Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Broomsticks and Animagi

As luck would have it, the third-year transfiguration curriculum covers animagi theory. I nearly jumped out of my skin with excitement when McGonagall informed us of the first unit of the year. "Now that we have completed revising last year's content and the summer homework, I can introduce a new topic". She walked the length of the room to where the blackboard sits near a window. "This term we will be spending a lot of time discussing the theory behind human transfiguration. Now, the application of human transfiguration is highly advanced magic, so you will not be taught any spells unless you make it to NEWT level transfiguration." A series of groans echoed throughout the class. There's nothing worse than going to magic school and only learning theory. However, McGonagall quickly silences the class with one stern look. "It is important", she goes on to say. "To know the theory behind human transfiguration as you will be required to write an essay and give a small presentation near the end of term about the differences between human transfiguration and animagi. Which we will also be studying this term". My fellow triplets and I all shared looks. Of all the dumb luck. Not that I am complaining. But seriously, it's like we were meant to expose Pettigrew. Though, in a way, it does make sense. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in their third year when Pettigrew was originally exposed. Fred, George, and I are currently in our third year. So, I guess the curriculum would be generally the same. "As this is an assignment set up to last all term, you may work in groups between two to four people. But be aware, that groups of four will be required to turn in a four-foot essay, while the two people groups will only have to write a two-foot essay, and the three people groups, a three-foot essay." Everyone started to look around the room, trying to choose their groups then and there. Lee was currently trying to make eye contact with Fred. Angelina and Alicia turned around at their desk; sending me an inquiring look. I slowly shook my head, gesturing subtly to George sitting on my right. It seems we are being presented with a golden opportunity. "We will go over possible topics today, and at the end of class you'll form your groups and pick a topic". It's just getting better and better. "Now, to start. Can anyone tell me what human transfiguration is?"

However, no one got the chance to answer. A girl on the Ravenclaw side of the classroom stood up and pointed hurriedly to the window near the blackboard. "Professor!" She said voice tinged with alarm.

McGonagall turned around in time to see a little black blob on a broomstick speeding straight for the very same window we were all looking out of. The closer and closer the figure became, the clearer it was to see that it was a boy on the broomstick. The boy had his hand stretched out in front of him as he lay, hunched over the top of the broom as if he was trying to catch something. McGonagall stepped back and withdrew her wand from somewhere in her robes' pocket. She raised it but didn't seem to know what to do. Does she save the boy before he flies through a window? Or does she save her class from being pelted with shards of glass? To be fair, it is a rather small window. It would be better to save the boy. I'm not entirely sure he could fit through the window. But it turns out that McGonagall doesn't have to do anything. At the last possible second, the boy catches whatever he was reaching for, and turns his broom. Only then do I recognize who the boy is. "Wasn't that Potter?" Angelina asked from the row in front of me.

Angelina's question seemed to snap McGonagall out of whatever daze she was in. She turns to face us. "Read the chapter on human transfiguration in your books!" She ordered as she started to hurry down the aisle of desks. "And everyone better be in their seats when I get back!" And then she went out the door.

A brief moment of silence filled the transfiguration classroom as everyone processed what just happened. I mean, it's not every day a teacher just runs out in the middle of class. But then books are instantly discarded as people turn in their seats to talk to their neighbors. I leaned back ever so slightly so I could see Fred and George at the same time. "Was that-" Fred started to say.

"Ron's flying class?" George finished the question.

"Yup," I said. Looks like Gryffindor house was about to get their new seeker.

"So," Lee broke in after a bit of time had passed. McGonagall still hadn't returned. She had probably just now made it down to the pitch. If memory serves, she'll go to Quirrell's class to make an introduction between Harry and Wood before coming back here. Lee leans around Fred so that he can also see me and George. "Do you guys want to work together on this transfiguration project?" He asked.

Fred and George give me considering looks. They would love to work with Lee. I would prefer not to. And my fellow triplets and I do have a hidden agenda for this assignment. Even if we haven't discussed it yet. But, I think as I eye Fred and George. Their considering look was slowly turning into puppy eyes. It wouldn't hurt to have a fourth member who was completely unaware of our hidden plans. "Alright", I said, leaning forward to see around Fred. "We can be a group of four. But I get to pick the topic".

