Hi guys!

I hope you're doing well. Here comes the fourth part of my Harry has a twin!AU. I hope you're all happy to see the twins again! I sure am hehe.

As usual, I still don't have a beta reader and since English isn't my mother tongue, there will be a few mistakes . I apologize for it and hope it will not bother your reading.

Have fun! (Also, thanks everybody for your kind reviews on the previous part 3)

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Rohini jolt awake, her senses alerted as she stared at the ceiling. She thought for a moment that it had been because of midnight pain in her arm but no, it didn't feel painful.

She saw something move on her left and turning her face, she realised Harry was now standing in front of the window, resting his forehead against it. Rohini sighed before standing up and walking towards her brother.

"Harry?" She said, one hand on his shoulder. Her brother tensed up under it. "Hey, what happened? Is it… is it your scar?"

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"Well, you've been touching it while grimacing lately. Don't think I wouldn't notice; we live under the same roof. And there have been nightmares, too, right?"

"How do you know? You're half deaf." Harry said and Rohini rolled her eyes.

"I don't need to hear you to sense you're not good. I'm a light sleeper, you know?"

"Since when? You're always the last one out of bed." Harry said with a smile and Rohini elbowed him. "Ok,ok- that's not fooling you isn't it?"

"Not in the slightest." Rohini said. Then, she jumped on Harry's bed and waved at him to sit next to her.

Thranduil, her cat, opened his eyes and joined them by sitting on her brother's laps.

"So?" Rohini said, nudging Harry. "Care to tell me what's wrong?"

"You will not like it." Harry said, looking suddenly grim. Rohini lost her smile and frowned.

"Tell me, Harry. You can't just keep your worries for yourself."

"It's… Do you remember Professor Trelawney's prediction, last year?"

"The creepy one she gave us both?" Rohini asked. "The one- the one about Voldemort?"

"Yeah. And, do you remember back in first year, how my scar seemed to react to Voldemort's close presence?"

"What, is he close? Can you sense him?" Rohini asked, and Harry shook his head.

"That's not it, not really. I- I have nightmares. About him. There's… there's Pettigrew, too." He said, glancing at Rohini whose features harden.

Peter Pettigrew used to be one of their father's best friends, and also happened to be Rohini's godfather. He had betrayed the Potters thirteen years ago and framed Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, for his crimes.

He had run away a few weeks ago and Rohini was still full of anger every time she thought of the pitiful cowardly man.

"What…what do you see? In your nightmares?"

"I don't remember everything but… this time, there was someone. Someone else and- I think he got killed. They were in a darkened room and there had been a snake on a hearth rug..."

"Shit… Do you think it was real? I mean, like a vision?"

"I don't know. I mean, how would it work?"

"You have some kind of bond with Voldemort." Rohini said, remembering a conversation they had once with Dumbledore. "Remember, back in second year; Dumbledore said there was a part of Voldemort in us but mine got "killed" by the Basilisk's venom; yours didn't."

"That's still… Do you realise what it means? With Pettigrew's help, Voldemort could get his strength back." Harry said, his fingers running through Thranduil's short fur. "And if it happens-"

"If it happens, people will fight to stop him." Rohini cut her brother, determination in her green eyes. "It happened once; people will never stop fighting, Harry. Besides, Voldemort is probably extremely weak right now if he needs someone as lame as Pettigrew to help him survive."

Harry said nothing and Rohini realised his left leg was twitching. It made her frown; somehow, she could tell Harry was keeping something from her. What else could he remember from his nightmare that he didn't want to share with her?

"Harry-"she began, before pinching her lips.

No, she couldn't force him; she remembered someone telling her once that even siblings had to keep some things secret from each other. If Harry didn't want to tell her for now, then it was his right.

"We'll be fine." She said instead with a smile, ruffling her hand through her brother's messy hair.

"Rohini?" Harry said.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful." He just said and Rohini looked at him, taken aback, before giving him a side hug.

"You too, big brother." She said and some of the tension seemed to lift as Harry chuckled. "What? You're born first."

"You're weird, little sister." Harry said and Rohini grinned before yawning and announcing she was going back to bed.

"You should write to Sirius, if you're that worried. Or Professor Lupin." Rohini said sleepily as she slipped under her blanket.

They had received two letters from Sirius since they came back to Privet Drive. Both had been delivered, not by owls but by large, brightly coloured tropical birds. Hedwig, Harry's owl, had not approved of these flashy intruders; she had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from her water tray before flying off again.

