A/N: hi everyone

A/N: hi everyone! Here it is, chapter 4. Here is where you get a little bit of explanation…but not much. Lol. Gotta luv me. I hope you like, and PLEASE REVIEW!!!!

The Child's Aim Must Miss: Chapter 4

Soap Opera Digest

It's official. I am definitely, undoubtedly, and unarguably lost. No kidding. I keep walking straight along the deserted hallways, taking turns now and then so the others think I know where I'm going, but I seem to be running our little group in circles. We must have left the dining room at least twenty minutes ago. There's no one around, no one human at least. These paintings really do need to be taught some manners; they should know by now that pointing and laughing is very rude.

Heather lightly taps me on the shoulder. "You don't know where we are, do you Henry?" she asks, her voice sounding small in the immense stone hall.

"What tipped you off, my confused expression or the fact that we've passed that statue twice?" I ask, pointing to a white bust sitting on a black marble pedestal to our left. The man has thick, wavy hair, a square jaw, and a playful smirk that reminds me a bit of Sirius. I glance down at the plaque placed under the bust and read Godric Gryffindor. What on earth was his mother thinking?

"A little bit of both. I'm smart that way," Heather replies, bringing me back to reality. I smile at her, and then glance back at Roger and Drake. They're arguing over exactly how old Wonder Girl is. Magnificent conversationalists, no?

"Okay, but seriously, where do we go?" she asks, her grin replaced with a tight, concerned frown. I have no answer for her, so I just shake my head and shrug. We keep walking in silence, until I hear a slightly familiar voice call out….

"Weary travelers! I judge you have come to these fine lands in order to partake of this feast I have set forth?" screams that knight I saw with Sirius on my way to the nurse's station. He's standing on top of an immense wooden table, with a dappled gray pony grazing nearby in the painting. Seated at the table is an array of guests, including a giggly mermaid who keeps making eyes at Drake and a very large woman in a hot pink dress. Roger and Drake do a double-take, their eyes widening as they realize who is speaking to them. Heather, who noticed the animated portraits on either side of the hall as soon as we left the dining room, just laughs.

"Speak up, you naves! Do not stare at Sir Cadogan!" screams the knight, who sounds just a tad tipsy. His helmet is askew and he is stumbling around the tabletop, knocking over plates of meat and goblets of wine. Roger starts snickering, and Drake joins him. Heather and I exchange looks and silently decide that taking directions from this guy is probably not a good idea.

I nudge Roger and whisper in his ear "Don't laugh, it's obvious the guy's unbalanced. Let's just go, okay?" He nods, then taps Drake and points down the hall, indicating that we're leaving. We walk for a ways in silence, then burst out laughing when we're sure Sir Cadogan can't hear us.

As the laughter subsides, I make my confession. "Okay, you guys? Sorry, but I have no clue where I'm going," I say.

"No shit, Sherlock!" exclaims Drake, bursting into laughter again. "We've known that for, what? Ten minutes?" He can barely breathe now, he's laughing so hard. Very funny….

"So we're lost, right?" asks Roger. "So, we should just keep taking rights. We'll have to end up somewhere," he says. "And then at least we'll be able to come back the way we came." Even I have to admit, it's a good idea. So, the next fork we come to, we take a sharp right. We continue on our course in silence.

"You there! Potter! Weasley! Granger! Malfoy! What on earth are you doing here? Professor Dumbledore sent for you over half an hour ago!" calls out a voice behind us. I turn around and am greeted with a short, rather porky old woman with frizzy gray hair and a hooknose. She is shaking her finger at us disapprovingly while she continues on her tangent. "Never would have thought I'd find you four together, let alone down the charms corridor! You know very well that this area of the castle is off-limits except for classes!" she scolds, shaking her head.

I look back at Roger, Drake, and Heather. They all look as shocked as I'm sure I do. The woman motions for us to follow her, shaking her head and muttering to herself about how students these days have no respect. After about ten minutes of walking, she stops suddenly, causing me to stumble into her.

"Watch where you're going, Potter!" she barks. I turn to face Heather.

"Potter?" I ask her. She just shrugs and motions for me to look at the woman.

"Well, now that I have your attention-" she glares at me "-Professor Dumbledore said for you to go on up. The passwords 'sugar quill'." Then she turns and leaves without another word.

"Okay, that was fun," says Roger, breaking the uncomfortable silence that has settled over our little group.

"Yeah, really," says Drake, rolling his eyes. "What was she calling us anyway?"

"I don't know. Anyway, I think this is the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office," says Heather, calm as usual. "So, that woman helped us out. We're right where we wanted to be, aren't we?" she asks, one eyebrow raised. Heather's always doing that, raising one eyebrow. I don't know how she does it.

"Yeah," replies Drake, looking sullen and at the same time relieved.

"So stop complaining!" says Heather. Then she turns around and examines the wall. "I don't see a door here…."

"Me neither," I say, moving up to stand next to Heather. "Maybe we need to say the password…?"

"Great idea, Henry!" she exclaims. "Now, what did she say it was? Sugar…sugar something," Heather says, trailing off into silence as she tries to remember the password.

"It was something weird, like sugar quote or something," pipes up Roger.

"Or maybe it was sugar QUACK!" hollers Drake, going into a fit of hysterics. Roger starts flapping his arms and quacking while Drake just laughs. I roll my eyes, and Heather tries to suppress a giggle.

