Katie glanced over the tops of her cards, trying to ignore the sweat running down the back of her neck. With this game, anything could happen. Besides, it didn't exactly soothe her nerves that her hand included two Aces and three Queens. As contrary to regular card games as that may have sounded, then whole point of Damn was to have the lowest total once you added the card values up.
"Dammit!" Lee yelled. He frantically grabbed up the cup of water in front of him and splashed it onto himself to put out the fire raging on several of his dreadlocks.
The other main danger of Fred and George's maniacal game: it was played with Exploding Snap cards. This meant that, at any time, your whole hand could explode. Once that happened, you generally won, mostly because it's almost completely impossible to add up the values on cards that have exploded into a pile of smoldering ashes.
"Hey, Ange," Lee said once his dreadlocks were extinguished. "I do believe we had a bet."
Angelina, full lips screwed up into a grimace, took a deep breath through her nose and leaned towards the formerly flaming Quidditch announcer. Fred and George giggled and punched each other in anticipation. Lee lunged in with slightly too much enthusiasm, crushing against her with enough force to move a small elephant.
"Jesus, Lee!" she yelped, pulling away quickly. "Were you trying to bloody kill me?"
Lee blushed, his dark cheeks turning even darker, and mumbled something incomprehensible.
George nudged Fred, who pulled a small flask from his pocket. He handed it to Lee and said gravely, "Drink your problems away, mate."
After taking a huge swig, Lee dropped the flask abruptly, shuddered, and turned into a large canary. He squawked angrily for a few moments before molting and turning back into himself.
"Essence of Canary Cream," Fred grinned. "No one accepted pastries from us anymore--"
"-- so we developed this," finished George, his grin equally large and insincere.
Fred grabbed the flask up from the floor and put it back in his pocket. Lee gathered the cards up, only to have them explode, once again setting his dreadlocks on fire. Alicia dumped her water on his head, glaring at Angelina, who was barely holding back laughter. The glowering expression looked strange on her delicate features.
"Katie Kate," someone's breath tickled the back of Katie's ear. "Would you like to assist us in the undertaking of the greatest prank Hogwarts has seen since last Thursday?"
When she turned around, Fred and George were directly behind her, beaming identically. So quickly that she wasn't sure that she even saw it, George winked. Then his face was reset in their shared expression.
"Why not?" she answered finally. "It's not like we're going to be planting someone's underwear in Snape's office." The twin's smiles grew even larger. "Right?"
George sniggered as Fred pulled out a bright orange pair of boxer's. He then shrugged and said, "It's a disappointment to the Weasley name that poor, ickle Ronniekins--"
"-- leaves his underpants out to dry in the bathroom."
"Oh, no," Katie protested. "Snape is going to kill you."
Grinning wickedly, Fred corrected her. "Us. If we're dying, we're bringing you with us, Belly."
Lunging forward with practiced speed, they each grabbed one of her arms and pulled her, backwards, from the room. Angelina, Alicia, and Lee looked up briefly, but once they saw that it was a mere kidnapping, returned to their game of Damn.
"Alicia!" Katie screeched at the portrait hole between attempts to bite the twins arms. "Help! Rape!"
"Would you like this to be rape?" Fred winked down at her. "Because the Room of Requirement can be used for more--"
"Questionable," George supplied.
"--flights of fancy."
The twins had started to head towards the stairs that led to the seventh floor. Katie flailed unsuccessfully, then yelled, "No! No rape! I'm good with boxer-planting!"
George's free hand covered her mouth. He whispered, "Be quiet, Katie Kate, this is a prank, not an advertisement of your unnatural ability to get caught."
Katie sniffed delicately and refrained from screaming again. Her limbs hung limply in the twin's death holds.
"Now, all you have to do--" George said sweetly once they reached the dungeons.
"--is stand out here and act like a tart if anyone comes around." The twins spun her around to face them, Fred grinning like a maniac and looking her clothes over. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her skirt, prompting her to yell again.
"Frederick Fabian Weasley!" She smacked his wand away from herself. "Don't you even think about it! I refuse to dress like a harlot just to satisfy one of your sick fantasies!"
