MetaFic

After the Troll Incident, as Harry and Ginny began to call it, Harry noticed a change in Ron.  Ginny explained to Harry that the events at Halloween had changed them all in different ways.  Harry and Ginny had become more protective of each other, avoiding even casual collisions with other students in the hallways.  At Quidditch practice, Harry continued his spectacular dives, but they became almost obsessive about avoiding Bludgers.

The changes in Ginny’s brother, however, were far more pronounced.  Harry turned out to be correct in guessing that Ron would stop calling Hermione names.  He still grumbled about Hermione’s obvious intelligence and dedication to her studies, but his complaints sounded less heartfelt, and he completely avoided saying anything when she was in earshot.  He talked about Quidditch whenever the opportunity presented itself, but he seemed to notice when his friends were bored with the subject and allowed them to steer the conversation in other directions.

Hermione, for her part, became more accepting of Ron.  She listened to what he had to say about Quidditch, and occasionally she employed her phenomenal memory to exchange obscure Quidditch facts with him.  Ginny was convinced that her roommate had spent some of her time in the library reading about Quidditch for exactly that reason.  Hermione’s constant concern for her marks and those of her friends changed tone, as well.  Before, she had missed no opportunity to remind them to study.  Now, although she spent just as much time revising as she ever had, she invited her friends to join her instead of predicting their academic doom if they did not.

Most surprisingly, the vehement arguments between Ron and Hermione had settled into an almost friendly bickering.  They still disagreed about most things, but they avoided discussing any topic they knew was truly important to either one of them.  Privately, Ginny suspected that if her brother and friend were to actually listen to each other about these sensitive topics, they would discover that their respective opinions were not that different.

On the fourth of November, Harry and Ginny found Neville waiting for them outside the castle as they walked to Quidditch practice.

“Something happened, didn’t it?” he asked.  “On Halloween, with you two and Ron and Hermione.”

Ginny and Harry were unwilling to lie to their friend, so Ginny simply nodded.

“Are you all okay?” Neville asked.  She nodded again.  “Ron and Hermione… they’re friends now?”

“We think so,” Ginny said.

Neville nodded.  “That’s good, then.  Maybe you can tell me about it someday.  Best of luck at practice.”  He turned and started back into the castle.  

“Neville, wait,” Ginny called.  He turned back to them, and she spoke more quietly.  “Look, we did something really, really stupid a few days ago.  Some of us got hurt, and if you’d been there, you might have got hurt, too.  We’re glad you weren’t there, and you’re still our friend, same as always.  Alright?”

Neville nodded with a small smile.  “Thanks, Ginny.  I’ll see you two later.”

Eliminating the strain between their two friends was a relief for Harry and Ginny, especially since Quidditch practices were now being held daily in the week between Halloween and the first Quidditch match. Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin, and a win would not only propel Gryffindor forward in the race for the House Cup, but also validate Harry’s position as Seeker to his critics in the other houses.

The first Quidditch match of the season took place on a cool, sunny Saturday in early November.  That morning, Harry and Ginny sat at the table for breakfast and stared at their filled plates.  They were both suffering from Harry’s nerves about the morning’s game and could not bring themselves to eat.

Hermione, sitting on Ginny’s right, leaned over to her friend and whispered, “Ginny, you have to eat, at least.  Otherwise people will notice.”  Reluctantly, Ginny picked up her fork and managed to eat a sausage.  Harry’s stomach roiled at the taste of Ginny’s food, but he gritted his teeth and somehow kept himself from throwing up.

All week long, the Slytherins had been taunting Harry about the upcoming match.  Many of them were content to just sneer at him in the hallways, but a dozen or so students delighted in loudly reciting all of the assorted injuries that the Gryffindor Seeker had suffered in the previous year.  A select few, mostly members of the Slytherin team itself, went so far as to ask Harry if the food served at his funeral would be worth the bother of turning up.

Draco Malfoy, who had appointed himself the leader of Harry’s opposition, entered the hall with his henchmen in tow.  He spoke loudly as he passed behind Harry and his team-mates.  “I heard that they’ve put cushioning charms on the entire Quidditch pitch.  Maybe we’ll get to see Potter bounce when he falls off his broom.”  Crabbe and Goyle laughed obediently as the Slytherins passed out of earshot.

Don’t listen to him, Harry.  We both saw him fly, and you’re much better than he is.  He’s only saying that to make you nervous.

Well, it’s working, he replied.  I’ve never played a real game of Quidditch before.  I’ve never even been to a real game.

At ten thirty, Harry walked down to the Quidditch pitch with Ginny, Hermione, Ron and his team-mates.  The three other first years climbed the stands to get good seats in the Gryffindor section while Harry entered the changing rooms.  Wood’s speech was long and passionate, but to Harry only a few seconds passed until the team filed out onto the pitch.

Neville arrived late to the game, and Ginny and Hermione waved at him as he passed them in his search for an open seat.  I should have saved him a seat, Ginny said.  She had forgotten about their quiet friend in the excitement of the morning.

You’ll remember next time, Harry reassured her.

As Harry flew up to circle above the pitch, Ginny watched the rest of the players take up their starting positions.  Madam Hooch stood in the centre of the pitch holding the Quaffle.  The lead chasers, Angelina Johnson and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, hovered a few feet above her head, facing each other.  The remaining Chasers from each team waited behind and above their team-mates in case the lead Chasers missed the Quaffle when it was thrown into the air.  The Beaters flew higher still, at the level of the stands, and much further back.  They were spaced evenly around the field so that they could pursue the Bludgers as soon as the game started.  The two Keepers guarded their goalposts, and the Seekers circled above the stands.  They were the only players allowed to cross to the other team’s side of the field before the game started.

After Madam Hooch blew her whistle, Harry saw the opening moves through Ginny’s eyes as he performed a slow lap around the pitch.  Madam Hooch tossed the Quaffle straight up above her, and Angelina and Flint both rushed towards it.  Gryffindor’s Chaser was faster, but the trollish Slytherin used his longer arms to push her reaching hands aside and grab the Quaffle.  

