Note: A teensy tiny change: Dandelion "Danny" Greengrass' surname got changed to Meadows. It's a little head canon I have about a big half-blood wizarding family called Meadows. Basically ... whenever I need nice OCs, it'll be a Meadows family memnber XD

Harry had never believed he would meet boys he hated more than Dudley, but that was before he met Ron Weasley and his brothers Fred and George.

The twins were unbearable pests, constantly playing tricks on Harry and his friends or coming up with other nasty ideas. As they were two classes above Harry and the others, the Gryffindor first-years couldn't hold a candle to them and tried to avoid the twins as much as possible.

In first year, the Gryffindors only had to deal with the Slytherins in Potions, so Harry was largely spared from Ron at least. Until the Gryffindors' eyes fell on a notice in the common room and they all groaned. Flying lessons would start on Thursday – together with the Slytherins.

'Typical', said Harry darkly. 'Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Weasley.'

He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

'Y're not gonna make a fool o' yerself, trus' me,' Draco said confidently.

Harry looked at his friend in astonishment. 'How do you know?'

Draco beamed. 'Totally forgot ter tell yeh – my dad went ter school with yours!'

'For real?'

'Yes, really! Well, not fer long, my dad was a seventh-year when yer dad started – but one o' the things he wrote ter me recently was that James Potter played for the Gryffindor Quidditch team! Dad watched some o' the games! James Potter was a Quidditch player! I bet y're really good at flying!' Draco concluded enthusiastically, but Harry didn't quite share his enthusiasm.

'Hmm … But that was my dad – and I'm me – he grew up in a wizarding family and I didn't,' Harry said unsurely.

Pansy, who had overheard the whole conversation, slapped Harry hard on the shoulder. 'Stop hidin' yer light under a bushel all the time! Flying itself is no big deal! I jus' wish we could've strapped the Muggles to a broom back then …'

'Parks, muggles can't fly with brooms. You have to be magical to do that. The brooms just channel the –'

'Gee, Drake! Know that meself! But it would've been fun,' Pansy insisted, grinning mischievously. 'As revenge fer their bikes.'

'Weasley's always talking about how good he is at Quidditch,' Harry pointed out.

Danny Meadows, Gryffindor's Prefect, came over to the three of them and looked at Harry questioningly. ' They are good.'

'How do you know?' Draco asked, puzzled.

Danny looked confused now. 'Because the twins are on the Slytherin team?'

Harry grumbled. 'Eh, not them! I'm talking about Ron!'

'Then don't just keep saying Weasley, there's a whole clan of them …'

'Alright, alright, I got it! Ron, Ron Weasley!'

'Oh, right, him. Dunno, apart from waving his wand around like a fool, I haven't seen him do anything special so far …'

That made everyone giggle and Harry felt a little better.

Still, he couldn't help but think that Ron really liked talking about Quidditch. Firstly, about the Chudley Cannons, apparently his favourite Quidditch team, and the fact that he regularly trained with his brothers in the summer. And then there was the story where he supposedly almost collided with a hang glider. That sounded very much like he could fly and had a lot of practice at it. However, he wasn't the only one who presented himself as a gifted flyer – Seamus Finnigan had apparently spent his entire childhood on a broom, with which he is said to have travelled half of Ireland.

Everyone who came from a wizarding family talked about Quidditch. Apart from Dean, who had grown up in the Muggle world and was a huge football fan, much to Draco's delight. Before Dean knew it, Draco was squeezing him for every last detail about football and writing it all down in letters, which he regularly sent to his father. Draco (or his father) was constantly coming up with new questions, and in each case Dean was consulted, with parchment and quill, to copy everything down immediately. It hadn't escaped Harry's notice that Dean generously avoided Draco when he didn't feel like it ('I have to go to the library now.' 'I think I forgot something in the Great Hall.' 'Hey, Seamus! Let's check today's homework, shall we?'). Draco was only disappointed that there were no magical posters and photos of Dean's football team. When Dean caught him trying to breathe magic into the poster, there was trouble in football paradise. Dean was worried that Draco might damage it.

On Thursday morning, Theodore suddenly sat with Draco and Harry at the Gryffindor table, a little grumpy and exasperated.

