Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JKR. Enjoy!


"Fred, if you try and look at my star chart one more time, I'm going to glue you to the outside of this tower," I threatened from behind my telescope.

"How can you even see me?" he exclaimed, skulking back over to his own work.

Lee roared with laughter, and I peered down at his parchment. "You realize Venus won't be in view for another six months, right?"

Now it was George's turn to gloat; unfortunately, everything he had written down was correct.

"So," Fred tried again. "How were your rounds with that Slytherin? Better or worse than it would have been with Kenneth, do you reckon?"

I scowled. "'That Slytherin' is named Gemma, and I'll have you know she's actually very friendly."

Lee snorted. "A Slytherin, friendly? Right."

"And just how many Slytherins have you had actual conversations with?" I rounded on him, hands on my hips.

"Are you sure she hasn't met our mother?" I heard George whisper to Fred, but I ignored them.

With a shake of his head, Lee set down his chart. "Prudence, you don't get it. You don't have to talk to them to know they're nasty. Rotten to the core, the lot of them. Raised by Death Eaters. Their brains are molded to the agenda of seriously evil wizards."

I was shaking with fury, but tried to remain calm lest jokes about my sanity came about. "Not every Slytherin was raised under a Death Eater. They're not all evil, just like not all Gryffindors are good. There have been students from Gryffindor house who have gone on to do very questionable things, and we all know it."

"Just be careful is all I'm saying," Lee cautioned, despite George's gestures for him to stop.

"Gemma's a half-blood, and her father owns a robeswear shop; that's hardly grounds for calling her evil. Besides, my mother was a Gryffindor, and she was friends with Slytherins in a time of the war." I tossed my hair back in a Noel-esque fashion.

"Prudence, we're in a time of war too," George said quietly.

I turned back to my telescope. "Then shouldn't we be standing together?"


November passed slowly. Due to an increase of quidditch practices – mainly the Gryffindors, who had to try out three new players and rebuild their team – there had been no more DA meetings, and Noel was anxious for more.

"I just want to learn more spells to use on Umbridge when I graduate! She won't be able to punish me!" she would say innocently with a bat of her eyes. I could see Lee's lovesick expression in my mind.

Grace had been even more insufferable as of late. She had finally ensnared Martin in her master plan to stick it to Noel, but her plan backfired. Noel had stopped being interested in the quidditch captain long ago, and now Grace was stuck in a relationship with someone whose idea of a good time was getting plastered and spouting off quidditch statistics.

"For you, Prudence," came from behind me, and I turned around at the Gryffindor table to see Luna holding out a scroll for me.

"Hi Luna, thanks!" I took the parchment from her, examining a strand of corks hanging down her robes. "Er, cool necklace."

Lee choked on his eggs, and Noel thumped him on the back with a roll of her eyes. "Ooh, thank you. I collect the bottles too!" she said brightly, and wandered away.

"Loony, that one," George said with a shake of his head.

I returned to my newspaper. "I like her. She's sweet."

Fred slurped his pumpkin juice, and Angelina gave him a look of disgust from down the table. "First a Slytherin, now Loony Lovegood? Are we not good enough for you, Prudence?"

"If someone makes another mention about who I choose to speak with, they will find this sausage up one or both nostrils, I haven't yet decided," I grumbled, rustling my paper and putting it up in front of my face.

"We just miss you is all!" George said, charming the Prophet to be translucent so I could see his face. He waggled his brows.

Lee tore his attention away from Noel, who was scrawling hastily on a roll of parchment like her life depended on it. "Yeah, you haven't tested any products in weeks. What have you been doing, hanging out in the dungeons?"

"Do you lot even care about things that exist outside of your little sphere of oblivion? Look at this paper! It has an entire article praising Umbridge for what she's been doing here! And now they're trying to get Harry's case reopened," I remarked, smoothing it down on the table in front of me.

"What?!"

