The following Saturday Fred and George were up and dressed much earlier than usual. They had both woken at roughly the same time and lay awake in the room while the other occupants were still snoozing softly. Neither had had a particularly pleasant night sleep as the thought of facing Slytherin with their new brooms weighed heavy on their minds. Eventually, after having thrown all their pillows in an attempt to stop Lee's snoring, they made their way downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast. It turned out that they weren't the only members of the team who had the same idea.

"Alright," nodded Oliver, picking up a spoonful of porridge and looking at it for a few moments before returning it to the bowl.

"Alright," said Fred and George, sitting down opposite their captain. Both helped themselves to a plate of food but neither were that hungry and mainly pushed their meals around their plates. The only words exchanged over the next half an hour or so were mumbled greetings to the rest of the team who eventually made their way down. Katie first, quickly followed by Angelina and Alicia together, with Harry finally making up the group.

Soon they were gradually joined by the rest of the school. Fellow Gryffindor students, along with their Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw counterparts, bid them good luck in the upcoming match but even their most passionate supporters were rather muted in their enthusiasm. To most it seemed that the game was a foregone conclusion, none more so than the Slytherin students who were already acting as though they had already won the Quidditch Cup itself.

As eleven o'clock rolled around, everyone started to make their way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a dull overcast day with dark clouds that looked as though they might start thundering at any moment. Inside the locker room the team dressed into their Gryffindor Quidditch robes in silence before waiting for Oliver to deliver his usual pre-match talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers…"

"Too true," muttered George, "I haven't been properly dry since August."

"And we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team," Oliver continued. He turned to address Harry directly. "It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry; because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So, no pressure, Harry," said Fred, flashing the second year a wink.

The team strode out onto the pitch the roars and cheers from Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws in attendance while a chorus of hisses and boos emanated from the Slytherins. Flint and Wood shook hands, both trying to stare down and intimidate the other. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and launched the Quaffle into the air starting the match.

It didn't take Fred and George long to realised something was wrong with one of the Bludgers. No matter where they hit, no matter how hard they hit, one particular Bludger continually tried to target Harry. Soon both the twins had to position themselves either side of the Seeker to try and protect him. They had no option but to signal for Oliver to call a time-out. To make matters worse, it had also started to rain.

"What's going on?" asked Oliver as the Gryffindor team huddled together. They could hear the Slytherin students jeering them. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it, it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then…" said Oliver, anxiously.

"Listen," said Harry as Madam Hooch came walking towards the group, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one.

"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."

"Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry…"

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry, cutting her off. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone."

"This is all your fault," said George, pointing at Oliver. "'Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him."

"Ready to resume play?" asked Madam Hooch, who had now joined the group.

"All right," said Oliver. "Fred and George, you heard Harry. Leave him along and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

"Merlin's Beard," muttered George as the teams got ready to get play underway again. "I thought we were supposed to be the reckless ones."

"Just keep an eye on the other Bludger," said Fred, wiping his sleeve across his face which had become wet from the rain. "If that starts acting up then he's in big trouble. One Bludger is bad enough, but he'd never be able to dodge both at the same time."

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and everyone took to the sky once again. It was easier keeping an eye on only one Bludger, especially since this one acted normally. The game settled down mainly due to the rain making it harder for the players to see much without having to shield their eyes. Slytherin now held a commanding lead as they had pulled ahead whilst the twins had been distracted with the rogue Bludger.

"Keep it tight," barked Oliver, as the trio of Angelina, Alicia, and Katie passed the Quaffle amongst themselves.

Although Slytherin had the faster brooms it was obvious who had the better players. Flint and his two other Chasers were unable to intercept the passes between the three girls despite their quickness, while the opposing Beaters were no match for Fred and George now that they only had one Bludger to worry about.

"Careful Fred," shouted George.

Fred, who had been gazing upward to where Harry was doing his best to dodge the rogue Bludger, looked down in time to be able to avoid the second Bludger by deflecting it away with his bat.

