AN: Yay!! The first Fred chapter! Draco was getting on my nerves. :) I had so much fun writing this – my very own Quidditch match. I hope that you have fun reading it!

The Gryffindor Quidditch Team entered the field. Fred Weasley grinned while the on looking fans whistled and cheered enthusiastically. Despite the pouring rain, it still felt like a great day for the game. Gryffindor against Slytherin, everyone loved this.

The Slytherin's oppourtunity to cheer came as their team stalked onto the Pitch. Draco Malfoy was wearing his regular sneer, though he didn't look quite as self-assured as usual. And he shouldn't. This game would be a shining victory for Gryffindor House if Fred had anything to do with it.

"Captains shake hands." The usual glares masked behind a courteous handshake. Or, not so masked on Marcus Flint's part.

"Mount your brooms."

At the shrill sound of the whistle Fred pushed off and was fifty feet above the ground in seconds. It was clear from the start that this was not going to be a good game for his team. Fifteen minutes into the game, the Slytherins were already ahead. Fred searched the pitch for a target to send a Bludger towards.

Alicia might do…

She had dropped the Quaffle for no apparent reason, and it was now being carried, very quickly, back the opposite direction by a Slytherin Chaser.

"Warrington of Slytherin has got the Quaffle," said Lee Jordan, "and he's making good time on his way back towards the Gryffindor goal posts."

Fred set off, hoping to cut in front of the rival chaser before he reached Wood. But sometimes owning a Cleansweep had serious drawbacks. And where was George?

Brilliant. Fred knew that he had no chance of catching up to the Slytherin in time, and his fellow beater was no where to be seen. The last thing his team needed was to be another ten points behind.

Fred heard a familiar whizzing sound behind him and glanced over his shoulder. He spun to the left just in time to avoid a Bludger flying past his head.

Oh, there's George!

The Bludger continued past him and reached it's target. Warrington.

"And the Quaffle is back in Gryffindor possession, thanks to a very well sent Bludger from George Weasley!" Lee's announcement allowed many Red and Gold clad fans to let out a sigh of relief. "Johnson now has the Quaffle and is speeding across the pitch. Awouch! Well Done! She narrowly dodges a Bludger and keeps right on flying."

Angelina sped up, focusing only on getting the Quaffle across the pitch, though she was aware of the fact that the Slytherin chaser Montague was right on her tail. Fred watched from the other side of the field. "Almost there, almost there. Come on, pick it up Angelina." Montague cut in front of her and made a grab for the ball in her arms. She ducked momentarily and came up behind him. But by now the rest of the Slytherin team knew what she was doing. Katie Bell flew closer to the center of the pitch, dodging Malfoy to make herself open. Angelina passed the Quaffle to Katie who caught it neatly and raced towards the opposing goal posts. The enemy keeper was currently distracted by a stray Bludger shooting towards his head, but was quickly regaining his wits, however few they may be. "Let's go Katie, now's your only chance." Fred wished that he were close enough to help with a projectile Bludger.

She seized the opportunity and threw the Quaffle. It spun straight towards it's mark. But unfortunately, the Slytherin keeper saw her move, and flew to grab the soaring Quaffle. There was no way that he would miss it, he was so close.

Okay, there was one way he could miss.

"THE QUAFFLE IS IN! George Weasley saves it again! That brings the score to a tie. Gryffindor- 30, Slytherin- 30."

A moan came from the general area of the Slytherin stand. The Gryffindor players were not too busy congratulating George and Katie to miss the loathing glares that they were getting from their opponents. It was obvious that the Slytherins were not going to give up without a fight.

Fred passed a congratulatory wink to his twin and prepared to continue the game that was, miraculously, starting to look up. He flew upward to the Gryffindor goal posts to guard their keeper from very unfriendly, very heavy balls.

The game was already in full action again. Chasers trying desperately to keep the Quaffle in their team's possession, while still attempting to keep from being de-broomed by a Bludger. No movement from either of the seekers though.

Fred watched his twin knock the Quaffle clean out of Flint's arms with a Bludger. George laughed and waved at the furious chaser with his bat before starting off after the other Bludger, which was heading straight for Angelina. Fred noticed the Slytherin team captain yell something to his two beaters, Derrick and Bole, who were both close by to him. Probably telling them off for not pummeling George while they had the chance.

At the sudden commotion above him Fred looked up. The Quaffle was rushing towards Wood. The game had just not been going very well for him today. - Fred grimaced. That just might have something to do with the Dizziness Dainty that he and George had, uh, tested on Oliver the night before. The result had been Wood passing out on the floor of the Common Room and not waking until after breakfast the next morning. Apparently the mixture on that one was just a bit stronger than the others. - One of the Slytherin chasers had flown round behind the goal post and caught the Quaffle from a team member before circling back on the far end. From the surprise and panic on Wood's face, he hadn't been paying enough attention to tell what had the Slytherin team had been planning. Wood did the only thing that seemed to have a chance of working, and simply sped on his broom to attempt to stop the Quaffle from scoring.

"Wood saves the Quaffle! Clever Montague, but not clever enough. Well done Oliver Wood." The Gryffindor supporters applauded jubilantly. "Not that I'm choosing sides Professor, 'cause I'm absolutely not." Jordan added.

Fred checked the position of both the Bludgers. Well, one was speeding towards Draco Malfoy. Good Bludger, that. One was missing, and a missing Bludger was never good. They had a nasty habit of sneaking up behind you and knocking you senseless and straight out of the game. They were also dangerous when you were this high above the ground.

Fred flew further into the Pitch, ready to set off and save a teammate. It was then that he saw Bole, currently in the process of hitting that one missing Bludger full-force, in George's direction.

"GEORGE!"

He spun towards Fred in surprise. The Bludger collided with the side of George's head and he slid off his broom. Completely unconscious. One-hundred-fifty feet above the ground.

Fred tilted his broom downward and flew as quickly as he could. He had to push his broom to go faster than George could fall. Closer, closer. Almost there. There!

Fred grabbed George's robes before he could fall any further. He slipped down his broom.
100 feet from the ground.
He had to slow down. Had to stop himself.
75 feet from the ground.
Fred pulled up on his broom with his free hand. George was slipping though… he couldn't hold both.
50 feet.
Fred gripped the broom with his knees and grabbed his brother with both arms. There was blood covering George's face. He couldn't stay on the broom, it was going too fast.
25 feet.
He was slipping anyway. Now or never.
10.

Fred tightened his grip on George and let go of the broom. They both crashed eight feet to the ground, one on top of the other.

AAHHH!! What will happen to our pretty twins?? Leave a review and I just might tell you :) Okay, I'll tell you anyway, but I would still really, really, love a review. Otherwise, I shall feel worthless and cast the Killing Curse at myself. Then how would you feel, hmm?