Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Spoons

Everything came out the next morning. Literally. Early in the morning to be exact. Before any healthy person was awake. I hadn't left Fred and George's dorm. Ron and friends did; shuffled out by my fellow trips while they made the second years promise not to do anything or tell anyone unless we told them to. But it was unclear if making the golden trio promise was good enough.

I'm not sure how it happened. But I ended up in a pair of George's sleep clothes, cocooned in Fred's blankets on his bed. Fred and George moved quietly; getting ready themselves. They took turns going to the bathroom to brush their teeth; never leaving me alone for a moment. They whispered quiet words to each other as they changed clothes; too quiet for me to hear. A joint levitation spell made it easy when they decided to move George's bed next to Fred's. And then, even though it was too early to turn in, Fred and George laid down on either side of me and drew the curtains. There were no complaints about how I was hogging most of the covers. There was no digging for more information. No attempt at offering verbal reassurances. Instead, they were just there. Guarding my sides and practicing vigilance.

I'm not sure when it happened. But after I could breathe again without fighting against a strain, I found sleep. It wasn't a good type of sleep. It was the type where you restlessly walk the edge between consciousness and slumber. Any small sound would pull me back to my current reality. It happened when Lee came in. And with the other two no-name roommates, grumbling under their breaths about why the Weasley triplets were so weird. But it never took much to pull me back under. Sometimes it was the consistent sound of George inhaling and exhaling. Other times it was the feeling of Fred's hand on my hip; keeping me grounded. However; the sleep state wasn't better. Waiting for me were horrors of memories clashing with imagination…

My back pressed against the cold dirt floor. A person sat on top of me, pinning me down with a knee on either side of me. I screamed and cried. "No, stop! Please! It's not too late! Please, someone, help me!" But no one heard. No one came. The only thing I could focus on was the gleam of a knife's blade looming over me. It was the same memory. The same nightmare as always. The stabbing would happen next. I'd gurgle and choke on my own blood. What was about to happen was inevitable. All I would focus on until I could claw my way back to consciousness would be knives and blood. Except this time there were changes. Changes that made this less of a memory and more of a nightmare. It wasn't Jessie lying on the ground; begging for her life. And it wasn't her murderer pinning me down. Despite never remembering who it was who killed me, this time I knew the face staring down at me with a twisted expression and psychotic glint in her.

"You can't escape. You can't escape", the loon repeated like a mantra. The knife plunged downwards; jolting my body as it got buried up to its hilt in my being; somehow avoiding any bone. "You can't escape". Glossy, brown hair swished back and forth from my attacker's head as she pulled the knife out and repeated her actions. There was nothing I could do. "You can't escape. You're not better than me. Holly Weasley, you're not better than me!"

Jessie was on top of me. She held the knife. I was pinning myself down. I was killing myself. "Sorry", I muttered weakly as a warm gush of blood bubbled out of my mouth and stained my lips. "Sorry, but I have to try. For our sake, please. Let me try".

With a furious scream, Jessie plunged the knife again and again. Each time hurt less and less as things started to fade. The last thing I heard was, "You don't belong there".

Shooting up from the warmth and safety my brothers had wrapped me in, I clamped one hand over my mouth. It was completely dark, providing no idea what time it was, and I didn't care. Somehow, I managed to untangle my legs from the sheets and blankets. Acting on instinct, I scrambled over Fred. Not slowing; even when he mumbled drowsily, "Holly? What's going on?"

As soon as my feet hit the chilled floor of the fourth-year boys' dormitory, I raced for their bathroom. My hand never leaves my mouth. At the nearest toilet, I dropped to my knees. Only then did I uncover my mouth. Gripping the porcelain bowl with both hands, I let out two heaving air bubbles before emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. A pause allowed for two new rounds of inhaling and exhaling; my shoulders rising and falling with the effort. And then, I did it again. Someone said the spell that turned on the lights. But I didn't notice until my hair was being pulled out of the way and held back. Someone else reached around me and flushed. I didn't have to ask who was in the bathroom with me. There were only two people at Hogwarts who would follow me into a boys' bathroom.

I heaved again. But there wasn't anything left to vomit. With shaky breaths, I sat back, away from the toilet, and nodded, signaling I was done. "You haven't thrown up from a nightmare since we were four", Fred said from my left. He was the one who had flushed.

George smoothed down my hair; making sure none of it would end up in my face. "Do you think you need to see Pomfrey?" He asked. "It's about three o'clock in the morning. So, if you need to go to the hospital wing, we should probably get Percy or contact McGonagall to take us".

It's weird. I'm beyond tired and my hands are still a trembling mess, but it was like emptying my guts untied my tongue, and steeled my nerves in the process. That description is missing something, but I don't know how else to describe it. Everything just started coming out. "Riddle thinks I'm a Horcrux like him", I admitted, my voice hoarse. But at least it didn't sound panic-stricken anymore.

Fred and George passed a look over my head before saying together, "come again?"