'You here, Theo?' asked Draco, who was overjoyed to have found a perfectly baked waffle.

Theo nodded. 'Granger's dying of anxiety over the flying lessons we have coming up.'

'Why is that?' asked Harry.

Theo rolled his eyes. 'Because you obviously can't learn to fly by memorising a book about it. Not that she wouldn't try – why d'you think I'm here! She's always giving tips on flying from that stupid book Quidditch Through the Ages. Everyone's losing it – well, except Neville Longbottom. I'm sitting with you because I can't take it anymore and Longbottom's sitting with Granger instead of at the Hufflepuff table, hoping that her tips will prevent him from kicking the bucket during flying lessons. We're with the Hufflepuffs, fortunately. I'd be in a really bad mood if I had to deal with the Slytherins.'

Harry, Draco and Pansy gave Theo a sour look. Theo grinned mischievously at them.

Ron Weasley, his twin brothers and Blaise 'accidentally' strolled past the Gryffindor table. Ron spotted Harry and walked over to him with a sneer.

'What shall we bet you've never seen a racing broom before, Potter?' asked Ron casually, his brothers sniggering.

Harry could reply that he had indeed seen brooms in Diagon Alley, but somehow that sounded stupid, so he preferred to keep it to himself.

'Don't worry 'bout falling off your broom,' Ron said, seeing Professor McGonagall coming towards them and lowering his voice. 'I'm sure your fan club will catch you.'

'Get lost, Weasley!' Pansy snarled, waving her fork around. Everyone backed away with a yelp, no one wanted to get her cutlery in their eyes, and she was scattering her pancake everywhere. Draco threw up his arms, wailing, he now had batter in his hair – and it wasn't perfectly baked. Theo got up in a hurry and scurried back to the Ravenclaw table.

'Which Weasley do you mean, Parks?' asked Fred.

'Er, all of yeh! Jus' get lost already, all of yeh! An' don' call me Parks! Only Drake's allowed ter do that!'

'My name's actually Blaise, just sayin' …'

'I don' care what yer name is!'

'Drake, tell Parks to stop waving her fork like a mountain troll. She'll poke Potter's eye out. Not that we mind,' whispered George, who was obviously enjoying teasing the two of them with their pet names.

Pansy made a move to ram her fork into George's face.

'Mr Weasley, Mr Zabini, is there a problem? Miss Parkinson, put your fork down, what are you doing!' said Professor McGonagall crisply when she reached the Gryffindor table.

'Which Weasley do you mean, Professor …?'

Professor McGonagall looked at Fred as if she would instantly turn him into a random object. This had probably not escaped George's notice either, who tugged Fred by the sleeve and hastily left with his brother.

'Just having a chat,' Ron grumbled evasively.

'A very nice chat, if I dare say so,' Blaise added smarmily, giving Harry and his friends a smug smile.

The two followed Ron's brothers back to the Slytherin table, where Percy was clamouring to know what had happened. But apart from stupid answers from Fred and George, he couldn't get anything out of the four of them.

When the Gryffindors arrived on the pitch near the Forbidden Forest for flying lessons, the Slytherins were already there. Brooms lay side by side in a row on the lawn. It was a sunny, breezy day and the grass rippled gently in the wind. A beautiful day for flying, Draco and Pansy agreed. Harry didn't agree it was a good day until he hadn't fallen off his broom, as Ron had foretold.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch arrived. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

'Well, what are you all waiting for?' she barked. 'Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up. Stick your right hand over your broom and say, 'Up!''

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Draco's broom had also obeyed him immediately, but Pansy's was a different story. Somehow, it always gave up halfway and plopped to the ground lazily.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Draco's face turned scarlet when Madam Hooch told him that he had been doing it wrong for years. Ron and Blaise sniggered spitefully behind her back.

'Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,' she said. 'Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three – two –'

But before she could say 'one', Pansy had already shot into the air like a cork. She couldn't wait, and now she flew several feet into the air at lightning speed.

While Madam Hooch shouted after her to come back down, all the other students had already taken to the skies too – it was absolute chaos in no time at all. Ron, Blaise and the other Slytherins came up with the idea of knocking the Gryffindors off their brooms.