Above them, Fred and George each chose a Bludger to pursue.  The iron ball on Fred’s side was on the Slytherin half of the pitch, and one of the other team’s Beaters reached it quickly and batted it at Wood, who was watching the Chasers.  The Gryffindor Captain evaded it easily, and Fred flew down retrieve it.  George reached his Bludger quickly and controlled it temporarily by trapping the iron ball between his broom and his bat.  When his twin was ready, the pair sent both Bludgers into the approaching formation of Slytherin Chasers.  The three Gryffindor girls flew above and on either side of their counterparts, looking for an opportunity to steal the Quaffle.

Reluctantly, Harry tore his attention away from Ginny’s point of view and concentrated on finding the Snitch.  As he scanned the pitch carefully, Ginny’s vision faded.  The last thing he saw with her was Hagrid pushing his way into the crowd of students to join Harry’s friends in the Gryffindor section of the stands, displacing four second-years to sit with them.

Good luck, Harry, Ginny said.  They had agreed before the game that she would not look for the Snitch herself.  It would feel too much like cheating, they decided, and Ginny wanted to watch the Chasers anyway.  After watching the Gryffindor team practice, she had developed a keen interest in the position. Although she loved watching and feeling Harry’s dives and his incredible speed, she was more excited by the manoeuvring and intricate timing of the Chasers.

After twenty minutes passed with no sign of the Snitch, Harry had relaxed just enough to pay attention to Lee Jordan’s commentary.  Slytherin was ahead by twenty points, and the green-clad team seemed committed to playing as roughly as they could.  Katie Bell had narrowly avoided being hit by another Bludger when Harry spotted the Snitch hovering near one of the Slytherin Chasers.

Harry focused on the tiny golden ball and raced down to it as fast as he could.  He spotted the opposing team’s Seeker approaching from one side, but Harry thought he would get to it first.  It’s yours, Harry! Ginny agreed with him.

He was reaching out to try to catch the Snitch when Ginny’s warning rang through his head.  Look out left!  After many Quidditch practices and near misses from Bludgers, Harry had grown accustomed to Ginny’s warnings, and he reacted instantly.

Flint, the Chaser Harry had passed in pursuit of the Snitch, was angling in towards Harry on a collision course.  Harry put on a burst of speed to avoid the older boy, but Flint managed to ram the handle of his broomstick into the tail of Harry’s, sending Harry spinning off course.  Madam Hooch’s whistle blew immediately, but when Harry righted himself after the collision, he was flying straight at the wall of the pitch at high speed.  Mere feet from the wall, he yanked the handle of his Nimbus up hard and hoped that he would not hit the wall.  As his path became vertical, he felt his robes flapping against the side of the pitch and realized just how close he was.  He kept flying straight up and burst above the stands, causing the Ravenclaws who were watching him to leap back from the wall between them and Harry.

Lee Jordan saw Harry’s manoeuvre and crowed loudly to the entire stadium.  “Woohoo!  It’ll take more than that to get Harry Potter off his broom, you dirty snakes!””Jordan!” Professor McGonagall shouted.

“Sorry, Professor,” Lee replied.  “I’m sure they showered last month.”

Harry briefly saw McGonagall pull Lee’s wand away from his mouth.  At the same time, Ginny saw Alicia Spinnet lining up for the penalty shot resulting from Flint’s attack on Harry.  She scored easily, and the game continued, but the Snitch was long gone.

After nearly ten minutes, both teams had scored another goal. Harry soared well above the action and searched relentlessly for the Snitch. As he dodged a Bludger sent his way by the Slytherins, he felt his broom give an odd lurch.  He gripped the handle tightly, but it lurched beneath him again.  He was certain that this had never happened before, and he did not remember that Ginny had ever heard of it, either.  Struggling with his broom, he was distantly aware of Ginny alerting his friends and Hagrid to the problem.  

As the Nimbus leapt violently up and down, Harry noticed that the game had stopped.  The students in the stands were all watching him.  The Slytherin team had also stopped to watch, except for Flint who was playing the match single-handedly and still driving towards the unattended Gryffindor goals.  Wood and the twins met in midair and pointed at Harry as they yelled frantically.  Several of the professors in their box were pointing their wands at Harry, but none of them had cast a spell yet.

In the middle of another sharp dive, Harry’s broom bucked underneath him and threw him forward over the front of the handle.  He clung to it with one hand and heard Ginny scream among the shouts and gasps from far below him.  

What do I do? he asked.

I don’t know!  Hold on, Harry, hold on!

Harry glanced down and saw the twins streaking towards him on their brooms as his other team-mates circled beneath him, closer to the ground.  When Fred and George were approximately thirty feet away, Harry’s broom leapt higher into the air, maintaining its distance from the two Beaters.  After this occurred twice, Fred and George stayed far enough below him to keep the broom from reacting.

Hermione shook Ginny’s arm forcefully to get her attention.  She saw that Hermione held Hagrid’s binoculars in her other hand, but the younger girl was too preoccupied with Harry to wonder why her friend had them.

“Ginny!” Hermione whispered sharply.  “If he falls, transport him to just above the ground.  If he doesn’t fall very far, it won’t hurt him.  But don’t do that until he’s falling!  It’s better for people to see him transport than for him to fall from that high, but don’t do it unless you absolutely have to.  I’m going to try to stop what’s happening to his broom.”

“Please help him, Hermione.  Please,” Ginny whispered, tears forming in her eyes.  Hermione nodded and dashed away with her wand drawn.

Harry managed to get his other hand onto his broom, but it was still moving too wildly for him to pull himself onto it.  Hang on, Harry.  If anyone can think of a way to help, it’s Hermione, Ginny said, struggling to remain calm so that she could move him if he fell.

After half a minute of tense waiting, during which Harry clung to his broom with desperate strength, the Nimbus stopped moving and hovered placidly above him.  Carefully, he pulled himself back into a normal flying position.  Ginny closed her eyes and concentrated on his vision to help him recover as she took several deep, relieved breaths.  Looking around, he saw that Flint had scored five times while the Gryffindor team was distracted.  He waved to the other members of his team, but before he could fly down to them, he spotted a flash of gold hovering near the Slytherin goalposts.