Reaching up, I massaged my temples. The pressure I was feeling behind my skull was maddening. "In Snape's classroom", I started to explain. "Lockhart… er, Riddle told me he thought I was like him. A Horcrux. I think he got that impression from all the stuff I said; calling him Professor Riddle in class, and saying that I wanted to teach the dark arts". My mouth was dry and tasted awful. But I smacked my lips and kept going. "He's just a memory himself, so he only has the memories of you-know-who up until the diary Horcrux was made. We don't know how much he's learned from inhabiting Lockhart's body or from Lockhart himself. But I don't think he knows about the other Horcruxes. Not who they are or what they are". I stared at the bathroom tile as Fred and George fidgeted next to me. Was that everything that I needed to tell them? "Oh, and he said he can sense other Horcruxes. But not very well, because Lockhart's weak. Whatever he's sensing, I think he's confusing me with Harry, and he didn't seem to know about the third Horcrux in the castle".

The three of us sat on the bathroom floor in silence as everything I said sunk in. It was a lot to think about. These thoughts were ones that could change plans and intentions. "Bloody hell", George groaned. "Jolly Holly, you're… you're an absolute nightmare".

Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself and tilted my head in his direction. "I'm aware", I said softly; visions of Jessie killing Holly flashed before my eyes. "Sorry. I'm trying not to be".

Fred pulled our attention over to him. "The way you just shut down…" He trailed off, shaking his head aggravatingly as he reframed what he wanted to say. "The way you couldn't answer us, we thought he… tried something with you". Fred glanced at the ground; refusing to look at me.

Oh… Well, that helped me understand why he seemed so uncomfortable. "Nothing like that happened", I assured. Even though it had felt similar to that type of advance. Maybe because Riddle was in a Professor's body… It was a feeling to explore at any rate. "But I think Snape got the same impression. It definitely didn't look good".

George sighed heavily before asking the million galleon question. "What do we do now?"

Neither Fred nor I had an answer for him.

I could feel people paying more attention to me than they normally would. And I don't just mean Fred and George. Alicia and Angelina kept glancing at me from the corner of their eyes. Ron and his friends would stare at me from over their breakfast plates when they thought I wasn't looking. Lee, having picked up on the tension us triplets were carrying, studied us intently as he tried to engage us in conversation. And then there was… No, don't think about it.

"Don't look at him", I mumbled a reminder to Fred and George. It was the same reminder I had given many times this morning. "We don't want him to suspect that I told you two about him". That's the last thing we needed; Fred and George being in danger as well.

The morning meal continued on around us as Lee jabbered on about something Filch-related. Fred and George ate their bowls of porridge slowly, their usual gusto absent. But they were doing better than me. I had gone through the process of taking a piece of toast and slathering it with jam. But that's as far as I got. Despite brushing my teeth, my mouth still tasted bile and I couldn't bring myself to eat.

Sighing, I abandoned my toast and picked up a spoon instead. Twirling it around between my fingers, I let my thoughts wander. A stupid mistake. Everything felt uncomfortable. Like I was wearing a pair of shoes that was one size too small. Or like when you have to smile and be polite to a rude person who wasn't worth the dirt beneath your fingernails. I wanted to wash, despite having already done so. I wanted my thoughts to slow down. How the bloody hell did Riddle/Lockhart come to believe I was a Horcrux? It was such an error in thinking, that it feels like it should be impossible. What did that mean? How could we play this to our advantage?

And then there were all the little details that made the experience its own nightmare. How close he had stood. How his voice sounded. How deliberate his actions were… planning on finding me when I was alone. Staring into my bowl of porridge, I regretted the raspberries I had put on top. It had been like that time when… Fervently, I shook my head. No, don't think about that. My hand clamped around the spoon I was holding as if that decided things. "Have you guys heard about spoons?" I asked my brothers and Lee.

The looks Fred and George gave me were slightly befuddled and oozed concern. But before they could add possible head trauma to their lists of things to worry about, Lee calmly looked at me from over his bowl of porridge. "No, I've never heard of this wondrous new invention called a spoon. Please, do tell. What is this spoon?" After finishing his question, Lee slowly slurped a mouthful of porridge off his spoon, making sure I both saw it and heard it.

"Haha, no", I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "There is a game called spoons". Actually, I think there are a couple of games called spoons. But explaining that would be off-topic. "Every player has a spoon they have to keep safe. Everyone tries to take his or her spoon, and then when someone loses their spoon they are out of the game. The last person who still has their spoon wins". Fred and George's faces were blank as they listened. The only one who seemed remotely interested was Lee. "We haven't played anything in a while for the Angelina competition", I said lowly, making sure Angelina wouldn't overhear her name. "It could be fun".

Lee finished swallowing his breakfast. "I'm game", he said, staring at the spoon in his hand in a way few people have ever looked at a spoon before. "Are there any other rules?"

But Fred and George weren't so convinced. "I don't know, Holls", George said; his eyebrows slanted in worry. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Now's not really the best time for games", Fred added before I could answer George. It's not like it's a question I can answer in public. Even if I was ready to answer it."We need to figure out what to do about-"

"I want to play", I cut him off. With a tense and forced smile stretched across my face, I added, "Please". Almost pleading. Soon, we were stealing unused spoons from around the table. Since I hadn't used my spoon, I didn't have to look very far. The rules we decided to use in our game were few and simple.