Ron, who was sitting several seats down, knocked his ketchup-covered knife off the table, where it went skidding along the floor until it reached the feet of a tiny Ravenclaw.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly Ronald, it's a miracle you haven't seriously hurt someone. And if you'd been listening to me when I told you about that article ten minutes ago instead of stuffing your face, you wouldn't be so surprised."

"Is that why Harry's not here?" he asked thickly, swallowing the mass amount of food in his mouth.

"Oh for Pete's sake," I muttered under my breath.

George raised a brow. "Are you having issues with my brother?"

Flushing, I took a long sip of my tea. "Absolutely not."

"It's okay, he irritates us too!" Fred said, to which Ron responded with a very rude hand gesture.

George leaned in. "Hey, with six siblings, you can't like them all."

"Who else don't you like?" I asked in interest.

The duo exchanged a dark glance. "We don't speak of Percy the Puffheaded Piss-stain," Fred answered.

Even Noel glanced up at this. "Christ, he must have done something bad for the two of you to be this upset about it."

"He believes Fudge," Lee explained, while the twins were still glaring down at their plates.

Huh. I hadn't known that, although with Percy's love for authority I suppose I should have gathered. And since Fred and George had the utmost faith in Harry, it was clear what choice they would make. Wow. I wondered what it must have been like when this all came to fruition. If I had a sibling, I couldn't imagine what I would've done if he or she suddenly abandoned me.

"Who's that scroll from?" Noel asked, and I looked down at it in shock.

"Oh, I don't know…" I murmured, hastily opening it.

Miss Turner,

Professor McGonagall has informed me of your conversation, and it is my wish that you should meet me tonight at 8 o'clock in my office, if that is convenient for you.

Yours most sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. I enjoy Fudge Flies

George, who had been reading nosily over my shoulder, blinked. "Dumbledore requested a meeting with you? He's never even done that for us!"

"Yeah, and we've broken more school rules than everyone else here combined!" Fred pouted indignantly.

"Some things are more important than pranks," I reminded them tersely, tucking the scroll and paper away in my satchel. "Come on Lee, it's potions today."


I was so completely distracted in Snape's class that I added lacewing flies before I stirred clockwise three times, and the Saliva-Inducing Solution I was brewing became so thick that it congealed heavily in the cauldron.

"No, no, no!" I moaned to myself, hastily dragging my book towards me to see if there were any instructions on how to fix it.

Biting on my lips, I stared at the unicorn horn shavings in front of me. They were typically used for thinning out potions, because their magical properties were so concentrated…perhaps…

Furtively looking around, I dumped a small scoop into my cauldron. I waited anxiously, until a small bubble expanded and popped. Suddenly, all the air in it seemed to evaporate, and I was left with a soup-like brew.

I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding, and continued down the ingredients list, double checking every instruction three times. When the bell rang, I corked a small vial of my solution and brought it up to Snape's desk for grading.

He observed it for a moment. "This looks much more potent…did you add an extra item? Perhaps a shrivelfig, or boomslang skin?"

"No Sir…I added my lacewing flies too early and I needed to thin it out so I-I put in some unicorn horn shavings." I said this all in one breath, cringing slightly at the end.

His obsidian eyes glittered maliciously. "If you had even the slightest clue what the theorem behind this particular potion was, you would know that any added ingredient would, instead of creating saliva, suck out all the bodily fluids, effectively killing the taker. You'll be receiving a Dreadful."

A Dreadful? I'd never gotten anything below an Acceptable in my entire life! "Sir, please. If I brew this again, tonight, and bring it to you tomorrow, will you consider raising my grade one letter?"

Montague snorted loudly from behind me, and Martin gave me a pitying look.

"I do not take late assignments for any type of grading. However, if you would find it…prudent…you may bring a new solution to me by tomorrow morning and I will take it into consideration for your overall classroom average," he said finally.

My eyes widened in disbelief. "Yes, yes, thank you Professor!"

Before he could change his mind, I grabbed my satchel, shouldered it, and walked quickly from the room, feeling oddly triumphant.


"Prudence, for Merlin's sake just go to your meeting!" Noel exclaimed as I sighed and tossed my book down for the tenth time.

