Heeeey everyone :D

Another chapter... Sorry it takes so long... I'm easily distracted, and I always seem to forget about FF ):

I want to say a HUUGEEEE THANK-YOU for all the reviews, I really need them :) They keep me going :) I want to thank people individually, but I need to actually read the reviews again... So I will do next time *blushes*

Anyway, you're probably not even reading this, so whatever...

George shifted a little, the sunlight streaming onto his face. Opening a bleary eye, he looked around. He was still on the sofa in the living room, Fred asleep at the other end. Both of the twins had fallen asleep shortly after their conversation, tired of what seemed like years of planning. They were going to sneak into the ministry at night, daytime would be too obvious - practically asking for an arrest. But sneaking in at night meant a long day of waiting and being too nervous and cautious to do anything other than sitting around waiting for the hours to drag by.

Fred stirred a little, mumbling in his sleep as George got off the sofa and looked around. The Burrow never seemed right this quiet and empty. It just didn't seem to work like that.

'Morning,'

George half looked up from his seat on the floor; Fred had woken and had flopped onto the rug opposite his twin.

'George, I was thinking we could go to the shop today,' Fred suggested, looking distantly out of the window.

'Why?' George looked out the window too, trying to work out if it was some part of the plan.

'Just to, you know, see it again.'

'Sure,' George replied, not looking up. Why didn't Fred seem to realise that every single cell of his twin was yelling to back down from the plan?

'You can't sit around moping all day,' Fred said tentatively. 'You'll turn into Ron.'

George couldn't help but smirk slightly as he summoned his and Fred's backpacks.

Finally, after what seemed like at least a week of waiting, the plan was starting to happen. The twins, unaware of the normal way to access the Ministry of Magic, were waiting in a London alleyway, hidden under a magically enlarged invisibility cloak watching the last of the muggle workers leave their offices drearily.

'D'you have a bad feeling about this?' George whispered, looking into the space that was probably Fred.

'Sure,' he replied casually, 'but when has anything gone right for us recently anyway...'

Streetlamps flickered on and glowed a pale orange, illuminating the dreary road and the telephone box that stood unnoticed by muggles as Fred and George edged carefully over to the box.

'Ouch,' Fred muttered as his twin stood on his foot. Telephone boxes were not spacious places... George cursed darkly as he recieved the nudge in the ribs in return.

'Thanks,' he said sarcastically, reaching out for the telephone receiver. Thankfully, Harry and Ron had let enough slip about the entrance for Fred and George to have a brief plan. It could have been more detailed, and, with the twins' skill, almost foolproof, but foolproof took all the adventure out of life and even Percy-like plans never went completely right.

Jabbing a finger at the buttons, Fred dialled the number over George's shoulder. 62442.

'Please state your name and purpose,' a cool female voice echoed in the box, making both twins jump even though they knew it was coming.

'Fred and George Weasley.' George replied to the telephone, unsure of how to hold it. 'Here for...' he swallowed, glancing over his shoulder at Fred. They couldn't just give away their plan, but before they could come up with a reason to get in, two badges appeared in a tray on the wall of the box. George picked up his own. It read: 'George Weasley, secret mission.' He grinned as he pinned it on; even the Ministry understood them sometimes.

With a jerk, the phone box descended slowly into the ground. The twins didn't say a word as the muggle London disappeared from sight and they were lead into blackness, but George could feel Fred's tense breathing on his shoulder, and he knew his was identical. Their pranks may have been major, but this wasn't a prank anymore. Slowly, the box descended further and little chinks of light appeared around the twins' invisible feet, until the box landed with a soft echoing 'thump' on the stone floor of the atrium.

Pushing open the old door carefully, Fred and George got out with difficulty, trying to stay under the cloak. The Atrium was dark, and completely empty. It looked different from their Father's descriptions; the golden fountain was no longer there, but neither were the statues that stood in the reign of Voldemort. Instead a large statue of a Phoenix stood alone in the centre of the room, pearly water droplets dripping softly and rhythmically from its wings. George couldn't help opening his mouth in wonder; the ceiling rose high and, even in the silence, he could imagine the noise of wizards and witches bustling round in the day.

'Lumos,' the twins whispered in unison, as the tips of their wands glowed a golden light. They shined them around the room, causing small golden beams to reflect off the polished marble surfaces.

'Is there anyone else in here?' Fred muttered under his breath, shining his wands into corners.

'I don't know,' George replied, 'there could be. I wouldn't be surprised if there was security...'

A muffled snore in a darkened corner answered George's words. Both twins' ears perked up; they couldn't be seen. With a quick look at each other, the twins rapidly fired sleeping spells in every direction. There was no time to be careful anymore, and the twins had to be as quick as possible; the department of mysteries was a risky place to visit at anytime, but especially in a situation like this.

Walking slowly along the marble tiles, George shone his wand, searching for the lifts their Father had mentioned countless times. They didn't have a map, but having a Father who had worked in the Ministry longer than they could remember did help a little.

'George?' Fred's voice called out in the darkness; the twins had taken the cloak off with the knowledge that anyone in the room was in a deep sleep, and were hunting for the lifts.

'Mhm,' George replied, spinning round and shining his wand in Fred's eyes.

'I think I've found the lifts,' he replied, blinking a little at the brightness.

George looked in the direction of Fred's wand. He was right, the lifts were standing still at the end of the atrium, their golden grilles polished and glinting. With a jab of his wand, Fred caused one of the grills to raise noisily, allowing the twins to slip in. With a loud clanging noise, the lift began to move downwards to the Department of Mysteries...