Numerous amounts of comments were made from George and Ginny throughout your third year. George saying things like; 'How's your girlfriend/boyfriend?' and 'Getting a kiss or two there?' or 'Aww, how sweet!' and sometimes sings the wedding tune to annoy Fred further, it annoyed you too, but you ignored it most of the time. Well, you tried to at least. And Ginny asked you occasionally if you fancied her brother, which you often responded by saying 'Which one?' to annoy her, acting stupid to drop the subject. You didn't of course, Fred was just a good friend. Right? Yes, a friend. What's wrong with having a good friend? Draco is good friends with Blaise but you don't see anyone asking them if their boyfriend is ok, or if they're stealing a kiss or two. Actually, everyone was afraid of them a little; and people knew that they were both straight. It was Crabbe and Goyle people question about.

There was a Quidditch match coming up and it was pouring it down outside, a storm was beginning to brew more and more the later it got. You and Ginny were eating breakfast with your friends in the hall, stuffing yourselves full with all the different choices available.

"Do you think they'll cancel the game?" Asked Ginny after finishing a mouthful of toast. Hermione thought for a brief while and then shrugged.

"Who knows, but I highly doubt it. Oliver is very focused when it comes to Quidditch, and determined might I add."

"It's how we win!" said Oliver a little further down the table, the Scottish boy smiled an excited smile. "Anyway, it'll make the game more interesting. Dodging lightning and manoeuvring in and out of the thundering rain, these games are the best."

"If you love Quidditch so much, why don't you just marry it?" spat Draco Malfoy from the Slytherin table, his gang of friends sniggered at his comment, their mouths full of breakfast. Oliver scowled at his comment, but then grinned at what you said quietly next.

"It would beat marrying him for sure, any day." The groups of Gryffindor's also sniggered but tried to hold in their outbursts of laughter, not wanting to make a scene.

"What's that, Holloway?!" Draco bellowed so that you could hear him, although you could hear him perfectly clear when he spoke normally.

"Who, me?" you asked innocently, pointing to yourself.

"Is there anyone else here called Holloway?" he asked sarcastically, earning him a few more snorts and sniggers from his friends.

"Well, no. But don't worry your little greasy head about it, Malfoy. We were just saying how it would be much nicer to marry Quidditch than to marry someone like you."

"Take that back!" screeched Pansy Parkinson angrily, standing up instantly and knocking over Goyle's drink all over his lap. You thought to yourself sarcastically for a moment, but then tilted your head with a shrug.

"Gee, I would, but that would mean being nice to Malfoy," some Gryffindor's couldn't believe how you were standing up to them, especially the little first years that they picked on. "and also that would mean me saying that he is marriage material."

"He IS," Pansy said proudly, not noticing the cringe on Draco's face. "everything about him id PERFECT. His face, his eyes, his talents, his hair-"

"Yeah, what is up with your hair, Malfoy?" you asked again. Draco's eyes widened, his nostrils flaring from anger.

"Excuse me?!"

"What is up with your hair?" you repeated. "For years one and two you had it slicked back with so much hair product that it just looked plain greasy all the time, and now its kind of... floppy." you said, waving your two fingers above your eyebrows like windscreen wipers on a car. "I mean, what is up with that? It's parting loads in your fringe, practically a curtain parting with loads of tears in it, but with wallpaper paste dripping off of it." The whole Gryffindor table 'ooed' and laughed at your comment, as did other students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Draco turned a deep beet red as his hand trembled up to touch his fringe and the rest of his hair, realising that you were right. He looked like he was actually about to cry, he shot up from his seat and strutted speedily away out of the hall, his hand shielding his hair as he walked. Pansy, being the annoying girl she is, followed him like a sheepdog, whilst Crabbe and Goyle just sat there stuffing their faces.

"Gosh, Fiona." Hermione said with a slight snigger.

"You totally caned him!" Ron said in awe, Harry had the same expression as his best friend.

"Eh, someone had to put him in his place." you said modestly.

"Good one, Fiona." said the twins together as they approached the table and sat down, having watched it from a good view at the open doors and having being shoved out the way by an emotional looking Draco.

"That little git got what he dishes out." said George, shovelling in a mouthful of cereal into his mouth.

