Chapter 12
The twin's first two weeks at Hogwarts came and went. They were already gaining a reputation for being troublemakers. The Gryffindors loved them and hated them at the same time- loved them, for the constant entertainment they provided in lessons; hated them, for the points they were losing on a daily basis.
The twins did admit that they liked some of their lessons. Transfiguration, while difficult, they seemed to have a particular talent for, and they had a respect for McGonagall that they couldn't explain, so they didn't mess around in her classes. Well, not as much.
Charms was the other class the twins liked much more than their others. Professor Flitwick was a smiling little man and didn't seem to mind when they made jokes, so they refrained from playing the jokes on him and directed them at their classmates instead. In fact, they were top of the class in Charms, and Flitwick often commented on the flare they were showing for his subject already.
Potions and History of Magic, however, were terrible. History of Magic was almost so boring that they could do hardly anything to make it enjoyable. Potions, meanwhile, was even worse. Snape had already given them two detentions, and it was when they were cleaning cauldrons for the fourth hour straight that they almost decided to give up the pranks during Potions. Almost.
It was on Thursday at breakfast that the twins saw a huddle around a notice in the Great Hall. Flying lessons for first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, which had started late this year due to Madam Hooch contracting Scrofungulus, were that afternoon at 2pm. Fred and George high-fived. This was what they had been looking forward to.
It was a fine day. The sky was a forget-me-not blue and there was not a cloud in sight. The lake was as still and as clear as glass.
Madam Hooch, a stern looking witch with eyes like a hawk and spiked grey hair, led the first years to a flat piece of land overlooking the lake with soft heather covering every inch of grass. Fred and George were fairly sure the soft heather was there on purpose to soften the inevitable falls of students on their first flying lesson.
"First years," Madam Hooch said, in order of a greeting. "My name is Madam Hooch, and I will be teaching you how to fly on broomsticks. Anyone messing around and putting their peers in danger will be expelled. You have been warned."
Fred and George raised their eyebrows but said nothing.
"Now, all of your stand to the left of your broomsticks, hold your right hand over it, and say 'UP'."
The class did as she asked, with the result of only Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Alicia, and one of the Ravenclaw girl's brooms leaping into their hands.
"You have to say it with confidence!" Madam Hooch instructed, and she went over to Kenneth to try to help.
"Good one guys!" Lee said to the twins. "I've flown before, and I guess Angelina and Alicia have too, but you two haven't- I'm impressed."
"Well, Lee," Fred said with an air of superiority, "it is true that George and I haven't had the privilage upbringing that you had-"
"-but," George continued, "we have natural talent that one such as yourself can only dream of having."
Lee snorted. Madam Hooch gave him a piercing look.
"Now that you all have you brooms, I want you to mount it. Watch the way I grip it, and be careful not to slide off the end, we don't want any casualties today."
It was with impatience that Lee and the twins waited for Madam Hooch to finally give them permission to fly. And fly they did.
It was an immediate instinct. The twins soared above the grounds and when Madam Hooch called them back down, plummeted into a dive before pulling up inches from the ground. The rest of the Gryffindors, including Lee, clapped and whooped, clearly impressed by their obvious talent.
"Thank you, thank you-"
"-we're here all week-"
"-signed pictures and autographs are available-"
"-at a small cost-"
Madam Hooch was not impressed. "Fred and George Weasley, if you don't mind, I'm trying to teach a lesson here. Now-"
It was at dinner that evening that Charlie told the twins about Quidditch.
"What's Quidditch?" they had asked when he had mentioned Quidditch practice in passing conversation.
Percy took the opportunity to join in the conversation.
"Quidditch," he said, in his most teacher-like voice, "is a magical sport played on broomsticks. It's kind of like a cross between basketball and cricket..."
Charlie laughed. "No, Perce, it really isn't." He took a bite of his burger thoughtfully. "How to describe Quidditch?"
Lee Jordan then jumped in.
"Quidditch. Quidditch is amazing."
"Quidditch is a true team game," Percy added.
"Quidditch is dangerous and exciting, all at the same time."
"Quidditch is the best part of Hogwarts," finished Charlie.
"So-"
'-I guess you all really like Quidditch."
