AN: Okay, here is a long chapter presented a day early as an aplology. My chapters will come quite a bit further apart from now on. Mostly because I realized that I really need to work on my other story more and also because I am getting behind on this one and will soon completely run out of story to post :(and that would be horrible.): So, here you have Chapter nine of To Separate a Twin: Out of Hand...

Two days had passed, and if any of the gossip was true George Weasley had only become worse. Draco was enjoying himself as students got curious. He had certainly done well; no one would even consider that Weasley had been poisoned. Malfoy had almost his original plans for Potter and was just proud that he had come this far undetected.

But Draco's troubles were not over. Millicent Bulstrode had pestered Professor Snape to the point that he could no longer ignore her problem with Draco. Snape approached Draco in the Slytherin Common Room that morning.

"Mr. Malfoy, I have been told that you took Miss Bulstrode's cat." He raised his eyebrows slowly in a way that clearly said he did not care whatsoever, but he was Head of House. Millicent stood behind Snape with her hands on her hips, smirking victoriously at Draco.

Draco put on his innocent face. And that just meant smiling politely and trying to keep the regular sneer away. "Professor, I can't tell you anything that I haven't already told her. I never knew that she even had a cat until she accused me of taking it."

"So you have no ideas as to where her cat might be now?" Snape folded his arms.

No sir." Draco looked pityingly at Millicent. "You can ask anyone else, her cat is always running off on it's own."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco. "Malfoy, you just told me that you did not know Miss Bulstrode had a cat. But obviously, you did."

Draco was wishing desperately for a time-turner right about then. Bulstrode looked overjoyed. But unfortunately for all things good and just, Malfoy was very good at improvising.

"Sir, I only said that because that's what everyone else says happened." Draco tried his best to look sweet. "I was really just trying to give you as much help as possible so we could find Mil…dreds cat." He said, clearly hesitating at the end. Millicent glowered at him.

"I'm sure that she appreciates your concern." Snape looked entirely unconvinced, but still like he couldn't care less. He turned to Millicent and gave her what he might have thought to be a sympathetic look before leaving the room without another word.

"Professor! Sir, wait! You can't actually believe all that rubbish!" All that Bulstrode got from Severus Snape was a glimpse of his robes billowing after him out the door. She turned to Draco, furious. "I saw you carrying that thing into your room. After the game, remember? I don't know what it was, but I'm willing to bet you're not supposed to have it. I'll get you somehow Malfoy. I swear I'll find my cat or I'll find a way to get you expelled."

She walked angrily to her room and slammed the door. Draco stood frozen to the spot. Someone knew about his creature! And not only that, it was someone bent on ruining his life.

"Katie!" Alicia Spinnet tossed the Quaffle over her shoulder to her teammate. Katie backed up to catch it and then passed it on to Angelina.

"Fred, to you!" Angelina spun around and threw the ball.

Fred flew in front of the spinning Quaffle and waited for the perfect moment before sending it flying far down the pitch with a swing of his bat. "Harry! Go for it!" He yelled.

Harry, who had been flying about thirty feet above the rest of them, tilted his broom and sped down after the Quaffle. He caught up to it and grabbed it out of the air, then turned and raced back the direction that he had come. As he neared the rest of the team, he pulled back his arm and threw the ball as far as he could. "George, It's yours!"

George, instead of getting ready to hit the ball to Wood had been busy practicing barrel rolls on his broom. He righted his broom when he heard Harry yell, and without another thought involved, hit the Quaffle as hard as he could - sending it the opposite direction of his team and down to the ground.

"GEORGE!" Wood yelled from his place at the goal posts. "What are you doing? We're never going to get this right if you don't do your part!"

"Oops." George said with his face completely blank of emotion. He made no move to apologise or pick up the Quaffle. Oliver sighed and shook his head.

"Let's land, everyone. We'll finish with strategy work." The team started to the ground, but Fred flew over to George.

"Look, George. I know that you don't want to-" Fred stopped as he saw the cold glare in his twin's eyes.

"Bugger off, Fred." George said shortly. "You're right, I don't want to talk to you." He flew past Fred and started for the ground.

Fred hadn't ever before had any need to consider what his life would be like without George in it. But during the past two days he'd learned all too well. He had searched his mind continually for something that he or someone else had done to make this happen, but could find none. There had to be something else going on.

Eventually Fred followed his team to the ground. They were gathered around a chart that Wood was holding in front of him. Surprise, surprise, George was at it again.

"Wood. There is no point in me looking at this." He accented each word by tapping his bat against his leg. "I'm a beater, not a chaser. This is a chart….for chasers." He tapped the paper with a gloved finger and stared at Oliver like he needed serious mental attention.

Wood returned George's stare angrily. "George, I can't believe that I'm having to tell you this. We're a team. I'm sure that you can wait for the girls to look at this."

"And if I don't want to?" George asked arrogantly.