I'd gone to the library after classes and found myself completely incapable of concentrating on work. After an hour of staring at my textbooks blankly, I'd gone to the kitchens for some tea to help calm my nerves. When that hadn't worked, I'd tried to have an in-depth conversation about the differences between wizard magic and elf magic with a house elf named Dobby, who was strangely enough wearing socks over his ears.

When that had also failed to decrease my anxiety, I'd returned to my room, where I'd wandered around in circles until Noel had gotten so irritated that she offered to teach me beauty techniques. Figuring that this would hold my attention due to the fact that it was something I knew nothing about, I had agreed. After stabbing myself in the eye several times and I'd been forced to apply a sticky glue to my skin which had left it with a slightly orange tinge, I'd put an end to the session and begun to read one of the books about genealogy from the library, but even this failed to pique my interest.

"I'm sorry, but I've never had a personal conversation with the Headmaster before!" I snapped, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes in frustration.

I'd only ever seen Professor Dumbledore in the Great Hall at meal times. He didn't exactly walk around looking in on our classes. He was the greatest sorcerer of all time – he'd accomplished more than 90% of the wizarding population by the time he graduated Hogwarts. He had obligations that kept him locked up in his office. I suspected he was often away from the school as well, tending to matters that far surpassed the duties of school leader.

Then there was something to be said for the content of our conversation. He wouldn't be meeting with me if he didn't have anything to say, right? So that meant that he knew something about my mother. A shiver ran down my spine and with a jolt, I stood.

"Okay, I'm going to go." My voice was terse and my fingers shook.

"Prudence, relax. He's Dumbledore, not an axe murderer," Noel said drily, blowing on her freshly painted nail. She spent more time putting polish on than studying, and still she got the same grades as me.

Straightening out my collar, I nodded. "Right."

I'd had to ask Harry Potter where Dumbledore's office was when I'd seen him as classes let out earlier today. I supposed its location wasn't really a secret, but only those who had been there knew where it was, and until now I'd never had a reason to seek out the Headmaster.

It was a relatively short walk, as it was only on the second floor, and I followed Harry's instructions until I came across a grotesque looking gargoyle, whose spiked tail, though made of stone, looked like it was ready to lash out should I attempt to pass.

"Password?" it asked smoothly.

"Er-Fudge Flies." I had also asked Harry what Dumbledore's post scriptum meant, and had been told that was how he hinted what his password was. It was almost always a type of candy, apparently. Dumbledore was a strange man. A very brilliant, strange man.

The gargoyle sprung sideways as a spiral staircase began to rise right out of the floor. Timidly, I stepped on, and it took me to the top of a tower I had never known existed. Could I even see it from outside? With everything shaking, I reached out a pale knuckle and rapped on the door.

"Enter."

The door swung open, and I was overwhelmed by the surprising size of the room before me. It was circular, and full of things I had never seen before, at least not in person. There were hardly any real walls; they were mainly bookshelves, most of which had titles in languages I could not determine. It was cluttered with tables supported by strange, spindly legs that held tiny gadgets that made odd noises.

On the small stretches of wall that did not contain books, there were portraits of witches and wizards whom I assumed were previous Headmasters. Most of them were dozing off, nightcaps adorning their heads, but some were watching me. Goosebumps rose against my skin.

"Ah, Miss Turner. I am delighted that we finally have the chance to speak in person," Dumbledore said from his position behind a large desk that was covered in papers and books.

Noticing my gaze, he smiled. "It does get rather hectic running a school sometimes, I'm afraid."

"Yes sir, I would imagine so," I spoke, my voice quiet. I felt out of my element in a room where nothing quite seemed to have a place.

His sharp, blue eyes found mine. "Please, have a seat."

I followed his instructions and wiped my palms against my skirt. My throat felt scratchy.

There was a pause as he scrawled something on a slip of parchment. "Professor McGonagall informed me that you were seeking information about your mother."

