A/N: Hello, peeps! Hope you all like this chapter, I especially especially enjoyed writing the second half of it…there's some action coming up in this chapter :P so, yeah, start reading!

Oh, yeah…I did a tiny bit of editing on Chapter 4, at the end…but nothing big. Also edited Draco's O.W.L. results…he didn't fail Herbology, he failed Care of Magical Creatures instead.

Chapter 6: Twin Thing

The good mood Draco had had at the beginning of breakfast dissipated quickly upon the arrival of a certain auburn-haired young woman, who sat herself carefully down on the staff table and picked up a croissant daintily between her thumb and forefinger.

Rashyn Buchet … Merlin, she's so annoying! Why do I have to get her as a teacher? She should have stayed in France … Draco thought grumpily, poking at his soggy cornflakes.

Professor Snape was going around the Slytherin table, making and giving out timetables to the students. Nefarious Blake, who had gotten six O.W.L.s, took all the same subjects as Pansy. None of his so-called Slytherin friends had made it into Snape's Advanced Potions class, for which he was glad.

"Ah, Draco," Snape said to him after finishing with Goyle. "Top Potions grade, I see. You'll be continuing with the subject, I hope?"

"Oh, yes, sir," Draco smiled. I wouldn't give that up for the world …

Snape's lip curled in the direction of the other Slytherins. "You're the only one who had enough brains to make it into the class." Then he smiled at his favourite student. "Well done."

"I try my best, Professor," Draco smirked.

"What other subjects will you be taking?"

"Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes," Draco replied.

Snape tapped his wand on the piece of parchment before giving it to Draco and moving onto Crabbe. Draco ran his finger down the list of subjects to be had that day and groaned. "Double Defence Against the Dark Arts today!"

"Is she really that bad?" Pansy asked.

"Yes. She's damn annoying." Draco checked his watch. "We also share the similar feeling of extreme dislike for each other. And the owl post is due."

"Expecting anything?"

"Not really … but we'll see, eh?"

Sure enough, hundreds of owls now flew into the Great Hall, carrying letters and packages. An eagle owl Draco recognised as his father's soared onto the table and deposited a letter into Draco's open hand.

Draco scanned quickly through the letter at first, then reread it more slowly. Then he reread it again. No way. He's got to be bloody joking.

But he wasn't and Draco knew it. His family had a certain code when it came to letter-writing, full of hidden meanings and word alteration. To an outsider, the letter was from his mother, but the use of the words 'Your mother,' instead of 'Love,' told Draco his father was the one the letter was from. And the hidden contents of the letter were dark indeed …

Draco got up so quickly from the table that Pansy gasped. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

"Forgot something," he said shortly. When Crabbe and Goyle stood up to follow him, he snapped, "No. You stay."

He knew where Dumbledore's office was. Up to the second floor, left to the statue of the gargoyle … it was here that Draco paused. What was the password? Something to do with sweets … but what kind?

"Chocolate Frog." Too common, that one. "Blood Lollipops." The gargoyle didn't move. "Levitating Sherbets. Cockroach Cluster. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Blast it, there's about a gazillion sweets in the world! Even those stupid Fainting Fancies beans they sell at … bloody hell, Fainting Fancies?"

Amazed at his luck (and the Headmaster's odd taste) Draco hurried up the revolving staircase. He knocked on the Headmaster's door. "Come in," a voice beckoned and Draco opened the door.

"Good morning, Professor."

"Draco! To what do I owe this visit?" Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk. A book lay open in front of him, filled with diagrams and symbols.

Draco laid his father's letter on the desk. "There's going to be an attack. Today."

Instantly it seemed the intensity of the gaze upon him tripled, and Dumbledore beckoned for Draco to sit down. "Where?"

Draco told him. "It's the afternoon, around noon. They're aiming for panic, chaos, death …"

Dumbledore reached for the letter. "It says here your mother plans to do a bit of shopping in Diagon Alley, and she hopes she doesn't come across any hooligans."