There was a sudden wave of shouts from the crowd while a few of them pointed into the sky. Looking up George could see Harry plummeting down whilst holding onto his broom awkwardly. The Seeker landed badly with a splattering thud before rolling off onto the ground, he looked in pain with one arm bent at an ugly unnatural angle. A cheer rose up from the majority of the spectators once they spotted the Golden Snitch shimmering in his good hand. The boy's body went limp as he passed out.

"Watch out," warned Fred, darting forward on his broom. The rogue Bludger was shooting out of the sky aiming directly for the prone body of Harry.

Fred arrived just in time to hit the Bludger away from his friend, and the metal ball bounced along the ground as everyone rushed towards Harry. The Bludger started to rise up from the ground but George was already on top of it, diving from his broom mid-air and trying to pin it down. Soon Fred joined him and the two boys struggled to get the Bludger back into its box. Even after they had secured it into place the ball continued to try and break free and head towards Harry. Madam Hooch put the Quaffle and the other Bludger back into the box, closed the lid, and with a swish of her wand locked it up tight.

A crowd had gathered around Harry, and Fred and George tried to push their way through the group but everyone was trying their best to see what was happening. There was a click and flash of light as someone took a photo.

"That was mental," said Lee, joining the twins.

"Yeah," nodded Fred. He pointed back towards the box that contained the Quidditch balls. "Someone jinxed a Bludger to go after Harry."

"I thought so," said Lee. "It looked pretty obvious that it was targeting him from the moment the match started. McGonagall is furious. Harry was lucky he only broke one arm."

"He actually broke it?" asked Fred. "I was too busy trying not to let the Bludger kill him to notice."

"Yeah, looked pretty bad," said Lee. "But Pomfrey will have him fixed up in no time."

"Eww," chorused the crowd while someone continued to take picture after picture. The group slowly dispersed and the twins could see that Harry was making his way off of the pitch along with Ron and Hermione.

"What was that about?" asked George, as Angelina joined them.

"Lockhart tried to fix Harry's broken arm, and well…" she looked a little green. "He sort of removed all the bones instead. His arm went all floppy like a worm."

"Okay, that sounds pretty cool to be honest," said George.

"He's lucky only his bones went missing," said Fred. Although everyone had been excited when the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher had started, they quickly realised that he'd rather spend entire lessons talking about himself than actually teach them anything useful. He had been at the school for a few months, but it wasn't until Angelina had pointed out after their previous lesson that they'd realised he hadn't actually taught anyone in their year a single new spell.

"Did you see that?" exclaimed Oliver beaming from ear to ear. "One handed catch with a broken arm. Amazing."

"Amazing?" snapped Angelina, jabbing her captain in the shoulder with the end of her broom. "He could have been killed."

"I know," said Oliver, rubbing his shoulder in discomfort. "But it was his choice to continue the match."

"Oh no," said Angelina, wagging her finger. "'Win or die trying,' those were your exact words. Of course he was going to continue playing."

"Okay, I should probably tone down my pre-match comments," said Oliver. "I know something that will make you feel better though."

"Yeah? What?" said Angelina defensively.

"That," said Oliver, pointing behind the girl.

The group turned around to see Flint screaming at Malfoy whilst flailing his arms in the air. The Slytherin captain was so livid that it was difficult to make out exactly everything he had said but the general gist was that Malfoy had been too busy shouted insults at Harry during the match that he missed the Snitch when it practically landed on his head.

"Yes," nodded Angelina, as Malfoy's face slowly turned red from embarrassment. "That does make me feel better."

The team had decided to pay Harry a visit in the Infirmary, with a quick detour to the kitchens to collect cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice, but Madam Pomfrey had swiftly ushered them out of the room with the insistence that Harry needed to get a good deal of rest. The team were in a celebratory mood and, with little convincing, they brought all the supplies they needed up to the Common Room where the rest of Gryffindor House had already started to party.