"Jesus, Bell!" he snarled. "Did you learn to whisper in a heavy-machinery factory?"
Katie wondered silently how Fred, a pureblood, knew what a heavy-machinery factory was. He probably was using the labor conditions as a model for their up-and-coming shop. She snorted to herself at her mental picture of Fred, fat and wearing a grubby pinstripe suit, standing at the head of an assembly line, his red hair falling out as he waved his chubby fists.
"Besides," said George, completely straight-faced. "It was my fantasy."
She took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and muttered, "Fine."
"Planto meretricis," one of the twins giggled. There was a sudden, unexpected draft around her lower thighs and stomach. Her ankles strained against the heels that had replaced her raggedy canvas trainers. A push-up bra conjured by the spell squished her breast together uncomfortably.
"Do I even want to open my eyes?" whispered Katie, trying to ignore the sniggering and very loud transfer of money that was occurring in front of her. Not waiting for their answer, she slowly unclenched her recently made-up eyelids. Upon seeing her clothing, she grouched, "I look like a whore from Knockturn Alley."
"But a pretty whore," George grinned and batted his eyelashes at her. He then saluted. "We bid you--"
"Adieu."
They slipped into the door that led to Snape's office, George once again winking at her. She leaned against the wall, fervently wishing that no one would pass by. Unfortunately, she didn't get her wish. Warrington sauntered down the hallway no more than 30 seconds after the twins disappeared.
"Bell," he said curtly. Then he saw her outfit. "Bell! How the hell are you, sweetheart?"
Katie groaned inwardly. "Just amazing, Warrington. Move along. Nothing to bloody see here."
"There's definitely something to see," he smirked. When combined with someone visibly working to stop their eyes from wandering, a smirk was a rather hilarious expression.
"Who cares about me? How are you?" she was grinning the special grin that only graced her face when someone was either about to run home crying or get punched in the face. In this case, it could be either. "Still looking yummy, I see."
"What?" he jerked his head slightly to clear out any lint that might have been hiding in his ear canal.
"Did you know cornflakes are my favorite breakfast cereal?" asked the dainty Gryffindor.
"Should I have?" replied the sloth-like Slytherin, becoming increasingly confused.
"Yes, probably," she withdrew her wand from her waistband. "Hornsvelius!"
Slowly but surely, Warrington's skin became flaky and toasted-looking. Katie giggled to herself as her rival Chaser's skin turned into a collage of cornflakes and as he looked himself over with horror, then ran down the hallway towards the stairs.
"Now that is definitely worse than gonorrhea," snickered Fred, observing Katie's charm work. A nasty stain in a sick shade of yellow had bloomed on his robe. "Ow!" He had been whacked in the stomach by Katie's fist, causing him to double over, gasping.
"That was for dressing me like a tart," she informed him. The plastic sides of the scarlet heels made loud clonking noises as they hit the ground, thrown off by Katie as she stormed down the hallway.
George called out, voice cracking slightly, "Wouldn't you like to know what we did?"
After taking another deep breath, she spun on her bare feet. Fred and George's identical pouts worked wonders towards dissipating her flare-up of anger. Speaking through clenched teeth, she inquired, "What did you do?"
"All in good time, Belly, all in good time." Fred rapped his knuckles against a patch of wall underneath an unpleasant looking witch. The wall made a deep grumbling noise before sliding downwards to reveal a dark passageway.
Katie allowed herself to be led down the passage by George. In an unexpected act of kindness, he had lent her his robe, which she drew as tightly about herself as it would go. The twins were conferring, voices just low enough that she couldn't hear. They seemed to be arguing. Fred was winning.
In all of two-and-a-half seconds, Fred's wand went out, George let go of her arm, and the passageway fell completely silent. Goosebumps erupted on Katie's exposed skin, sending several shivers across her frame. She pulled George's robe closer to her; as she did, she noticed that it smelled a bit like icing and butterbeer. Sweet smells. What they had done, however, was the exact opposite of sweet.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" she yelled, sending echoes off the slimy stone walls.
"Of course we were, Bell," laughed a voice from somewhere to her right. "We're not that mean."
"Generally," amended a second voice, closer this time and to her left.