"I've got to say love," said Fred as he buttered some toast, already dressed in his Quidditch gear, as were the other Gryffindor's in the Quidditch team. "I didn't know that you had a feisty side." he joked with a wink, taking a bite out of his toast as you smiled modestly with a shrug, feeling your cheeks burn up again, but luckily it went as soon as it came.

"Fred and George, well, mostly Fred," began Oliver as he held a goblet of juice in his hand. "that you have a talent in Quidditch, Fiona." You lowered the fork that had a piece of sausage stuck on it back onto your plate, listening to what Oliver was saying. "Why don't you come to try-outs? I'm sure you're as good as they say you are." You looked over at the twins sat opposite you who lowered their heads as soon as you glanced over at them, pretending that they don't know a thing about this.

I don't know," you said.

"Aw, come one," Oliver said with a smile. "just come along, you never know, you might even make the team." You shook your head.

"No, thanks."

"Why not?" the twins whined together at the same time, looking back up at you with questioning looks. You shrugged.

"I just don't want to at the moment. Ready to go?" you asked Hermione, you both were going to cram in a little studying before the game. She nodded as she finished off her apple juice, standing up as soon as she placed the goblet down.

"Are you coming to the game?" asked Fred hopefully before you left.

"Checking if you're girlfriend is coming to watch you show off, Freddy?" George taunted under his breath, taking a large bite out of his toast when Fred elbowed him in the arm.

"Shut up, George." he whispered from the corner of his mouth, annoyed with his brother's constant comments. You nodded.

"Yeah, I'm coming." you said with a smile and a wave, walking away with Hermione to go study for a little while. Ginny raised her eyebrows t Fred.

"Ron, you coming?" he asked his brother who had a mouthful of food stuffed into his mouth.

"Wh? O, ye-ah." he managed to say between the food, trying to chomp it down before he chokes on it.

About an hour later, everyone was outside in the pouring rain to watch the Quidditch match. Your house was crammed into the stands, their eyes squinting to hope that will give them a better view through the rain that beat against their faces. It was against Hufflepuff today and Gryffindor had the lead, 70 points to 20. You liked the Hufflepuff's, they were good sports, unlike the Slytherin's who were sore losers and often tried to harm the players as they played. You could hardly see the players through this thick rain, but thanks to their scarlet red uniforms and canary yellow uniforms, you were able to see them. They had goggles on to shield their eyes from the thundering rain that constantly flicked into their faces. Even though the rain darkened their hair when wet, you could still see the two red-heads beating the bludgers with all their might. It was easy to tell them apart, even in conditions like this. The twin that was showing off, was Fred. The twins always show off when it comes to their best talents, always wanting to impress and whip the other team down to an utter defeat.

"You alright, Ginny? You look very cold!" you shouted so that your friend beside you could hear over the thunderous rain. She clutched the edge of her hood desperately, trying to shield her from the horrible weather. She squinted her eyes as she twisted her head around to face you.

"What?!"

"Are you alright?" you repeated.

"What?!"

"Are. You. Alright?!" you shouted a little louder.

"Oh, yeah!" she grinned, laughing as she went back to focus on the game.

"How about you, Hermione?!"

"What?! Oh, yes, thank you!" Hermione giggled as she tried to make her voice audible. You gave up with holding on tightly to your hood, finding it pointless that you even tried to keep yourself dry from the rain, so you let go of it and gripped your hands onto the bar in front of you to keep yourself sturdy, so that you wouldn't fall off or fly away even. You could barely see the players now that the storm had gotten worse. All you could see were blurs of hardly-there red and yellow, though it was difficult to tell the two teams apart because they were so drenched. Everyone still kept on cheering though, but were then startled as a huge bolt of lightning crashed through the centre of the Quidditch field, sending a large flash of light to temporally blind the players, causing them to halt right in their tracks and shield their eyes with one soaking wet arm. Suddenly, a bludger came swooping round the pitch freely and smacked right into one of the players, knocking them right off their broomstick from a high distance and splattered right into the thick mud below; luckily, the mud was soft and they didn't die, hopefully. Gasps and a few screams from little first years echoed through the gaps of the rain at the sight of this sudden attack.