Pansy wailed that the school broom was funny, rose higher and higher into the air and slowly drifted off towards the Forbidden Forest.

Harry, who at this point was one of the few people still on the ground (apart from the students being knocked off their brooms, joining Harry by hiting the ground), watched her with growing concern.

'Draco! We have to help her!' he said nervously to his friend, who was also looking at Pansy with wide eyes.

'But we're supposed to stay on the ground …'

They were the only ones to do so, however; at the moment, everyone was in the air and flying all over the place. The Gryffindors swore revenge and tried to get back at the Slytherins, no one listened to Madam Hooch any more. The flying teacher whistled madly into her whistle, but to no avail, while Parvati Patil, who had been kicked off her broom by Slytherin Tracy Davis, fell to the ground next to her. Madam Hooch didn't even notice that Pansy kept drifting off.

'Oh, bugger! Come on, Draco!' Harry pushed himself off the ground and shot into the air.

Despite his concern for Pansy and concern for himself for also disobeying Madam Hooch's rule, Harry couldn't help but realise that flying was simply wonderful. Flying was something he felt immediately that no one had to teach him.

'I told you, you'd be great at flying!' Draco called after him, following close behind.

Harry replied: 'I don't know, I just feel what I have to do!' He couldn't help but grin, it felt so good.

Pansy was at the edge of the forest, a good sixty feet above the air, hanging from her broom and quite green in the face.

'Draco! Harry! Help me off this devil's thing!' she screamed desperately as the broom began to buck.

Harry steered confidently towards her and when he reached her, he grabbed her shoulder to stabilise her. Draco did the same on the other side.

'The broom's broken, I swear! Oh no!'

Oh no was pretty accurate. Ron had spotted Pansy and flew curiously closer.

'Please not him! He'll push Pansy off her broom!' cursed Draco and, together with Harry, they hurried to manoeuvre their friend to the ground, which was not so easy with a broom that had a strange life of its own.

When Ron arrived below them and started to rise, something fell out of Pansy's robe – it was small, round and sparkled in the sun.

'My Remembrall!' she cried out in horror, trying to reach for it, but the little ball slipped through her fingers. 'No! Me gran gave it ter me jus' before she died!'

The Remembrall plummeted downwards – BONK – straight into Ron's dumbfounded face. He howled in pain, grabbed the Remembrall and angrily flung it away with all his might. The small, round ball sailed high, high into the air.

Pansy howled in despair, Harry didn't give it a second thought, let go of Pansy and shot after the Remembrall.

The wind howled in his ears, mingling with the chaotic shouting of his classmates and Ron's laughter. Harry just knew what to do. He tilted the broomstick, sped up, his eyes fixed on the ball, which was now falling back towards the ground. He stretched out his hand, tilted the broom further towards downwards and his fingers closed tightly around the Remembrall, just a foot above the grass. Harry pulled the broomstick up again to avoid hitting the pitch and landed softly on the grass.

'HARRY POTTER!'

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling. Draco landed next to him with Pansy, she plopped exhausted onto her bum – her broom shot off the moment she let go of it.

Silence had fallen around them, all the students had also landed. Madam Hooch looked like she was about to explode with rage.

'Detention! Every single one of you! Everyone!' she barked in a trembling voice, the students bowed their heads in silence.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had reached Harry.

'Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –' She was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously '– how dare you – might have broken your neck –'

'But we had to help Pansy, Professor!'

'Be quiet, Mr Malfoy –'

'But Weasley –'

'That's enough, Miss Parkinson. Potter, follow me, now.'

Harry caught sight of Ron and the other Slytherin's triumphant faces as he left. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up.

He hadn't even lasted two weeks. He'd be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep?

While the two of them hurried through the castle, Professor McGonagall still didn't say a word to him. Harry's thoughts wandered to Hagrid, who had also been expelled from the school. Perhaps Harry would be allowed to stay here as his assistant?

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

'Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?'

Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

'Follow me, you two', said Professor McGonagall, Wood looking curiously at Harry.

She led the two of them into an empty classroom, closed the door and turned to face them.

'Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I've found you a Seeker.'

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

'Are you serious, Professor?'

'Absolutely,' said Professor McGonagall crisply. 'The boy's a natural. I've never seen anyhting like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?'