It’s mine, he snarled.  He was shaken by his near-fall, and adrenaline pumped madly through his veins.  Ginny was still recovering from her fright, but she was completely in favour of Harry’s catching the Snitch and ending the game.

Harry dived slightly to aim directly at the Slytherin goalposts and summoned all the speed he could from his broom.  He flew like an arrow towards the golden ball, which appeared to be hiding behind the left-hand post.  The Slytherin Keeper flew over to position himself between Harry and the Snitch, hoping to cause enough of a delay that the Slytherin Seeker could get to the Snitch from the other side.  

Harry scowled and maintained his course straight towards the Snitch, which he could see fluttering over the Slytherin’s shoulder.  Just as Harry was about to collide with the other player, the Snitch leapt upwards.  Harry, following its progress, slipped neatly through the Slytherin hoop and caught the Snitch on the other side.  He held the struggling ball above his head, and the crowd erupted in cheers as the Slytherin Keeper swore loudly.

“Harry Potter catches the Golden Snitch, and Gryffindor wins 200 to 110!” Lee Jordan proclaimed.

Harry flew the rest of the way to the ground and met his team-mates, who slapped him on the back and hugged him once he had assured them that he was alright. Although Harry was elated, the events from a few minutes before were catching up to him, and he needed a chance to recover.

Can we get out of here? he asked Ginny.

Hold on.

Ginny leaned over to Hermione and whispered, “Harry needs to get away.  Ask Hagrid if we can come over for tea.”  She saw her friend realize what she meant.

“Hagrid, would you mind some company for tea this afternoon?” Hermione asked.  “I’m sure Harry will want to get away from all this mess after a fright like that.”

“O’ course!” Hagrid replied, delighted.  “Yer all welcome at my ‘ouse anytimes.”

“I’ll go tell him,” Ginny volunteered.

Go get changed, Harry.  I’ll meet you outside the changing room.

Harry never showered in the changing rooms so that Ginny did not have to worry about accidentally seeing his team-mates.  Normally, he showered in the castle after each practice, but he had no interest in traipsing through the crowds in the castle today.  Instead, he took off his Quidditch uniform, hung it in his locker, and emerged from the locker room in the baggy Muggle clothes he had inherited from Dudley.  As he left his team-mates, he heard Fred shout to him that there would be a party in the common room after dinner that evening.

Harry and Ginny walked around the pitch to get to the path to Hagrid’s hut.  As soon as they were out of sight of the other students, they stopped, and Ginny flung her arms around Harry’s neck.  He put his arms around her and held her as she squeezed him tightly.

That was too close, Harry.

I’m sorry, Ginny, he said.  I was scared, too.

She shook her head against his shoulder.  It’s not your fault.  Something happened to your broom.  I just wish it hadn’t.

After another long moment, they released each other, and Ginny wiped her damp eyes.  Dangerous sport, Quidditch.  She kept a tight hold on Harry’s hand as they continued along the path.

A few minutes later, they found Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid waiting for them outside Hagrid’s hut.  He led them all inside and served them tea in teacups the size of pewter tankards.

“Tha’ was a righ’ decent bit of flyin’, Harry,” he said.  “Nerve-wrackin’, but good flyin’.”

“What happened?” Harry asked.  “My broom just went crazy, and then it stopped.”  He glanced carefully at Hermione.

“It was Professor Snape,” she declared.  “I used Hagrid’s binoculars and saw him staring at you and muttering.  He must have been jinxing your broom.”

“What did you do, Hermione?” Ginny asked.  “You ran off, and a minute later it stopped.”

“Well, I… I set his robes on fire,” she admitted in a whisper.

“You did what?” Ron exclaimed.

“I took the fire away once he stopped jinxing Harry!” she said, misinterpreting Ron’s expression.

“Wicked,” he muttered, his face alight with mirth.

“I’m not going to just sit around and scream anymore,” Hermione promised.

Ginny smiled ruefully.  “I guess it was my turn for that.”

“Wha’s this, then?” Hagrid demanded.  “Wha’ happened the firs’ time?”

“We, err…” Ginny began.

“We had a bit of an accident in Potions, that’s all,” Hermione said.  “Ginny’s cauldron exploded a little bit.”

Hagrid grunted his amusement.  “Don’ you worry abou’ tha’, li’l Ginny.  Done it a few times meself.  Bet ol’ Snape didn’ care for it, though.”

Ginny smiled at her large friend.  From a man the size of Hagrid, being called ‘little’ was hardly an insult.  She was much less than half as tall as he was.

“Why would he jinx my broom?” Harry wondered.

“He probably heard what Lee said about knocking you off your broom and thought it was a good idea,” Ron speculated.

“I’m not sure…” Hermione trailed off and everyone looked at her expectantly.  Blushing slightly, she continued.  “Last week, I went to find Professor Flitwick to ask him a question.  He wasn’t in his office, so I went to the staff common room.  When I got there, the door was ajar, so I looked inside.

“Professor Snape was there with Mr. Filch.  He was bandaging his leg, which was covered in blood, and I heard him say something about watching all three heads at the same time.  When I heard that, I left as quickly as I could.”

“He must have tried to get past that three-headed dog!” Harry exclaimed.  “What did you call it, Hermione?  A Cerberus?”

“Fluffy’s no Cerberus,” Hagrid scoffed.  “Sure, ‘e’s got some things in common, but there ain’t no snakes growing out of ‘is back, is there?  ‘E’s just a regular tyke with three heads.”

“Regular tyke?” Ron repeated.  “Hagrid, he’s the size of a flippin’ house!”

“Oh no, ‘e’s just a bit bigger ‘n regular size…” Hagrid trailed off and finally realized what he was saying.  “’ere now, how’d you lot know about Fluffy?”

“Fluffy?” Ginny asked incredulously.  “His name is Fluffy?”

He’s no better at names than you are, she teased Harry.

“’Course it is.  Named ‘im m’self when I got him.  ‘e was just a li’l pup then, only abou’ this ‘igh.” He held his hand up above Ginny’s head.  “I let Dumbledore borrow ‘im to guard…”

“What, Hagrid?  What’s he guarding?” Harry asked.

