The Game - Round 1 - Creatures and Plants Options

[Department_of_My...]

Welcome to the first round of The Game -

Creatures and Plants

Stoats – The first one of you to solve the riddle below wins a $20 gift card from Whimsic Alley!

Ferrets – Solve the riddle below to receive your writing mission for this round.

Ferret Prizes for this round are Norbert and the Lightwedge. First Place winner gets first choice.


Riddle Solving and Writing are open from June 4th – 13th, voting will be from the 13th until the 17th.




Think you know the answer?
Then send a PM to Department_of_Mysteries
If you answer wrong, you may try again.
Good Luck!

(Please keep out of that corridor on the fourth floor!)

[chad13]

When Alohamora's Not Enough

It had been a right wonderful idea, (one of the few right wonderful ideas the pair had ever received from their mother), and it felt quite satisfactory for a welcome back prank.

“Blow up a toilet!” Fred laughed.

“It’s genius!” George replied.

“Once it’s done we really should send mum that ‘we got here safely’ owl and thank her.”

“She really knows what she’s doing.”

“Mum’s just an untapped talent, that’s all,” Fred grinned at his brother. “Now, where to start ...” Pulling a shabby (though that’s really putting it mildly) looking piece of parchment from his robes, he unfolded it quickly and mumbled, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The Marauder’s Map revealed itself as the twins grinned at one another. It never ceased to amaze them, the pure genius that was the map; one day perhaps they too would become legendary within the Hogwarts underground for such brilliance.

“The kitchen’s clear,” George grinned over Fred’s shoulder.

“Always thinking with your stomach.”

“Oh course!” George laughed. “Besides, those ickle house elves are so very winsome , they’ll be glad to see us! We’re their best customers.”

“Winsome?” Fred asked, as the duo trooped off down the hall.

George shrugged. “I heard mum telling dad how charming Percy was, and dad said he was a wonderful boy, but he’d never go as far as to call him winsome.”

“So it’s the best compliment we could pay anyone!” Fred said, catching on. “Winsome, or Un-Percy-like.”

The pear giggled as Fred and George approached, and the portrait swung forward without even having to be asked. The kitchen looked rather empty for mere hours after an opening feast. A lone elf, who the boys knew only as Hobbes, came skidding forward.

“Hobbes!” Fred smiled at the elf. “Have a nice summer?”

“Quite pleasant,” the elf replied quickly.

“Have a lot of work did you?” George asked.

The elf's eyes brightened. “Yes sirs, very busy indeed.”

“Well that’s great, you wouldn’t happen to have any left overs from this evening by chance would you?”

Within minutes the duo were sitting comfortably helping themselves to extra tarts and butterbeer.

“It seems a bit quiet down ‘ere Hobbes,” Fred said, his mouth full.

“Where is everybody?” asked George.

“Is very busy young sirs,” Hobbes replied. “Much to be done, cooking, as well as cleaning, tis a large castle you's know.”

Fred and George exchanged looks. There were too many house elves at Hogwarts, the absence of a few for cleaning purposes usually went unnoticed. Fred and George knew for a fact there were no huge messes yet to be set right, they hadn’t caused any. Fred again withdrew the map from his pocket and began to scan the paper with an apt eye.

“What ...”

“The third floor,” said Fred. He watched his brother’s eyes gleaming across the table at him.

“Is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death!”

“Brilliant!” Fred cried, breaking a plate accidentally with his fist.

A large concentration of elves, (really dots to the twins’ eyes), were all milling about on the stairs near the off limits corridor.

“This year’s turning out to be the most exciting so far!” said Fred.

“Toilet seats, Harry Potter, painful death ...”

“And it’s only the first day!” finished Fred.

The two quickly thanked Hobbes for the snack and apologized for the plate before sprinting back out into the hall and up the stairs.

It was very late, but that was not unusual for the pair of Weasley and Weasley, and they reached the stair case undetected. Staring upwards to the flight above, the duo could just make out the squeaks of some rather strained house elves.

“What do you reckon they’re up to?” whispered Fred.

“What do you reckon is in there?” George asked, motioning to the enormous box with which they were struggling.