"Go ahead. Yuk it up, clowns. I'm gonna figure out the password, if that's perfectly alright with you," I say. "Sugar…sugar…sugar quill! Yeah, that was it." As soon as the words leave my mouth, an immense stone gargoyle leaps to life about three feet to my left. Okaaaay….

"Oh my…" whispers Heather as the gargoyle opens up a panel in the wall, about the size of a door. Inside is a narrow, steep spiral staircase that leads straight up. I look at Heather, who nods. I lead the way up the stairs, the others trailing behind. We're plunged into total darkness as the gargoyle shuts the panel in the wall, but we keep climbing upwards.

Just when my legs are starting to get tired and Drake starts whining, I walk straight into something solid. The floor is flat now and the staircase is gone. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realize I'm standing in front of a huge door.

"What's the holdup, Henry?" calls Roger.

"Yeah. Not that I'm not having the time of my life down here, really I am, but I have a stitch!" hollers Drake.

"I'm at the very top. There's a door. What should I do?" I call down.

"What should you do? Start tap dancing to old show tunes! Open the door, dumbass," screams Drake.

"Fiiine…" I say. Heather giggles, then nudges me forward. I grasp the large brass knob in my hand, then turn it until I hear the latch click. I enter Dumbledore's office for the second time today, and stop short when I see who is already sitting in it, looking perfectly calm. Heather, who was immediately behind me, stumbles into my back. Then come Roger and Drake, hurrying into the room so fast they knock Heather and me to the floor. Then they trip over us, and we're all lying in a disgruntled heap on the floor of the office.

"Well well well. Come in, come in! I would offer you chairs, but if you find the floor that much more comfortable, then by all means," says Professor Dumbledore, a grin playing on his lips. Roger, Drake, Heather, and I untangle ourselves and stand up. "There are some people here that I would like you to meet," says Dumbledore, gesturing to the four kids seated in front of his desk.

"Drake Mertoy, meet Draco Malfoy," he says, pointing from Drake to a very pale, thin guy with shiny white-blonde hair and silvery eyes. He could pass for Drake, easy. The two are almost identical.

"Roger Weisner, allow me to introduce you to Ronald Weasley," says Professor Dumbledore, gesturing from Roger to what could have been his identical twin.

"Heather Grahm, I give you Hermione Granger," he says, indicating the only two girls in the room. Out of everyone introduced so far, those two look the least alike. For one thing, Heather's hair is straight, while the other girl's is rather frizzy and bushy. Heather also has a much clearer complexion, and she is a lot thinner than the other girl.

I take a look around the crowded room. Everyone is examining their look-alike, wearing shocked and dumbfounded expressions on their faces.

"And, last but not least, Henry Patterson, meet Harry Potter," says Professor Dumbledore gesturing from myself to a boy exactly my height, with messy black hair and green eyes. It's almost like looking in a mirror, except for the fact that this kid has glasses and a weird-looking tattoo of a lightning bolt on his forehead. For a moment, we all stand there and no one says a word. The silence is finally broken, by Roger of course.

"You know what? This kid may have my freckles and my hair color, but he ain't got my moves!" he says, starting to break dance right there on the office floor. Only problem is, he's not too good at it and ends up whacking his head on the desk. Serves him right. Okay, not really, but it was very funny. All of us American kids are standing there laughing our heads off, except for Roger obviously, but the other kids are just standing there not saying a word.

Drake starts to get into the spirit, following right in Roger's footsteps. "Well, young Draco," he says, drawing out the English kid's name. "I only have one thing to say to you. You may be lucky enough to have a few of my features, but lemme tell ya. I make this look good!" he hollers, starting to strut around the room. Then Drake and Roger burst into song.

"I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt. SO SEXY IT HURTS!!!" they sing out, doing over-the-top model poses and laughing hysterically. By then, Heather and I are starting to loosen up.

"Him? Look good? Who says, his mother?" she asks, poking Drake in the ribs as she giggles away.

"Not even her!" Roger calls, causing even more hysterical laughter. The English kids, for their part, are all smiling politely, and Dumbledore is laughing fit to kill. Finally, after we've all settled down, we sit in the eight chairs now sitting in front of his desk. I don't know how they got there; last time I looked there were only four….Oh well. We all sit down next to our look-alikes while Professor Dumbledore starts to speak.

"Now, I know you're all wondering what is going on here," he says. Then one of the English kids, my look-alike no less, finally speaks.

"Professor Dumbledore, does this have anything to do with that book you showed me?" he asks, looking completely focused and intent on the matter at hand.

"Yes, Harry. Now let me explain. You eight children are very special," he begins.

"Oh great, not again," I hiss, causing hushed laughter from Heather, Roger, and Drake. The four English kids glare at me, looking positively scandalized.

"Anyway, you children are very important. But, let me start at the beginning. The person sitting next to you is actually your twin, separated from you at birth for your own protection."

"Oh my God…" whispers Heather, raising her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Wait a minute. This is real life, not a soap opera. I mean come on," I say, ever the cynic.

"Tune in next week…." says Drake in a hushed voice.

A/N: I'm not doing a Thank You section for this chapter because no one, but no one, reviewed chapter three except for Scarlette Stephanie, but she doesn't count.

PLEASE REVIEW!!!! *gets down on hands and knees* I'm begging you, PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!! I luv you….plz? ^_~