Terribly sorry I sort of abandoned fanfiction for a while, but I had some other things and projects going on. Then, today, I read over some of my stories' and realized they were horrible writing and they seriously need some touching up. But it would take much too long to switch all of the chapters with new ones, so right now all I'm doing is writing new chapters. Hopefully with better editing and writing.

As always, thanks to all who reviewed!

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Chapter 4: Timothy and the Balloon

The first days at Hogwarts flew by in a daze. I was only happy to have survived the piles of essays the teachers were loading on them already. I'd narrowly avoided detention with Professor Binns by copying Angelina's essay.

"I don't think he even reads them, he just randomly scribbles out grades," Oliver had told us. Fred had even gone so far as to write an essay on the proper method of making an ice cream sundae to test this theory. He didn't even get any points docked. We all decided then and there that History of Magic would be a pushover.

Of course, Professors Snape and McGonagall were another story. Not only did Alicia receive a detention and 40 points off Gryffindor for complaining about the cold in the dungeons, but also Fred and George each had a solo detention with Filch for yelling at Madam Hooch, who said they were too young to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I'm extremely glad we decided that the twins would ask, and not me.

McGonagall was a bit better, but not by much. I hadn't served my detention yet, but I sensed she was watching me like a hawk. I didn't dare pull anything off in her class.

And then was the weekend. I decided it would be lovely to start it off with a bang. So, Friday night, I snuck out of our dormitory and rigged it up. Right over the teachers' table, due to set off during breakfast tomorrow.

"Lee! Lee! Get up!" Something was jabbing me repeatedly. I only mumbled and rolled over in my bed. It was much too warm and comfy to get up yet. Besides, it was Saturday. It was a crime to try to get someone up early on Saturday.

"JORDAN!" Apparently, Fred woke people up using a different method from the poke-repeatedly method. He yelled in people's ears. And it worked.

"What?" I sat up in my bed. That voice sounded suspiciously like a teacher yelling at me. I looked around wildly, expecting McGonagall to be sitting on the cabinet. "Oh. It's you, Fred. What?" The twins were looking at me, George looking very excited.

"Come on, get dressed, giddy-up, giddy-up, you do not want to miss this," George told me in a rush, and threw me various pieces of clothing. I caught them, yanked his curtains back closed, and started dressing.

"Come down immediately! We'll meet you in the Great Hall!" I heard Fred say as they headed out through the dormitory door. I groaned as I looked at the clock. 7:30.

Cursing the weekend gods, I got up. Timothy had already gotten up and gone to breakfast, the early-riser. Trey was still snoring softly in the bed next to mine, though. I debated whether or not to chuck a pillow at him, just to be evil, but I decided to take pity on him, and went down to the common room quietly.

It was quite empty, most people still sleeping peacefully in their warm, comfy beds. I wondered what exactly it was that the twins wanted me to see. Well, I wouldn't find out unless I went down.

So, after several minutes of faulty navigation along pretty much the entire seventh floor, I managed to find a staircase. Unfortunately, it only went down to the fourth floor. Swearing, I tried to find a way out, but it seemed that the stairway ended at a dead-end hallway. Dead-end on all ends. Swearing even more loudly (I was in a bad mood, could you tell?), I turned back to the stairs, but they were already folding themselves up and going towards some secret destination.

I let out a frustrated groan, and tried feebly to jump up to it, but I had never been a really good jumper. I fell short by about three feet. So, being the devious mastermind that I am, I decided to take a different approach.

I started pounding on the walls, screaming for help. But instead of someone coming running to my aid, guess what happened? I fell through the wall. Startled, I stayed on the floor for a few seconds, and looked at the wall. It was a normal-looking stone wall all right, but as I tentatively put my hand on it and pushed, it gave shimmered ever so slightly and my hand went right through.

Shaking my head and muttering darkly about crazy architects, I departed once again on my great quest for the Great Hall.

Several more minutes later, I was on the right floor, all right, but I was still lost. "You'd think a Great Hall would be a bit more conspicuous," I said to myself.

Finally, I found it. Giving a grateful sigh, I pushed open the doors and blinked. Maybe it wasn't the Great Hall after all. But no, I could see the enchanted ceiling above me, all… enchanted.

But the tables and benches – Someone had shoved them haphazardly against the walls, the benches teetering on top. And they were on fire. I covered my mouth, shocked. Did Fred and George do that? But I realized there was something unusual about the fire. I could feel no heat coming from the wood, and there wasn't any smoke either. What's more, I didn't see any sign of the wood burning.

There were several people running around screaming their heads off, and Professor Sprout, who was the only teacher there, trying to create some kind of order within the confusion.

Grinning, I spotted two red heads, dodging around the panicking students. They were laughing. Yep, it was Fred and George who set this up all right.

I saw a lone figure up on the platform-type-thingy that the staff table was usually situated upon. He was craning his neck, apparently looking at something up there. I covered my mouth. In all the chaos of the morning, I had forgotten all about my prank.

I uncovered my mouth and opened it to warn him, but before any sound could come out, it fell. A great big balloon, magically expanded and charmed to stay up behind the gargoyles above the big windows. I looked at my watch. 8:10. Yep, it was time for the charm to come off, all right. I would have been proud of managing to pull that specific charm off at any other time, but this was a different case. The tables were on fire, and –

SPLAT. I had to resist the urge to let out a giggle as the kid (I saw that it was Timothy) toppled over with the force of the entire balloon. Uh-oh. It had way too much force for one person. I had made it so that it would cover the entire staff table.

I moaned. It exploded, dumping gallons of Coke all over Timothy, and everyone else in the general vicinity. I ran up to him, trying to see if he was all right, but it was hard to tell with all the soda sloshing all over the place. I saw that a lot of it had ended up in the fire, effectively putting it out.

I was distracted for w few seconds by Professor Sprout, who was now yelling at Fred and George. Apparently she had found the culprits of the fire.

But behind me, I heard a feeble cough. "Are you all right, Aberling?" He only shot me a very dirty look. I took that as a no.

Now more students and teachers were pouring into the Great Hall, all of them viewing the mess with confusion. McGonagall was striding up to Timothy and me.

"What exactly went on in here?" she asked in an icy tone. I knew the question was directed at me.

"W-well, I-I c-came in h-here-" Professor Sprout, who was leading Fred and George over, cut me short.

"Professor McGonagall. These two are responsible for setting magical fire to the tables and setting off a balloon filled with this… stuff," she said distastefully.

"Actually, Professor," I started, but saw George shaking his head at me. Well, if they were willing to take all the blame, that was fine with me.

So I simply stood there, listening to Fred and George arguing with Timothy. In the end, they were each assigned a week's detention, 60 points were taken off Gryffindor, and they were led off to McGonagall's office to recieve a severe talking-to.