Lee beams. "I knew you'd warm up to me eventually". My face freezes as I instantly regret my decision. "I'm picturing it now. Late nights in the library. You'll fall asleep with your head on my shoulder. So, you can choose anything you want, my lady". He said, trying to sound suave as he did that stupid thing with his eyebrows again. I bite my tongue. One good stinging hex would teach him that he is barking up the wrong tree.

Fred places an arm around my waist, and George swings his arm over my shoulders. Seems they didn't like that comment either. "Our lady," George corrected.

"Who's not going to date, anyone". Fred said.

"Ever" George concluded.

I shake off my brothers' arms. "I will date anyone I want whenever I want. But!" I exclaimed, holding up one finger to make it clear that I was about to make a point. "I will not date my brothers' best friend. Especially my brother's friend who was flirting with a Hufflepuff fourth-year yesterday". I finished my declaration with a firm nod of my head.

The boys scoffed in response. All three of them. These gits. By the time McGonagall gets back, very few people are still in their original seats. But she seems to be in a good mood that's preventing her from being too cross. Though points are taken away from both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw house. There's not enough time left in class to formally form groups and pick a topic. So, class ended with the promise that that is where we will pick up next class.

Lunchtime brought us a new challenge; a new fork in the road. And it came in the form of Draco Malfoy. Sitting at Gryffindor table, Fred, George, and I stuffed ourselves with fish and chips. We were having plenty of luck getting whole platters full of food to ourselves at mealtimes. I think it has something to do with our choice of headwear. I still hate that there's a pink deerstalker sitting on top of my head. But the rules were clear. We needed to be wearing our hats whenever we were outside of the common room. Just in case we ran into Quirrell and his guest. But recently I observed there have been fewer people who wanted to associate with us at mealtimes. Meaning, there's just more food for us.

I had looked up to ask Fred to pass the tomato sauce when I saw the blonde Slytherin with his two goons standing over our little brother and Harry. Seems I had forgotten someone once again. "Fred, Fred, Fred," I said very quickly as I grabbed the sleeve of Fred's robe and tugged; trusting that this would also draw George's attention.

After swallowing a rather large bite of battered fried fish, Fred turns to me. "Merlin, woman. No one needs tomato sauce that badly".

"No, look," I said, tugging on his arms again and pointing further down the opposite side of the table where Ron is.

Fred nudges Georges. "Why is Malfoy talking to Ron and Harry?" He asked.

"I think I forgot something again," I said, as the three of us watched a conversation between the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivals take place. "Something that we're going to have to make a decision about really fast".

"What?" They asked together.

The only problem is, I have to remember exactly what happens. "Harry just got admitted to the Gryffindor quidditch team," I said, starting to recall. "Even though first-years aren't even allowed broomsticks. Malfoy isn't happy about that. So, he says something to Harry. He'll goad Harry and Ron into sneaking out of the tower after curfew. Tonight, I think. But it might happen tomorrow." Fred and George nod to show that they are following. "But it's a trick. Somehow it's a trick. I just… can't remember how. Ron and Harry fall for it. Hermione will try to stop them but will end up going with them. Somehow they wind up on the third-floor corridor, and they'll meet the three-headed dog". I finished.

Fred nods, fish and chips abandoned. "So, we can go up to the firsties now and stop this. Or we can stop Ron and Harry from leaving the tower".

George leans around Fred. "Holly, does anything important happen by Harry and Ron breaking curfew?"

"Umm," I said as I tried to think. Judging by the vibrant state of the tips of Ron's ears, their conversation with Draco will be over soon. This is too much pressure! "Well for one, they discover the three-headed dog. Which will eventually lead them to talk to Hagrid about it, and then they'll learn how to put the dog to sleep. And it's another interaction with Hermione. But I don't know if it is important for the three of them to become friends".

I look away from the first years to get my brothers' opinions. Both of them are chewing on their bottom lips as they mull over the information. Much too slowly for my liking. "Do they get hurt?" Fred asked.

I shake my head. "Just rattles them a bit. They won't even get caught out after hours".

Fred and George look at each other and have a silent conversation that I can't follow. Before they both shrug and turn back to me. "Do nothing". They said, going back to their food.

"Do nothing?" I asked.

"Yeah," George said around a mouthful of chips. "You said no one gets hurt".

"And we need Harry to know about the dog," Fred said, as he placed the tomato sauce bottle in front of me.

