted that flying gadget they'd promised. He couldn't let these two keel over this easily.
"You're going to test it?" Fred and George's eyes lit up instantly. "You don't mean... the Forbidden Forest, right?"
"Is that really surprising? Aren't you two regulars there anyway?" Leonard rolled his eyes.
"Well... yeah..." The twins exchanged a glance. "But every time we go, Hagrid catches us. We never find anything good. It's not like we're lucky enough to find a unicorn like you did."
"Hagrid knows the edges of the Forbidden Forest better than we ever could. And he has that hound with the insane sense of smell. No matter where we hide, he finds us," George complained. "We don't get it. Even with the Disillusionment Charm, he still spots us."
"Hagrid patrols the forest constantly and hunts there all the time. His tracking skills are top-notch," Leonard said, glancing around at the students passing by. "Come on. This isn't the place to talk."
He led them toward the sheltered area under the courtyard roof. Too many people walked by for this kind of conversation. Leonard wasn't Harry Potter or any other Gryffindor—he didn't discuss secrets at full volume.
The three of them settled against the wall where almost no one ever passed. Even if someone did, Leonard would see them coming first.
"Where were we? Right—Hagrid's tracking. The main problem is that you two are amateurs. You don't think about the traces you leave in the forest. Every mark you leave basically hands Hagrid a map of your entire walking route," Leonard said.
He never underestimated Hagrid. Despite seeming a bit slow, Hagrid had human-leaning blood as a half-giant. He wasn't lacking in intelligence—only too trusting. His skills, however, were impressive. Decades as gamekeeper meant he knew the Forbidden Forest like the back of his hand.
Leonard had walked through the forest countless times, always making sure to destroy any traces he left. No wonder he'd never been caught.
With the Weasley twins' personalities, Leonard doubted they'd ever bother covering footprints or other signs. It was only natural they were discovered.
"So that's why? No wonder he caught us even with Disillusionment when we were hiding up in trees—it was because of that," George said in sudden realization.
"Climbing trees? Standing still would've left fewer traces. Climbing leaves even more behind." Leonard shook his head. "Perfect timing. You two are coming with me to the Forbidden Forest. We'll test the portable swamp, and I'll teach you a few things."
"Really? Let's go!" George and Fred perked up instantly. "Let's leave now—we can still make it back for dinner."
"Keep your voices down. We're breaking school rules, not going on some righteous crusade against the Dark Lord," Leonard said, exasperated. "Come on."
Leonard led the twins quietly out of the courtyard, following the small path toward the Forbidden Forest.
Thick snow covered the stone path, leaving a line of uneven footprints. Anyone seeing them would assume the person who made them hadn't slept for three days straight.
"These footprints are Quirrell's, right?" Fred pointed to the tracks running parallel to theirs, heading the opposite way. "He went into the Forbidden Forest?"
"School rules only forbid students from entering. They don't say professors can't. Why do you care?" Leonard replied.
"Oh, I'm just curious. With his skills, going into the Forbidden Forest is basically suicide, isn't it?" Fred said, and he and George burst out laughing.
"Never underestimate any professor, even the ones who seem awful. Professor Flitwick told me Quirrell graduated from Ravenclaw and used to teach Muggle Studies. Being a professor at his age means he was at least an outstanding student."
Leonard subtly planted the warning—he wasn't letting these two idiots get themselves killed by provoking Quirrell.
"If he's so great, how come his classes are a disaster?" Fred grumbled.
"That just means he has ulterior motives. Bottom line: don't mess with him. Picking fights with professors is trouble no matter the reason. Spare Professor McGonagall the headache," Leonard said.
If Quirrell had decided to pursue them earlier, George and Fred would've already been serving detention and losing a mountain of house points.
Have mercy on Professor McGonagall's poor nerves.
"Uh... fair point," George admitted, finally convinced.
Chatting as they walked, the three soon approached Hagrid's hut at the forest's edge.
"What do we do now?" George whispered instinctively. "Every time we get close, Hagrid's hound spots us."
"And then you try to run, right? Honestly, where do you come up with this stuff? You think you can outrun a hunting dog in the Forbidden Forest?" Leonard sighed. "Watch me."
...
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