“Never you mind tha’,” Hagrid insisted.

“But Snape may be trying to steal it!”

“He’s not tryin’ ter steal nothin’,” Hagrid said.  “’e might be a slimy bugger, but ‘e’s an Hogwarts professor, and ‘e’d not cross Dumbledore.  Old Nic’las Flamel hisself wouldn’t cross Dumbledore these-a-days.  Tha’s why he asked Dumbl’dore to keep an eye on the…” he trailed off again.  “Well, never mind tha’.”

The four students tried everything they could think of, but Hagrid refused to say anything else about Fluffy, Nicolas Flamel, or the thing that Dumbledore was protecting.  They spent the rest of the afternoon with Hagrid discussing Quidditch, their lessons, and Ginny’s brothers.  Harry already knew that Hagrid was fond of Charlie, but he was surprised to learn a lot about Ginny’s oldest brother, Bill.

“Bill, now… Bill was a bit diff’ren’ than the rest o’ you’s ha’ been,” Hagrid reminisced.  “’E were never worried much abou’ what other people thought o’ him, and ‘e never let anyone get away with thinkin’ bad stuff abou’ someone else for no reason.  ‘E was brainy, o’ course, but you’d never of guessed it from meetin’ him.  Best ‘ead Boy we’ve had in ages, I reckon.”

He’s right, Ginny confirmed.  Bill’s wonderful.  I only remember a few years before he moved away from home to take his job in Egypt, but he was always nice to me, and he always talked to me like I was his age.  He told me all about his lessons and girlfriends, and he let me talk about whatever I wanted.

Harry remembered some of Ginny’s conversations with her oldest brother.  One in particular jumped out at him.  Ginny had told Bill that the twins had been teasing her for listening to Harry’s story every night.  Ginny asked Bill what he thought, and Bill said that his opinion did not matter.  What Ginny thought about Harry Potter was her business, he said, and no one had any right to tell her whether it was right or wrong.  The only person in the world who really knew what Harry was like was Harry himself, and everyone else was just guessing.

Do you think he’ll like me? Harry wondered.

I’m sure he will, Ginny answered, but I don’t know how he’ll feel about us.  Bill’s wonderful, but he’s protective, and he took care of me almost as much as Mum and Dad did when I was a baby.  He was the one who usually kept the twins away from me until I was old enough to fight back.  We can at least count on him to hear us out, though.

Well, that’s an improvement, Harry agreed.

Late in the afternoon, the four friends said goodbye to Hagrid and went back to the common room.  Harry finally had his shower, and they relaxed in the common room until it was time for dinner.  The Great Hall was abuzz with talk of the Quidditch match and the odd behaviour of Harry’s Nimbus Two Thousand.  Harry accepted everyone’s congratulations and claimed that he had no idea what had happened to his broom.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was complete chaos.  The twins had found a punch bowl somewhere and filled it Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.  The bowl was on a long table otherwise filled with bottles of pumpkin juice and trays of biscuits.  Someone had produced a wireless from somewhere, and music from the Wizarding Wireless Network filled the room.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione claimed a long sofa for themselves, and Ron brought them all pumpkin juice and biscuits.  A few minutes later, Neville pulled up a chair and joined them with his own food.

A steady stream of Gryffindors came by to congratulate Harry, and he thanked them shyly.  Harry and Ginny really wanted to leave and sit someplace a bit quieter, but Ginny thought that it would be rude to leave early from a party in the team’s honour.  Finally, at ten o’clock, the four first years waved goodnight to the older students and went up to their dormitories.  Minutes later, Ginny joined Harry in his room and they settled down to sleep.

Three hours later, Harry was rudely awakened by familiar voices outside the curtains.

“Finite Incantatem,” one said.

Fred!  Ginny exclaimed.  Her body was still sleeping against Harry’s side.  Quick, wake me up!

Parchment rustled, and then the curtains parted enough to admit Fred’s head.  A moment later, the curtains on the other side of the bed opened, and George peered through.

Too late, Harry reached down and patted Ginny’s arm where it was draped across his stomach.  Her eyes opened, and both of them moved up to sit at the head of the bed.

“See, Fred?”

“I see, George.”

“This can’t be good.”

“Not good at all.  Perhaps even bad,” Fred speculated.

In one smooth motion, Ginny reached over to the bedside table and retrieved her and Harry’s wands.  She passed his to him, and they raised them simultaneously.  Fred and George, apparently startled by such an abrupt action, did not even have time to raise their wands.

“Silencio!” Harry and Ginny whispered together.  The twins gaped at the two of them, unable to speak.

“Get in here and be quiet!” Ginny ordered, while she and Harry kept their wands pointed at her brothers.  Realizing that they had very few options, Fred and George climbed onto the foot of the bed and sat side by side facing Harry and their sister.

Ginny and Harry lowered their wands.  “Okay, listen,” she whispered.  “There’s a reason I’m here, and we’ll tell you what it is.  The Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and our parents know all about it, and if you get us caught you will be in a lot more trouble than we will.  We’ll take the spells off, but you’d better not say a word until we go somewhere private.  Right?”

Two red heads nodded, and Harry and Ginny removed the Silencing Charms.  George motioned for them to follow, and the twins led them quietly out of the dormitory and down to the common room.  As they passed the long table at the side of the room, George picked up the empty punch bowl and carried it along with him.

As they crossed towards the portrait hole, Fred whispered over his shoulder.  “We can’t talk here.  Percy wanders around at all hours, looking for someone to hand over to McGonagall.”

“Yeah, we found that out already,” Ginny said.  Fred looked sharply at her, but he was silent as the four students left Gryffindor Tower.  The twins led them down to the fifth floor and down a series of corridors until they reached an old portrait of a sleeping centaur.  Fred tapped the centaur with his wand and whispered something, and then the painting slid aside to reveal a tightly spiralling staircase.  George lit his wand, and they descended the stairs to find themselves at the beginning of a long, broad passageway.