"Speech! Speech! Speech!" chanted the students once all the food and drink had been deposited onto to tables.

"They said they had better brooms, and they'd wipe the floor with us," said Oliver, standing up onto one of tables in the middle of the room whilst holding a goblet filled with pumpkin juice. "They said they'd humiliate us. They'd say we'd be sorry to even set foot on the Quidditch pitch with them. And do you know what we said back? We said…" Oliver looked around the room and held up his goblet, causing some of the liquid to spill out over the sides. "…fudge that."

"Fudge that?" said Fred in the ensuing silence.

"There are first years around," said Oliver pointing towards the youngest group in the room, "so have to watch the language."

"Fair enough," shrugged Fred. He raised his own glass. "Fudge that!"

"Fudge that!" chorused the room, with a smattering of laughter.

"Fudge Slytherin!" added Fred with gusto.

"Fudge Slytherin!"

"Fudge cakes!"

"Fudge cakes!"

"No, I mean actual fudge cakes, I didn't realised we'd got some of these," said Fred, pointing at the table of food. He picked up one cake, took a large bite, and then held it aloft. "Fudge cakes!"

"Fudge cakes!"

The partying went on for the rest of the day, through lunch and dinner, and late into the evening. Fred and George, along with the rest of the team, stayed in the Common Room long after everyone else had gone to bed, continuing to gorge themselves on the various treats they have brought up after several visits down to the kitchen.

"Urgh, I think I ate too much," said George, lying back in one of the twin seated sofas and rubbing his stomach.

"I did warn you," advised Angelina letting out a prolonged yawn. "I said 'don't eat all those doughnuts', but did you listen?"

"You said 'don't eat them all'? I thought you said 'doubt you can eat them all'," said George, squirming before letting out an impressively large burp.

"Why would I say that? When have you ever needed encouragement to eat a doughnut or a cake or a custard tart?"

"There are custard tarts?" said George hopefully. He leaned up on his elbows and looked at the empty table before slumping back in disappointment. He looked at Angelina. "What? There's always room for custard tarts."

Angelina looked over at Katie and Alicia and shook her head.

"I could go for a custard tart," admitted Alicia.

"Ha! See?" said George, triumphantly. "Could you pick me up a couple?"

"I said I 'could' not that I 'would'," said Alicia.

"Aw come on Alicia," complained George. "Do it for the team. Oliver, will you tell her to go for the good of morale?"

George turned to look over at their fearless captain who was sat next to him on the sofa but found that Oliver was fast asleep.

"Yeah Alicia, go get some custard tarts." said George using a finger to pull on Oliver's bottom lip up and down whilst attempting an extremely poor approximation of the boy's accent. "See? Oliver thinks you should go."

"I'll go with you," said Fred, forcing himself out of his chair. He turned to his brother. "Just as long as you promise never to try that accent again."

"That wasn't me, that was Oliver," said George. He pulled on his captain's lip once again. "Yeah, George is right. Would anyone like me to sing a song?"

"Leave him alone," said Alicia, standing up and slapping George's hand away. "I'll get some custard tarts but don't complain when you're getting sick later."

"I won't complain," said George as Fred and Alicia made their way to the portrait. "I'll be too busy getting sick for that."

"I would ask 'how do you put up with him', but you're just as bad," said Alicia, as they made their way out of the Fat Lady's portrait and into the corridor.

"Hey, I didn't eat all those doughnuts did I?"

"Is that because you didn't want to overstuff yourself or because George grabbed them first?" said Alicia, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd rather not say now," admitted Fred indignantly.

The pair walked in silence until they reached the Grand Staircase. They started to climb down the steps when the stairs they were on suddenly lurched to one side as it changed position. The unexpected motion caused Alicia to stumble slightly as she lost her balance and she ended up entirely missing the next step. Fortunately Fred reached out to grab her as she fell, unfortunately the reason he grabbed her was because he too had slipped on the stairs and had been trying to hold onto her for support. The pair held onto each other as they careened down the stairs eventually coming to a rolling stop on the next landing.

