Colin Aitkins was having his favourite dream: the one where he received his Hogwarts letter seven years early, because he was so brilliant, and so found himself a student at the time of the Battle of Hogwarts. Somehow, defying basic logic and physiology, he was already eleven years old and not four, and, defying the instructions for the younger students to evacuate, he grabbed the Sword of Gryffindor after Neville Longbottom dropped it and —

"Psst!"

— swung it in a great arc, taking off the head of Voldemort's snake, causing the evil sorcerer to drop dead before Harry Potter could even cast a spell —

"Colin, wake up!" Maisie hissed.

For one more moment, he managed to cling to the dream, until Maisie pinched his arm, hard.

"What?" he said grumpily.

"Shhh!"

Colin opened his eyes to darkness. Around him, he could hear the steady breathing of his roommates. "What time is it?" he whispered.

"Late," Maisie whispered back. "Get up. I need to talk to you."

Faint rustling told him she had made her way back to the staircase.

For a moment he considered rolling over and going back to sleep, but if there was one thing he'd learnt about Maisie Wilkins in the past days, it was that she didn't give up easily. If I go back to sleep, she'll be back up here in ten minutes.

Probably with a bucket of cold water.

He threw back the covers, shoved his feet into his slippers, and grumbled his way down to the Hufflepuff common room.

He was a bit mollified by the fact that Maisie had procured chocolate frogs and a bag of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. "What do you want?"

She offered him a frog. "What do you know about brooms?"

He unwrapped the frog and caught it on its first hop. "They fly."

"About taking care of them," she clarified.

Colin shrugged. "You polish them, right? And there's something with the bristles. You woke me up to ask me about broom care?"

Maisie looked away from him, gaze on the fire in the hearth. "Madam Weasley told me to give my broom — the one I was using, anyway — a good polish. I mean, I could order handle polish from a catalogue, but — that commercial stuff, real fliers never use it, they make their own."

"I don't think that's true." Colin ate the frog's hind legs and dug the card out of the box. "Because all the catalogues, they have the big Quidditch players saying 'Madam Mimms polish is the only one I trust' and stuff. Drat, Ron Weasley again."

"Swap you." Maisie offered her own chocolate frog card. "I got his mum."

"Thanks! I haven't got a Molly yet."

"Anyway, the catalogues, that's just branding." Maisie as they exchanged cards. "It doesn't mean they really use it. I bet Madam Weasley wouldn't ever use something just from a shop or a catalogue."

"So?" Colin ate the frog's head and studied the Every-Flavour Beans. In the firelight, it was hard to tell the difference between mint and lime. He took a chance. "Madam Weasley probably just meant for you to use the stuff in the broom shed."

"She let me come to her coaching, Colin," Maisie said. "Even though almost all the other students there are at least fourth year. I have to show her that I know about flying, and brooms."

"Well, alright, but I don't see how — eww." He pulled a face. "Brussels sprout flavour."

"First, we need to get a recipe, don't you see?" Maisie picked a red bean and popped it in her mouth. She gave him a smug smile. "Strawberry."

"There'll be a recipe somewhere in the Library," Colin said, getting interested in the idea despite himself. "Probably lots of them. Maybe ones that have been lost and forgotten about." And for recovering the lost broom-handle polish recipe used by Merlin himself, Colin Aitkins, Order of Merlin Second Class. Reality rudely intervened. "But that doesn't help much. I mean, unless the ingredients are something we can pick from the gardens, the recipe is just a recipe."

"There's heaps of stuff in the Potions storeroom," Maisie said matter-of-factly.

Colin stared at her. "That's completely mad," he said at last. "That's absolutely certifiable, that is. Stealing from Professor Granger's storeroom? Do you know what she'd do to you?"

Maisie shrugged. "Probably detention."

"Or turn you into a toad!"

"No, teachers aren't allowed to use Transfiguration as a punishment, I looked it up. They can give detention, take House points, and set lines and essays." Maisie ticked each point off on her fingers. "Only the Headmistress can expel us, and they can't cause us permanent physical harm, either."

"And you just happened to look that up?"

"Of course I looked it up," Maisie said, speaking slowly and clearly as if to a child or a simpleton. "If you don't know what they're going to do to you, you don't know whether it's worth breaking a rule or not."

"We've already been in trouble — we were lucky not to lose any House points, you know. Lisa Ayersley said that Professor Granger usually takes fifty points for students in the corridors after lights out."

"No, she doesn't," Maisie said dismissively. "She might say she will, but she wouldn't. I looked her up, and a month ago she was working as a researcher."

"So?"

Maisie grinned. "So, new teachers are easy to get around. We're in luck there are so many this year. Just cry a bit and look remorseful."

Colin snorted. "You, crying? Don't make me laugh."

"Yes, that's why you'll be the one filching what we need."

"No way!" Colin shook his head. "Besides. Let's say we find a recipe, and you manage to steal the ingredients. Professor Granger would notice you brewing up handle polish when you were supposed to be making Pepper-Up or something."

Maisie nodded. "We'd have to do it somewhere else. I haven't worked out where yet."

"So this is all theoretical, really," Colin said, relieved.

"Sure," Maisie said. She smiled. "If it makes you feel better. So will you help me look for a recipe? We can go to the Library after class tomorrow, there's no coaching until Saturday."

Colin sighed. "Fine. Now can I go back to bed?"

"If you like. I've got to keep thinking about where we can make the polish, once we know how. Do you think there's a list of all the rooms in the school somewhere?"

"A handy guide for students on the best ways to break the rules?" Colin got to his feet. "No, Maisie, I really don't think there's a list of all the rooms anywhere we could get at it."

"Mmmm," she said, gazing into the fire.

Colin left her to it, but once he'd crawled back into bed he found himself tossing and turning. There's no way to get into the Potions storeroom without someone seeing. Even if Professor Granger doesn't notice, one of the other students will … is there a way to make sure they don't tell her?

He couldn't think of one, rolled over and punched his pillow. Then I need to make sure there's a reason for me to go in there …

Appalled, he opened his eyes and stared up at the canopy over his bed. What's wrong with me? I'm thinking of ways to get away with breaking the rules! I should be thinking of ways to talk Maisie out of it.

The thought made him grin. Talk Maisie Wilkins out of anything, that's a good one.

Maybe I should tell Professor Granger what she's planning. After all, she did make me promise to come to her before I did anything …

She meant anything dangerous, Colin argued back at himself. This is just broom handle polish.

What can go wrong with that?

.

.

Author's Notes: In the books, chocolate frogs don't jump, so I've gone with the film. Also, Ron having a chocolate frog card is canon-ish, from something JK Rowling said in an interview, but Molly having one isn't.