AN: prompted by a conversation with seriesofdamnits

If you ever wanted to revise (which isn't likely) you could have Snape leave Harry to guard outside the bathroom while he goes to get brooms. Ron and the twins (who were the ones wandering and found out about Ginny, told Ron and together found Lockhart leaving) followed Harry and Snape (with Lockhart in tow)
The twins distracted Harry with some sort of prank so Ron and Lockhart could go in to the bathroom. They don't get a chance to follow down the tunnel after Harry and Snape because Filch catches them. IDK if leaving Harry alone is any more believable then leaving the chamber open and unattended but it's an idea.

So instead of revising my story, I wrote this for fun. An optional work around for getting Ron & Lockhart into the Chamber of Secrets. This time we're seeing the story from Fred & George's POV

Double Trouble

Fred smacked George's hand away. "Leave off."

"But you have chocolate on your," George's hand snaked out to swiped at Fred's cheek only to be resisted again by a slapping hand, "face."

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"You're reading."

"Look," Fred showed the map to George, "what do you think they're up to?"

George grabbed the map freeing Fred to finally rid himself of the chocolate smudge courtesy of the delicious cake provided by the eager house elf mere minutes ago in the kitchen. "All of them?"

"All of them," Fred nodded.

"Gathering together,"

"Near that creepy warning,"

"Can't be a coincidence."

"We should investigate."

Keeping a close eye on the map and closer eye on the moving marble staircase, the twins made their way to the second floor. "Still there?"

"Still there."

"This must be big." They kept to the shadows and soon heard the muffled voices. George took out his wand, tapped the Marauder's map with the tip, "Mischief managed."

Fred relieved his twin of the parchment, folded it carefully - seeing how George always managed to create new folds when he tried - and stowed it in his pocket as they made their way carefully towards the second floor girl's bathroom.

The voices coming from the corridor grew louder, more distinct and words followed the sounds stringing together into sentences. "...do now, Minerva?"

"We'll have to close the school. Send the children home. What else can we do?" The twins shared a confused glance at the emotionally strained voice of their Head of House, Professor McGonagall.

The two hugged the wall tighter as the next voice joined the conversation, "Well, Lockhart. It would appear your time has come. The girl will need rescuing. This is right up your alley, is it not?"

Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice soon joined Professor Snape's, "That's right. Weren't you just saying earlier that you figured out where the Chamber entrance is?"

"Oh! Well, now... I, erm..." Professor Lockhart stalled, the boys chanced a peek at the gathered staff. Every face was turned towards Professor Lockhart waiting expectantly and he did not disappoint. He straightened, flashed a brilliant smile and smoothed his lapel, "Yes, of course. I will simply need to prepare. If you'll excuse me."

The man gave an overly exaggerated bow and a show of faux cheerfulness that didn't reach his strained eyes. The professor quickly turned on his heel and practically ran.

Madam Pomfrey nudged Professor McGonagall, "Do we know who she is?"

The boys finally saw the writing on the wall, the woman's question made infinitely more sense and why she would be concerned with who 'she' is. Fred couldn't stop staring at the red dripping warning directly beneath the first red dripping warning.

HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER

Professor McGonagall clutched Madam Pomfrey's arm, her voice was strained, "Ginny Weasley."

That was all the boys needed to hear, they were off again, parchment out. "I solemnly swear, I am up to no good."

George glanced over as the map sprung to life, grabbed Fred's arm and the pressed against a wall as Professor Snape swept past them in a rush down the staircase. Fred nodded and the pair were off again, sweeping up to the seventh floor and the Gryffindor tower.

"We need help on this one,"

"Who can we trust?"

"Not Percy,"

"That git loves Ginny,"

"Loves his precious rules more." They reached the portrait and the sleepy Fat Lady. Before she could muster up the question, "Snufflifors."

The portrait huffed but opened to allow them entry. George was scampering in with Fred right on his tail. "Ron would help."

"He hates Ginny,"

"Loves the attention of being a right git,"

"Would love being a hero more," the twins share in a knowing grin and head directly for the second year's dorm room.

Ron was sprawled over his bed, red hair disheveled, left leg dangling over the edge and right arm slung over his forehead. "How does he sleep like that?"

A snort, snuffle and groan came as a response and Ron rolled over to curl into a ball. "Right then, you get his feet, I'll-"

"Petrificus Totalus."

George blinked at Ron, grinned at Fred. "That works."

"I'm bloody brilliant, just admit it."

"Okay, you got the brains, I got the looks."

"Sod off."

The twins frowned and stared at their cursed brother. "Now is that any way,"

"To talk to your captors?"

"Besides, we're here to do you a favor."

"Finite. Come on,"

"Put clothes on,"

"We're in a bit of a hurry,"

"We gotta save Ginny," The two prompted in unison. Ron's eyes widen and he sprung from the bed, tumbling into George as his blankets tripped him.

Fred frowned at George and the two shook their head while walking away. "Useless."

Ron quickly caught up to his brothers and stowed his wand as they went along. "So how are we getting Ginny, and what kind of trouble is she in?"

"We find Lockhart,"

"He knows where the entrance is,"

"Ginny is in the Chamber of Secrets," Fred paused to look at the map and pointed to the second floor. "Lockart's in his office."

"Filch is on the fifth floor,"

"Pomfrey is in the infirmary with McGonagall,"

"Snape is in the dungeons."

