Cael crouched beside the small, pillow-sized opening beneath the One-Eyed Witch statue, eyeing the dark tunnel beyond with quiet suspicion. The narrow passage sloped sharply downward, vanishing into shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly into the unknown.
"Well," Cael muttered, gripping his wand tighter, "this looks perfectly safe."
Fred and George snickered behind him.
"Come on, braveheart," Fred teased. "We'll be right behind you."
Cael rolled his eyes, raised his wand, and whispered,
"Lumos."
A warm, pale glow blossomed at the tip of his wand, pushing back the shadows just enough to reveal rough stone walls and a low, ancient brick ceiling. The tunnel smelled faintly of damp earth and dust, cool air whispering through like the forgotten breath of some old secret.
"Lovely," Cael sighed. "A claustrophobic nightmare."
Still, with cautious steps, he crawled forward, his wandlight illuminating the uneven floor ahead. The further he went, the quieter the world above became, replaced by the faint scurrying of rats and the distant, rhythmic drip of water echoing down the narrow space. The tunnel twisted left and right, some sections so tight Cael had to duck even lower.
Behind him, Fred's voice floated down.
"First secret passage nerves, eh?"
George chimed in,
"Don't worry, it's only mildly terrifying the first time."
As they walked, they came upon the skeletal remains of small animals scattered along the floor. Fred, ever the mischief-maker, stooped down, poking at one of the brittle bones before picking up an entire animal skeleton and tossing it toward Cael with a wicked grin.
Cael recoiled, frowning.
"Okay, stop doing nasty things. You'll make yourself sick."
George waved off the concern.
"Don't worry—there's always Madam Pomfrey. She'll patch him up in no time."
Cael shook his head, stepping over the remains carefully.
"Still doesn't mean you should be touching these things."
The twins only laughed, continuing along the tunnel while making spooky noises and cackling, their amusement echoing through the cramped space.
After several minutes of crawling, the tunnel finally began to widen, sloping upwards. Cael extinguished his wand as faint light seeped through the cracks of old wooden planks above.
Pushing gently, he lifted the hatch and peered around.
To his surprise, they had emerged directly into the basement of Honeydukes, the legendary sweet shop of Hogsmeade. The room was stacked high with crates and shelves filled with sugar-dusted delights, rows of glass jars brimming with colorful candies, Chocolate Frogs hopping lazily inside their boxes, and racks of shimmering Fizzing Whizzbees buzzing faintly in the glow.
Fred and George scrambled out behind him, brushing dust off their clothes with practiced ease.
"Well, lads," Fred whispered, eyes wide with mock reverence, "welcome to paradise."
Before they could sneak upstairs, a warm voice called down from above.
"Who's there?"
An older witch with rosy cheeks and curly silver hair peeked down the steps, wiping her hands on a candy-striped apron. Her sharp eyes twinkled with both amusement and suspicion as she spotted the twins and Cael.
"Oh, some naughty children sneaking out of Hogwarts at this hour? What are you doing here, boys?" she asked, arching a brow.
Fred grinned sheepishly.
"Evening, most beautiful young lady—we're simply here for a little… village visit."
The woman laughed softly, stepping down the stairs.
"That's Madam Flume to you, cheeky boy. You lot using the tunnel like that girl with the pink hair? You'd better be buying something. No sneaking around for free."
Cael blinked in surprise.
"You… know about the passage?"
Madam Flume winked.
"'Course I do. My husband's family has owned this place for generations. You think students only just found that tunnel? Please… It's been here longer than most of you have been breathing. Happens every year—older students sneaking through, buying sweets, sneaking off on secret dates…" Her gaze swept over the trio. "Though, I must say, it's my first time seeing little ones like you using it."
She patted Cael's shoulder.
"Go on, but tradition says you buy something—consider it the toll for using our little secret."
Fred held up his hands in surrender.
"Relax, we're paying customers tonight."
They browsed the shop properly this time, filling small paper bags with Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, warm, sugary Pumpkin Pasties, and a few Acid Pops that made Cael eye them suspiciously.
At the counter, Madam Flume smiled fondly as they paid.
"See? Much better when you're not sneaking around like criminals."
With their treats secured and coins spent, the trio slipped out the front door into the snowy streets of Hogsmeade. The air was crisp, tinged with chimney smoke. The whole village glowed beneath lantern light, snowflakes drifting lazily from the dark sky like confetti.
Cael's heart quickened as he stepped out onto the cobbled street. It was just as the books had described, just as he remembered from the films—the beautiful, whimsical village tucked away in J.K. Rowling's world brought to life before his very eyes. For the countless time since arriving at Hogwarts, he marveled at the surreal truth: he was living the dream of millions, walking the pages of the story that had enchanted the world.
Fred gestured grandly to the snow-dusted road ahead.
"Alright, tour time. You, mate, get the full rundown."
George pointed across the street.
"That there's The Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta runs it—best Butterbeer you'll ever taste. She's a legend. Half the blokes at Hogwarts have a crush on her, and more than a few grown men come here just for a glimpse."
Fred chuckled.
"I remember once, we found a drawing of her face on Percy's notebook. We were having a good laugh at it when our youngest brother, Ron, spotted it—snatched it right up and showed Mum."
George burst into laughter.
"Mum saw it, nearly choked laughing. She put the drawing back in Percy's notebook and warned us not to tell him."
Fred smirked.
"Of course, Ginny was young, couldn't keep a secret. She told him during dinner a few nights later. Poor Percy turned red as a Howler and sulked for three days straight."
Cael chuckled.
"You two are evil, you know that?"
They passed a crooked little shop with shimmering displays in the windows.
"Zonko's Joke Shop, our future favourite place," Fred declared, eyes sparkling. "It's closed now, but mark my words—one day, we'll own a place just like it."
Further along, they paused outside a dim, run-down pub, its sign swaying gently in the cold wind. Outside, a few drunken patrons loitered, muttering under their breath.
Fred pointed with mock solemnity.
"The Hog's Head Inn. If you're looking for shady dealings, illegal trades, or secret meetings, that's your place. Find the barman—pay him enough, and he'll point you in the right direction."
George snickered.
"Rumour is, the owner's in love with a goat. Keeps loads of them. Still single, though—can't imagine why."
They shared a laugh as they wandered further down the snowy street, pausing before a building with dark windows and an eerie atmosphere.
"The Shrieking Shack," George announced dramatically. "Most haunted place in Britain. They say, back when You-Know-Who was a student, he killed loads of Muggle-borns around here. Some say their souls haunt the place still. You could hear the screams at night…" He paused. "Used to, anyway. Doesn't happen much these days."
Cael's eyes swept over the village—the snowy rooftops, glowing windows, bustling pubs, and odd little shops. It felt like stepping into a forgotten storybook, filled with curious corners and whispered secrets.
"Not bad," Cael admitted, biting into his chocolate frog. "Hogsmeade's got its charm."
Fred threw an arm over his shoulders.
"Welcome to the good life, mate."
George handed him a small, wrapped package of Honeydukes' finest.
"And next time, we visit Zonko's properly. Worth every sickle."
The three boys disappeared into the snow-dusted streets, their laughter echoing through the crisp winter night, as their adventure continued.