The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“What’re you doing here?” Ron and Fred said at the same time.

“Sending a letter,” said Harry and George in unison.

“What, at this time?” said Hermione and Fred.

Fred grinned.

“Fine—we won’t ask you what you’re doing, if you don’t ask us,” he said.

He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Harry glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered.

“Well, don’t let us hold you up,” Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.

Ron didn’t move. “Who’re you blackmailing?” he said.

The grin vanished from Fred’s face. Harry saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.

“Don’t be stupid, I was only joking,” he said easily.

“Didn’t sound like that,” said Ron.

Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly, “I’ve told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can’t see why you would, but—”

“It’s my business if you’re blackmailing someone,” said Ron. “George’s right, you could end up in serious trouble for that.”

“Told you, I was joking,” said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. “You’re starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you’ll be made a prefect.”

“No, I won’t!” said Ron hotly.

George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and grinned at Ron.

“Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later.”

He and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another.

“You don’t think they know something about all this, do you?” Hermione whispered. “About Crouch and everything?”

“No,” said Harry. “If it was something that serious, they’d tell someone. They’d tell Dumbledore.”

Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.

“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked him.

“Well . . . ” said Ron slowly, “I dunno if they would. They’re . . . they’re obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them—when—you know—”

“We weren’t talking.” Harry finished the sentence for him. “Yeah, but blackmail . . . ”

“It’s this joke shop idea they’ve got,” said Ron. “I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They’ve only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it’s time to think about their future, and Dad can’t help them, and they need gold to get started.”

Hermione was looking uncomfortable now.