Twins’ Tall Tales: How the Bloody Baron Died

It was late, but the Weasley siblings were all too giddy to sleep. The twins were home from their first year at Hogwarts and were recounting the tales to their eager younger siblings.

“There are lots of ghosts,” George started. “Everywhere! They just float around.”

“But there is this one ghost, the Bloody Baron,” Fred interjected, “who has blood all down his front.”

“Why?” Ginny piped up curiously.

“Should we tell ‘em, Georgie?” Fred turned to his twin.

There was a matching mischievous twinkle in their identical eyes.“Can they handle it?”

“What is it?” Ginny was rocking in her seat now.

“The story,“ George’s voice dropped, “of how the Bloody Baron died.”  Fred blew out the candle that provided the main source of light in the twins’ cramped bedroom.

An eight-year-old Ginny inhaled sharply, quivering with excitement. Next to her, Ron was rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. “Come off it,” Ron said, trying to mask his own interest. “You don’t actually know that!”

“Au contraire,” Fred sang.

“They say the Baron died just a few years after Hogwarts began.”

“Wait, he attended Hogwarts?!” Ginny exclaimed.

“Sure, but that’s not the most exciting thing,” George waved dismissively. The old bed springs creaked under him. Each twin sat on his bed, their siblings sitting cross-legged on the floor between them. “He was on a post-graduation trip when he and some fellow wizards got lost. They stumbled across the cave where It thrives, hiding in the dark.”

Ginny’s hair had fallen from its long braid and covered one eye, making her look even more terrified. “What thrives?” her words spilled out.

“It,” the twins breathed in unison.

“An ancient legend claims that there is a colorless creature that lurks in the canopy of the achromatic rainforest. No one knows quite what happened next, but there is wild speculation. Lee Jordan claims that the Baron found a lake and stopped to rest when the beast emerged. It reached out and grabbed the Baron, swallowing him.”  Fred and George simultaneously grabbed at their siblings, making ghostly moaning sounds.

Ron screamed, but Ginny laughed and asked, “Is that where he died?”

“Oh, he wishes.”

“Maybe some of him did,” amended George.

“The locals still speak in hushed tones about the Englishman with eyes larger than Galleons who stumbled his way into town. He was covered in a glowing goop and shivering in the blazing summer heat.”

“But alas,” Fred sighed dramatically. “He returned home. Lee claims it was the sight of him that drove Ravenclaw’s daughter away and killed her mother.”

“But we know why,” added George. “It was the amulet he wore!”

Fred threw up his hands and shouted. “I almost forgot!”

“Never forget!” George told his brother in mock dismay. “He went into the cave unadorned and came out wearing a golden amulet with a purple stone in the center…”

The twins gasped and pointed at Ginny. “Ju – Just… like that!” They exclaimed in false fear.

Ginny clawed at her neck, prying the necklace off and throwing it with a strangled yelp. “That’s a bloody lie,” contradicted Ron.

“Then how do you explain the day he died?” Fred asked, his hair shimmering in the moonlight that streamed through the window.

“He had been withering away for weeks,” George’s voice came out in a raspy whisper, as if he, too, were disappearing before their eyes. “One day, he ran screaming from his room, ripping out his hair. Deranged, he Apparated just outside the Hogwarts gates, where his rigid body was found, ice cold.”

Fred jumped in, their voices blending cacophonously. “The amulet had melded to his chest, the skin boiling beneath his robes. A single dagger, the length of my forearm, protruded from it…” – Fred held out his arm to demonstrate – “… the silver blade piercing the center of the amulet and his chest.”

“You can still see the blood glistening eerily, the only solid thing about the silver apparition.”

A silence fell over the room. Ginny and Ron jumped when the ghoul in the attic started moaning.

“Ah, well, you’ll see it soon enough!” Fred said in cheery demeanor at odds with the story.

George yawned as he leaned back on his bed. “You lot best be getting to sleep… if you can manage it.”


Did you enjoy this story? Check out the other stories in this series!

Twins’ Tall Tales: The Haunted Chamber

Twins’ Tall Tales: The Nefarious Painting

Twins’ Tall Tales: Troll Fighting

Twins’ Tall Tales: The Man-Eating Squid

Twins’ Tall Tales: My Professor is a Vampire!

Twins’ Tall Tales: Watch Out for Mrs. Norris

Lindsay Docken

I first learned about the Boy Who Lived when I was six years old and became hooked. Despite being a proud Gryffindor, I think I most relate to Newt Scamander because I'm also introverted and work with animals. Unfortunately, though, I've yet to come across any Nifflers!