Harry nodded silently. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to be being expelled.

'He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive. Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it.'

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

'Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?' he asked excitetly.

'Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team,' Professor McGonagall explained.

'He's just the build for a Seeker, too,' said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. 'Light – speedy – we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor – a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say.'

'I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks …'

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry. 'I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you.'

Then she suddenly smiled.

'Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself.'

'You're joking.'

It was dinner, Harry had just told Draco and Pansy what had happened after Professor McGonagall had taken him with her. Draco was so distracted by the story that he still ate his 'not perfectly cooked' steak, more or less, if the fork didn't miss its target.

'Seeker?' he said. 'But firs'-years aren' allowed ter – yeh mus' be the youngest house player in abou' –'

'– a century', said Harry, shovelling food into his mouth. 'Wood told me.'

Draco banged his fist on the table. 'Damn it! I wan'ed ter be Seeker fer Gryffindor! Bloody hell! Er, no offence, I'm really glad yeh got the position! Ye've earned it!'

'Absolutely! I mean, sure, I was half puking on the broom, but even I could see that was a hell of a catch!' Pansy chimed in enthusiastically.

'My training starts next week,' Harry continued. 'But don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.'

Fred and George Weasley strolled into the hall, their brother Ron in tow, looked around and spotted Harry. They made sure no teachers were around and hurried over to the Gryffindors.

'Well, well, the great Harry Potter is breaking the rules and reaping his reward,' Fred said quietly, scowling at Harry.

'You've become a Seeker, haven't you?' asked George, but it was more of a rhetorical question.

Draco looked at the twins, annoyed but also surprised. 'How comes you two know?'

'We're Quidditch players, we have our ways.

Potter, we're the best beaters Slytherin had in ages,' Fred said, grinning wickedly.

Ron shoved himself between his brothers and hissed. 'Let's see how much you still like playing Quidditch after George gave you a Bludger that sent you to the hospital wing for a week!'

'Just a week? I can do better than that,' George said, chuckling maliciously.

Harry scowled at all three of them, then his eyes fell on Ron. 'Yeah, sure, you only feel big and strong when your brothers have your back, eh?'

Ron's face turned bright red with rage. 'I'll get you down without any help!' he said. 'Tonight. A wizard's duel. Only wands – no contact. What's wrong? Never heard of a wizard's duel, have you?'

Draco stood up and leaned over to Ron. 'Sure thing he has! I'm his second, who's yers?'

Ron turned to the twins.

'It's both of us or none,' Fred said curtly.

Draco growled. 'But he can only have one second, you gobshite!'

Fred's eyes narrowed. 'Watch your mouth, Muggle cuddler!'

'Calm down or McGonagall will come running back to hold her new favourite Seeker's hand,' George muttered, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

Ron snorted. 'Fine, George's my second.'

'I'm just watching then,' said Fred.

'You're identical, not conjoined twins!' grumbled Draco, giving Fred a disdainful look.

'Tonight, midnight, in the trophy room, it's never locked,' Ron announced.

'Ron's mopping the floor with you tonight, Potter,' Fred said, pursing his lips.

'And we'll shatter you on the Quidditch pitch,' George continued, chuckling, and then the three of them went to the Slytherin table, where Blaise was waiting curiously for Ron, who immediately whispered the news quietly to him.

Harry pushed the plate away from him, his appetite gone, a tight knot forming in his stomach.

'Are Fred and George good Beaters?'

'Certainly,' said Danny, who had just passed the three of them and heard Harry's last words. 'Those two are pretty good, frighteningly good Beaters. I wouldn't want to be the one to catch a Bludger from those two. They hit with a lot of vigour – ah, Markus, there you are!' Then he went on to his classmate.

Harry sank down on the bench.

Pansy slapped him so hard on the back that he almost fell to the floor. 'Now, now, don' hang yer head like that! Y're a damn good seeker, fer sure! Ye'll dodge their Bludgers with ease, ye'll see!'

'But,' Harry murmured hesitantly, 'aren't Seekers the ones Beaters target when they can?'

'Well, yes o' course. Y're the most important player,' Draco said soberly. 'You jus' have ter be faster.'