Fred simply shrugged. There had never been anything particularly dangerous about the third floor corridor before. It hadn’t been particularly interesting, but it had never been dangerous either. It was old and dark, always lit by no more than a torch or two. There was never anything down there, just an old trap door no one had ever been able to open, or so the stories said.

Fred and George had spent many a night in their first year attempting to break in, but had not had any luck in the slightest. It was that corridor that had really turned them onto the Weird Sister’s band back in the day. After one of their midnight escapades with the sealed door they’d returned to the dorm to hear Lee’s bedside table singing a soft rendition of the Weird Sisters' When Alohamora’s Not Enough. It had been too perfect, and it had been a match made in music heaven ever since.

Now however it seemed there was, or was going to be, much more than a trap door down the nothing corridor, and Fred and George wanted in. Turning to face one another the brother’s cast disillusionment charms, (which they had taught themselves most conveniently in their second year), and headed silently up the rest of the way for a better look.

The box was moving slightly as the elves passed through the door, (which Fred, unnoticed, graciously held open for them), and into the torch light. It took them ages, but eventually the group reached the hall's end with the trapdoor and released the box.

Fred could just make out the shimmer that was George standing next to him. The two waited with bated breath for the house elves to open the box, or more importantly, the trap door itself. The box remained closed however, as did the door, and the house elves trooped off without another word, looking relieved.

Fred waited a few extra moments before removing the disillusionment charm, George did the same.

“They did all that to lug this thing up here and they don’t even look inside?” George asked.

“I give those little buggers a lot of credit, they do follow orders.”

“So, we’re obviously not barred from being here by a box,” George began.

“Obviously.” Fred finished.

“Then, dear brother, I suggest we look inside! We should know what we’re up against!”

Fred smiled at his brother. “What ghastly thing holds our painful death in its hands.”

The twins headed cautiously towards the box before them, wands drawn and at the ready. It looked harmless enough, and Fred and George were known to be reckless, but stupid they were not. Fred reached out his hand and attempted to pry up the corner. It would not budge. With a glance at eachother the two began bombarding the box with every incantation they knew to blow it open. It wasn’t until George, sitting out of breath on the floor some minutes later, began singing, “When Alohamora’s Not Enough,” that the lid slid open.

“Dumbledore,” Fred smiled.

Though they scarcely admitted to respecting anyone, Dumbledore was one person the twins did respect whole heartedly. Not simply for his power, or genius, but for his sense of humor.

Approaching slowly the pair exchanged final glances before George lumosed his wand, and they caught sight of the contents. “What ...”

“It’s a plant,” said Fred.

“No explosion? No dragon? No three headed dog?” George asked the box, disappointed.

Fred crouched down and prodded the thick green stem, the plant moved. “Look!” Fred's face lit up.

George crouched next to him. “Wait a second ...” his mouth dropped.

“Devil’s Snare!” they exclaimed simultaneously.

It was difficult to be sure in the dark, but if Fred and George knew any herbology, this was it. Devil’s snare, a strangle hold killer plant, the one thing they’d have liked in the Burrow’s garden. They had never seen any up close; it was unpredictable stuff, and often deadly. They did know it by picture though, they'd scanned it nearly a hundred times in their text books.

“So Dumbledore’s been doing some interesting gardening over the summer ...” began Fred.

“And he can’t just keep this stuff in the green house, can he?” continued George.

“I think it’s illegal to have in this sort of quantity,” remarked Fred.

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” George grinned.

“After all, Dumbledore’s swell enough ...”

“For a teacher,” finished George.

“I do believe he’s bought our silence,” said Fred. He grinned broadly at his brother, a flash of malevolent glee passing between them at their own rash plan. “Diffindo,” whispered Fred.

Cautiously, never touching the plant with his bare skin, Fred pocketed the tiny severed leafy stem. Looking at his brother he knew this was the beginning of something special. This was better than any toilet they could have blown up, (though they would get to that later), better than any adventure thus far- this was the beginning.

That tiny bit of plant was the beginning of their genius, and Fred and George knew it. You could only do so much with a wand, but with magical creatures like doxies, or dragons, and plants like Devil’s Snare, the possibilities were endless. They would be legends yet, Fred and George, and they knew it. Destiny was realized that first night of their third year as the two boys tiptoed quietly back to Gryffindor Tower.