"Yes sir, it's just that…" I froze. I couldn't tell him what had struck my research. If he knew I was breaking school rules, for a club we named Dumbledore's Army, which was completely insulting the entire Ministry, surely I'd be in trouble. "Well you see, I had a dream the other night."

"Oh?" he folded his hands neatly onto his desk. "I have found that dreams have often times led me quite astray. Once I dreamt that I would find the secret to immortality if I followed a house elf named Hanky to America. Of course, dreams can also be indicators of our futures. May I inquire as to what yours was about?"

Blinking, I wondered how much I should tell him. "Several nights ago, I dreamt about…about the Triwizard Tournament." He looked unsurprised, but said nothing, so I continued. "I saw Cedric Diggory. He was at the mercy of a wizard wearing a metal mask. They couldn't hear me, so I watched. Until- until the masked wizard killed him.

"As soon as that happened, everything changed, and I was in a room with my mother. It was dark, but I could tell it was her. She looked normal though. Nothing like she does now." I looked down at my lap.

"Did she say anything to you?" I glanced up quizzically. Surely he didn't know about my dream. He couldn't…right?

I had to force the words out. "She was telling me about how brave I was. She mentioned- Well Sir, I think she was speaking about another war. But there's not going to be another war, is there?"

We observed each other for a moment. "Miss Turner, I don't think you would have come to speak with me if you merely wanted to know about your mother."

One of the portraits sniffed and I jumped in my seat. "Professor Dumbledore, I know that you started an organization in the 1970s, one that fought the Death Eaters."

"I did, yes. Many, many years ago," he said sagely. He peered down at me over his crescent moon-shaped glasses.

I felt oddly like my brain was being examined. "I've read about it…many of the people who joined were aurors, or were affiliated with the auror department. And I found out that two of my mother's best friends from school, the Prewett boys, were in it, and they died around the same time that my mother was cursed."

He said nothing. "So…so…was my mother a part of your group? Did she fight against You-Know-Who? Is that how she ended up…losing her mind?"

"Voldemort's rise to power took many great witches and wizards before their times. Many Muggles as well. Those who were brave enough risked their lives every day to fight for justice, and an end to the stigma against the non-magical." Dumbledore sounded like a salesman, although his face showed weariness and exhaustion.

"Your mother was very brave. She was one of the finest witches to pass through this school. Which is why, when she came to me one night shortly after graduation, I extended an invitation to her to join my new society, the Order of the Phoenix."

He paused, probably to allow me to process his words. They settled over me like a blanket, thick and heavy. Of course I'd begun to suspect, but to hear it from Dumbledore himself was something entirely different. My mother had been so courageous. The epitome of Gryffindor House.

"Professor, in my dream, my mother was screaming for help. She yelled for two people in particular, Frank and Alice. I mean, I know it was only a dream, but were there any people in the Order of the Phoenix with those names?" I felt like I was grasping at straws.

"There were. They were aurors as well, though they were several years younger than your mother, and less experienced. One night shortly after the downfall of Voldemort, I received information of a Death Eater base on the outskirts of London, and when I brought this evidence to the Order the both of them volunteered immediately."

I edged forward on my chair slightly. Several of the witches and wizards were doing the same in their portraits. "Of course, being inexperienced, I was less than eager to send them into London alone, especially if this were to be a trap. I asked your mother to assist them. We gathered more knowledge and details for the next two days, but we were pressed for time and we had to move quickly, as more and more Death Eaters were going into hiding and we didn't want to lose our chance.

"The three of them made it into the building safely; we'd come to learn later that it was the home of a man named Bartemius Crouch, Junior. The man who had gathered this intelligence for us had done well, but even he could not have known about all of the protection charms that were placed on the inner rooms. You see, his home was like a maze, or a labyrinth."

My stomach churned. Perhaps the maze from my dream was not meant for Cedric. It may have been meant for my mother.

His eyes darkened slightly. "There came a room where the three became trapped upon entering, and it set off an alarm to all those who were living there. It was not Bartemius Crouch who found them, but another Death Eater, a woman by the name of Bellatrix Lestrange, and her husband Rodolphus."

