"This way, go this way." Fred was running, his heart pounding, blood boiling; the game of hide-and-seek with Filch was far more thrilling than he had imagined.
Filch had just slipped through a secret passage to cut them off, but Fred wasn't worried. Before Filch could get ahead to intercept them, the twins had already darted in the opposite direction, one step ahead.
Filch would never be able to outmaneuver them in advance—and besides, his stamina wasn't nearly as good as theirs.
The real trouble was Madam Norris. The cat was faster, sharper, and far more difficult to shake off than her master. She was constantly watching, ready to alert Filch at the slightest movement. Fred longed to give her a swift kick, but he knew it would only enrage Filch further.
"I hear footsteps again. How is Filch faster than us?" George complained breathlessly.
"Don't worry, he can't catch up. This way!" Fred's knowledge of the castle was nowhere near Filch's, so he relied on the Marauder's Map to keep them one step ahead.
"He's out of the secret passage." Fred chuckled suddenly. "Turn right ahead, down the stairs—we're going to the fourth floor."
"I bet he's furious!" George said cheerfully.
Filch indeed knew countless secret passages, far more than the Weasley twins. But so what? They had the Marauder's Map. Even if Filch tried to intercept them, the twins could simply change direction, leaving him chasing shadows.
Fred slowed his pace, caught his breath, and glanced at the map. "Filch has stopped. He's completely bewildered."
"Actually, this is quite fun—running circles around Filch." George's sleepiness had vanished, replaced by excitement. "We'll brag about this for months."
"Tsk, tsk, annoying first-years, wandering around in the middle of the night." Peeves suddenly bounced out of the trophy room, blocking their way, shrieking with delight.
"Good evening." George raised his hand in greeting. "Filch's cat is chasing us—want to give him some trouble?"
"I'd rather you two get caught," Peeves said, eyes glittering with mischief.
"We won't. Filch is still trying to catch us." Fred shrugged, lifted his wand, and muttered Alohomora, unlocking the wooden door to another hallway.
"Oh, maybe I should tell Filch," Peeves said earnestly. "It's for your own good."
"Then tell him." George closed the door behind them with a careless flick. "But I heard you don't get along. Would you really want to see him in a good mood?"
Fred waved dismissively. "I'll reserve judgment on that."
"Students not sleeping!" Peeves roared suddenly, "Wandering outside the trophy room!"
"Peeves is really annoying," George muttered, his eyelid twitching.
"If he didn't shout, he wouldn't be Peeves." Fred glanced at the Marauder's Map. Filch was rushing toward them at alarming speed.
"Quiet, Peeves."
The twins doubled back, but Peeves lingered in the hallway, unwilling to leave.
"No, you should make Peeves shout louder," Fred mumbled. "At the top of your lungs!"
"As you wish."
Peeves gleefully appeared in front of Fred and shrieked, "Here! Here! Those annoying first-year brats are right here!"
Fred gave Peeves a rude gesture before darting around the corner with George.
"Peeves!"
Moments later, Filch arrived, panting. "Quickly, tell me—which way did they run?"
"You should say 'please.'"
Filch ignored him, determined to follow Madam Norris. His fury was boiling over; the twins had dared to play hide-and-seek with him. Never before had he suffered such humiliation. He would catch them and punish them severely.
"What's going on?" Snape appeared in the hallway, dressed in his pajamas.
"Professor, someone is wandering around at night, and I'm trying to catch them," Filch said through gritted teeth. "Peeves knows who it is, but he won't say."
Snape fixed Peeves with a cold stare. "Who is it?"
"Two annoying Gryffindor first-years," Peeves said sarcastically. "Those brats said you couldn't catch them!"
Filch's face twisted with rage, while Peeves flew off, cackling. He hadn't revealed Fred and George's names.
"Professor, those Gryffindor students must be heading back to their common room. We should intercept them on the eighth floor. There's a shortcut here…" Filch spoke quickly, already plotting.
Snape agreed. He had no qualms about catching Gryffindors and deducting a hundred points.
Meanwhile, Fred and George, heading toward the eighth floor, realized Snape had joined the chase. Fred frowned. "We must get back to the common room quickly."
If it had been only Filch, they wouldn't have worried. But with Snape involved, the situation was far more dangerous. No one wanted to fall into the hands of the Potions Master—especially Gryffindors.
The twins circled around, but when they returned to the eighth floor, the Fat Lady was still absent.
Disappointment washed over them. They would have to keep wandering the castle, dodging both Filch and Snape.
"Oh no, Filch is coming to the eighth floor through the secret passage. We need to hide immediately." Fred, watching the Marauder's Map, felt a surge of panic. He took the lead, running fast.
"Be careful not to get cornered by Snape," George warned.
"I know." Fred's anxiety spiked as he retreated into the hallway. Heading to the seventh floor now would mean running straight into Madam Norris and Snape—a far worse combination than Filch alone.
"There's a room next door. Maybe we can hide there." George pointed to a disused classroom on the right.
"No, we'll be found. Filch's cat is sharper than we thought. We need patience—circle around with Filch and escape through the Hippogriff painting's passage." Fred stopped to catch his breath, realizing the danger was real. His mood soured instantly.