Sirius's letters, which were now hidden beneath the highly useful loose floorboards under Harry's bed, sounded cheerful, and in both of them he had reminded the twins to call on him if ever they needed to.

Rohini woke up after Harry the next day, but she was the first one downstairs for she needed to cook breakfast. Technically, Harry and she weren't forced to make them anymore since the Dursleys had learnt about Sirius affiliation to Harry, but this habit was hard to kill and she had realised Aunt Petunia often burnt the twins' bacons when she was the one cooking.

When she arrived in the kitchen, the three Dursleys were already seated around the table. Uncle Vernon's large red face was hidden behind the morning's Daily Mail, and Aunt Petunia was cutting a grapefruit into quarters, her lips pursed over her horse like teeth.

Dudley looked furious and sulky, and somehow seemed to be taking up even more space than usual. This was saying something, as he always took up an entire side of the square table by himself.

When Aunt Petunia put a quarter of unsweetened grapefruit onto Dudley's plate with a tremulous "There you are, Diddy darling," Dudley glowered at her.

His life had taken a most unpleasant turn since he had come home for the summer with his end-of-year report:

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had managed to find excuses for his bad marks as usual: Aunt Petunia always insisted that Dudley was a very gifted boy whose teachers didn't understand him, while Uncle Vernon maintained that "he didn't want some swotty little nancy boy for a son anyway."

They also skated over the accusations of bullying in the report - "He's a boisterous little boy, but he wouldn't hurt a fly!" Aunt Petunia had said tearfully.

However, at the bottom of the report there were a few well-chosen comments from the school nurse that not even Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia could explain away. No matter how much Aunt Petunia wailed that Dudley was big-boned, and that his poundage was really puppy fat, and that he was a growing boy who needed plenty of food, the fact remained that the school outfitters didn't stock knickerbockers big enough for him anymore.

The school nurse had seen what Aunt Petunia's eyes - so sharp when it came to spotting fingerprints on her gleaming walls, and in observing the comings and goings of the neighbours - simply refused to see: that far from needing extra nourishment, Dudley had reached roughly the size and weight of a young killer whale.

So - after many tantrums and many tears from Aunt Petunia - the new regime had begun. The diet sheet that had been sent by the Smeltings school nurse had been taped to the fridge, which had been emptied of all Dudley's favourite things - fizzy drinks and cakes, chocolate bars and burgers and filled instead with fruit and vegetables and the sorts of things that Uncle Vernon called "rabbit food."

To make Dudley feel better about it all, Aunt Petunia had insisted that the whole family follow the diet too. She passed a grapefruit quarter to Rohini who looked at her Aunt and, without breaking eye contact, opened the fridge to pick up the butter that she then spread on a piece of bread.

Not that Rohini needed to do so, except from sheer spite; the moment they had got wind of the fact that they were expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to their friends with pleas for help, and they had risen to the occasion magnificently.

Hedwig had returned from Hermione's house with a large box stuffed full of sugar-free snacks. (Hermione's parents were dentists.) Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes that were just as hard as, well, rocks.

Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies. Poor Errol, who was elderly and feeble, had needed a full five days to recover from the journey.

As for Rohini's best friend, Padma, Hedwig came back with two Tupperware filled with rice and curry.

And then on the twins' birthday (which the Dursleys had completely ignored) they had received five superb birthday cakes, one each from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Sirius and Padma.

"She ate a piece of bread! With butter, too!" Dudley began to complain and Aunt Petunia tried to calm him down while Uncle Vernon pointed a threatening fat finger at Rohini.

"Do that again," he said, spit coming out of his mouth, "And we will kick you out of this house!"

"Wow, I'm really frightened by this opportunity." Rohini said between her teeth, not loud enough for her Uncle to hear her.

The doorbell rang. Uncle Vernon heaved himself out of his chair and set off down the hall. Quick as a flash, while his mother was occupied with the kettle, Dudley stole the rest of Uncle Vernon's grapefruit.

Rohini was going to make Harry's breakfast and ignore Aunt Petunia's grapefruit rule when she heard talking at the door, and someone laughing, and Uncle Vernon answering curtly. Then the front door closed, and the sound of ripping paper came from the hall.

Aunt Petunia set the teapot down on the table and looked curiously around to see where Uncle Vernon had got to. She didn't have to wait long to find out; after about a minute, he was back. He looked livid.

"You," he barked at Rohini. "In the living room. Now."

Raising an eyebrow, Rohini took another bread slice –making Dudley pull a new tantrum- and followed Uncle Vernon out of the kitchen and into the next room. Uncle Vernon closed the door sharply behind both of them.

