A/N: Ok, chappy 3 is finally up. I am amazed at how little effort this fic is involving. My other one had REALLY REALLY REALLY long chapters, and this is a nice break from it. On to chapter threeeeeeeeeeee!

Chapter Drei!

With Harry's new 'development,' he was the laughingstock of the Weasley household. (No, guys, not what you're thinking! haha)

Well, not really. He was more the laughingstock of the Weasley twins, seeing as how they were the only ones that had seen it yet. The three boys were standing in Harry's room, exactly where we just left off. The twins were laughing hysterically at Harry's plight, despite the fact that they were the ones who had put it there. Ah, the joy of laughing at other people's problems.

He couldn't believe they had made him grow a bloody unicorn horn.

They had given him a pill to clear up his headache… but the pill had done much worse than that. Much, much worse. Much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much— Author slaps Harry because he's being boring, repetitive and melodramatic

Ow! Harry thinks, wondering where that came from, but quickly forgetting about it due to his short attention span.

A bloody horn.

Meanwhile, the twins had quieted down a bit, and were now staring at Harry, bright-eyed, a remnants of a smile still tugging at their lips.

"Harry, mate," said Fred (at least Harry was pretty sure it was Fred).

"We're really sorry," George said.

"But we didn't know it would do that," Fred said. "And Harry, you must admit, that is truly an admirable horn." For indeed, it was almost two feet long. Worse, it was pink… and sparkly. They had turned him into a pink-and-sparkly-horned monstrosity.

"Nuh-uh! You're not a monstrosity!" Fred said indignantly.

"Yes I— wait a second! How did you know what I was thinking?"

"Um— I— It was kind of obvious in your face, Harry," Fred said quickly, exchanging a glance with George. Changing the subject, he added, "And we definitely didn't realize it was going to do that."

"I mean, we've never tested it on anyone before," George said.

Harry's eyes bugged out of his head. "WHAT? I was the FIRST?"

"We mean, no one that counts," Fred said hastily. "Only me 'n Forge. But for George, all it did was make him grow a really big mustache. He just shaved it off and it hasn't grown back."

"And for Fred, it did something, but no one noticed because it's… erm… not in a noticeable place," George said.

"Because he needed to know that," Fred said sarcastically, looking sideways at George.

"Actually, I think he did, in case it happens to him," George said.

"Good point. Harry, you might want to watch for that."

"We have a pill for that too."

"We do?"

Harry glared at them. "I can't believe you did this to me! Why did you have to test it on me? What have I ever done to you?"

"Well, there was that one time when you borrowed 3 Knuts from us and never paid 'em back," Fred said thoughtfully.

"Yes I did, are you thick?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"Oh, that's right, you did pay 'em back," George said thoughtfully, stroking his chin.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Now, don't you roll your eyes at us, Harry, my friend—" Fred began.

"Friend, yeah right," Harry interrupted.

"—ANNNYway, Harry, the point is, we'll help you fix it."

"Yeah, just like you fixed my headache," he replied flatly.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" George asked with a smile.

"Yes, but—"

"And your headache hasn't come back, has it?"

"No, but—"

"And there are no noticeable side effects, are there?"

"WHAT? Are you on drugs? What do you call this pointy thing growing out of my head?"

"That's what I thought. So you see, there's really nothing wrong," George finished up, completely ignoring Harry's look of outrage.

"Extraordinary logic, my brother," Fred said, beaming.

"As always," George replied jauntily, smiling extravagantly.

Harry said nothing, merely stood there, still seething. How he would ever venture outside the room again he had no idea. The horn wasn't going to go away by itself (probably) and he'd never see the light of day again if he didn't get rid of it…

"How?" he asked the twins bluntly.

"How what?" they replied innocently in unison.

"How will you get rid of it?"

The twins exchanged a very evil look. "How will we get rid of what?"

Harry glared at them and pointed to his horn. "THIS!"

Fred laughed and said, "Ooh, look, George, Harry's horny!"

George said, "Stay away from me, you weird necrophiliac!"

"I AM NOT A NECROPHILIAC!" Harry bellowed. "THAT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH BEING… YOU KNOW… WHAT YOU SAID BEFORE! SO STOP IT! HOW CAN I BLOODY GET RID OF IT?"