"Exactly, sir," Draco said. "Hooligans – Death-Eaters. Shopping – they're going to do what they call 'fun'; torture, kill, cause panic …"

"You're sure about this?"

"Very, Professor," Draco said. He pointed to a part of the letter. "He's going to try and attack there, too – the Dark Lord wants to punish them for making fun of his name."

"It's not his name."

Draco shrugged. "He wants to be respected as that, too, I suppose."

"Is there anything else mentioned in the letter?"

Draco shook his head. Then he stopped. "Well – there is one thing. He wants me to know the Unforgivable Curses. Christmas means practice."

Something passed over Dumbledore's eyes, flickered for a moment, then was gone. "How do you feel about that, Draco?"

"I don't want to. But I'll have to, won't I?" Draco gave a bitter smile.

He arrived late for Defence Against the Dark Arts, which was the first lesson of the day. "Sorry I'm late, Professor –"

"Twelve minutes, Mr. Malfoy." Professor Rashyn Buchet smiled humourlessly. "I'll take twelve points from Slytherin, then. And as you are late, you will also sit next to Miss Hermione Granger. For the rest of the year."

Draco gaped and glanced at Hermione. She was sitting in the front-most row in front of Harry and Ron. "Professor –"

"You will do as I say. Sit there."

Draco put on a very sour face. As he passed Buchet, she said softly, "I must say, it's nice having you call me Professor – and having all this power over you." Draco ignored her and sat down at the desk next to Hermione, careful to pull his chair as far away as possible.

"As I was saying before the rude interruption of Malfoy here, being able to perform spells without speaking is very important, especially in Defence. Why? Because the Enemy will not know what you're doing. To be able to do this …"

Draco did his best to listen while trying to banish thoughts about how annoying her voice was, how he couldn't stand looking at her for so long, and how she had the incredibly annoying poise and confidence of the social class she had been born in.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you would give me the incantation for a visible Shield Charm."

Draco smirked. He knew this one. She wasn't going to catch him out here …

"Smirk at me again and it'll be five points form Slytherin."

Immediately he stopped. "Caraceo."

Buchet nodded and a smile played at her mouth. "Let's see how well you do at non-verbal Defence, shall we?"

Draco, who was sitting down, his wand in his bag, had no time to even bring his wand up, let alone perform the Shield Charm, before the jinx hit him and his legs began twitching, dancing along to a soundless tune, hitting the desk in front of him. He scrambled around to get his wand, which was hard seeing as he threatened to fall off his chair at any moment.

Just as he got his wand out of his bag Buchet performed the counter-jinx. Draco glared at her.

"You need to work on your reflexes." Then she addressed the class. "Pair up with the person beside you and practice trying to jinx and block spells. I will be standing …" she placed herself a good distance away from the students, "Here." Then she waved her wand and the desks and chairs were pushed to the walls, leaving a clear, wide space in the middle. "You may begin."

Draco looked Hermione up and down as if squaring her up. He curled his lip. Hermione merely looked straight at him, coolly regarding his demeanour.

"Me first," Draco said, and he concentrated on a Leg-Locker Curse. He waved his wand and nothing happened. "Damn it!"

Hermione, unsurprisingly, got the hang of it after only a few tries, and Draco spent most of the lesson trying to avoid her spellwork."

"Hell, Granger, you're not supposed to be this good!" Draco said it more to himself than anyone else, but it was both Hermione and Buchet that demanded, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, Professor," Draco smirked.

Before she could respond, Neville miscalculated the jinx he was supposed to be performing, accidentally said it out loud, and a jet of some foul-smelling liquid spattered onto Hermione's robes, a few droplets of which got Professor Rashyn Buchet.

She leapt away from Hermione, a truly scandalised look on her face. She used her wand to clear off the droplets, looking revolted. "Disgusting, urgh … get that off you, I can't even bear to see you looking like that –" with another wave of her wand Hermione was clean, too.