"Oh my God…" I whispered. I fought back the bile that was rising in my throat.

"Bellatrix thought they might have information about her master. You see, she did not believe him to be dead. She wanted to find out what they knew, but in her eagerness, she overestimated the strength of the human psyche." Dumbledore stopped for a moment to assess me before continuing. "By the time the rest of the Order got there, it was too late. For all intents and purposes, their minds were gone."

My eyes squeezed tightly shut and I hunched over to prevent my nausea from overtaking me. "But Sir," I managed. "Sometimes, I mean only a few times, but it's happened – sometimes, she knows who I am. She's lucid."

"Yes…" Dumbledore trailed off, his gaze falling towards the left, where one of the small, silver devices gave off a puff of purple smoke. "Every person reacts to the Cruciatus Curse very differently. Your mother was a fighter by nature, and she may have been able to resist slightly longer than the Longbottoms. But I shouldn't like to get your hopes up; she may very well be like this forever."

I ignored his stern look, my brow furrowing. "The Longbottoms? Does that mean-"

"I am afraid, Miss Turner, that you are not the only student at this school who lost a parent that night."

The Headmaster suddenly looked very old. Dumbledore's collected exterior and serene smile typically made him look much younger, and had always made me feel safer, knowing that he wasn't worried. But right now, he looked like he'd lived through a thousand battles.

Neville. It all made sense now. How he always talked about his grandmother, but no one knew anything about his parents. His parents who had fought alongside my mother, essentially died alongside my mother. In the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's personal organization. Where were they now? But from the look on Dumbledore's face, I knew now was not the time to ask.

"Sir?" I spoke up, and he inclined his head. "If you started the Order of the Phoenix when You-Know-Who came to power, and now you say he's back, does that mean that you'll be starting another Order?"

He chuckled. "I think it's safe to say that there will always be witches and wizards willing to fight on the side of equality, yes."

I chewed on my lip. I clenched and unclenched my hands, the scars on my left hand stretching each time. A clock on the wall behind me ticked slowly as an elderly woman with a polka-dotted nightgown sniffed. "I'd like to join."

"Miss Turner, surely you must be aware that I cannot place the students of my school in such danger," he said, his voice unexpectedly firm.

"When I graduate then, like my mother," I said eagerly, looking him properly in the eye for the first time since I'd stepped foot in the office.

I expected him to say no. What would he want with a Hufflepuff who had barely spoken to anyone for six years and was scared of her own shadow? "If, after you graduate, you still find yourself wishing to follow in your mother's footsteps, then I should be glad to have you."

"Thank you, Sir." Surprised, I rose, straightening my skirt.

As I turned and headed for the door, he stopped me. "Miss Turner."

"Yes Professor?"

He was silent for a moment. "I would expect any member of the Order to be able to call Voldemort by his true identity. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

I nodded. "Of course, Sir."


I was the last one back into the dormitory that night. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, yanked on a pair of pajamas, and closed my hangings without a word to either of them. My mother had gone out fighting Death Eaters, next to Frank and Alice Longbottom. She'd been sent to protect them. She was brave, and a real leader. Maybe I could be one, too. My fingers clamped around the locket, and the steady beat of my heart soon matched my breathing as I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up the next morning feeling oddly refreshed. I'd had my first nightmare-free sleep in weeks. I leapt out of bed and scrambled into the bathroom before Grace could claim it for two hours. I stopped and looked at myself in the mirror, and I was startled to see the resemblance between my reflection and the woman who had been in my dream.

I'd never gotten the chance to see my mother whole and healthy - I'd only seen her in photographs. I got most of my appearance from her, except for the freckles; those were my dad's, from the Welsh side of my family.

My hair had grown, and it cascaded down my back in dark waves. My eyes, a deep shade of hazel, looked back at me without the fear that had been living in my heart since the age of three. Knowing what had happened to my mother, knowing how and why, knowing that there had been people out there protecting the public and that she had been one of them…it was strangely liberating.

