Here's your chapter! Please leave my chest alone, GatsbyRose! *hides in corner*

Chapter dedicated to Alan Rickman, because he is excessively attractive for an older man. Also because there's no Snape in this one T^T

"I almost told your brother," the bushy-haired girl told Ron conversationally, folding her arms. "He's a prefect, he would have stopped you. I can't believe anyone would be so selfish, think of all the points you'll lose, even all those points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells, just for some stupid game-"

"Go away," Ron snapped, holding open the portrait for Harry to jump through. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

The nerve of that girl! Interfering with something that wasn't her business. Ron couldn't believe that she would consider going to his brother, he would have been in so much trouble. She was such a know-it-all goody-goody. He really couldn't stand her. He could still hear her lecturing as the portrait swung closed behind Corvus- who he also couldn't stand, stupid spoilt rich brat, but sometimes he wasn't so bad- she must have followed them out.

"Look," he turned to her and glared as forcefully as he could, "If you have a problem with it then fine. Do whatever. We don't care, we're going to be late."

And there was no way he was going to be late to a meeting with Slytherins. Not a chance. He wouldn't show them any sort of weakness.

Hermione glared right back. "Fine, I'm going back to bed- but don't think I'm not going to tell Professor-"

She stopped abruptly. Ron glanced behind him and saw that the Fat Lady had waltzed off somewhere to do who-cares-what in someone else's portrait. The common room was completely impenetrable from the outside.

"Now what am I going to do?" Hermione said in a small voice.

Surprisingly, Harry was the one who replied. "You might as well come with us."

"What? What if you get caught?"

"Doesn't matter," Ron interrupted. "We're going to be late. We're leaving now. Do what you want."

"Do you think they're coming?"

"Of course they will. Harry wants to fly, remember?"

Theo watched the others in silent resentment. He hadn't even been there when they made their stupid plans. He'd been in dinner already, having ditched the flying lesson halfway through, when Madam Hooch had left. It was bad enough that they'd made fun of him for wanting to keep his feet firmly on the ground. Honestly, if wizards were meant to fly, they would have been given wings, thank-you-very-much.

Eleven o'clock at night, and Draco and Blaise had dragged him out of bed, not even bothering to kidnap Gregory or Vincent, and hauled him out to the Quidditch Pitch in his pyjamas. Daphne was trying not to laugh at his dilemma, and he considered walking back up to school, but that would seem like he was running away; it wouldn't at all be considered that he had spotted the ominous thunderclouds approaching from the north.

Footsteps in the darkness heralded the arrival of the three Gryffindors. Theo blinked, took off his glasses, cleaned them, put them back on, then blinked again.

No, they definitely had multiplied.

"Why are Longbottom and Granger here?"

Corvus shrugged. "Granger is stalking us and Neville got lost. Why are you in your pyjamas?"

"I was abducted and brought here against my will."

Theo's sulking was interrupted by a screech of frustration from the two girls over by the broom shed. Tracey was practically stabbing the lock with her wand, shouting nonsense words, while Pansy stamped her foot angrily. Daphne, standing a short way away, raised an eyebrow. "You've forgotten the incantation again, haven't you?"

"Oh, move over!" the Granger girl commanded impatiently. She swished her wand. "Alohomora!"

Nothing happened. Pansy giggled spitefully. "Oh, the Mudblood was expecting to be better-"

The door creaked open gently. Pansy, wisely, shut up, ignoring the victory smirk on Granger's face. Broomsticks were passed around. Within a few minutes, everyone had one, even Theo, who couldn't fly to save his life, Granger, who looked as though she was about to scream, and Longbottom, who was green at the prospect. Blaise and Daphne were already off the ground, chasing each other and laughing.

Theo threw his broom to the side and sat down on the cold, slightly damp ground. The Elves would clean his pyjamas later, so it didn't matter if he got muddy. He found himself joined by the Mudblood and Longbottom seconds later, while Corvus and Weasley showed Harry how to kick off and joined the others in the air.

"I can't believe I'm here," Granger whispered, almost inaudibly. "I'm going to get in so much trouble…"

"Not if you don't tell anyone."

Theo watched her reaction to his words carefully. She tensed at the notion of keeping quiet. Clearly this girl was used to trusting blindly in authority. He sighed. "Look, you are, as much as it pains me to say it, one of us now, an accomplice, because you were the one who opened the broom shed. Let's just hope no one gets hurt… then we'll be in trouble."

Granger fell silent. Longbottom fell back onto the grass and groaned.

Weasley turned out to be a pretty good flyer, actually. Draco did not find this amusing. He didn't like the redhead, he didn't want him here and he had particularly wanted to drive him away from Corvus and Harry, who he rather liked. Unfortunately, Weasley wasn't that bad. Draco decided that something had to be done about him.