Rule one; We had to steal someone's spoon by grabbing it. No summoning spells.

Rule two; transfiguring the spoon to hide or disguise it was not allowed.

Rule three; any magic that made it impossible for someone to steal it was not allowed.

Rule four; everything else was fair game.

For the first time since this arrangement started, I was uncomfortable with sitting in the front row in Snape's classroom. Having just been here last night, I was also finding it difficult to concentrate on Snape's lecture about neutralizing poisons. Every few seconds, an insatiable urge had me looking over my shoulder at the door. As if I was waiting for someone to… Throughout the class, I twirled my spoon around in my hand, thinking about how I could steal the spoons belonging to Fred, George, and Lee. It would probably have to be in between classes or during our free time. Snape had already taken house points from the boys when Lee had made a go from Fred and George's spoons. My back had been turned, so I hadn't seen what happened. But I heard the kerfuffle. And judging by Snape's immensely displeased expressions, Lee's tactic lacked any form of classroom etiquette.

It was nice to see Snape acting normally. Even if it wasn't directed at me. After spending most of the instructional time staring off into space and playing with a spoon, it was shocking that Snape made no scathing comment or assigned me detention. I wasn't even trying to pretend that I was taking notes. There was no quill or parchment set out in front of me. The only one being studious at our table was Adrian. Snape barely looked in my direction. And when he did it was like… it was like… What would happen if a teacher confiscated one of our spoons?

We hadn't thought about that scenario when we made the rules. If anyone but the players took a spoon, did that mean we were still out of the game? Or was the player allowed to try to steal their spoon back from a nonplayer? Personally, I would love to see Lee try to steal a spoon from McGonagall. This might be something we'll need to discuss. At lunch, perhaps.

Adrian's been sending me side glances all morning. Sometimes I get the impression he's spending more time looking at me than at his notes. Not that he needs to look at his notes, having already gone through Hogwarts' curriculum once before. Usually, I'd tease him about the attention. I'd comment something that would make his face flush. But today… today, I just wish he'd stop. Everything was fine. It's not like there's anything different about me. I'm just a girl playing a stupid game involving spoons. Nothing… nothing out of the ordinary. It's not like Fred, George, Lee, and I haven't been playing games all year.

At one point, Adrian leaned in closer. Under the table, he placed a hand on my knee. A question was forming on his lips. But at the contact, I jerked away before he could ask anything. Banging my knee caps on the underside of the table in the process. The sound was loud enough that it drew plenty of attention from those sitting around us. "Sorry", I told Adrian before acting like I was redirecting my focus back to Snape. Snape, who was choosing to act like there hadn't been any disturbance at all. He didn't even pause his lecture. That…that was probably more telling than anything else. The grip I had on my spoon was so tight, that the metal was digging into my palm.

When class was over, I was out of my seat with my bag thrown over my shoulder before Adrian could say anything. "See you in History of Magic", I called to him over my shoulder as I made for the door. I was beaten only by Lee, who was already holding the door open.

"I was thinking", Lee said as the door closed behind us and we fell into step. Vaguely, I noted that Fred and George weren't with us. But I'm sure, they'll catch up. "We should team up."

"Team up?" I asked as our classmates started exiting the potions classroom behind us.

"Yeah", Lee confirmed as we reached the base of the stairs. "We'll get George and Fred's spoons first. One of us can be the distraction while the other grabs the spoons. Then it'll just be you and me, going head to head for the title of utensil master". Lee explained with his usual flare as we climbed the stairs.

Lucky for him, today his all-in and overly enthused personality was exactly what I needed. "Alright", I agreed as we made our way over to the grand staircase. "But I want a two-hour grace period. After we get Fred and George's spoons, we're not allowed to go after each other until two hours have passed". That would lessen the chances of any hidden agendas.

Lee nodded his head. "Fair", he said, opening his mouth to say more. But he never got the chance.

"Miss Weasley", a firm and familiar voice interrupted.

Lee and I paused at the base of the stairs and looked up. Standing on one of the steps in with her pointed hat making her look even taller, McGonagall loomed over us. Her face looked thin as she stared at us with an expression usually reserved for when Filch would complain to her about our shenanigans. "It wasn't us", Lee and I said together, reflexively. Quickly, we held our technically stolen spoons behind our backs.

Briefly, McGonagall spared Lee a look that showed him how much she actually believed that statement. But it was only a second before she was focused on me. "Miss Weasley", she repeated as other students walked down and up the stairs; going around McGonagall, Lee, and me with curious looks on their faces. "Please come with me".

Something caused me to take a step back, placing Lee between me and McGonagall. "I'm supposed to help out in Professor Flitwick's class" I informed my head of house.

Expectantly, McGonagall didn't waver. Though her expression did soften. "You have been excused. Please come with me".