Not long after Filch was lured away.
A faint gasp of surprise came from Hermione on the ceiling of the right-hand corridor. "Quirinus Quirrell—"
"I knew there was something wrong with him." This time, it was George's smug little voice.
"No wonder he never got angry when we kept pretending to be sick and leaving early. Turns out he was the best actor of all." Fred chimed in.
"Shh—he's coming."
After Vincent spoke, the entire corridor fell silent again.
Cloaked in a robe, Quirrell came around the corner, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
Not even Filch knew there were four figures on the ceiling.
"Tap, tap—" The hard Alder Wand below lightly struck each wall.
Quirrell's gaze remained fixed on the end of the corridor.
That locked door was the goal of his trip.
The Alder Wand lightly tapped the doorknob.
"Click—"
Quirrell went inside.
Floating beneath the ceiling, Vincent tapped the area by his feet with a wand made from the same wood.
Under the faint moonlight, they could barely make out a wooden ladder spanning the corridor from one side to the other, supporting the weight of all four of them.
"We need to hurry." Vincent, standing steadily on the floor, held out his hands from beneath his cloak.
George took a deep breath and jumped down toward him.
After catching the twins one by one, Vincent caught the rope thrown down from above.
Fred bent over. "He should need quite a while to search for whatever he's looking for."
Lying on the ladder, Hermione tied the dye to the other end of the rope.
"If I were Professor Dumbledore, I'd definitely have set up some very difficult traps."
George shuddered. "There wouldn't happen to be some magical creature guarding the door, would there...?"
"Guarding it?" Vincent frowned