"Damn damn damn bloody damn!" Fred shouted as he stomped up to his teammates, throwing his broom down on one of the old, wooden benches. George walked in a few paces after him, his arms crossed. The other member of the team had been sitting around, chatting and strategizing about he game coming up later that evening. It was early morning and Wood had decided it was necessary for the team to get one more practice in before game time.

"What is it this time?" asked Lila, a slightly chubby girl with short, curly brown hair. The team, and in fact everyone in the Gryffindor house, and practically everyone in the whole school was aware of the increasing number of pranks being played on the twins. Over the past week and a half, they were relentless, and it was only growing worse.

The twins weren't sure what to make of what was going on at first, after the kiss. But then, their books turned to jello, their ears grew until they were hanging down to their feet, all of their socks became horribly itchy, and when they started tap dancing for five hours straight before they could finally break the hex on their shoe, they knew something had to be done.

Lookouts were posted, traps were set, but still, they weren't any closer to catching their tormentor, and the pranks were still going on strong.

"Just look at it," Fred said gesturing to his broom. It looked fine from where it was resting on the bench. Lila turned back to Fred, raising her eyebrow curiously, she turned back to the broom, lifting it in her hand. The whole thing went limp as though it were rubber.

"Oh no," groaned Wood. "It's one thing playing pranks on you two, but it is another when you start messing with the welfare of the team."

"Yeah, who cares about us?" George said with a smile, "As long as Gryffindor wins."
"Oh, you two can dish it out but you can't take it," Katie pointed out, laughing over the rubberized broom. "I think the pranks are pretty funny."

"We aren't this bad," denied Fred, "We don't pick on anyone person like we're being picked on. This guy obviously wants a war and I'm just itching to give it to him, we just need to discover who it is first." Fred was pacing the little dugout.

"Yeah, yeah, you need to do that, but you need to get your brooms fixed before the game today," Wood told them.

"We tried," George complained, "But it's going to take us a lot longer to fix them than we have before the game."

Wood made a grunting sound of frustration. "Well, there's no other option, you'll just have to borrow some of the school's brooms."

"It just figures," Fred moaned. While the Weasly twins were used to hand-me-downs, their brooms not being the newest and fastest to start with, they were at least better than the few extra brooms from the seventies that Hogwarts kept in a closet somewhere.

"Come on guys," Harry piped up. "You guys are great beaters. We can still beat Slytherin even if you have to use old brooms," Harry tried to cheer the team up.

"Oh shut it Harry," Fred said grouchily.

Melanie sat by herself in the stands of the Quidditch pitch. All around her students were shouting, standing, clapping, booing, but Melanie only sat and watched. It was the first Quidditch game she had come to since first year. She didn't particularly like sports, and it wasn't like she was interested in supporting her house, so she hadn't really seen any point. Plus, since virtually all Slytherins would attend the games when their house was playing, Melanie enjoyed having the common room to herself.

Today, however, something drew Melanie to the game. As she sat in the corner of the Slytherin stands, staring up at the play, there was no denying what that was. Her eyes were following the action of two players in particular, Fred and George.

Melanie knew the only reason she was there was to see how they had reacted to her prank. Just like the only reason she had been watching them was to gain insight into how to get back at them.

One of them hit the bludger right at Malfoy's head, almost hitting him too if it hadn't been for the Slytherin beater redirecting it at the last second. Bad luck, Melanie thought to herself. A sudden roar came from the Gryffindor team, Angelina Johnson had just scored.

Melanie was too busy watching the twins to notice Harry's nosedive until the announcer excitedly said, "And Harry Potter has just spotted the snitch!" Well, that was that then. Though Melanie hadn't been to a Quidditch match in a while, she knew Harry Potter had never not once caught the snitch, she had heard Malfoy complaining about it enough.

Melanie watched as Harry zoomed throughout the pitch. Though Quidditch was by nature a fast-passed game, Harry was flying faster now than any of the other players had been before, expertly turning and darting, avoiding bludgers from the Slytherin beaters, which were all now aimed at him, though Fred and George were doing their best to deflect them. Malfoy, the Slytherin seeker was flying behind Harry, but Melanie could see there was little hope. She grudgingly had to admit to herself that it was somewhat impressive.

She had been so busy watching Harry that she almost didn't notice the bludger heading straight for one of the twin's head. He apparently didn't notice it either. Melanie almost felt the urge to scream "look out" but knew that was ridiculous, he wouldn't hear her anyway, besides, what did she care?

The twin, from this distance it was impossible for her to even guess which one it was, noticed the bludger at the last second, and he turned his broom to hastily move out its way. The bludger was too close, however, and it hit him right in the back of the head, making Melanie wince. Cheers broke out from the Gryffindor team for their victory, Harry by now having caught the snitch, but quieted down almost immediately as one of the Weasly brothers toppled forward and fell off his broom. The other quickly flew to aid him, but didn't reach him before he landed on the ground.

He was soon surrounded by the Gryffindor team as well as some teachers. Melanie fought back the feeling of guilt that she felt in the pit of her stomach. He still would have gotten hurt even if Melanie hadn't tampered with their brooms. The brooms didn't make that much difference, it was really the flyer. Melanie told herself this, but knew she didn't really have enough experience to know. Melanie hadn't flown since Madame Hooch's class first year, and hadn't enjoyed it even then.

She stood up quickly and quietly slipped down the long flight of spiral stairs and out of the stands before the rest of her housemates.

Melanie trudged down the deserted hall, on her way back to her dorm from the kitchens. She had gone to tell Runubus to hold off on implementing her latest prank. One of the twins, she thought it was Fred, hadn't been at dinner that night. She knew he was in the hospital wing, and she thought it would be in poor taste to carry out a prank while a party was injured.

