Weasley Twins

On Wednesday morning, Zhang Wen received the approval result forwarded by Professor McGonagall.

The physical training proposal had been approved.

Dumbledore had written a comment on the last page of the proposal: "A highly creative educational reform. I recommend keeping the intensity under appropriate control to ensure student safety. Also: I would like to try running around the lake myself, but my knees probably would not allow it. —A.D."

Zhang Wen looked at the remark about knees, unsure whether to laugh or sigh.

Dumbledore was the sort of person who always added something unserious to serious matters.

In any case, the physical training now had official backing. If Lucius Malfoy wanted to make an issue of it again, he would have to challenge the headmaster's decision directly. With his current political leverage, he was not yet in a position to confront Dumbledore head-on.

Zhang Wen put away the approval documents, feeling quite pleased.

"The plan passed," he told Artoria.

"Then the training intensity can be increased."

"...I meant the physical training has been officially approved, not that we should increase the workload."

"Official approval means there are no lingering concerns. No lingering concerns means it can be carried out according to normal standards."

"Your so-called 'normal standards' are knight apprentice standards. Those are not normal."

"That is the minimum standard."

Zhang Wen gave up arguing.

There were no classes that afternoon. Zhang Wen decided to take a walk around the castle and check whether the mirrors he had hung earlier had developed any problems.

The mirror in the fourth-floor corridor was intact. The old wizard in the portrait was still grooming his hair in front of it, apparently having made it a habit.

The two on the third floor were normal as well.

The second floor—

Zhang Wen had just reached the corner of the second-floor corridor when he heard a burst of strange laughter.

It was not ghostly laughter. It belonged to living people, and it was very familiar.

He rounded the corner and saw Fred and George Weasley.

The Weasley Twins were crouched in the corridor before a device that looked like a modified bucket. A pipe was attached to the bucket, with the other end shoved into a crack in the wall.

"What are you doing?" Zhang Wen asked.

The twins looked up at the same time, revealing two identical grinning faces.

"Professor Zhang!" said the one on the left—probably Fred. "We're conducting a scientific experiment."

"What experiment?"

"Testing the transmission efficiency of Dungbombs through enclosed pipes," said the one on the right—George.

Zhang Wen glanced at the pipe shoved into the wall.

Pipes.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Where does that pipe lead?" He did his best to keep his voice calm.

"No idea." Fred shrugged. "We found this entrance on a map of the castle's pipes we stole from Filch's office. This pipe seems to connect to the girls' bathroom on the second floor."

Zhang Wen's mind raced.

The Weasley Twins were studying the castle's plumbing system. And the Basilisk moved through that very system.

If the two of them happened to be beside the wrong pipe at the wrong time—

"Put it away," Zhang Wen said.

Fred and George exchanged a glance.

"Professor, we were only having a bit of fun—"

"I said put it away." Zhang Wen's tone did not change, but something unyielding had entered it.

The twins clearly sensed that something was wrong. Though they were the most unruly students in the school, they knew when to take the hint.

Fred dismantled the bucket device, while George pulled the pipe out of the wall.

"Are you taking points?" Fred asked.

Zhang Wen thought about it.

"No points deducted," he said. "But I need you to do something for me."

The twins' eyes lit up at once. No points deducted, with conditions? That was exactly the kind of deal they loved.

"Do you have a map of the castle's plumbing system?"

Fred pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket—not the Marauder's Map, but another ordinary map covered in dense lines of piping.

"Borrowed from Filch," George said.

"Stolen," Fred corrected.

"Borrowed indefinitely."

Zhang Wen took the map and gave it a glance.

It showed the distribution of the main pipes throughout Hogwarts Castle. Sewage pipes, ventilation ducts, heating pipes—all intertwined into an immensely complicated network. No wonder the Basilisk had been able to move freely through those pipes without anyone discovering its existence for centuries.

"I'm borrowing this map," Zhang Wen said.

"No problem." Fred waved generously. "But Professor, what do you need a plumbing map for?"

"Teaching research."

"What kind of teaching research requires a sewage pipe map?" George asked with genuine curiosity in his voice.