"So," he said, marching over to the fireplace and turning to face Rohini as though he were about to pronounce her under arrest. "So."

"So, what?" Rohini couldn't help but say and Uncle Vernon's little piggy eyes started to shine with anger.

"This just arrived," said Uncle Vernon. He brandished two piece of purple writing paper at her. «Letters. About you and your brother."

"Oh?" Rohini said, surprised. All their friends used birds to deliver their letters and they had no Muggle friends anyway. Who could have written to them? "Who's that from?"

Uncle Vernon glared at her, then looked down at the first letter and began to read aloud, just as Harry arrived inside the room and seemed confused to see them both here:

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry about my son Ron.

As Harry might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

I do hope you will allow us to take Harry to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn't hosted the cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have Harry stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see him safely onto the train back to school. Rohini is invited to join us whenever she want, too.

It would be best for Harry to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is.

Hoping to see Harry and (Rohini of course ) soon, Yours sincerely, Molly Weasley

P.S. I do hope we've put enough stamps on."

Uncle Vernon finished reading, put his hand back into his breast pocket, and drew out something else.

"Look at this," he growled.

He held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasley's letter had come, and the twins had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys' address in minute writing.

"She did put enough stamps on, then." said Harry and Rohini burst in laugh.

"The postman noticed," Uncle Vernon said through gritted teeth. "Very interested to know where this letter came from, he was. That's why he rang the doorbell. Seemed to think it was funny."

"So - can I go then?" Harry asked.

A slight spasm crossed Uncle Vernon's large purple face. The moustache bristled from a furious battle as two of Uncle Vernon's most fundamental instincts came into conflict.

Allowing Harry to go would make Harry happy, something Uncle Vernon had struggled against for thirteen years. On the other hand, allowing Harry to disappear to the Weasleys' for the rest of the summer would get rid of him two weeks earlier than anyone could have hoped, and Uncle Vernon hated having Harry in the house.

To give himself thinking time, it seemed, he looked down at the second letter and glanced at Rohini before reading:

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

My name is Vidya Patil and I'm the mother of Padma Patil, Rohini's best friend.

I'm writing to you in order to ask you if our dear Rohini could spend next week at our home. It would be our pleasure to have her sitting at our table; Padma misses her just as much as Rohini misses Padma, I'm sure of it.

I had a talk with Mrs. Molly Weasley and her husband, and we come to an agreement that once the week is over, both Rohini and Harry could stay at their place for the remainder of the summer holidays.

If you do agree, then tell Rohini to send her answer as quickly as she can, and we will come to pick her up on Monday.

Yours sincerely,

Mrs. Vidya Patil.

Ps: I do hope we have put enough stamps on this envelop. Molly told us it wouldn't be delivered otherwise."

And just like Mrs. Weasley's envelop, the one send by Mrs. Patil was covered in stamps.

"Who are those women?" Uncle Vernon said, staring at the two signatures with distaste.

"You've seen Mrs. Weasley" said Harry. "She's my friend Ron's mother, she was meeting him off the Hog - off the school train at the end of last term."

Uncle Vernon screwed up his enormous face as though trying to remember something very unpleasant.

"Dumpy sort of woman?" he growled finally. "Load of children with red hair?"

Harry frowned. He thought it was a bit rich of Uncle Vernon to call anyone "dumpy," when his own son, Dudley, had finally achieved what he'd been threatening to do since the age of three, and become wider than he was tall.

"And who's this… this Patil woman?" Uncle Vernon asked Rohini.

"Can't you read? It's my best friend's mum." Rohini said.

"Best friend? You?" Uncle Vernon said, as if Rohini was the worst friend someone could think of. "Quidditch," he then muttered under his breath. "Quidditch - what is this rubbish?"

"It's a sport," Harry said shortly. "Played on broom- "

"All right, all right!" said Uncle Vernon loudly. The twins saw, with some satisfaction, that their uncle looked vaguely panicky. Apparently his nerves couldn't stand the sound of the word "broomsticks" in his living room. He took refuge in perusing the second letter, then went back to Mrs. Weasley's one.

"What does she mean, 'the normal way'?" he spat.

"Normal for us," said Harry, and before his uncle could stop him, he added, "you know, owl post. That's what's normal for wizards."