Then came what Harry had been half-expecting.

"It's gonna cost you."

Harry rolled his eyes yet again. He seemed to be making a habit out of this. "Fine. What do you want?"

The twins exchanged another evil look as malicious smiles grew on their faces.

"All we want…" began George.

"Is for you…" Fred continued George's sentence.

"To promise us one thing."

Although he was sure that this couldn't be good, Harry looked at them, then said, "Fine. What?"

Naturally, a huge grin grew on each of the twins' faces, and Fred said, "Promise you'll promise?"

"Huh?"

"I said, do you promise that you'll make the promise we want you to promise to promise… that you'll promise to promise."

"Um… no."

"Then you're gonna have that horn for the rest of your life."

"You'll never get a girlfriend!" George exclaimed as he started laughing, apparently overcome with hilarity at the thought of Harry's lonely future.

"I'll bet that weird Creevey kid would go out with him."

"The kid already stalks him. He'd marry Harry if Harry asked him."

"Yeah, but so would Ron, and Ron is straight, I think. So Harry must just be a woman."

"Harry, let us help you with your gender confusion."

"WHAT!" Harry yelled, confused. Because that's just what Harry did when he got confused. He yelled. And sometimes he ran around screaming like a deranged headless chicken. He'd never told anyone that, though.

"What we're trying to tell you, Harry, deranged headless chicken—"

Harry gave them a suspicious look. How had they known about the deranged headless chicken thing?

"—is that refuse our offer—"

"—the one about the promise—"

"—and you will wake up tomorrow morning as a woman."

"Irreversibly," Fred added, smiling.

"There is something really, really, really wrong with you two," Harry said, very disturbed.

"Thank you!" they chorused happily.

Harry muttered something along the lines of "not a compliment."

"Well?" Fred asked. "What do you say?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Harry grumbled. "What do I have to promise to do?"

"It's quite simple, really," George said. "Tonight, out parents are going out. Ginny is forcing us to all play a game of Truth or Dare— we're doing it just to humor her, we think it sounds bloody idiotic and so does Ronnikins."

"And we're sure you do too," Fred added. "I can't believe you told her yes," he said to George.

"Well, she threatened me with a broomstick in her hand, was I supposed to say no?" George responded.

"Yes."

"Well, I didn't. Get over it."

"I hate you."

"The feeling's mutual. Now, Harry--"

"What, you hate me?" Fred interrupted. "You're so immature!"

"Oh, I'm the immature one now, am I? Well I think-- OW! Stop poking me!"

Fred simply poked him again.

"STOP IT!" George bellowed. "I'M GOING TO BLOODY MURDER YOU!" And with that last thinly veiled death threat— ok, not at all veiled death threat— the full-out poking war began.

It had been going on for about three minutes when Harry got a brilliant idea. He noted that neither of the Weasley twins were paying attention to him. They were too busy attempting murder-by-poking. He also took note of the fact that there was an opening in the wall less than three feet away. This opening was called a doorway, and was relatively easy for Harry to walk through, unless he was chewing gum at the same time. He wasn't quite that coordinated. But right now, it was obstructed by a large block of wood commonly known as a door. The aforementioned door was locked, however, but all one had to do was unlock the door, and if one did this, then one would be able to walk easily through the doorway, provided that they opened the door first, of course. As Harry had proven time and time again, it is quite difficult to walk through a closed door. The realization that he could escape this promise was slowly growing, and this caused Harry to burst out, "I've… GOT A PLAN!" and smile maniacally, pleased to no end with himself.

Amazingly, even Harry's cry of "I've GOT A PLAN!" was not enough to stop the twins from their fight. Harry edged slowly towards the doorway… slowly… sllloowwwllllyyyy… s l l l o o w w w l l l l y y y y . . . he was almost there… and he touched the doorknob… turned it slowly… creaked open the door and… sprintedasfastahecouldfordearlifeoutintothehallandslammedthedoorshut!

Harry stood with his back to the door, panting heavily. He looked up at the ceiling in relief, an expression of happiness lighting up his face. Then he saw it.

The horn.