Fred lit several candles along the walls.  Three large, battered armchairs were grouped in a loose circle in the centre of the open space.  Fred and George each claimed a chair as though it was an old habit, and Harry and Ginny wedged themselves into the third chair together.  George carefully placed the punch bowl on the ground.

“This used to be some sort of secret entrance to the castle,” he explained, “but it’s caved in a bit further up the passageway.  It’s a good place to talk.”

“And we have lots to talk about,” Fred added.  Harry thought that serious expressions looked rather out of place on the twins’ faces.

“Do you remember when Harry and I met on the platform?” Ginny began.  At their nods, she continued.  “Ever since then, Harry and I have been sharing things.  Thoughts, feelings, sensations… almost everything, really.  He even remembers what I do, and vice versa.”

“You know everything he knows?” George asked.

“And he knows everything you know?” Fred added.

Harry knew his cue.  “When you two were nine, you traded names for a week to see if anyone noticed.  Ginny figured it out on the first day, but you made her promise not to tell anyone.  She’s the only one who’s ever been able to tell you apart all the time.  I can do it, too.”  He pointed to the twin on the left, “You’re George,” he turned to point to the twin on the right, “and you’re Fred.”  He spoke with absolute conviction.

“Nobody can do that except Ginny,” Fred said to his brother.

“Still don’t know how she does it,” George remarked.

“She doesn’t either,” Harry shrugged.  “I think it has something to do with your cheeks, though.”

“What did you mean about sharing thoughts and feelings and sensations?” George asked Ginny after a few moments of reflection.

“If I see something or hear something, Harry sees or hears it too,” she explained.  “If he gets angry, I get angry.  And when I think something… well, it’s not so much that he hears me.  It’s more like he’s thinking it at the same time.”

“Harry, if that’s true, you’d better flee to South America now,” George advised.  “She’s got a vicious temper.”

“So does he,” she responded.  “It’s caused a few problems.”

“Like what?” Fred asked.

“Well, we might have set the table on fire back at the Burrow.  Just a little bit,” Ginny admitted.

“Aha!  So that’s why you went home…”

“…to burn down Mum’s kitchen!  Brilliant!” Fred finished.

The same realization came to both of them, and their faces fell.  “Wait… you told Mum about this?”  George asked, and Ginny nodded.  “Blimey, that’s the bravest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Fred was quiet for a moment, and then a grin lit his face.  “Had kittens, didn’t she?”

Ginny smiled in a way that all of the Weasley children knew.  “Yeah.”  She ticked items off on her fingers.  “We got the screaming, the fully red face, the threats, and she called me ‘young lady’ twice.”

George looked puzzled.  “What, she skipped using your full name? That should come before you get the threats.”

“She came back for that one later,” Ginny admitted.  “She never quite got to the point of waving her finger in my face, so I knew we were okay.”

Ginny, what?  Harry did not know where to start with his questions.

Mum’s pretty predictable, see, so we have a system.  Her memories flashed through his mind rapidly.

“How’d you avoid the finger?” Fred asked.  “I can’t see how this wouldn’t get her right riled up.”

“Well, that’s when we set the table on fire.  Then Dad got involved, and Harry made them promise that they wouldn’t yell at us any more.”

The brothers were awed.  “Harry made her stop yelling?”

“She called Ginny foolish,” Harry said.

Fred glanced over at George, and they both nodded.  “Right.  Take a note, George,” Fred said.  “Don’t call Ginny foolish.”

“Got it, Fred,” George noted.

“I think ungrateful and stupid were also mentioned,” Ginny said with a smile.

George snorted.  “Even we’re not that stupid.”

What did you do to them?  They don’t sound anything like Percy or Ron.

I just play the sorts of games they like to play, Ginny answered, shrugging.  If they prank me, I prank them back.  If they go too far, I hex them, and I never let them get caught unless I mean to.

And that makes them okay with all of this? Harry wondered, cocking his head to one side.

I don’t know if they’re okay with it, but they’re at least willing to listen to me and believe what I say.

“Oi, Fred, they’re chatting away without us,” George observed.

“Sorry,” Ginny apologized.  “Harry was surprised that you aren’t anything like Percy and Ron.”

Fred laid a hand flat over his heart.  “Wow, Harry, thanks.  That’s beautiful…” he sniffed, “…that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to us.”

George nodded sincerely.  “Really means something, old boy.”

“Ron’s fun to toy with,” George continued, “but he never plays back.  Percy… well, I don’t know what’s wrong with Percy.  I think Bill must have dropped him on his head from an upstairs window when he was a baby.”

“You’re not freaked out that I’m sharing your sister’s head?”

“Well now, that depends.”  Fred turned to Ginny.  “Gin, are you freaked out that Harry’s sharing your head?”

“Nope,” she answered promptly.  “It’s wonderful.”

“You having fun inhabiting the mind of the most famous infant ever to crawl the streets of England?” George teased.

“Yeah.  You wouldn’t believe this whale of a cousin he’s got.”  Ginny grinned.  “I hope you get to meet him someday. You could make his life wonderfully horrible.”

“That’s it, then.  If she likes it, and she’s having fun, and we get a new pranking target, then we’re okay with it,” Fred declared.

George’s expression was completely serious.  “You’ve got to have fun, Harry.  Whatever you do, you have to enjoy it.  If you don’t, what’s the point?  If you have fun, and it doesn’t really hurt anyone, what’s the harm?”

“I think Percy would say you’ve really hurt him,” Ginny reminded them.  “What about that time you turned him into a lizard?”

“He got better,” George protested.

“Wish we could figure out how to do that on purpose,” Fred added.  “It would be a great trick.”

Harry saw what had happened.  They Transfigured Percy into a lizard without their wands?

I’ll bet that kept him quiet for a while, Harry grinned.

She nodded.  He didn’t say anything to them for a week.  Of course, he couldn’t say anything to anyone for several hours.

If they learn to do it, do you think they’d show us? he wondered.

“There they go again, oh brother of mine,” Fred said.

Do you suppose… Harry began.

“Can you two do that?” Ginny asked.  “Talk without saying anything, I mean.”

“Nope,” George admitted.  “Be right handy, that would.”