This was great. She was flanked on both sides by psychotic red-heads, trapped in a secret passageway, and, let's not forget, dressed like a cheap whore. To add to that, George's robe had acquired a large hole during their recent escapade in Snape's office, meaning that large gusts of chilly air periodically caused her skin to break out in fresh rounds of goose pimples.
A bright light dazzled her retinas. Once her eyes adjusted to the blinding glare, she could make out a picture being projected on the wall of Fred and George, grinning and giving each other bunny ears in front of Snape's desk. Katie had a strong suspicion that the camera had been stolen from Colin Creevey.
The picture switched to one of Ron's boxers, laid out on the desk next to a note written in a scrawl almost identical to Ron's. Visible in the background of the picture was a small vial of what looked like firewhiskey but was most likely actually Amortentia. Katie was dazed with their thoroughness. When these two did something, they did it right.
The third picture showed a large bucket of water, perched over the door. This obviously had nothing to do with the boxer-planting. Fred explained quickly, "We put a bit of shampoo in there. Scintillating Strawberry. "
Harry Potter was the subject of the next picture. The camera had definitely been stolen from Colin. Fred made a hand gesture and the magical projection disappeared, leaving them in even darker gloom than before.
A clicking-and-clacking noise filled the air.
"Little cold there, Bell?" asked the voice to the right.
Warms arms enveloped her, their accompanying torso pressing comfortably against her left side. She stuck her hands deep into his pockets, completely disregarding that the gesture could be taken the wrong way. All she could think about at that moment was that her hands were cold, they were needed to play Quidditch, and that the infernal skirt didn't have any pockets.
Another shiver made its way down her spine. This one was caused by the lips that had grazed against her temple. She was suddenly overly aware of everything in the tunnel: Fred standing obliviously several feet away, her own scantily clad and freezing body, and George, whose lips were roaming about her face, planting kisses every inch or so.
Katie could feel his breath tickling her lips. He was coming closer at an infuriatingly slow pace. Idiotically, she wondered how he even knew where her mouth was, pitch black as the tunnel was.
"WEASLEYS!" roared Filch. George jerked away a fraction of a second before the secret passageway's second door was flung open, flooding the tunnel with torchlight. "You're in for it this time!"
"Hello, Argus," said Fred pleasantly. "What's happened to give us the pleasure of seeing your lovely face?"
"What's happened?" he repeated, jowls quivering. "A bucket falling on my head when I went to clean Professor Snape's office, that's what happened!"
"And you just happened to traipse along to the conclusion that we did it?" George asked, making a vain attempt to shield Katie from view.
"We're injured that you think so little of us, Argus," pouted Fred, shaking his head in disapproval.
"Quiet, Mister Weasley," Filch wheezed. "You're coming with me."
"Well, I'll see you later, Freddie!" George said brightly, turning and attempting to usher Katie towards the other end of the tunnel.
"Oh, no," Filch grinned wickedly, his wheezes finally subsiding. "The shackles are for you too. And Miss Bell."
Katie swore loudly. She had assumed that Filch, being as old as her blind Great-Aunt Harriet, had developed a condition that only allowed him to see the twins when he was pushed into fits of rage. Her theory had just been completely disproved.
"Don't worry, Katie Kate," George whispered as they were whisked towards Filch's office. "There are only two pairs of shackles. We'll just have him string Fred up by his hands and his feet."
"I heard that!" said both Filch and Fred. The quartet lapsed into silence. Only the gentle dripping of Filch's robes could be heard. That was, until a brisk voice Katie had never expected to be grateful for called down a deserted hallway.
"Where are you taking these three, Argus?" asked Professor McGonagall, clad in a particularly garish tartan nightgown.
Filch immediately started babbling. "They were in the dungeons, ma'am, and they dumped water on me when I was cleaning-"
"I asked where you were taking them," she said, coldly cutting through his rambling.
"To my office, to string them up like they deserve," he answered. Katie cringed away from the water that had flown from his hair, and ran into George. A low chuckle emanated from him. Yet another shiver attacked her when one of his arms wrapped casually around her waist.