SHITOCKI MUSHROOMS! HE HAD FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE BLOODY HORN! IT WAS PINK AND FREAKING SPARKLY! WHAT WAS HE GONNA DO? Well, that wasn't hard. He did what ANY panicking person would do! Run around in circles for a half a minute, screaming frantically, then run back into the room, slam the door, and stare in fright at the gleeful expressions of Fred and George Weasley.

"Anyway, Horny I mean Harry, what we were going to say before we started trying to kill each other was—" But he was cut off by the sound of Ron knocking on the door.

"HEY! Fred, George, is everything all right in there? We heard screaming, and it sounded like a bloody hippogriff was rampaging around from the way the floor was shaking."

"No, we're fine, Ronnikins. Go find Harry," Fred said with an evil gleam in his eye.

"Oh yeah, speaking of which— Have you two seen him? I've not seen him all day, and with you two around, he's probably lying in a gutter somewhere, dead and with the shape of a unicorn," Ron said through the door.

"Your lack of faith in us is depressing, little brother," George replied. "What makes you think we would ever do anything mean to our dear friend Harry?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something scathing, but was cut off by Fred's hand over his mouth. "Shut up!" George whispered.

"Look, can I just come in?" Ron asked impatiently. Why are you keeping the door closed? What are you doing in there, anyway?"

Fred replied, "Sleeping."

George gave him a quizzical look and mouthed, "Sleeping?"

Fred shrugged and nodded.

Ron stated clearly from outside the door, "Fine, I'm coming in."

Fred and George both burst out at exactly the same time, "NO!"

The handle turned…

The twins shoved Harry behind the door…

The door opened…

…and Ron stepped in.

"RON!" Fred shouted with flagrantly flamboyant— and extremely ersatz— happiness at the sight of his brother. He ran over and gave him a huge embrace, probably with the intent of suffocating him. And it would have worked had Harry, forgetting about his horn, not gotten a sudden burst of his hero complex, and jumped out from behind the door.

Well, he didn't really jump out, he just sort of squawked. And when he did, all three Weasley brothers froze. Ron said, "Harry? That you, mate?" and began to make his way over to the door.

Fred and George each grabbed one arm and said, "RON! Nope, not Harry, that's our pet, um, chicken, he's vicious, don't think you want to meet him, now LET'S GO, SHALL WE?" and immediately started to drag Ron in the opposite direction.

However, Ron managed to shake them off, and ran over to the door. He tried to pull it away from the wall, which would have exposed Harry and his horn. (He was standing in the little triangle-shaped space formed by the two walls' corner and the door.) However, Harry, on the other side of the door, was holding the doorknob. Ron said, "Harry, what's the matter? Why're you hiding?"

Harry tried to think fast. However, thinking had never been one of his strong points, and the best he could come up with at a moment's notice was, "Er… I'm not wearing anything!"

Ron immediately stopped trying to pull back the door. His features contorted into a look of confusion. He glanced next at Fred and George, neither of whom was wearing shirts, because it was summer. He also obviously noticed that their hair was messed up, but he didn't know it was from the fight. He looked back at the door behind which Harry was standing, presumably "not wearing anything," and a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face. He stared at Fred and George for a second (they were still grinning fraudulently), and his left eye began to twitch violently. Ron's face turne very green, and he then ran out of the room, slamming the door on the way out. They heard him mutter as he raced away, "Knew I ought to have stayed out."

Fred and George exchanged glances once more, then started guffawing loudly. "Harry!" George gasped, tears running down his face. "Harry! What an awful excuse! What in Merlin's name made you think of that?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he said, not able to help the small smile that was growing on his face.

"But anyway," George said, still laughing a bit, "We still haven't told you about your promise."

Harry's face fell.

"Now, now, Harry, it's not that bad," Fred said, noting Harry's dismal disposition.

"Not at all," George said, smiling.

"No, all you have to do is this, Harry," Fred said.

"Promise us that you'll do one dare of ours at Ginny's Truth or Dare game," George finished.

They both waited expectantly.

Well, it's not as bad as it could be, Harry thought. He ignored the nagging feeling at the back of his mind and said hesitantly, "Fine."

The twins' smiles grew wider and significantly more evil.

Okey dokey then, that's the end of that. We'll see where the next chapter goes, if anywhere. Please review, it would make me ever so happy. YAY for boredom! Not really, but you know...