"But what if something different happens? What if the dog manages to attack them? What if Ron gets mauled?" I said. I can't let Ron get hurt. Especially not by a three-headed dog that could potentially scar him for life. Literally and figuratively speaking. The boy is already afraid of spiders. We don't need to throw dogs into the mix as well.

Fred and George groaned, and both of them threw their heads back to look up towards the ceiling as if they were asking for patience. Meanwhile, their red and blue hats stayed perfectly in place. "Blimey, Holls" Fred complained.

"You're starting to sound like Mum". George said.

I'm taken back. There's no way that I sound like a middle-aged witch. "I do not!" I said, right as Malfoy and his goons walked away.

My indignation is ignored. "We can't fight Ron's battles for him", said Fred before he took a bite of fish.

I looked towards George, knowing that the next line would come from him. But I have to wait for him to finish chewing and swallowing before he said, "Or he'll never toughen up".

"We're doing him a kindness," both boys said.

I stare at my fellow triplets in disbelief as George adds more chips to his plate, and Fred takes a swig of pumpkin juice. "It's a kindness to knowingly allow our little brother to stumble across an aggressive three-headed dog?" My eyes widen marginally at the thought.

However, Fred and George are completely unaffected by the urgency I am trying to instill in them. "Yes," they said promptly.

At my less than pleased and slightly terrified look, Fred rolls his eyes. "It'll be fine, Holls. You can't keep molly-coddling Ron forever".

I don't molly-coddle Ron. I want to argue. But George breaks in before I can. "Stay in our dorm tonight".

"We'll watch them on the map," Fred whispered.

"Make sure they make it back to Gryffindor Tower" George finished. Unhappy, but placated I agree with a hesitant nod. They better be right. I thought as I reached for the tomato sauce Fred had placed in front of me moments before. Ron better be alright. "Hey," George said, introducing a new topic after a couple of minutes. "Do you think the phrase 'molly-coddling' was named after Mum?"

Donned in my comfiest pajamas, I climbed the stairs to the boys' dorms at ten o'clock. My pajamas aren't anything special. Actually, they aren't even pajamas. The top is an old weird sisters t-shirt I nicked from Bill when it got too small for him, and the bottoms are a pair of loosely fitted sweats that actually belong to Percy. Who, as far as I am aware, doesn't know that I have them. Though, I left the pink hat in my dorm. The common room is mostly empty when I pass through it. The few stragglers are some fifth and seventh years, panicked about their OWL and NEWT years. None of them take notice as I slip up the set of stairs girls aren't supposed to go up.

With a lot less precaution than I probably should have, I enter Fred and George's dorm. From the looks of it, Lee had already gone to sleep. And the two non-important roommates in Fred and George's dorm were slowly getting ready for bed. "Merlin!" One of the no-name boys exclaimed as he clutched his shirt to his bare chest. I don't linger. I'm not here for that, and it's not like there's anything to see anyway. I head straight for Fred's bed, who has already made room for me. "What are you doing here?" the no-name boy asked, sounding a bit flustered.

"Nightmares" I threw over my shoulder as I sat down on the bed with Fred; our backs resting against the headrest. George does the same at the foot of Fred's bed. He has the map, currently resembling a blank bit of parchment in his left hand.

No-name boy sputters. He is, of course, used to finding me in his dorm after I've had one of my murder dreams. But that usually happens later in the night or extremely early in the morning. Not right when everyone is heading off to bed. "You couldn't have had nightmares. None of us have gone to sleep yet". Oh, how very logical of him.

George reaches over to grip the curtains around Fred's four-poster bed. While Fred said a bit forcibly. "She has nightmares!". And then George pulls the curtains shut, blocking out the affronted face of one of their no-name roommates. One silencing charm on the curtains, and one 'I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good' later and we're in business.

"They're still in their dorms", George said as he laid the map in the middle of the bed. He pointed to the first-year girls' dorm, where we could see Hermione's name. And then over to the boys' dorms where we found Harry's and Ron's names.

"Wait," Fred said. He leans forward to point out a fourth name that is also of interest to us. Almost overlapping Ron's dot is another that reads 'Peter Pettigrew'. "How have we not noticed that before?"