“Oh.  We just thought that since you’re twins, and you finish your sentences and everything…”

“What, you mean this –” Fred said.

“– little trick?  This is –”

“– nothing.  We’ve just been -”

“- saying the same things for so long that -”

“- we know what’s coming already,” Fred finished.

Can we try, Harry?  Ginny asked eagerly.

Sure.

By mutual consent, they relaxed the mental barrier they maintained between them and let their words flow seamlessly

“No one -” Ginny started.

“- would -” Harry continued.

“- ever -”

“- guess -”

“- that -” they said in unison.

“- you’re -”

“- not -”

“- reading -”

“- each -”

“- others’ -” together again.

“- minds.” Ginny finished.  Their entire statement sounded perfectly natural, except that it was spoken in two different voices, sometimes separately and sometimes together in a strange echo.

The twins’ mouths hung open in identical expressions of awe.  “Wicked,” they whispered reverently.

Fred’s brain got back on track quickly.  “So why did we find you in Harry’s room tonight, Ginny?”

Ginny frowned slightly.  “Aside from all the rest, we also share dreams and nightmares.  Harry has some pretty intense nightmares, you know?”

The twins knew as well as anyone what had happened to Harry.  “You mean…”

“Yeah, that.  Well, if we’re not touching, it’s hard to get to sleep.  When we do sleep, we have these nightmares for hours at a time, and we end up like zombies during the day.  If we’re together, then we get to sleep normally and rarely have nightmares.”

“So you sleep in Harry’s room?  And Mum knows about this, too?” George asked.

“She knows, alright,” Ginny nodded.  “She had to see it to believe it, mind, but she allowed us both to sleep in Ron’s room after that.  She still wasn’t happy about the whole thing, and she sent me these pyjamas,” she grabbed her pyjama shirt and shook it, “that I can’t take off without an act of Parliament signed in blood by the Queen.”

“So whatever it was she saw was enough to convince her to let you and Harry sleep together at home and at Hogwarts?” Fred summarized.

“She insisted on it, actually,” Harry answered.

George shuddered.  “That’s damn well good enough for us, then.”

“So this is why you showed up during the Sorting?” Fred asked.  Ginny nodded.  “And this is why McGonagall wanted to talk to you that morning in our first week?” She nodded again.  “How did she find out?”

Ginny shrugged.  “She didn’t tell us, and we weren’t stupid enough to ask.”

“Right.  Not stupid.  We noted that down,” Fred said wryly.  He turned to George.  “I guess we still don’t know, do we?”

“We’ll get into McGonagall’s room someday and find out,” George replied.  Turning back to Ginny, he asked, “So this must be why we’re all going to The Burrow for Christmas this year?”

Earlier in the week, all five Weasley children and Harry had received notes from Mrs. Weasley.  The five letters to her children had been firm notices that they would be coming home to The Burrow for the holidays.  Harry’s letter had been phrased as an invitation, but Harry and Ginny both knew that the difference was purely theoretical.

“Yeah,” Ginny nodded.  “Mum said she was going to get everyone together to talk about it and tell any of you who hadn’t heard yet.”

“Ron and Percy already know, you said?”

“Mum told Percy so that he could keep an eye on us,” she confirmed.  “We decided to tell Ron so that he could help me hide from Harry’s other dormmates.”

George looked almost hurt.  “Why the heck didn’t you tell us before now?”

“It wasn’t because we didn’t trust you,” Ginny assured them apologetically.  “We just weren’t sure what you would say.  Ron and Percy were both really mean to us, at first, and we didn’t want to go through that again until we had to.”

“Percy was a complete ponce, wasn’t he?”

“Absolutely.  He volunteered to help punish us before he even knew what was going on.  Once Mum explained it to him, he was jealous or something, and he hasn’t been civil to us since then. He wasn’t particularly nice to Mum and Dad, either.”

“Jealous?  Yeah, I just bet he was.”

“Do you know why, George?” Ginny asked curiously.

Her brother shifted nervously.  “Look, you didn’t hear this from us, okay?  Mum would skin us.  But… well, you’re going to suss it out sooner or later.”

“Right,” Fred nodded.  “Percy’s been getting awfully friendly with Penelope Clearwater…”

“Is that her name?” Ginny wondered.  “That Ravenclaw prefect with the brown hair?”

“Yeah, that’s her.  Anyhow, Percy’s been spending a lot of time with her.  He’d never do anything remotely improper, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about it often enough.  He’s jealous that you two could do something that he probably never will.”

“What’s that?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Sorry,” George said.  “We’re not going to answer that one.  It just wouldn’t be right, in so many ways.  But it’s the same reason Mum doesn’t like you two sleeping together, okay?  And in a few years, you’ll… well, that can be Mum’s problem.”

“Why would she be worried about …” Ginny trailed off and reddened slightly as her eyes flicked towards Harry.  “Oh.”

Harry blushed furiously, dropped his eyes to his feet, and tried desperately to separate all of his senses from Ginny’s.

“Oh,” she repeated, and then she straightened her shoulders.  “I don’t see why everyone gets so worked up about that.  And Percy… that’s just disgusting.”

“So, err… what did Ron say?” Fred asked, apparently eager to change the subject.

Ginny shook her head rapidly to clear her mind, and they both concentrated on the memory of their conversation with Ron.  “He went around the twist a bit at first,” Ginny said.  “He said that I must have bewitched Harry or something, because I’d talked about him so much when I was little.”

“Bet that went over well,” George interjected.  “Did you hex him before you forgave him, afterwards, or both?”

“Neither, actually.  Harry took care of him for me.”

The twins raised their eyebrows at Harry, looking for an explanation.

“I compared him to Percy.”

“Ouch, Harry.  That is low,” George replied, impressed.

“It was better than burning down the tower,” Ginny offered.

“She’s serious, George,” Fred noticed.

“That she is, brother mine, that she is.”

“So,” Fred continued, “now everyone knows except for Bill and Charlie?  You said you talked about it with Dumbledore and McGonagall.”

“Yeah, they’re the only teachers who know.  Hermione Granger figured it out on her own, and she’s been helping us cover it up around the other students.”