She was getting sick of the shivers. It was George for Merlin's sake, the same bloke she'd been friends with practically since she was in the womb. They'd beat each other up after every argument for a good three years. Admittedly, though, he had always been her favorite twin. Favoring him still didn't excuse shivering with every bloody touch.
"How many times must you be told that corporeal punishments is banned at Hogwarts?" she gave Filch a stern look over the top of her spectacles. Without waiting for an answer, she went on, "I'll be taking these students back up to their common rooms now."
Before she let them escape through the portrait hole, she informed them, "Five points will be taken from each of you for wandering around after hours. And an extra five from you, Ms. Bell, for that tasteless modification of your uniform."
Katie pushed the snickering Fred out of her way and climbed through the portrait hole. To her credit, Angelina was the only one who looked up from their game of Damn, ascertained that Katie was annoyed, then got up to go talk to her. Alicia was too busy flirting with Lee, who was being oblivious as ever.
"So, how'd the kidnapping go?" she asked, her good humor apparently recovered from the kiss with Lee.
A dirty look towards the twins, currently doing a victory waltz around the common room, was the only answer she gave. Un-charming her uniform than recaptured her attention. She hadn't washed her other set, so it was either dressing like a tart or wearing dirty clothes. Quite frankly, she was leaning towards the dirty clothes option. Warrington was still at large.
"You know, you could just talk to him about it," Angelina suggested.
"How'd you know?" asked Katie with a considerable amount of alarm. Was everyone except her in on George's plan to seduce her with his icing-scented robes and inhuman resistance to cold?
"Know what?" Angelina asked, eyes widening with interest. She had an insatiable appetite for gossip. It came in handy when Katie wanted to know things, but was rather irritating the rest of the time.
"'Bout George," Katie mumbled, poking her skirt viciously with her wand. "And his wandering lips."
"Something actually happened?" said Angelina a bit too enthusiastically. "I just use that line as a fix-all!"
"You are so unhelpful," Katie informed her fellow Chaser.
"I know," she answered cheerfully.
"Why don't you just shag Fred or something?"
"Oh, I already did." Katie's expression slowly edged towards horror. "We shag after every practice. That's the only reason he puts up with my Captaining."
"Ah!" yelled Katie. "My virgin ears!"
"Your ears are not virginal!" George yelled back, the twins putting their waltz on hold for the sake of taking the mickey out of Katie.
"Neither is any other part of you, Bell," Fred added. "And it's all your fault isn't it, George?"
"No regrets," George grinned cheekily at her.
"If you don't shut up right now…" she didn't bother to finish her threat. Sixteen years of experience told her that the twins never shut up when you wanted them to.
Fred had turned to Lee and stage-whispered, "Well, mate, what did you think they did all those times in Forge's and my room? Played chess?"
"Dancing the horizontal mambo, Gred," George answered, lying through his teeth.
"THAT'S IT!" roared Katie launching herself out of the armchair she'd been inhabiting and sprinting towards George. He made a valiant attempt to escape by leaping over a couch, but Katie tackled him in front of the hearth. "Tell them that we haven't shagged!"
He groaned theatrically, then called towards the table where the other four sat, unconcerned by Katie's impromptu attack, "Katie and I have not shagged… lately."
"George, you bloody bastard, I swear to Merlin I will club you with a largish troll-"
Her threat was cut off by George's lips enveloping hers. He flipped them both over so that he could pin all four of her limbs to the ground. "What was that threat, Katie Kate?"
Before she could gather up enough brain cells to even think about answering, George was once again snogging her senseless. He had released one of her arms, and was using his free hand to hold her head above the stone floor. His Weasley-red hair was being worked a right mess by Katie, who was pinning him against herself. A particularly rough-hewn brick in the floor pressed into Katie's back, she wriggled closer to George to avoid it.
"Get a room!" yelled Lee. He then joined Fred in catcalling and whistling.
George, without removing his mouth from Katie's, lifted her in his arms bridal-style and headed up the stairs to the dormitories. Once Angelina heard the thump of the shutting door, she stuck her hand in front of Alicia's nose.
"Five sickles."
This story deteriorated after about a thousand words. Oh well!