I shrug. When we got the map back in our first year it was one of the first things I looked at. The little dot that represented the fact the Pettigrew was living in Percy's pockets. But that was before I decided to let Fred and George in on everything. So, with great difficulty, I had decided to keep my mouth shut. George studies the little dots very closely. "Merlin!" He said after a moment. "I think Ron has Scabbers in his bed. Our little brother is sleeping with a murderer in his bed!"

Fred bumps me with his shoulder. "Suddenly, facing a three-headed dog does seem all that bad, does it?" He is dutifully ignored.

"They probably won't leave until around midnight," I said. Everyone should have retired to their beds at that point. So, that's when it would be easiest for the three first-years to sneak out. But then, what should we do for the next two hours….

"It was a dark and stormy night," I said in a low voice.

Fred rolls his eyes. "Holls, you don't have to start every story with, 'it was a dark and stormy night'".

"Do try to be a bit more original", George added his input.

I frown at them. Way to break the atmosphere guys. "I'm telling the story, and I'll tell it any way I want". When I did not get any more complaints I continued. "Becky was home alone with her dog. It was late, so she decided to go to bed and her dog went with her".

"Riveting stuff," George said.

"Shut up," I said. "But Becky would have a hard time falling asleep that night".

"Oh?" Fred asked. "Because it was a dark and stormy night?" As George snickers, I cover my nose with my hands and sigh. If they were just going to make fun of it, why did they suggest telling scary stories in the first place? After George is done laughing, Fred waves a hand at me. "Please go on. I'm dying to know what happens next".

"Because throughout the night she kept hearing strange sounds. Footsteps that shouldn't be there, and the sound of dripping coming from her en suite bathroom. But she was reassured whenever she lowered her hand to the underside of her bed. Because that is where her dog liked to sleep. And he would lick her hand. Surely, Becky was safe as long as she had her dog looking out for her".

"I bet she wasn't safe," George said. "What was it?" He asked. "A poltergeist? Burglar? Maybe an ex-boyfriend?"

I make the choice to just keep going. "Dozing on and off, listening to these frightening sounds, Becky makes it through the night".

"Jolly Holly, I don't think you understand how a scary story is supposed to work," Fred said. "The main character never makes it through the night. If they survive then it isn't that scary. Shouldn't someone who was killed in their past life know that?"

I jab Fred in the ribs with my elbow. "But, she can't find her dog anywhere. She calls his name, but he never comes. Concerned, she heads for her bathroom. Maybe Becky would take a shower before setting off to find her missing dog. But when she turned on the bathroom light, she saw a gruesome sight".

"No!" George mocked exclaimed.

"Yes!" I replied. "Her dog was dead in her bathtub, having been stabbed multiple times. And on the tile written in her dog's blood was this sentence, 'Humans can lick too'. So, the question remains, what, or rather, who was licking Becky's hand all night?"

My brothers stare at me, their eyes having grown comically big at the part about licking humans. But it doesn't take them long to recover and soon they are laughing aloud. If it wasn't for the silencing charm on Fred's curtains, their roommates would be most displeased. "That was disgusting," George said.

"Absolutely horrid," Fred added.

"Jolly Holly strikes again" George exclaimed.

"You should write it down and sell it to the daily prophet". Fred said none too seriously. "I bet they'd love it".

I roll my eyes. Leave it to these two to not be scared at all. "I can't sell it. I didn't make it up. It's something called an urban legend. Something I remember from Jessie's life".

"Merlin," George said as he and Fred quieted down. "Muggles sure are morbid".

We don't get the chance to tell another story, because movement on the Marauder's map catches our attention. "There goes Harry and Ron," I said as we watched their dots enter the common room.

"And Granger is already waiting for them". Fred noted. With our heads bent together, the three of us track the first adventure of the golden trio. For some reason, the three of them head to the trophy room. But once there they quickly have to run away from a fast-approaching Mrs. Norris and Filch. Focused on not getting caught rather than on where they are going, the three- first years end up at the third-floor corridor. Where the three of us see a new name on the map.

"Fluffy?" George reads. "Is the three-headed dog called Fluffy?"

I nod my head, too focused on the three dots of the first-years running for their lives to actually comment.

George shakes his head. "Hagrid has issues".

We continue to stare at the map until Ron, Harry, and Hermione are back in the common room once more; safe.

"See Holls", said Fred.

At the same time as George tapped the map with his wand and said, "mischief managed".

"Nothing happened. Just as you said. So, let's go to sleep and not worry about ickle Ronniekins anymore".