After I showered, I curled up on my bed with the genealogy book and stared at the family trees of the Prewett and Weasley families as I waited for Noel.

It was getting harder to deny the parallels between my mother's life at Hogwarts and my own. Her friends had been mixed between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. She had befriended two redheaded twins who happened to be Fred and George's uncles. She was a prefect. Her favorite book was my own, To Kill a Mockingbird, and she'd gotten in trouble for reading it in class. She'd even been friendly with some Slytherins, and the other night I had found myself enamored with Gemma.

"Are you ready to go? I'm starving," Noel announced as she pulled back my curtains.

I slid the book into my satchel and stuck my feet into my shoes. "I've been waiting for you for thirty minutes you bint."

"Someone's sassy this morning," she replied with an eye roll, and we set off for the Great Hall.

We were surpassed by a cluster of younger Hufflepuffs on our way through the Entrance Hall. "It's snowing!" one of them cried, and upon passing through the doorway and looking up at the enchanted ceiling, it appeared he was right.

"Phwoar, there must've been a blizzard overnight." Noel looked disenchanted at her words.

With a shrug, I walked over to where Lee and the twins were already digging into breakfast, and I snagged a cube of melon off of George's plate. "Anyone up for a snowball fight?"

"Hello? Prudence? Are you in there?" Fred made a big show out of knocking on my head and yelling into my ear. Noel snorted into her porridge.

"Oh shut up," I said, shoving him towards Lee. "It's a Saturday, and it's the first snow of the season. I love the snow."

Cedric and I had once taken a walk in the snow, in our fifth year. I'd dared him to walk out onto the frozen lake; of course he'd done it.

"If it's a snowball fight you want, then a snowball fight you shall have," George declared gallantly.

"Count me out," Noel drawled.

Lee looked alarmed. "No, you have to go!"

All three of us stared at him. "Why?" Noel asked slowly.

"Because we can't have Prudence all by herself on a team, can we?"

George raised a brow. "I was going to be on Prudence's team."

"See? It's all settled," Noel declared, returning to her breakfast.

"No, it's not. Everyone knows it's supposed to be boys against girls in snowball fights." Lee folded his arms across his chest and nodded confidently.

At this, both Fred and George exchanged a glance and leaned in close to their friend. "Lee, mate," Fred started.

"You really need to get laid!" George finished, and the duo high-fived over Lee's head.

With a sigh, I set my spoon down. "Noel, you're coming. Lee, stop acting weird. Fred and George, please stop celebrating like you've accomplished something, your eggs are about to run off your plates."

"You're so bossy this morning," Fred pouted, his fork catching his egg yolks just in time to stop them falling into his lap.

"I like it," George winked.


"This is so bloody stupid." Noel wrapped her arms more tightly around herself as the wind whipped her hair out behind her.

I rolled my eyes. "Noel, you wouldn't be this cold if you weren't dressed like you were about to walk the runway."

When we'd returned to our dormitories to get ready for the snowball fight, I'd discovered that aside from her black wool cloak, Noel did not own any actual winter clothing. I was wearing a thick fleece underneath my jacket, a pair of long underwear beneath my pants, and a pair of rubber Wellingtons. I also had thick gloves, a hat capped over my ears, and a scarf wound up to my eyes. Just because I liked the snow didn't mean I enjoyed being cold.

"Well excuse me for never partaking in something so juvenile as tossing snow at someone's face," she hissed.

The boys were well ahead of us. They, unlike Noel, were quite excited by the prospect of the fight. They were running around like a pack of dogs, trying to stuff snow down one another's pants.

"OI, HOW ABOUT HERE?" Fred called, and I gave him the thumbs up.

"Come on, I want to start!" I grabbed Noel's wrist and forced her to run, her complaining about her designer boots all the while.

The two of us squared off against the twins and Lee, who was eyeing us intimidatingly. Or at least, what he thought was intimidating.