"Sorry, Professor!" Neville came over to them, looking apologetic. "And Hermione." Draco laughed loudly. Everyone ignored him.

"No more messy spells, Mr. Longbottom," she said, still looking rather repulsed. "Try some more elegant spells … that way when your Enemy falls, you don't get splattered in blood or mud or who knows what else!" She swept way from them, steering firmly away from Harry and Ron, who seemed to have had the same idea as Neville.

Neville looked at Hermione. "Elegant?"

Fred Weasley was in the backroom of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, trying to convince a young man to buy a Shield Hat when his twin brother George came in.

"Hello, sir, are you buying that?" he asked rather brusquely, striding over to where Fred was.

"I'm not sure yet –"

"All right, then. I'm very sorry, but we're going to have to close for the rest of the day, and we need to clear the premises. Now, we have a fireplace and Floo powder that you can use, I recommend you go straight home –"

"What?" said the young man.

"What?" said Fred, meaning something entirely different.

George hesitated for a moment, then he smiled. "It's nothing to worry about. This area's been classified as under high risk at the moment, but there's no immediate danger."

The man looked stunned. "No immediate –"

"Danger, yes. Come on, sir, I'll walk you to the fireplace."

"George –" Fred began. But he was gone, leaving his twin feeling rather confused. Fred stood there for a moment, then went after his twin.

Outside, it was chaotic. The store, which had been filled with excited customers and customers-to-be before, was now filled with anxious, worried faces. A few people ducked out of the shop as Fred took in the scene, and one of the helpers they'd hired was leading customers to the private backroom, presumably, Fred thought, to the fireplace.

Fred began marshalling the customers, though he was still as confused as before. When a frightened person asked him what was happening, he said tersely, "Safety measure. There's no immediate danger yet, so don't worry, but we want to get you out of here as soon as we can."

The crowd in the store was thinning now, and Fred saw, to his surprise, Remus Lupin, who was conversing with a few customers and pointing them to the private backroom.

"Professor!" he called out, and Lupin turned to him.

"We need to speed this up, he'll know by now," Lupin whispered urgently to Fred as he neared.

"Who's he? What's going on?" Fred murmured back. "Yeah, just in through there, nothing to worry about, just a precaution!" he added to another customer.

"Oh, you're Fred –" Lupin looked around, then whispered urgently, "Voldemort –" Fred winced – "is going to attack. Today. He's also sore at your U-No-Poo joke –"

"What? He knows about that?"

Lupin gave a smile. "It's hard not to, with your sign blaring out the window."

"Yeah, but he actually cares?"

"Apparently he wants to be respected both by Voldemort –" Fred winced again – "and You-Know-Who. The important thing is, he'll have found out now that we now about the attack, and he might attack early. We don't know how ready his Death-Eaters are, the attack could come anytime between now and the afternoon. You need to get these people out of here."

"Aurors not around?" asked Fred.

"Outside. We don't want to cause a panic, that would slow everything down."

Fred nodded and took out his wand. "Sonorus," he muttered, pointing it at his throat. "May I have your attention, please, everyone?" his voice boomed over the shop. Heads turned to him. "Those of you who know how to Apparate, please proceed outside to do so. I – Fred Weasley, that is – will oversee the Apparition, and my brother George is overseeing the fireplace."

"I don't know if –" Lupin began.

"It's faster. That's what we need, isn't it?" Fred led some of the customers outside.

Lupin had his reservations. Outside was where the Death-Eaters would strike first. But Fred was also right in saying it would be faster. Perhaps – no, hopefully – they'd be able to get everyone out before getting away themselves. In all the other shops around Diagon Alley, its owners were emptying their premises.

It was almost surprising to see the readiness in which the Weasley twins fell to responsibility, but Remus supposed that managing a shop (even a joke one) in Diagon Alley, where a few disappearances had already taken place, had taught the twins a lot; responsibility and, among others, the realness of the war.