"You don't need to know."

Fred and George looked at each other and tacitly decided not to press further. They might have been mischievous, but their instincts were sharp. If a professor seriously wanted a plumbing map, there had to be an important reason.

"All right," Fred said. "But Professor, in exchange—"

"What?"

"Could you tell Filch that we replaced the lock on the third drawer in his office? The key he uses now won't open it."

"Why should I tell him?"

"Because if he finds out himself, he'll investigate every student one by one. If you tell him, he won't suspect us."

Zhang Wen stared at the smiling red-haired pair and gained a profound understanding of why McGonagall got a headache every time the Weasley Twins were mentioned.

"I won't clean up after you," he said. "But I won't report you either. Fair?"

The twins nodded in satisfaction.

"Oh, right." Zhang Wen stopped them as they turned to leave. "How has your sister Ginny been lately?"

Fred and George's expressions both changed.

It was not obvious, but Zhang Wen caught it.

"Ginny?" Fred scratched his head. "She's doing all right, I suppose. She's a first-year, just arrived."

"We haven't really paid much attention," George said, a trace of discomfort in his voice. "She stays in the girls' dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, so it isn't very convenient for us to go looking for her. Besides, she's always been independent—"

"She isn't independent," Fred suddenly said.

George looked at him.

"She isn't independent," Fred repeated, his voice softer. "She just doesn't want us to worry. She's been like that since she was little. There are seven children in the Household, and Mum couldn't keep up with all of us, so Ginny learned to sit quietly by herself without making a fuss. But that isn't independence. That is—"

He did not finish.

Zhang Wen waited a few seconds.

"You should pay more attention to her," he said. "She's your sister. Even if it's just talking to her a little more in the common room, or letting her sit beside you during meals in the Great Hall."

The twins fell quiet for a moment.

"You're right," George spoke first, unusually without a smile. "Have we been neglecting her too much?"

"It isn't neglect," Zhang Wen said. "It's taking things for granted. You think she'll naturally be fine at Hogwarts, just as you were back then. But everyone is different."

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I'll go talk to her tonight," he said.

"I'll go too," George said.

"Don't be too abrupt," Zhang Wen reminded them. "She might find it strange—two brothers who have never paid attention to her suddenly coming together to fuss over her. Take it gradually."

"Professor, we may be unreliable, but we do know how to cheer up our little sister." Fred's smile returned, but this time it was different from before. There was a hint of seriousness in it.

The two of them left.

Zhang Wen stood in the corridor, looking at the plumbing map in his hands.

The Weasley Twins.

In the original story, they had been pure comic relief, responsible for chaos and laughter. But beneath their prankster exterior, they were both incredibly clever and deeply affectionate. The joke shop they later opened became one of the magical world's most successful entrepreneurial ventures. Fred died in the final battle—that was one of the most heartbreaking deaths in the entire original story.

Zhang Wen did not want to alter the distant future too much. He was not even sure whether he had the ability to.

But at least this semester, he could make Fred and George pay more attention to their sister.

That required no grand plan.

It only required someone to remind them.

At dinner, Zhang Wen noticed a new grouping at the Gryffindor table.

Fred and George were sitting beside Ginny.

They did not make a big spectacle of it. They simply moved over naturally with their plates. Fred poured Ginny a cup of pumpkin juice, while George gave her the largest chicken leg.

Ginny looked utterly bewildered.

"Why are you sitting over here?"

"Just changing seats," Fred said. "It was too noisy over there. Lee Jordan was trying to catch peanuts with his mouth. He failed seventeen times, and it was a tragic sight."

"We needed a quiet corner," George added.

Ginny looked doubtful, but she did not ask further questions. As she lowered her head to eat, the corners of her lips lifted slightly.

Only a little.

But they had definitely lifted.

Hermione sat across from Ginny. Seeing the twins join them, she raised an eyebrow slightly. Her gaze crossed the crowd and fell on Zhang Wen at the staff table.

Zhang Wen gave her a faint nod.

Hermione returned an almost imperceptible nod.

The Gryffindor social network was expanding.

After returning to his office, Zhang Wen spread the plumbing map across the desk.