'Thanks, Draco,' Harry said, sighing deeply. He really didn't fancy being hospitalised by Fred and George at his first match. Then he remembered what he just agreed to.

'Erm, Draco?'

'Yeah?'

'What's a wizard's duel? And what's a second?'

'A second takes care of everything when the duellist is killed,' Draco explained casually, realising the imperfection of his steak and scowling. When he noticed Harry's horrified expression, he just snorted and continued, 'Duellists only die in a proper duels! All Ron and you can manage is a shower of sparks. Even Fred and George don't know enough about magic to do any real damage, so Ron's certainly not a threat at all!'

'And what if I can't even manage a shower of sparks?'

'Then throw yer wand away an' beat him up,' Pansy said, shrugging.

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose. He'd got himself into a duel he didn't know how he was going to win and his first Quidditch match was threatening to end in a fractured skull base – marvellous.

The day could have ended so well, but now Harry lay awake in his four-poster bed, listening to Seamus and Dean drift off into the land of dreams. Draco had come up with the glorious idea of quizzing their Prefect Danny on how to do a disarm and shield spell, Danny in turn suspiciously wanted to know what they needed the spells for.

After they had found a plausible excuse, Danny had willingly helped them, but unfortunately the result was not to be seen.

'No worries, Harry. It just takes a bit of practice, and the shield charm you guys won't be taught in years. It's quite normal that you don't get the hang o fit yet.'

'But I'd need the charms pretty soon …' Harry stuttered pale.

Danny laughed. 'And if you practise all night, it's no use, but keep at it, Harry. You can do it! You've got potential, I can see it!'

But with potential, Harry wouldn't be able to block any curses Ron might have up his sleeve … Draco had sheepishly advised him that he should probably duck if a hex came his way.

Apart from that, Harry didn't feel comfortable breaking the next rule that night. There was a good chance they'd get caught by Filch and Gryffindor would lose a massive amount of points. But Ron's sneering face kept haunting Harry's mind, and he liked the thought of his annoying brothers having to watch him beat Ron up.

'Half past eleven, we'd better get going,' Draco whispered.

They got dressed, crept down the spiral staircase and into the common room.

'Yeh didn' think you could leave without me, did yeh?' it whispered softly, Draco and Harry's heart nearly stopped in shock.

'Parks!' hissed Draco. 'You mad lass!'

Pansy grinned like a Cheshire Cat. 'Ron's taking both brothers with him! Harry can have two seconds too, it's on'y fair! I bet they're cheatin', they're Slytherins!' hissed Pansy energetically, scurrying over to the two of them.

'Okay, fine, you can come, too,' Harry decided, and together they slipped out through the hole into the corridor.

'Where was the trophy room again?' asked Harry quietly.

Draco and Pansy shrugged.

'Oh boy …'

'We'll find it,' said Pansy confidently.

The three of them set off quietly, creeping through moonlit corridors and dark stairwells, peering into every room they passed, praying that they wouldn't run into Filch, Mrs Norris, a Prefect or a teacher – until Draco finally got his bearings.

'Tis way!'

'All right, quiet!'

On the third floor, a few minutes before midnight, they finally found what they were looking for. The door was already ajar and Harry, Draco and Pansy slid in and closed it quietly.

'What the hell were you guys doing?' Fred sneered, leaning against a wall.

George snorted contemptuously, his eyes fixed on an old, worn map. 'Have you been sightseeing, or what was that little night walk in the moonlight all about?'

Ron had to try hard to contain his laughter, after all, none of them wanted to get caught.

'How d'you know where we've bin?' asked Pansy, looking at the three Weasleys suspiciously.

George put the map away and winked mischievously at her. 'You wish you knew, didn't you Parks?'

A blush crept into Pansy's face. 'Oh, shut up, Fred!'

'I'm George.'

'Quiet now! The duel!' Ron interrupted them and walked to the centre of the room, his wand already drawn.

Harry swallowed hard, but he couldn't let on. He also drew his wand and walked towards the centre of the room with soft knees.

'Don't forget to bow, Potter,' Ron said.

'I know!'

'Do it then!'

'You go first!'

'Quiet, both of you!' hissed Draco, listening intently.

George dug the map out of his pocket again. 'Oh, oh …'

Fred peeked over his shoulder. 'Ron?'