Uncle Vernon looked as outraged as if Harry had just uttered a disgusting swearword. Shaking with anger, he shot a nervous look through the window, as though expecting to see some of the neighbours with their ears pressed against the glass.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof?" he hissed, his face now a rich plum colour. "You stand there, in the clothes Petunia and I have put on your ungrateful back -"

"-Once you've worn them to the core…" Rohini mumbled, glancing at Harry's sweatshirt so large for him that he had had to roll back the sleeves five times so as to be able to use his hands, and which fell past the knees of his extremely baggy jeans.

She was herself wearing Aunt Petunia's ugly brown dress that fell down to her ankles.

"Don't speak to me like that, you little nasty-" Uncle Vernon began but Harry cut him.

"Okay, I can't see the World Cup and Rohini can't see Padma. Can we go now, then? Only I've got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know - my godfather."

"Ah, Sirius…" Rohini sighed. "Wonder if he had killed anyone, lately? Must be hard, to resist the urge…"

They watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon's face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.

"You're - you're writing to him, are you?" said Uncle Vernon, in a would-be calm voice -but the twins had seen the pupils of his tiny eyes contract with sudden fear.

"Well - yeah," said Harry, casually. "It's been a while since he heard from me, and, you know, if he doesn't he might start thinking something's wrong."

Rohini glanced at her brother proudly. They could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon's thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think the twins are being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn't go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know they are indeed being mistreated.

There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do.

"Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy ... this stupid ... this World Cup thing. You write and tell these - these Weasleys they're to pick you up, mind. I haven't got time to go dropping you off all over the country. And you can spend the rest of the summer there. And you can tell your - your godfather ... tell him ... tell him you're going."

"Okay then," said Harry brightly. "How about Rohini?"

"She can go too, now LEAVE THIS ROOM!" Uncle Vernon shouted and the twins ran upstairs with a laugh.

"I'm so grateful for Sirius." Rohini said, jumping on her bed before tearing up a page of her journal to wrote her answer to Padma. "Do you think Hedwig could deliver this on her way to The Burrow?"

"Sure." Harry said, spotting his owl coming down from the sky and taking a step backward to let her in.

"OUCH!" said Harry suddenly as what appeared to be a small, gray, feathery tennis ball collided with the side of his head. Harry massaged the spot furiously, looking up to see what had hit him, and saw a minute owl, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand, whizzing excitedly around the room like a loose firework.

Thranduil hissed loudly and hid under Rohini's bed, his eyes shining dangerously.

Rohini caught the tiny bird like a baseball player and untied up a letter from its leg. "Isn't it Ron's new owl?" She asked as she handed up the letter to Harry.

"Harry - DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. Mum's writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I don't know how fast Muggle post is. Thought I'd send this with Pig anyway." Harry read aloud.

"Pig?" Rohini stopped him, looking at the tiny owl she was holding between her fingers, worried it would fly off again.

"We're coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can't miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it's better if we pretend to ask their permission first.

If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday anyway.

Hermione's arriving this afternoon. Percy's started work - the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Don't mention anything about Abroad while you're here unless you want the pants bored off you.

See you soon – Ron"

Harry seized his eagle-feather quill once more, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and wrote his answer.

"I'll use Ron's owl so you can use Hedwig." Harry said as he folded this note up very small, and with immense difficulty, tied it to the tiny owl's leg as it hopped in Rohini's opened hands with excitement. The moment the note was secure, the owl was off again; it zoomed out of the window and out of sight.

Harry turned to Hedwig. "Feeling up to a long journey?" he asked her.

Hedwig hooted in a dignified sort of a way.

"Can you take this to Sirius for me?" he said, picking up his letter. "Hang on ... I just want to finish it." He unfolded the parchment and hastily added a postscript while Rohini tied up her own letter to Hedwig's other leg, telling her to deliver it to the Patils.

Then Harry tied Sirius' letter to Hedwig's leg; she kept unusually still, as though determined to show him how a real post owl should behave.

"I'll be at Ron's when you get back, all right?" Harry told her.

She nipped his finger affectionately, then, with a soft swooshing noise, spread her enormous wings and soared out of the open window.

Harry watched her out of sight, then crawled under his bed, wrenched up the loose floorboard, and pulled out a large chunk of birthday cake.

"Want some, too?" He asked Rohini who nodded and took a slice from Padma's cake. Or more likely, Mr. Patil since he was apparently the one doing the cooking.

"I can't believe we're gonna leave Privet Drive for the summer." Harry said, beaming.

"Well, I ain't complaining." Rohini said, and the twins looked at the beautiful weather outside, both thinking about the upcoming Monday.

Things promised to be exciting for them.