“You mean to say that Mini-McGonagall has actually been helping with this?” Fred asked.  “Kill me now, George.  I’ve heard everything.”

“You just don’t know her,” Ginny insisted.  “She’s twice as smart as Percy, and once you get her to relax she’s a great friend.  She likes the rules, but that’s because she wants to stay out of trouble, not because she wants to get other people into trouble.  When things go crazy, she’s great to have around.”

George looked at his sister sharply.  “Speaking of which, what really happened at Halloween?  We never believed that rubbish about you two getting lost.”

“There are things you don’t want to tell us, and there are things we don’t want to tell you, okay?  Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I found the troll.  We fought it, and we won.  Is that enough?”

The twins shared a concerned look, but they nodded.  “Another time, maybe?”  Fred hoped.

“Only if Ron and Hermione agree,” Ginny said.

“Fair enough.”  George agreed.  He lifted the punch bowl from the ground into his lap.  “Do you want to help us with a little project?  We’ve got to get this bowl back to the kitchens before the house-elves miss it.  They’d probably be happy to take it back to the kitchens for us, but what they don’t know about, they can’t talk about.  If you two can see through each others’ eyes, you can help us keep an eye out for Filch while we’re down there.”

Ginny did not need to ask Harry if he was interested in seeing a new part of the castle.  “Sure, we’ll do it,” she said.

The four students climbed back up the staircase and slid the portrait open slightly.  Fred peered out to make sure the hallway was empty, and then they filed out into the passageway.  When they reached the stairs, they quickly followed them all the way down to the first level of the dungeons.  There, the twins led Harry and Ginny into a corridor they had never noticed before.  The group stopped in front of a large painting of a bowl of fruit.

George reached up and tickled the pear on its round end.  It giggled in a surprisingly deep voice and turned into a large green door handle. George pulled on it, and the painting swung open to reveal the entrance to the kitchen.

“Harry,” Fred whispered, “if you don’t mind, wait in that alcove across the hall and tell Ginny if you see or hear anything.  Or if she hears or sees anything.” He shook his head. “However that works for you two.”

“I’ll stand watch so Harry can see the kitchens,” Ginny offered, knowing Harry was interested in the cavernous room beyond the painting.  He would see it as she did, but somehow that never felt the same.

“We can show him the kitchens any time,” George answered, “but your hair stands out like a Gryffindor banner, Gin.  If you stay out here, you’ll be much easier to see.”

Neither of them could argue with that, so Harry tucked his body into the alcove such that he could peer down the hall in both directions.  Ginny, Fred, and George stepped through the doorway behind the painting, and it swung shut behind them.

The main room of the kitchen was an exact replica of the Great Hall one floor above it.  Four long tables ran the length of the room, and a shorter table crossed them at one end.  Along the walls of the room were an assortment of huge kettles, utensils, and pots and pans.  Three enormous fireplaces occupied the end of the room where the main doors stood in the Great Hall above.

Plates and silverware were arranged in neat rows along both sides of each table.  Each dish and utensil was perfectly clean and sparkled in the light of a few torches spaced around the huge room.  The everyday plates were plain, off-white porcelain, unlike the golden plates used for feasts.

“In the morning,” Fred told Ginny, “all the plates are sent up to the tables in the Great Hall before breakfast starts.  Then, when the doors open, the house-elves put the platters of food along the middle of each table and send those up, too.  After each meal, everything is sent down here again, and then they clean up and set it all out for the next meal.”

George carried the punch bowl into an adjoining room as Ginny wandered down the twin of the Gryffindor table.  Stopping at its head, she called back to Fred.  “It’s odd without anyone sitting here, isn’t it?”

He nodded casually and peeked after George.  A moment later, George reappeared and both twins turned to Ginny.  She walked back towards them, but as she passed the end of the table again, she paused, staring at one of the place settings.

“This is where Percy always sits,” she commented.  Her brothers nodded and looked confused.

Come in here, Harry, she requested.  He had some idea of what she was planning, and he approved completely.

Rather than trying to reach the pear to open the painting, Harry transported himself to the other side of the table, facing Ginny.

“What the hell?  Harry, how’d you get in here?” Fred demanded.

We keep forgetting that part, Ginny observed.

“Oh, right,” she said to her brothers.  “We forgot to show you that.  Watch.”

Harry and Ginny alternately disappeared and reappeared in various parts of the room.  Ginny had more practice and was very good at landing gently, but Harry managed to move around easily. They ended up facing the twins from a few feet away.  Ginny pushed her billowing hair behind her ears and faced them calmly.

“We don’t know how it works,” she explained in answer to their surprised looks, “but it lets one of us move to any place that the other can see or that we both remember really well.  That’s how I got to Hogwarts in the first place.  We have to be really careful to only go places we’re totally sure are empty.  Otherwise, bad things happen,” she shuddered slightly.

“That’s brilliant!” George said.  “Do you know the things you could do with that?”

“We’ll find out,” she grinned.  “But Dumbledore and McGonagall know about it, too, so we can’t be too obvious.”

“You can come pranking with us, though, right?” Fred asked.  “You’ve been given a wonderful gift, and it’s your bounden duty to use it for mayhem.”

“Funny you should mention that, Fred,” Ginny said.  “I was just remembering that Harry promised me that we could get back at Percy for being a complete wanker.”

“I’d never break a promise I made to Ginny,” Harry said solemnly, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a concealed grin.

“Music to my ears, dear sister,” George agreed.  “Please, enlighten us.”

“These plates go upstairs before breakfast, right?  And nobody puts anything on them until we serve ourselves?”

“Right you are, Gin.”

“And tomorrow’s Sunday, so everyone will eat at the same time, right?”

Sunday breakfast at Hogwarts was what McGonagall called a ‘school affair’.  Breakfast was not served until nine o’clock, and all students were expected to attend and eat at the same time.  Any students missing from the tables could expect a stern talking-to from their Head of House.

“Right again,” Fred answered her.

Ginny looked up at her brothers, grinning broadly.  “Do you have any of that purple powder you were working on this summer?”