Artoria set down her book and walked over.

"Where did you get this?"

"The Weasley Twins. Don't ask where they got it."

Artoria did not ask. She bent over and studied the map carefully.

"This main pipe runs from the seventh floor all the way down to the basement." She traced the line with her finger. "There is a branch on the second floor connecting to the girls' bathroom area."

"This is the Basilisk's main route," Zhang Wen said. "It leaves the Chamber of Secrets, enters the main piping system through the underground pipes, and can then reach any floor of the castle."

"Where are the exits?"

Zhang Wen marked several points on the map.

"The toilets on every floor are connected to the pipes. Besides that, sinks, drains, and even some old ventilation ducts could be exits."

Artoria frowned.

"There are too many exits. There is no way to seal them all."

"That's why we won't seal them," Zhang Wen said. "We only need to know where it might emerge. In the original story, the Basilisk's attacks were mainly concentrated on the second and fourth floors—because those floors have the most pipe exits and are close to the students' main activity areas."

"Your mirrors happen to cover those two floors."

"Right. But as you said, mirrors are not enough. That is why the students' handheld mirrors are a supplementary line of defense." He thought for a moment. "Also, we can use this map to do something—mark the high-risk areas where the Basilisk might appear, then focus on them during daily patrols."

"I'll patrol," Artoria said. "You're already exhausted from teaching during the day. I'll handle the night patrols."

"Don't you need to sleep?"

"A Servant's body does not need much sleep. Four hours is enough."

Zhang Wen knew that was not entirely true. Artoria was no longer in her Servant state; her body had materialized, so in theory, she should need rest just like an ordinary person. But her constitution was indeed much stronger than normal, and losing a few hours of sleep would not be a problem for her.

"Don't overdo it," Zhang Wen said.

"I am not overdoing it."

"You get up at five every morning to give Neville Longbottom extra training, help me teach during the day, train the Golden Trio in the afternoon, and still patrol at night. Your schedule is fuller than Dumbledore's."

Artoria looked at him.

"As a knight—"

"You're not a knight," Zhang Wen interrupted. "At least, not in this world. You're my partner. Partners need to look after each other. One person cannot shoulder all the work."

Artoria opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Zhang Wen realized his tone might have been a little too harsh.

But he had no intention of taking it back.

Artoria had once told him, "You don't need to carry everything by yourself." Now he had to return those same words to her.

They were silent for several seconds.

"I can patrol every other day," Artoria finally said.

"Every three days," Zhang Wen bargained.

"Every other day."

"Every two days."

"Every other day. That is my bottom line."

Zhang Wen looked at her face, which showed no sign of yielding.

"Deal."

He could not win. He never could.

After marking the high-risk areas on the plumbing map in red ink, Zhang Wen folded it up and put it in the innermost part of a drawer.

"Right," he recalled something, "Fred and George have already started paying attention to Ginny. At dinner today, they sat beside her."

"Good progress," Artoria said.

"Hermione, Fred, George. And if Neville Longbottom can serve as a positive example for her—Ginny's support network is taking shape."

"Is there still enough time?" Artoria asked.

Zhang Wen fell silent.

That was the most crucial question.

Everything they did was meant to weaken the diary's control over Ginny as much as possible before the Chamber of Secrets incident erupted. But the diary's timetable was in Tom Riddle's hands, not theirs.

"I don't know," Zhang Wen said honestly. "All we can do is try our best."

Artoria nodded.

She did not offer empty comfort like, "Everything will be fine."

A knight did not make promises she could not guarantee.

But when she reached the door, she looked back.

"Come running for physical training tomorrow morning too."

"What?"

"Partners need to look after each other. That includes physical fitness. You haven't trained systematically in far too long."

"I—"

"Every other day. That's my bottom line."

Zhang Wen resigned himself to his fate.

Retribution had come far too quickly.

He should not have used the word "partner" just now. Artoria learned far too quickly—not only book knowledge, but even the art of throwing words back at people.

Gawain and Lancelot had probably been kept in line like this back then.

Zhang Wen's sympathy for the Round Table Knights deepened once more.