AUTHOR'S NOTE I know that this story isn't great. Unfortunately, I have this fondness in my heart for all my stories, good or bad. Therefore, The Old Ones stays. Review if you want!
DISCLAIMER Don't own any of 'em.
…
Fred, George, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team minus Ginny sat silently in Professor Dumbledore's office. "What was he doing here?" George asked.
"And what the HELL was he doing with Ginny?" Fred asked, his protective-older-brother syndrome kicking in.
"After how awful we were last year, he came to help coach us," Ron explained miserably. "It was supposed to be a secret."
"We didn't know about him and Ginny," Harry added. Fred scowled.
They heard a door open and Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey walked in. They looked incredibly sad and everyone in the room knew.
"I am afraid that what Fred and George have reported is indeed true," Professor Dumbledore announced. "Oliver Wood is dead."
The room fell heavy with silence. Ron was the first to speak. "What about Ginny?"
"She's stable," Madam Pomfrey replied. "But unfortunately, like Mr. Longbottom, nothing can wake her."
"But she's alive?" George asked, needing verification.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey replied.
"We must ask you," Professor McGonagall began, "not to mention this to anyone. We will notify the other students and staff when we feel it is appropriate." All the students nodded their understanding.
Ron turned around as the students got up to leave the office. "Yes, Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked.
He hesitated for a second, unable to find words. "Nothing, Professor." She watched sympathetically as he followed the other students from the office. The Weasleys had already been through this once when Ginny had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. The stern professor did not understand why they had to suffer so much.
Sighing, she bid good-bye to Dumbledore. She retired to her own office and tried to prepare what to say to her house. She was getting very tired of these announcements.
.i.i.i.
A heavy rain began to fall the following day. It felt to those trapped inside the Hogwarts castle that the sky itself was melting and falling down upon them. A week straight it poured – no one left the stone walls and everyone was very on edge.
The news of Oliver's death spread quickly of course. The Slytherins immediately began accusing Gryffindor of cheating by having an extra coach, not that it mattered. For the third time in the six years Harry had been at Hogwarts, Quidditch was cancelled.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent all their time researching dark arts and spells. Professor Madison had even given them written permission to do research in the restricted section.
Amy sympathized deeply with the students. Her few years in high school before she'd become a rat had all been like this. Students, teachers, even their principal had ended up dead. It seemed she couldn't escape.
On the eighth miserable day of rain, Fred and George approached their younger brother and his friends. They'd stayed at the castle to watch over Ginny and the rain then kept them there.
"Hey Fred, George," Harry said dully. He was sitting by the window, staring intently at the storm outside. Ron and Hermione were on a couch, watching the fire. Ron nodded absently to his brothers.
"You've been doing research?" George asked listlessly. "On the murders?"
Harry nodded slowly, looking puzzled. "Of course."
"We want to help."
Three heads turned simultaneously as Harry, Ron, and Hermione gaped at Fred incredulously. Hermione was the first to speak. "Excuse me?" The twins looked very uncomfortable as she continued. "You two want to help with…research?"
"Hey!" George said defensively. "Our little sister's in the hospital bloody unconscious from all of this!" He paused. "And regardless of all those early morning practices, harsh lectures…"
"Daring our sister," Fred broke in resentfully.
"The point is, despite all that, Oliver was our friend," George finished. His eyes read of nothing but sorrow. "We want to help stop this thing."
Harry and Ron nodded in agreement. "Sure. All the help we can get is good."
Fred and George sat down at their brother's words. Fred cast a wary eye at the rather large and threatening books that were spread out on the table before him. Hermione, apparently having gotten over her shock, got up from the couch and pushed one to each of the twins. "Uh…"
"Time to get to work."
Afraid to argue with Hermione's fearsome look, the twins quietly began reading.