"Who was it? Who fell off their broom?!" you demanded, squinting to try and see who that was clutching their arm while unconscious. Every member of the team, including Hufflepuff, were told to return to the ground to prevent anymore accidents from occurring.

"Come on," Hermione shouted. "let's go see who it is!" All three of you, and many other students crowded round the already large circle that formed around the body on the floor. Luckily, the three of you managed to get to a space where you could fully see. But once the player was in view,it came to a shock for all three of you.

"Fred?!" you all said together, a little surprised that he was the one to get knocked off his broom, seeing as he was such a good player.

"All right, back up, back up!" Yelled a teacher, shooing the students away. They began to take Fred away to the hospital wing, accompanied by the whole Gryffindor team and some students who were curious to find out whether he was dead or not.

"George," you yelled, waving over at a slightly shocked brother. "George!" He only noticed your yell once you were only a few feet away from the tall red-head, the two of you completely drenched from head to toe. "George, what happened?"

"Dunno, a bludger saw the advantage and decided to hit the one who hit it last, which was Fred. I think." he shrugged as you both followed the small crowd. Once Fred was placed on a bed in the hospital wing, some students were told to leave. First years repeatedly asked if he was dead or not, receiving some annoyed glares from George which frightened them away.

"Is he dead?" Ron asked, standing next to a very wet Harry.

"No, you nitwit!" tutted George. Just then, a groan sounded from Fred and his eyes began to open groggily.

"Wha... what happened?"

"Got hit by a bludger, brother." said George with a mocking laugh. "Knocked you right in the arm and off your broomstick, right down to the squishy mud." Nearly every player was covered in mud, but Fred's Quidditch uniform was absolutely painted with the stuff, hardly any red was visible.

"Did we lose?" Fred asked as he tried to sit up, but was then told off by Madam Pomfrey and was forced to drink some horrid medicine to repair his injury. "Ugh," he gagged after swallowing the liquid.

"We're currently in the lead," began Oliver, who was stood nearby the bed next to Angelina and Katie. "but the match has been postponed until the storm finishes."

"Will I be able to play-"

"Absolutely not!" scowled Madam Pomfrey as she took back the bottle of medicine. "I'm afraid that you will have to sit this one out, Mr Weasley."

"What?!" shrieked Oliver a little highly, not noticing the few sniggers that came from Ron and Harry. "But he's one of our best players!"

"I'm sorry, Mr Wood, but you'll just have to make do without." she turned round on her feet and walked away, her clicking shoes echoing through the almost empty hospital wing. Oliver groaned.

"Great, just great. We're one beater short, who're we going to replace Fred with?" A few team members shrugged and withdrew their gaze from the angry looking Oliver, a little afraid that he will explode any second now. Fred managed to sit himself up after a few groans and winces, his arm tied up in a slink to keep it a little more comfortable. Everyone fell silent, thinking about what to do until Fred suddenly burst out.

"Fiona!" You jumped a little from the sudden yell of your name. "Would you fill in for me?"

"W-what?!" you stuttered a little, panicked. "Why me?"

"Because," Fred sighed. "I know that you're great at Quidditch, and that you're a good beater. All you need is a couple of days practice and boom, you're fine!" He said hopefully. "Oliver, when is the game going to be?"

"Well, er," Oliver hummed while wiping off a bit of mud off of his chin. "it's been held in a few days or so, when the storm has completely cleared up. So that would be, Tuesday, I think."

"So, how many days practice?"

"I'd say about, two, maybe three."

"Excellent!" said Fred. He then turned his attention back to you, smiling hopefully. "Well? Will you do it?" Everyone's eyes turned to you, staring at you as they waited for an answer. A long pause went by, your mouth unable to form any words.

"Aw, come on Fiona, do it for your boyfriend."

"Shut up, George." Fred said as he punched his brother's arm. He then looked back at you with a small smile. You sighed heavily.

"Ok, fine." Fred smiled gratefully as Oliver nodded.

"Alright then. Fiona, training starts tomorrow at 5:30am."

"5:30?" you gasped in disbelief and groaned a little. You glared at Fred with slightly squinted eyes, he chuckled nervously and smiled a guilty smile, hoping that you wouldn't kill him.