It had only been a few months. But they were growing up, Remus realised.

He heard the screams as soon as they began, and groaned. There were still people here. He pulled out his wand as Fred came in. "Get these people out of here." Then he was out the door.

Fred knew it was not his place to go out into the street; that was for the Aurors. He'd stay here; he'd help George. And he'd try not to panic thinking about the Dementors that were gliding the streets, providing cover and atmosphere for the Death-Eaters.

Before Fred had reached the middle of the shop, however, people began running in his direction. "What the –"

There were screams coming from the back of the shop, too. "George," Fred whispered, and he began pushing through the crowd, his crowd control and management duties forgotten instantly as he craned for the sight of flaming red hair. None.

Fred pushed further into the shop. He was almost at the backroom now. He was feeling decidedly colder, too, like he had outside right before the Dementors had appeared.

Dementors.

Shit.

He entered the backroom almost cautiously and saw that part of the wall had been blasted away. The wooden table lay in pieces on the floor and things were thrown haphazardly around. George was pushing a customer into the emerald green flames of the fireplace.

There were about four Dementors gliding about here, and Fred felt as though he was going through some very depressing mood. The Death-Eaters were here, too, hexing, cursing, jinxing.

"Impedimenta!" Fred yelled, and a Death-Eater flew up into the air. "George!"

"Got it!" George yelled back, throwing a Stunning Spell at one of the Death-Eaters, who blocked it and threw a curse at him, which he ducked.

Fred found himself the target of two Death-Eater attacks. He ducked the first curse sent at him and sent a curse straight back, before firing off another curse almost immediately after that at the second Death-Eater, and blocking a third curse.

They'd never win in a fight, Fred thought helplessly. They weren't Aurors, they'd never battled before, how could they even have a chance?

Then he realised what was making him feel so hopeless. Silently thanking Harry for the DA lessons he'd had the previous year, Fred ducked behind a cabinet and tried summoning up a happy thought.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing happened. Damn, Harry's right, it's harder with real ones around … Fred concentrated again, trying to push out the fear and panic that he wouldn't be able to do it.

Happy thought, happy thought … Fred thought of the first time he and George had opened Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and the tremendous amount of customers they'd got … counting the Galleons …

Smiling slightly, Fred waved his wand again. "Expecto Patronum!" he roared, and to his immense delight and relief, a silver fox shot out the end of his wand.

Fred stepped out of the cover of the cabinet and watched, amazed, as the fox ran, leapt and snapped at the Dementors. The Dementors fell back and glided out, the fox disappeared and Fred's head felt a lot clearer.

Battle time.

He sent a curse at the first Death-Eater he laid eyes on. Then an invisible something hit him hard, in the chest, and he gasped, staggering. "Incendio!" a streak of flame leapt from his wand. The Death-Eaters robes caught fire.

George yelled. Fred whipped around and saw his twin crash into the cabinet he'd hidden behind earlier, wood splintering and glass shattering around him.

The moment of distraction should have cost Fred, but it didn't. For Lupin had now joined the fray, and he'd cursed the Death-Eater who'd tried to take advantage of Fred's inattention.

"Reducto!" Fred blocked the curse, threw another curse at the Death-Eater who'd sent George flying and hurried to his brother. He seemed a little daze. "Caraceo!" a shimmering shield encircled both of them. "You ok?"

"Yeah." George blinked, then got up, wincing a bit as he did so. "Fred. This is our shop."

"I know."

"It's our shop."

It was a twin thing between them. So often they seemed to be able to read each other's minds, and Fred suddenly smiled.

"I know," he said with an entirely different meaning to before.

Suddenly the shield around them shattered. The twins were ready, though, each firing off two successive spells at two of the three remaining Death-Eaters. One of them went down with blood and boils all over him; the other crashed against the wall.