"Okay, we each get fifteen minutes to make our own forts. At the fifteen minute mark, George will whistle to signal we're starting. After that, there's no rules," Fred declared. The trio crossed their arms.

The chill of the air stung my exposed cheeks, but I forced myself to step forward. "You're on." I shook Fred's hand. He gave me a suspicious smile.

"Ready…go!" Lee yelled, and we all sprinted in different directions.

"Noel, over here, hurry!" I waved her over frantically, and with a roll of her eyes, she lightly jogged to where I was standing. "Okay, here's what I'm thinking. We build a fort around this tree; it'll be completely circular so we can move around and see them wherever they are."

She blinked. "Right. Sounds good."

I sighed, smiling nonetheless. I was determined to enjoy myself. "Okay, I'll start making the fort, you start making the snowballs. They said no rules, so use your wand!"

Eagerly, I levitated a large bank of snow to land in front of me, where it began to mold itself into a three foot wall of ice. Once the outside had been taken care of, I turned to observe the tree. Using both my wand and my hands, I pulled down several large branches to conceal our heads.

"Hey!" Noel shrieked as a clump of snow was deposited onto her. "This hat is Givenchy!"

"Sorry," I snickered, trying and failing to hide my smirk.

She shoved me, a tiny smile appearing on her face as well. "Bint."

Suddenly, a loud whistle pierced the air, and dozens of snowballs began to fly straight at our faces.

"DUCK!" I bellowed, yanking Noel down. "Where are they coming from?"

Noel crawled around to the other side of the tree. "I think…AGH!"

She returned with a face full of snow. "Over there," she said bitterly. "They are so dead."

With a warrior cry, Noel leapt over the wall, using her wand to whip up a snowball the size of Wales. It somehow absorbed all the snowballs being tossed her way, making it grow even larger.

"That is not something you see every day," I muttered to myself, following behind her more cautiously. I dodged behind another tree as a sparkling, purple snowball whizzed by inches from my face. Peering between two small tree limbs, I looked around. I couldn't see anything. I could no longer hear Noel's odd war cry. It was silent…too silent.

"GOT YOU!" a voice bellowed from behind me, and I found myself wrapped against George, his hand over my mouth.

I bit at it hand furiously. "George!" I cried when he briefly removed it. "St-"

He clamped it back over my mouth. "Now Prudence, the only way I'll release you is if you agree to surrender."

I shook my head emphatically, only to find myself being lifted into the air.

"Suit yourself," he said innocently, then began to whistle as he dragged me through the snow.

"Okimph, okimph," I managed through his palm.

George retracted his hand. "I'm sorry love, what was that?"

"I said, okay. I give up." My tone was sour as he set me back on my feet.

He patted my shoulder. "It's okay Prudence, most people are unprepared for battle with the Weasley twins. Compared to us, everyone is an amateur – HEY!"

With a giggle, I turned tail and ran as fast as I could. George was now buried under a pile of snow thanks to the convenient positioning of a pine tree, but I didn't know how long it would hold him off. "NOEL! NOEL, WHERE ARE YOU!" I yelled, trying to locate my teammate.

A quick glance behind me showed that George was now hot on my heels, Fred also joining the race. He'd been disguised to blend in with a nearby bush. "NOEL – oh."

Blinking, I came to an abrupt halt as I found her lying in the snow and straddling Lee's waist.

"Well it's about time." George came to stand beside me.

The pair showed no signs of stopping. Lee's hands went somewhere inappropriate. "Shall we head back up to the castle and get lunch then?" I suggested vaguely, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight in front of me.

"A great idea!" Fred avowed, and George gently took hold of my elbow, pulling me after him.

I guess I couldn't say I hadn't seen it coming.


A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for the wait! I'm on spring break now, yay! I hope you enjoyed it, especially the fluffy little bit at the end :) I just couldn't end it after the meeting with Dumbledore, it would have been entirely too depressing. Does anyone else like Noel and Lee, or is it just me? UP NEXT: Hagrid returns, one of Noel's exes emerges, and the Slytherins get a bigger story line. Stay tuned!