“Is there anything you would like to tell me?”
Yes. As a matter of fact, there were plenty of things Minerva McGonagall would like to tell Dumbledore, but there was one slight problem…
“… I can’t talk!” McGonagall thought to herself fiercely. “If I could open my mouth I would have plenty to tell you; but I can’t open my mouth!” Her arms started to fly ravenously, and her cheeks were starting to flush with anger. “First off, I would tell you that Fred and George Weasley are vicious little idiots! It’s their fault I can’t talk; they did this to me! They had no business giving me, their teacher, those horrible candies in the first place. I suppose I should’ve looked at the wrapper before eating it, but how was I suppose to suspect them of giving me something like that? I thought that they were just trying to be nice, which I now know to be impossible of them. Never in my life has a student done something quite like this to me… never! Well, there was that one time when Neville turned me into a rat, but that was completely inadvertent; he was suppose to be turning the cup into one, but his wand was accidentally pointed at me. Oh and now look what they’ve done to me. Just wait—just wait till I get my hands on them!”
By now, McGonagall had worked herself into such a rage that her face was beet red, and her bun was slowly, but surely, starting to come out of its usual neatness. She went over and handed Dumbledore the wrapper the horrid candy had been in, and she stared at him intently, as if trying to say, “See!”
“I hope,” thought McGonagall, “that you will figure out that this (pointing to her mouth) is the work of those notorious Weasley twins. And I hope that you punish them severely. I’m starting to agree with Filch, we need the old school punishments back. Hanging them by their wrists in the dungeons would not be so bad of an idea. Oh, I hope you have figured it out by now, Albus.” She gave him an inquisitive look, which went right along with the unarticulated question.
Dumbledore’s calm face looked at the candy wrapper which read, Jaw Clincher’s: one piece is guaranteed to shut one person up for at least one hour.
He laughed to himself, assuming that this must be the brilliant work of the Weasley twins, and was meaning to ask them where they had purchased it when McGonagall made a pitiful noise from deep in her throat.
He looked up at Professor McGonagall and had to try very hard to repress a wide smile.