Ron looked up. 'What?'

'Time to go.'

'Why?'

'Because we said so. Come.'

Ron looked at the two of them angrily. 'Gonna explain it to me?'

Fred took three long strides to his little brother (who was just as tall as the twins), grabbed him by the collar and dragged him behind him. 'If you insist. The explanation is that we're older, so do as we say! Get a move on!'

'Ow, gerroff, you're choking me!"

Harry glanced briefly at Draco and Pansy. If the Weasley brothers suddenly took off, there was probably a good reason, and Harry wasn't willing to find it out.

Without hesitation, he followed the three of them outside, Ron freed himself from Fred's grip and looked spitefully at Harry.

'Get lost, Potter!'

'Shut up, Ron! You'll get us into hot water!' hissed George and hurriedly pushed his brother along the corridor.

Harry stayed on their heels, he didn't care about the duel anymore, now he would rather know why the twins had left the battlefield so hastily when ...

'Sniff, my sweet. I know there are students around here somewhere …' It was Filch and his cat Mrs Norris. They moved into the trophy room at that moment, from which Harry and the others had just fled.

Ron paled noticeably, as did Draco and Pansy. Harry's heart sank once more.

Fred and George moved single-mindedly along the corridor, Ron in tow, who didn't give Harry a second glance. Once again, Harry didn't hesitate to follow the three of them. The twins knew their way around the castle pretty well and couldn't afford to cast a hex on him without getting themselves into trouble. Draco and Pansy followed Harry gingerly.

They had already left two corridors behind them when Draco managed to trip over the shoe of a suit of armour. He grabbed hold of the armour, it rattled menacingly, it tilted – and with a deafening noise, Draco crashed to the floor along with it.

The others looked at him in shock.

'You moron, Malfoy!' Ron wailed and made a dash for it.

'Ron, not that way, what're you doing?' George called after him angrily and ran off with Fred.

Harry and Pansy pulled Draco to his feet as quickly as they could and dragged him along.

'I'm so sorry!'

'Not now!' hissed Harry and ran off blindly, it was utmost important to get away from the scene, it could only be minutes before Filch or someone else turned up to see what had caused the noise.

They tumbled down corridor after corridor, paintings complaining loudly about the nightly disturbance, armour rattling and Harry wouldn't have been surprised if Peeves had found them.

Pansy recognised one of the secret passages, pulled the curtain aside to let them in and …

'Ouch, bloody hell!'

She had run straight into one of the twins. 'What the –! George?!'

'I'm Fred, you –!'

'Quiet, both of you!' Harry hissed angrily, pushing Draco behind the curtain and pulling it shut again.

They stood there silently and listened for several minutes, but there was no sign of Filch or anyone else.

'I think the coast is clear,' muttered Draco.

'Let's naff off, Fred. Malfoy can't walk in a straight line without causing chaos for the life of his.'

Harry looked around the dark, narrow corridor. 'Where's Ron, anyway?'

The twins looked at each other briefly, then shrugged.

'He's a hapless chap.'

'He's your brother!'

'Like we said, he's truly hapless …'

Draco tugged on Harry's sleeve. 'It doesn' matter! Let Slytherin lose points.'

Fred cracked his knuckles. 'You're about to lose something too, Muggle lover.'

'Drake's right, let's go, Harry. Back ter Gryffindor Tower. Ron's their problem.'

Harry nodded, pushed the curtain open and the three of them left the secret passage. George muttered, 'Wish you bad luck, you three,' to them, but Harry paid him no mind.

The way back to the common room wasn't going to be easy. They had barely made it one corridor when one of the doors flew open and Peeves came rushing out. He was followed by none other than Ron Weasley.

'What are you doing here?' moaned the redhead annoyed.

Peeves squealed with delight. 'More ickle firsties!'

'Quiet, Peeves! Please! You're going to get us into big trouble!' pleaded Harry.

'Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty.'

'Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please.'

'Should tell Filch, I should. It's for your own good.'

'Get out of the way,' Ron snapped, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake.

'STUDENTS OUT OF BED!' Peeves bellowed. 'STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!'

All four of them ran for all they were worth to the end of the corridor, but the door there was locked.