"I hate this school," groaned Fred, lying on his back. Alicia was on top of him with his arms still wrapped around her.

"What's wrong with having normal stairs that stay where they are supposed to?" mumbled Alicia as her head rested on Fred's chest. The pair seemed to realise that she was lying on top of him at the same time. "Oh sorry."

"That's okay," said Fred disconcertedly, as Alicia quickly stood up. She held out a hand to help him. "Thanks."

"You okay?" asked Alicia, rubbing her right shoulder that had taken the brunt of her fall.

"Me? Yeah, nothing wrong," said Fred, dusting off his trousers. "You?"

"Bit bruised but nothing worse than I usually get from a light training session with Oliver."

"Yeah, I'm surprised he hasn't added rolling down the stairs as an exercise to toughen us up," said Fred, as they continued to make their way down. This time they both used one hand on the bannister to steady themselves.

It didn't take them long to reach the Kitchen where they were greeted by the excited faces of the school's House Elf population, who were more than happy to pile custard tarts into Fred and Alicia's waiting arms. Eventually Fred just asked if any of them had a spare bag he could use to carry the treats and one was quickly procured from the supply room which made things much easier, as he didn't particularly want to leave a trail of dropped custard tarts all the way back to the Common Room. The added advantage of the bag meant they were able to eat one of the treats each as they walked.

Fred and Alicia elected to take a different route up to Gryffindor Tower since neither of them wanted to run the risk of failing down the stairs again when they inevitably moved. Instead they used a series of hidden corridors which had smaller tight single floor spiral staircases that they had to go up one behind the other. It was along one of these corridors they heard a shrieking sound from one end which caused them both to stop in their tracks.

"Weeeee," shouted Peeves the poltergeist, flying through the air towards them. Just before he would have passed through them he stopped and held out something. "Here you go."

"Er… thanks?" said Fred, taking the offered item instinctively. It turned out to be a bucket half filled with what looked like green paint.

"Don't mention it," said Peeves, floating upward through the ceiling.

"What was that about?" said Alicia, looking up at the spot through which Peeves had disappeared. She looked down at the bucket. "And why give you that?"

"I think I have an idea," said Fred, quickly looking up and down the corridor trying to make sure he knew his exact whereabouts.

"Who did this?!" shouted Filch's unmistakable voice coming from the direction Peeves had first appeared.

"This way," ordered Fred, dropping the bucket onto the floor and taking out his wand. The bucket toppled over onto the ground and sent a long river of green paint spilling out onto the stone.

He tapped his wand against one of the floor to ceiling tapestries on the wall which had an image of a large waterfall cascading down the side of a mountain. Immediately the water on the on the tapestry parted like a curtain and Fred jumped through the opening before dragging Alicia in behind him where they was a small enclosed space in which they could barely fit. Fred waved his wand at the back of the tapestry and the water closed back over leaving them completely in the dark.

"Lumos," said Fred. He blinked a few times as he got used to the light. He tried to look around the alcove but there was nothing else to see. He was wedged up against Alicia, practically nose to nose, with very little room to move.

"Who…"

"Shh," said Fred quickly, keeping his voice low. "It's Filch."

"Bloody students," said Filch, whose voice was muffled by the tapestry. "Where did they even get paint from? Better check the stores after this. It's everywhere. Take me ages to clean this up."

The caretaker continued to grumble to himself just the other side of the fabric, while Fred and Alicia stood in silence hoping he would leave as quickly as possible.

Fred rolled his eyes as Filch launched into one of his usual speeches about punishing students with the rack or some such medieval torture device which had long been banned at the school. Alicia went to laugh but caught herself just in time and had to bite on her lower lip to try and stifle her giggles.

A small bit of movement in the wand-light caught Fred's eye and he looked up to notice a small spider dropping down from the ceiling on a thin stream of webbing just above Alicia's head. He reached up and carefully brushed it to one side before it landed in the girl's hair.

