AU! No Voldemort.

WRITTEN FOR QLFC, RESERVE LEAGUE

SEASON 4, ROUND 3

Ballycastle Bats

Restriction: WC between 950 and 1200.

WC: 1172

Fred was almost asleep when a squeaking sound reached his ears. At first, he thought it was Scabbers scuttling into the room, but a few seconds later, when the squeaking turned into scratching overhead, Fred knew it couldn't be Percy's rat.

Terror filled him as he began to imagine the most terrifying things he'd read about in Bill's Defence textbook. Even at the age of seven, Fred had a strong imagination, and he often used it to think up pranks with George. But now, the same skill was leading him down a spiralling road of despair and fear.

What if it was a Dementor?

What if it was a murderer?

What if it was You-Know-Who?

What if it was a squirrel? Fred was terrified of squirrels. Once, a large brown squirrel had bit his hand when he'd tried to feed it, and he had feared the creatures ever since.

Despite his obvious terror, Fred fisted his hands, promising himself that he would get at least one hit in on the intruder. He'd asked Percy to read him different crime novels, and now, he imagined himself to be a master at self-defence. Also, Bill and Charlie had taught the twins a few fighting moves, so there was that, too.

Fists held up in front of his face, Fred slowly sat up, and in the darkness, something thwacked his head as it flew by. Fred's heart climbed into his throat, and he almost screamed when something clawed at his hair before moving away quickly. He ducked under his duvet and extended his leg out to kick his twin brother, who was on the other bed a few feet away. Barely tapping George's awkwardly sprawled leg with his toes, Fred hissed, "George, George! Wake up! Something's in here with us."

George had always been the heavy sleeper of the two, and Fred had often had to resort to violence to wake his twin up. But Fred couldn't do that now; he was terrified of climbing out of his bed.

He nudged George's leg again and whimpered as something banged against the window. "George, for Merlin's sake, wake up! Something's in here with us!"

A miracle happened just then. George yawned and rolled over to the edge of the bed. "Whatdya want?"

"Something's in here," Fred hissed, his duvet still covering his head. He refused to peek out from under the covers, terrified as he remembered the sensation of being clawed. "Do something."

George sat upright, smacking his lips loudly. Then, he stiffened, and a terrified scream erupted from his mouth, the sound almost shattering Fred's ears.

"Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum," he roared, jumping out of his bed and clambering under Fred's duvet. Fred screamed as well, not knowing what had happened, but if George had screamed for Mum, it couldn't be good.

Molly barged into the room with her wand drawn, her eye-mask on her head, and her nightgown hanging loosely off her shoulders. Arthur was right behind her, his eyes still half-closed. Molly demanded, "What happened?"

"There's something in the room. It's flying, and it grabbed my hair," Fred cried, still huddled under the duvet with George, who was clinging to him for dear life.

"It fell on my lap," George wailed, shivering in disgust. "Mum, get rid of it, please!"

Molly turned on the light, and something screeched as it flew up and hid in the medium-sized hole in the wall in the corner of the room. Arthur gasped and said, "Boys, did you two leave your window open?"

"Maybe," Fred and George said in unison, glancing at the window, which was wide open.

Molly chuckled and smiled at them. "It's just a bat, boys. Don't worry, I'll get it out in a second."

She walked over to the wall and pointed her wand up at the hole. "Come on out, sweetie," she cooed, poking and prodding it with the tip of her wand.

"I thought we were her sweeties," George hissed in Fred's ear. The sheet now covered them from their necks to their toes.

"Let her call the monster whatever she wants," Fred muttered, his eyes trained in on his mother. He clutched the bedsheet tightly, ready to yank it up if needed.

A few seconds later, Fred's quick reflexes came in handy.

The bat shrieked as it flew out of the hole and began banging around the room. Fred and George cried out and yanked the sheet over their heads, and Arthur slammed the door shut behind him. He yelled out, "Don't worry, boys! We've got it under control."

Unfortunately, they did not have it under control.

Molly tried to Summon the bat, but it was just too quick; it flew around the room, trying to find a way out. Fred pressed the duvet to his eyes so he could see through it. It was a bit blurry, but he could make out the fearsome figure of the flying, fanged creature soaring through the room. Beside him, George was doing the same.

"Kill it, Mum," George yelled, his voice ear-deafeningly loud to Fred, but it came out muffled to their parents. "Cast the bad curse!"

"Fred, no," Arthur cried out, horror evident in his tone. "That's wrong!"

"It's George," Fred whined, elbowing George for his stupid suggestion. "Honestly, you call yourself our father."

"It doesn't matter who said it; I'm not going to kill it," Molly said, waving her arms over her head and trying to direct the creature towards the window.

Arthur stepped closer and shooed it, batting it towards the window. Fred snorted and muttered, "Yeah, right. Like that's going to help."

To their surprise, the bat shrieked and swooped out the window a few seconds later. Molly hastened to shut the window.

"Ha! I'm a hero, boys," Arthur boasted, standing straighter with his shoulders back and his chin up. He flexed his flimsy muscles and called out, "Come on out from under there. It's gone. I saved the day."

Fred and George laughed as their mother smacked their father's arm before dragging him towards the door. She called out, "Don't open the window again."

"We won't," the twins said in unison, relieved that it was gone. Once their parents had left the room and shut the door behind them, George climbed out of the bed and slipped back into his.

There was silence at first, and then…

Fred burst into peals of laughter. "You should have heard your scream. You were all like 'Muuuuuuuuuuuum!' You sounded like Ron when he sees a spider. That was so funny!"

"Shut up, Fred," George grumbled before laughing. "You should have heard your scream! And you woke me up first. You were scared too!"

Fred scowled and pulled the duvet up to his neck. "Shut up, George."

George snickered as he lay down. "Nah, wait till I tell Charlie you nearly wet your pants!"

"I did not—"

"Yes, you did—"

"No—"

"Boys, go to sleep," Molly's voice called out from the floor above them, and both boys squeaked out before they did just that.