They nodded with fervour. Fred and George started to laugh, but when the other's didn't join, their expression serious, they stopped.
"Wow, you're serious about this aren't you?"
"Guys, you have never played it. The freedom you feel when you're up there, the wind blowing in your face. The glory, when you're team wins, when the crowd are cheering your name. Nothing can beat that feeling."
"Wow." There was an identical glint in the twins' eyes.
"Can we play?"
Charlie shook his head. "Sorry. First years can't try out for the team. It's the rules."
Percy patted Fred condescendingly on the shoulder. "Maybe next year you can go for it, I'm sure you've got a fighting chance."
It was in silence that they finished their dinner; when the twins stood up and took their leave, they didn't need to say anything to know what the other was thinking. No way were they waiting a year to play. They were playing tonight.
At midnight the twins, after a quick glance at each other to check they were awake, pulled back their covers to reveal that they were in fact still fully dressed. They grabbed their trainers and crept silently out of their dormitory and down to the common room.
The Fat Lady was not impressed.
"What are you two doing?" she grumbled. "I need my sleep too, you know!"
"Sorry!" they whispered, leaving her still muttering in their wake.
It was exciting, wandering around Hogwarts at night. It had an eerie silence to it that wouldn't have been so creepy if it wasn't for the slow, rhythmic breathing of the paintings and occasional footsteps from the shadows.
The twins had almost reached the entrance hall when they jumped in shock, only just stopping themselves from screaming. A softly glowing figure had appeared suddenly in the corridor ahead of them, and it was only when they saw that the figure was in fact Nearly-Headless Nick that they allowed themselves to breath again.
Nearly-Headless Nick floated over to them with a lofty expression.
"And what are you two doing out of bed?" he asked, raising his silver eyebrow.
"We're going to the Quidditch field-"
"-we don't think it's fair that first years don't get to play-"
"-so we're going anyway."
He looked both impressed and disapproving of the twin's bold honesty.
"Well, don't let me keep you. I won't tell anyone, don't worry. I miss the days when people cared about what I was doing in the middle of the night..."
He floated away, still murmuring about the trials of death.
"George-"
"Yes?"
"Don't let us come back as ghosts when we die." Fred wore a serious expression. "I think death would take all the fun out of life."
It took him a moment to register the logic of what he had just said, before they were snorting with laughter, desperately trying not to be too loud.
Half an hour later, Fred and George had broken into the broom cupboard and had stolen a box of plain golf balls, as well as the two broomsticks that looked the least tattered. It was with excitement that they trudged down to the field with their wands lighting the way.
"You know Georgie, I'm kinda glad first years can't play Quidditch."
"Get lost, why?"
"Because we wouldn't be sneaking around at midnight with the full moon above our heads and the whole of the pitch to ourselves, that's why."
George laughed, and punched Fred playfully on the arm. "Come on, we're here."
The pitch was empty, looking twice as big as it did in the daytime as a result. They were lucky though- the full moon lit it enough that they could see the opposite side of the pitch- perfect visibility for playing 'Quidditch' (although as the only available materials at their disposal were golf balls, it was more catch-on-broomsticks).
They jumped on their brooms, grinned at each other, and took off into the cool, clear air. The freedom they had felt earlier that day returned with abundance. They decided to have a race from one side of the field to the other before using the golf balls. George won, but only, Fred insisted, because his broom kept veering to the left against his will.
Next, they threw golf balls to each other, varying direction and strength with each throw. Neither missed a throw.
That is, neither missed a throw until Fred decided to do a loop the loop on the way to catch it. The broom, not used to being flown in such a flamboyant manner, began to vibrate half way upside down, and it only took a second for Fred to lose his grip and fall, fall, fall.
The last thing he saw was George's look of horror before everything went black.
A/N: Am I cruel stopping here? Sorry people! Anyway, sorry this chapter is so short, doesn't it annoy you when you write 2000+ words in an hour and then only write 1500 over three days? This is my life, readers. Please review! Huge thanks to Sleepwalkingluna14, OwlSky15678, RoseQuartz1, Sofia, Contashas, LunaWeasley394, and Spiralling-Down for your lovely reviews!