Spider – mouthed Fred silently explaining as the girl frowned.

Thanks – Alicia replied, smiling slightly.

Should I let her know she has custard on her lip? – thought Fred, spotting the remnants of one of the tarts lingering around the girl's mouth. Before he could say something they heard Filch stomping away down the corridor complaining about having to go and get a mop and bucket.

"We should go before he comes back," advised Fred. He tapped the back of the tapestry and waited for the waterfall to part once again.

"Yeah sure…" said Alicia, coughing slightly.

"Dusty things," agreed Fred as he stepped out into the corridor. "I would suggest that Filch clean them but he very rarely listens to me."

The two fourth years made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower as quickly as they could. Outside the Fat Lady's portrait they bumped into one of the first years who Fred recalled was called Kevin or Colin who said he was on his way to visit Harry in the Infirmary to bring him some grapes. Fred warned him about Filch sulking about the school and gave the boy the safest route to use to minimise his chances of getting caught.

"You took your time," said George, as they entered the Common Room. He was sitting in the same place along with Angelina, Katie, and a still sleeping Oliver.

"Yeah, Filch almost got us. We had to hide until the coast was clear," said Fred, dropping the bag full of custard tarts down onto the table.

"I'm kinda tired," said Alicia, letting out a yawn that seemed a bit exaggerated. She caught Angelina's attention and nodded towards the stairs.

"Yeah me too," said Angelina, she prodded Katie in the ribs. "You coming too?"

"Oh yeah, sure," said Katie, jumping up from her seat and following the two older girls. "Night guys."

"Night," said Fred and George, waving to the girls before taking a custard tart each.

"That's the stuff," said George, taking a bite from the treat and snuggling down into his chair in front of the fire. "Do you think anyone would mind if I brought my blanket down and slept here tonight? I swear my bed is nowhere near as comfy as this."

"Night guys," said Katie.

"Night," replied Fred and George's from the Common Room

"So what's up? Anything strange happen?" said Angelina as the three girls climbed the steps up to the dormitories.

"Yeah, actually there was something a bit weird," admitted Alicia. She stopped on the stairs and turned to talk to the others. She kept her voice low, "I think Fred likes me."

"What do you mean likes you? As in he likes you?" said Angelina, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah, I think so," nodded Alicia.

"Did he say something?" said Katie, sounding a little excited.

"No… it was weird. We had this… moment," said Alicia. She shook her head. "I'm probably wrong."

"Just tell us what happened," said Angelina.

"We were hiding from Filch in this small space behind a tapestry," explained Alicia. "There was hardly any room so we were squished together, and out of nowhere he sort of strokes my hair."

"He stroked your hair?" said Angelina, frowning.

"Yeah," nodded Alicia. "Really gently, and then he said… well mouthed because we were being quiet… he mouthed 'nice hair'."

"'Nice hair'?" said Angelina, considering the statement for a moment. "That does actually sound like something he thinks would make a good compliment. Was that it?"

"No," said Alicia, blushing slightly.

"What?" said Katie. "Come on, what?"

"I think he was going to kiss me."

"Oh my god," exclaimed Katie in surprise, causing the other girls to shush her. She dropped her voice back down to a whisper. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah after the whole 'nice hair' comment, he looked down at my lips and had this sort of expression on his face like he was trying to decide if he should do something. But then Filch went stomping off so we escaped when we could."

"So… do you like him back?" asked Katie, trying not to smile.

"I don't know," said Alicia, shrugging her shoulders. "Never really thought about him like that."

"Are you sure?" said Angelina.

"Yeah, why?"

"Cos you're smiling."

"Am I?" said Alicia, holding her hand up to her mouth instinctively.

"You and Fred eh?" said Angelina chuckling slightly, as the girls started up the stairs once again.

"So what's up? Anything strange happen?" asked George.

"Nope," replied Fred, leaning back in the armchair and sticking his feet up onto the table.