The first one struck home. Splat, splat, splat! The rest followed suit. From what I could see, they seemed to be hitting the back of Professor Quirrell's turban. The last one hit him so hard he stumbled and fell face first in the snow. After that we couldn't hold back and burst out laughing, stumbling out from behind the door. Fred and George were leaning on each other to stay up and I was bent over clutching a stitch in my side, trying to stifle my giggles. As we were doing this Quirrell got up and staggered over to us, wiping snow off his face. I straightened up, looked at him and was shocked to see how angry he was.