'We're done fer! We can' get outta here, they'll catch us!' wailed Draco desperately, rattling the door in vain.

When they heard footsteps behind them, they were sure that it must be Filch.

'You ickle firsties are good for nothing!'

'Fred, George!' shouted Ron, pressing his back against the closed door.

Fred tugged him aside, annoyed. 'Move!' He pointed his wand at the door lock. 'Alohomora!'

The lock clicked and the door swung open – all six of them tried to squeeze through at the same time, then threw the door shut behind them and listened tensely.

'Which way did they go, Peeves?' said Filch. 'Quick, tell me.'

'Say "please."'

Filch and Peeves squabbled, but Peeves didn't tell the grouchy caretaker where Harry and the others had disappeared to and eventually flew off, sniggering. Filch cursed angrily, his footsteps moving away, obviously looking elsewhere for the students.

'Filch thinks the door's locked,' Harry whispered. 'I tink we'll be okay – get off, Draco!' Draco had been tugging on Harry's sleeve for some time.

'What?'

Harry turned around – and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They hadn't barricaded themselves in a room, but in another corridor – the forbidden corridor on the third floor, to be precise. And now all six of them knew why it was forbidden.

They were all looking at a monstrous dog that filled the entire corridor from top to bottom. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes, three snouts quivering in their direction and three drooling mouths with yellowish fangs.

The only reason they hadn't been torn to pieces yet, Harry knew, was that they had taken the dog completely by surprise. But it was quickly getting over it and its low growl told Harry so.

Harry reached for the doorknob – if he had to choose between death and Filch, his choice was Filch. He pulled it open and once again all six of them tried to leave the corridor at the same time, slamming the door shut behind them and running, almost flying, down the corridor.

When they had put some distance between them and the monster dog, they stopped, panting and huffing.

'Dumbledore's a nutjob,' muttered Fred, leaning against a wall, his twin nodding in agreement.

Ron sagged forwards, his hands resting on his knees. 'A lunatic, that old man! Who hides beasts like that in a school? That thing nearly killed us!'

Harry noticed Fred leaning over to George and whispering barely audibly, 'You saw it too?'

'Of course.'

Then Fred turned to Ron. 'Come now! Your midnight duel nearly cost us our necks. Quite an achievement, by the way. The only one who got himself into that kind of trouble was Bill …'

Ron just nodded pale and shuffled off after his brothers, who headed for the dungeons.

Harry, Draco and Pansy hurried to the Gryffindor common room, climbed through the portrait hole and dropped into the armchairs, exhausted and sweaty.

Pansy stretched out her legs with a groan. 'Hate ter say it, but the weasels have a point. Dumbledore is a madlad!'

'Didn't you see it?' Draco said, breathing heavily and looking back and forth between Harry and Pansy.

'Saw what?' Harry asked, confused.

Draco cleared his throat and explained. 'Don't you two have eyes in your head? Didn't you realise what the dog was standing on?'

'On the ground? What do I know, I was distracted by its heads – it had three! In case you hadn't noticed,' grumbled Pansy tiredly.

Harry remembered what Fred had whispered to George. 'I think Draco's right. The twins saw it too.'

The corners of Draco's mouth twitched. 'They're terribly curious, but even those two aren't that crazy and go back in there to check what the dog's guarding.'

Pansy stood up, yawned and stretched. 'Honestly, I don' care. I'm off back ter bed and I'm jus' glad no one caught us and we're all still in one piece.' With those words, she shuffled up the spiral staircase to the girls' dormitories.

Harry and Draco did the same and went to their own dorm. Draco's words continued to haunt Harry's mind as he snuggled into his bed. So the dog was guarding something … What was it Hagrid had said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world to hide something, with one exception – Hogwarts.

It looked as if Harry now knew where the dingy little parcel from dungeon 713 was.

Note: What's the advantage of getting rid of Crabbe and Goyle? That I can work with interesting characters like the twins who actually do something.
What's the disadvantage? I have to make sure we don't lose our focus on Ron as the main antagonist of the three brothers.
I hope you enjoyed my changes and if you are wondering why Ron, Fred and George actually showed up for the duel: I just think Ron would've shown up, that's his character imho.