"Oommph," Melanie let out a little sound as she felt someone walk into her, knocking her backwards onto her butt. Melanie suddenly panicked. She hadn't been as careful as she should have been. The lack of incident in the past week had given her a false sense of security. She hadn't seen anyone on any of her late night excursions, leading her to not pay attention. Stupid.

Melanie looked up to see who had caught her, immediately racking her brain for an excuse as to why she was out of bed. She let out a gasp, blinking she shook her head as though to rid it of the sight.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you there," the redheaded boy looked down at her with equal shock in his eyes.

"Yeah," Melanie accepted his outstretched hand and let him pull her to her feet. This was awkward. What do you say when you suddenly come face to face with the boy that you have been watching and perhaps slightly obsessing over (in a nonromantic way of course) for the past week?

"So, what are you doing out of bed so late at night?"

"I could ask you the same question," Melanie snapped defiantly. He only grinned at her. Why was he being so friendly toward her? Then Melanie realized, she wasn't wearing her school uniform, and therefore wasn't wearing her house colors. He didn't know who she was, that she was in Slytherin.

"I was visiting my brother," he shrugged. Melanie only then realized how weird it was to see him alone.

"Oh yeah, it's weird to see you without your other half," Melanie said before she could think better of it.

"Oh, so you know who I am? Wish I could say the same." And then he winked at her. Melanie's eyes widened. He winked at her? Was he flirting with her? Melanie decided to ignore the last comment.

"No, I don't," she denied, shaking her head, "I don't know which one you are."

He laughed and held out his hand, "George-the better looking twin." Melanie shook his hand. "And you are?"

Melanie didn't know why, but for some reason she felt she should keep it a secret. Which was ridiculous, really. "Melanie," she reluctantly admitted. George smiled at her.

"So what are you doing out of bed?"

"None of your business," Melanie scowled at him, but it must not have been very threatening since he only smiled. Then something occurred to her.

"If you were visiting your brother, then what are you doing down here?" The hospital wing was on the third floor.

George shrugged, "None of your business," but his words were tempered with a goofy smile. Why is he smiling so much? Melanie thought irritably. What a dolt.

"Shh," George said in the next second, even though Melanie hadn't been saying anything. She instantly heard what had caused his command. Footsteps were coming down the hall from the left. By the way the person was dragging his feet, Melanie guessed that it was none other than Filch.

George grabbed her hand and made as thought to tug her down the hall. "No, this way," Melanie whispered urgently, tugging George's hand to the nearest alcove.

"What are you doing, this is a terrible hiding spot," George muttered, noticing that there wasn't much cover.

"Be quiet and bend down," Melanie whispered bossily. Standing that close to George, pressed into a little alcove behind a statue, she finally appreciated how tall he was, at least two heads taller than her-her eye level being somewhere around his chest.

Melanie had pulled out her Overlookme. The chain was pretty long, so she could easily slip it around George's neck when he had finally bent low enough that she could reach over his head. Even so, it brought them much closer together than would be considered appropriate for someone you had just met.

George was looking at her questioningly, but didn't say anything as Filch had just the rounded the corner and could now be seen making his way down the hall. Somewhere during the scuffle, George had put his arm around her waist so as to be more comfortable in the small space. Melanie tried not to think about how good it felt. Their faces were right next to each other. Melanie could hear George breathing.

The pair watched as Filch walked right by, not giving a second glance in their direction. It was like out of a scene of a humorous movie, the bad guy not noticing the painfully obvious hiding right in front of his nose.

Melanie could feel George's fingers move slightly at the small of her back. She was pressed up against his chest, and Melanie was painfully aware of everything that was masculine about him. His height, the hardness of his chest, the strength of his arm around her, his smell.

Melanie tried to keep her face forward, but her eyeballs strained in their sockets to get a glimpse of his face. Finally she turned her neck only slightly, to find that he was looking at her. With the slight turn of her neck, George snapped his head forward again.

Once Filch was out of sight, Melanie and George stayed like they were until they could no longer hear his footsteps, and then continued to not move for a few moments longer than was probably necessary.

Reluctantly, Melanie reached up and pulled the necklace back from around George's neck.

"Well, that was brilliant," George complimented as he dropped his arm from around Melanie's waist and squeezed out of the alcove. Melanie tried not to think about how cold her waist felt where George's arm had been pressed moments before. "What was that?"

"Just and Overlookme," Melanie shrugged, following him out of the alcove.
"Brilliant," he repeated, "I'll have to get one of those, it could really come in handy," George said wistfully, looking down at the charm that was hanging around Melanie's neck. He reached out his hand and lifted it gently into his palm.

"Anyway, I better get back to my dorm," Melanie said awkwardly. She suddenly realized that this was the first normal, friendly conversation she had had with anyone at Hogwarts. It was weird, but at the same time nice.

"I'll walk you back," George offered suddenly.

Melanie didn't want him to see that she was in Slytherin. He probably would stop being so friendly. She shrugged. "You don't have to."

"I don't mind. It would be my pleasure to walk a beautiful girl back to her common room." Okay, there was no mistaking it now, George was definitely flirting with her. She felt like her face was getting warmer. Oh my god, she thought, Am I blushing? Melanie never blushed.

"No really, we should probably just go our separate ways. Less risky, you know," Melanie hedged, taking a step back from him. She turned abruptly and started walking down the hall.

"Hey wait. What house are you in?" George asked. Melanie easily heard him, though she pretended not to. She half expected him to follow her, but when she turned around she realized with relief that he hadn't. Waiting a couple of minutes, she turned around and went the opposite way down the hall, leading her to her common room.