"That's not an option." Oliver was obviously fed up with George's attitude problem. "If you mess us up once more, I'm taking you out of the next game." He stared evenly into his beater's scowl.

The team exchanged glances. George had been unbearably bloody-minded since the beginning of practice, but no one could be sure if Wood would actually carry through with his threat. Fred stepped closer from where he had landed behind George.

"We can do without you, George." Oliver said.

Before anyone really knew what had happened, George's expression turned from defiant to livid and he raised his beater's club. There was a loud crack and the sound of Wood's yell. One of the girls let out a startled scream and Harry and Fred ran to George.

Fred grabbed George's arm just before he could bring his bat down on Oliver's head again. It took Harry's help to completely restrain him. The three chasers hurried to Wood and found him stunned and barely conscious, a trickle of blood running from his temple.

George let out a harsh laugh and shrugged out of Harry and Fred's grasps. He threw his bat on the ground next to him and smirked down at his team captain lying in the sand. "I hope you can do without me," George announced, "because I quit the team." At that he turned and stalked away from the astonished Quidditch team.

Hermione and Ron ran onto the pitch from where they had been waiting for Harry by the stands. "What happened?" Hermione asked urgently, looking after George's receding figure. Ron stood behind her, out of breath and clearly upset by what he had just seen his older brother do.

Katie and Angelina helped Wood to stand while Alicia supported his back. He pressed his hand to the side of his head and grimaced at the blood on his fingers.

"I'll go find a Professor." Angelina said hurriedly, already turning towards the school.

Fred reached out and stopped her. "No…" He dropped his hand to his side. "There's something wrong with George."

"Really?" Wood asked harshly, still holding him a palm to his forehead.

Fred shook his head exasperatedly. "I mean something happened to him, changed him. I need to find out what." He looked imploringly at his team. "You all know George. You know that this isn't him. Give me a chance to fix it before you tell anyone. Please."

Wood barely hesitated, then nodded, his face solemn. Hermione opened her mouth, but then closed it decidedly. The girls and Harry nodded as well, and Fred half-smiled gratefully. He raised his hand slightly toward their Captain's head. "I'm sorry Oliver," he said briefly before putting his bat on the ground next to George's and walking off quickly in the direction that he had gone.

Draco walked out if the doors of the school and towards the Quidditch Pitch with the rest of his team. He had just been shoved to the side of the hall by an irate George Weasley, then passed by his very dejected, yet still somehow determined looking twin - And apparently the fun didn't stop there.

The Gryffindor team was on their way from the Pitch, and seemed rather out of sorts. Wood was obviously angry and worried and was holding his hand to a bleeding cut on his head. Malfoy couldn't help but be proud of what he had created, as he enjoyed imagining what had happened.

Potter, Weasley, and Granger were behind the rest, talking as they walked. Draco deliberately slowed as he walked closer to them.

"…thinking about what Fred said." Hermione was walking between them and staring, concentrated on the ground. "There might actually be something wrong with George. Honestly, something magical."

Ron nodded slowly with a troubled look. "Yeah… But like what?"

"Ron, please. It could be anything." She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "Everything he's doing sounds like the results of maybe a mood-altering spell or potion, even a poison. I'm going to do some research right away. Maybe I can help Fred."

"It seems like…"

Draco finished walking past them as Potter started talking. He didn't want to hear anymore anyway. How had he not expected this? Of course Granger would investigate! He couldn't let her.

She would probably go to the library immediately, and likely find out as much as she needed before he could do anything. His mind raced with possibilities. The only obvious thing was that she had to be stopped. He had found the right book on his first try, and she had months upon years of research practice.

Draco and his team reached the Quidditch pitch and started warm-ups before he could decide what to do. The Slytherins still weren't very happy with him since he had missed the Snitch by so little.

He launched into the air and did his best to avoid the bludgers that his Captain had set loose, while still pondering his predicament as much as he could safely allow himself to.

During practice, his mind kept racing back to wondering what Granger was reading at that second. Had she figured it out yet? Had she guessed who was behind it all? Had she told a Professor?

His fears only got wilder during the next hour as he distractedly followed through with his practice routine. It eventually got to the point where he couldn't pay attention anymore. He had to get to the library.

His team had divided into two and was playing a miniature match that would last until Draco caught the Snitch. Well, they would just have to do without a seeker for a while. He left the pitch as non-conspicuously as possible, though he was sure that he heard someone calling his name far behind him as he ran for the school.

Reviews are greatly appreciated. I easily have half of this story left to write, so I still need as much encouragement as I can get. Thanks so much to Evenstar606 and Wondering What Breakfast Is (Julia) for the faithful reviews from beginning to end. And to Bad Mum for her recent reviews on both of my stories. It really does help me so much. :) I love to write, but unfortunately I am very frequently caught with the dastardly illness commonly known as Writers Block. Urgh... The only cure I know of for this particular disease is (bum ba dum) REVIEWS!!!