In the meantime, Harry was a natural; a loop-the-loop barrel-roll fast-as-the-broom-will-go first-time-flight natural. Currently, he was flying circles around everyone else in delight. Draco wished he was that good.

Shaking himself out of his alternating awe and irritation, he directed the rickety school broom downwards. Scaring Theo would be more fun than this.

He had almost reached the ground when Theo leapt up, yelling and gesturing towards the sky with a panic-stricken look. He urgently flew over to the other boy as the group began to land. "What's the matter? Did you see a teacher? Have we been caught?"

"No!" Theo shouted, "But the clouds-"

And the heavens opened.

The five Gryffindors stumbled up the stairs towards the entrance hall, dripping wet and covered in mud. The exhilaration Harry had felt whilst flying had all but faded by this point, and it didn't help that the Slytherins had fled at the first sign of rain, taking a side door into the castle that led almost straight to their common room, or so they had said. At Hermione's insistence, the Gryffindors had remained to put the brooms back and relock the broom shed. Interestingly, it was Neville who knew the locking charm.

"My grandmother always uses it," he had explained hurriedly, "I must have seen her do it a million times- it's probably the only charm I know."

Ron knew a good cleaning charm of his mother's that got rid of most of the mud, but they were still soaked to the skin and terrified that they were going to be caught. As luck would have it, as the group trooped up the main staircase towards Gryffindor Tower, Harry froze. Years of waiting for his uncle's snores to fill the house so he could sneak into the kitchen for a sandwich had honed his sense of hearing- and right now, he heard laughter. "I think… I think Peeves is coming!"

Sure enough, there was Peeves. Corvus sighed. "Can this night get any worse?"

"Sure it can, ickle Blackie firstie," Peeves cackled. A sinking feeling announced itself in the pit of Harry's stomach, and for good reason.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED ON THE MAIN STAIRCASE!"

As of right now, Harry really hated Peeves.

"Oh no! What do we do?"

"Run, Granger," Corvus advised. "We just run."

The sound of Peeves' shouting was soon left behind as the first years tore up the staircases, scared out of their wits. Filch was going to catch them. Filch was going to catch them and they would be expelled, they would be sent home, and Corvus would never get to see Harry again because Grandmother didn't like halfbloods. This realisation was what prompted Corvus to drag Harry and Neville into a side corridor and straight to the very end. He barely noticed Ron and Granger following them; he just assumed they would.

Filch was not going to catch them.

"Where did they go, Peeves?"

Or maybe he was.

Ron rattled the door handle in frustration. "It's locked! We're going to get caught!"

"Oh, move over!" snapped Hermione, uttering the same spell she had used to open the broom shed a few hours earlier. The door sprang open. The first years hurried inside, slamming it behind them.

Pressing his ear against the door, Corvus heard Filch question Peeves, Peeves trick him, and Filch curse quite explicitly as Peeves flew away. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, Peeves didn't give us away, we should be okay now, Filch thinks this door is locked-"

"For good reason."

Corvus followed the direction Harry was looking in and came face to face with a three pairs of mad eyes and three mouths full of yellowish fangs that looked like each one could swallow him whole.

To hell with it, he thought to himself as the five Gryffindors screamed and fled the room, out of Filch and death, he'd take Filch. Little did he know his companions were all thinking the exact same thing.

Of all the rooms to end up in, they ended up the forbidden third floor corridor! Stupid, spoilt rich brat, almost getting them killed! Ron silently fumed as they stumbled into the common room. Honestly! That was the last time he ever listened to that brat.

He didn't consider how much trouble they would have been in if they were caught by Filch, but such is the way eleven-year-old Ronald Weasley saw the world. He collapsed into a chair by the fire, trying to catch his breath. "What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?"

"Didn't you see what it was standing on?" Hermione sat up straight suddenly, as though she had had a brilliant idea. "It was standing on a trap door."

Corvus glanced over at her. "Maybe it's guarding something."

She smiled, triumphant, for a second, but then it was gone, and she was humourless again. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves," she bit out, stalking over to the girls' staircase. "We could all have been killed, or worse… expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Hermione vanished to the girls' dormitories. Stupid, stuck up, know-it-all girl! "She needs to sort out her priorities."

Harry and Neville both nodded, but, oddly enough, Corvus shook his head, wet hair parted down the middle like a curtain.

"No, I think she's got the right idea."

Sorry for not replying to reviews this week, stuff happened and I accidentally deleted all my emails. I am such a dork. Anyway, review please! Even though this chapter kind of... sucked.