Lupin was duelling with the remaining Death-Eater. It was a fierce battle, their wands moving so fast they were blurs. George conjured up ropes to bind the three downed Death-Eaters on the floor. Fred sent an unbroken chair skidding on a collision course to the Death-Eater Lupin was duelling with. It distracted the Death-Eater sufficiently enough for Lupin to knock him out.

"Good job, you two. Now, I want you to get out of here."

Fred and George looked at each other. "Professor, this is our shop," they said together.

"I know, but there's nothing you can do. Don't worry, we'll handle this," Lupin said, halfway across the room already.

"No, you don't understand," George shook his head.

"It's our shop."

"Our products."

"If anyone can create enough havoc …"

"Distract the Death-Eaters …"

"It's us," finished Fred.

"Too dangerous," Lupin said firmly. "Go. I mean it." And he left to the main area of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, where there was still a lot of screaming.

"We're not kids anymore," Fred said stubbornly.

"Not exactly Aurors, either," George reminded him.

"But we know what we're doing."

"Yeah – argh!"

Something heavy – it looked like the remains of the cabinet – crashed into George and sent him flying through the door Lupin had just gone through. Another Death-Eater.

Fred sent a jinx at him, which the Death-Eater blocked with ease. Hoping George was going to be alright, Fred ducked a jet of green light sent by the Death-Eater and then gasped with pain when another curse hit him – it was like he'd been stabbed – looking down he saw blood mixing with the magenta of his robes …

"Reducto!" he gasped. He knew where he kept the Weasleys' Wildfire Whizbangs.

BOOM!

Immediately the air was full of explosions and lights, and one of the Death-Eaters yelled; it seemed he'd been right next to the box went it went off. A huge Catherine wheel shot past Fred into the main area – he heard George shout before saying, "Stupefy!" There was a loud explosion and several yells.

He's all right then, Fred thought.

One of the Death-Eaters tried the same thing George had done (one of the firecrackers had been heading straight for him) – and next second he and his partner had been blasted out onto the back street outside.

Fred scrambled into the main room. A rocket shot out behind him and George muttered a Vanishing Spell – it multiplied by ten.

"Fred!"

"I'm ok," Fred winced, though he was far feeling it. He was glad to see most of the customers gone.

"The fireworks got rid of the Dementors, good eh?" George still looked worried, though.

"Yeah … do you reckon …?"

"Daydreams? Do I!" And with his wand George flung a box of Patented Daydream Charms at a Death-Eater, muttering an incantation as he did so. The Death-Eater blew up the box but it didn't stop the vacant expression that suddenly appeared in his face after that, allowing Kinsgley Shacklebolt to knock him out with a well-placed spell.

Fred was feeling rather weaker, though … he thought he could feel a warm trickle down his back, and his robes were feeling sticky.

"Stupefy!"

Even his voice sounded weak … George, who'd been flinging boxes of Patented Daydream Charms at Death-Eaters, now looked, alarmed, at Fred. "We have to get you out of here."

George pulled Fred up with difficulty and began making his way to the backroom. This was a bad move, though – it made them a lot more conspicuous, and he was having to block more spells.

"Caraceo!" George pulled his twin along. "Come on, Fred … let's get you somewhere quiet so we can Apparate!"

The shield shattered. And Fred and George were suddenly lifted off their feet and crashing into the shelves behind them. For the millionth time that day George was seeing stars before his eyes. Fred thought he heard an ominous 'crack' as something crashed into him, and then darkness enveloped him.

A/N: Muahaha. I haven't ended in a cliffie for a long time :P feels good, hehe …

Ok, that's got to be about my first action scene since forever … what did you think of it? Good try? Or plain boring and unexciting :( Well, either way, I loved writing that … might have gotten inspired after reading a few fanfics based on the twins, to write something with them in it :P

Thanks to all my reviewers, you guys rock!

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theLastBLACK17: I've barely got time, myself … thus ridiculously long time between chapters!

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