"Let's go." The three Weasley brothers move quickly down the marble stairs only having to pause once for a moving staircase and made their way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's office.

Looking in every direction at once, as much as humanly possible, the three brothers cautiously make their way to Professor Lockhart's office. Trouble didn't find them this time, which was a nice change of pace. They practically marched into the office and caught the professor utterly unaware.

Two wands immediately made their way towards threatening the professor as the third hesitated. "What-"

"Simple, Ron, he's running," At the sound of Ron's exclamation and Fred's start of an explanation, Professor Lockhart whirled around, wide eyed and flat footed.

"He has no idea where the Chamber is," George's accusation caused the man to cringe in response. He looked around as if searching for something.

"He's going to leave our sister,"

"At the mercy of the heir."

"But you're a hero!" Ron blinked flabbergasted. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again with a disappointed frown and brought his wand forward pointing it at the professor. "That is our sister down there. You're bloody well going to help us get her back."

"Now boys," Professor Lockhart's eyes flashed to the left and the obvious sharp inhale suggested he found what he was looking for. Fred eyed the professor, George looked towards whatever caught the man's eye and Ron stepped closer to him. "Let's not get too hasty. This is simply a misunderstanding."

"Accio Lockhart's wand!" George caught the wand easily as the professor lunged for it with a muffled whimper. "You're packing your office,"

"What is there to misunderstand?"

Ron stepped forward half a step, "Only you're not leaving." He waited for the twins to finish his thought and rolled his eyes when silence followed.

"Let's not be hasty, how about I send you an autograph-"

"Chamber, now."

"Autographs... well, Mum, probably would like one."

"That's true."

Ron sighs, "And you two call me useless?"

Fred smirked and stepped out of the office in order to look at the Marauder's map without Professor Lockhart getting an eyeful. "Snape is on the move, girls bathroom. He's got company."

"Who?"

"Harry Potter."

"What? Why would he..."

"Doesn't matter, come on then." George poked the professor - who squeaked like a mouse - in the ribs with his own wand to get him moving.

Soon the four were moving quickly down the hall, Professor Lockhart was poked every time he tried to balk or speak and soon learned to keep quiet for his own safety. Once they made it to the bathroom, they could hear voices coming from within. One was definitely Professor Snape, while the other was none other than Harry.

Holding a finger to his lips, he waited until the others nodded in understanding. Once he had the confirmation of the other's cooperation, Fred gently pressed the door open an inch in order to see into the room.

Professor Snape looked down an opening in the tile floor, surrounded by a circle of sinks and hummed appearing to be lost in thought, "Hmm... well then, we will require two brooms in order to descend and ascend."

"Brooms, sir?" Harry peeks over the edge and tilts his head.

"Unless you've managed to learn to fly sans broom, Mr. Potter." Professor Snape hid the condescending grin with a simple raised eyebrow.

Harry grinned sheepishly and shook his head vehemently, "No, sir. Brooms are a necessity. You're right, of course. Only mine is in the equipment shed out at the pitch.

With a sharp nod, "Follow me." The two males moved to leave a curious Moaning Myrtle waving shyly at Harry.

Fred immediately backed away and shoo'd the others away from the entrance. They made it to the alcove with a second to spare and watched as the two stepped from the female's second floor bathroom. The professor pointed at the floor directly in front of the door. "Remain here and guard the entrance. Let no one enter that bathroom. I will return post haste with brooms."

"Yes, sir." Harry watched the flair of black billowing cloth as Professor Snape turned on his heel and glided quickly to the marble staircase.

"Okay this is our chance,"

"We'll distract Harry,"

"You two get into that Chamber."

Those hidden in the alcove watched as Harry turned on his heel, stop tilt his head and repeat the action. Harry turned again... and again... and again, until he was marching back and forth making sharp turns. A few times, Harry had to untangle his own legs and his cheeks redden in embarrassment, as he looked around sheepishly.

Fred pointed his wand at Harry, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Harry turned again only as he did so, his glasses remained and he stumbled. Harry whipped around and frowned. Looking around cautiously, Harry reached out for them but the drifted out of his reach. With a frown, Harry moved after them.

Fred led Harry down the hall and around a corner, past the alcove they were in. George held a finger up to keep Ron from running for the bathroom door, "Glisseo."

Harry slid along the stone floor, arms flailed wildly. George pointed to the door and shoved Professor Lockhart forward. The two disappeared into the girl's bathroom just as Harry gained his feet for two seconds and promptly fell again with a omph. Sighing, Harry looks up at his glasses floating over his head. Slowly it is lowered and Harry reached for them again, this time he is able to grab them and put them back on.

Carefully regaining his balance, Harry slowly put one foot in front of the other until he had backed himself away from the slippery stones and managed to get back in front of the door as Professor Snape arrived. "Where did you wander off to, Mr. Potter? I recall telling you to guard the door."

Hanging his head in shame, Harry followed the professor into the bathroom, "It was the weirdest thing, sir. My glasses-" his words died off as the door closed behind them.

Fred and George grinned triumphantly at each other. Now they simply had to wait a few minutes and they would follow. Fred tapped his foot, George shifted his weight. At last they were ready for their own approach.

"Oh, look what we have here. Someone's in a heap of trouble."

Fred and George turned and groaned in unison at the sight of a gleeful Mr. Filch.