“That’s… that’s brilliant, Ginny!” Fred and George were practically dancing with joy.

“We had a problem with it, because we wanted to be able to throw it at something to use it,” George continued.  “Instead, you have to tap it with your wand to activate it, and if you throw it after that, it just goes off all over your hand.”

Harry knew exactly what Ginny had in mind.  “But if we put it on the plates first, then activate it, it won’t go off until someone puts something on the plates.””Plates?  Plural?” Fred wondered.  “I thought you wanted to prank Percy the Plonker?”

“We do,” Ginny confirmed, “but why stop there?  We can also get Snape, Malfoy, and anyone else we want.  The more people we prank, the less likely they are to pin it on us.”

George grinned at Harry.  “You’re good for her, Harry my boy.  She never got caught, but she never thought this broadly before you came along.”

Ginny smiled at Harry, and he felt her appreciation.  “So, how much of that powder do you have?  And will it hurt you if you eat it?” she asked.

“Everything we make is edible.  We’ve got loads of the stuff you have to activate,” George replied.  “We could probably put it on half the plates in here.  I’ll have to go up and get it from my trunk, though.”

“Don’t be silly.  I’ll get it.” Ginny concentrated, and a moment later she landed safely in Harry’s bed.  She slipped out of the curtains and closed them behind her.  Silently, she padded up to the third level of the tower.

“Where’d she go?” Fred asked.

“My room first.  Now she’s on your landing.  It’s in your trunk, right George?”

“Yeah.  It’s in a blue bottle with a black lid, on the left.”

Ginny crept into the third year dormitory and quickly spotted her brother’s trunk.

Only the usual traps on the trunk? she wondered.

Harry relayed her question, and George looked at him intently.  Then he chuckled to himself, shook his head slightly, and replied, “Nothing new since the end of last term.”

That’s much too old.  I had all summer to figure these out.

She easily bypassed the various protections on the trunk and retrieved the blue bottle.  She paused to turn all of George’s boxers pink, and then she reappeared in the kitchens.

“That sure beats skulking around in the hallways,” Fred told his brother.

“Nothing is safe, Fred,” George said.

Ginny walked down the Gryffindor table to Percy’s usual seat at its head.  “Okay, so we’ll do Percy, Snape, and we’ll try to get Malfoy.  He usually sits in the same area.  Any other requests?”

“There are a couple of snotty Ravenclaws whose breakfasts could use a little livening up,” Fred offered.

“Do you know where they sit?” Ginny asked.

“Not really,” he admitted.

“Let’s get Dumbledore,” Harry suggested.

Ginny grinned appreciatively, but Fred and George gaped at him.  “You don’t do anything by halves, do you, Harry?”

“That’s Percy, Snape, Dumbledore, Malfoy, and a few Ravenclaws for good measure.”  She thought for a moment, and Harry’s mind blended smoothly with hers to offer an elaboration.

They both grinned mischievously.  “Am I thinking what you’re thinking, Ginny?” Harry asked aloud for the twins to hear.

“We think so, Harry, but where are we going to find a Fwooper and a Quick-Quotes Quill at this hour?” she quipped.

Harry laughed out loud and turned to the confused twins.  “Here’s what we’ll do.  We put your powder on the top end of the Gryffindor table, to get Percy and all of his neighbours, but miss the four of us since we sit at the other end of the table.  We do the entire right side of the Ravenclaw table, and that should get at least one of your friends there.  We’ll do alternate chairs on each side of the Slytherin table, which gives us a fifty-fifty chance of getting Malfoy and a guarantee of getting him or both of his sidekicks.  Then we’ll do the entire head table, except for Professor Sprout.  That way…” he trailed off suggestively.

Fred and George figured it out immediately.  “That way,” George finished, “everyone will be looking to the Hufflepuffs, and even if they figure out that it wasn’t one of them, they won’t know which of the other houses to look in.  That’s pure genius, Harry.”

“It was a collaborative effort,” Harry replied with a humble grin. Ginny stood next to Harry wearing the exact same grin.

“Fred, is it just me, or is Harry wearing Ginny-grin Number Six?” George wondered.

“It’s not you, brother mine.  That’s definitely Number Six,” his twin agreed.  “Has anyone told you two that you’re very creepy sometimes?”

“Nope,” Ginny answered cheerfully.

“You’re very creepy sometimes,” Fred said solemnly.

“Thanks.  You are, too.”

Ginny sprinkled a tiny bit of the twins’ powder across the centre of Percy’s plate.  The powder was an iridescent purple which stood out clearly against the pristine white porcelain.

“Give it a tap with your wand, and it’ll activate and turn invisible,” George advised.

Harry drew his wand and tapped the plate.  As promised, the powder sparkled briefly and then faded from view.

“Now, if it touches anything other than the plate, it’ll go off,” Fred warned.

“Do you want to put it on the plates yourselves?” Ginny offered generously.

“Not at all, my dearest sister.  We supply the product, and you do the work.  That’s how we like it.”

Twenty minutes later, the plates had been sprinkled with activated powder as Ginny and Harry had planned.  The four pranksters stood at one end of the hall and surveyed their handiwork happily.  As they had hoped, the kitchens looked just as they had before the small group arrived.

“A fine night’s work,” Fred declared.

“And a right proper initiation for the new generation,” George added.

Ginny smiled at her brothers.  “Thanks for not making this harder than it has to be.”

“Honestly, Ginny?” Fred replied.  “It’s weird, and I think it’s going to get weirder.  But you seem happy with it, and we’re absolutely sure that Mum will keep an eye on things, so we don’t see the need to make a fuss.  You’re still our baby sister, and you proved that tonight, so we’re okay.”

“Besides,” George added, “if Harry ticks you off, you can make his life miserable with no help from us.”  He turned to Harry.  “I warn you, Harry.  She may not be the most powerful witch around, but she makes up for it with sheer creativity.”

“Ah, yeah, about that…” Ginny blushed.  Her brothers’ raised eyebrows spoke volumes.

“Gin doesn’t like to talk about it,” Harry explained, “but she seems to have had a bit of a shift in that regard, too.”

“Oh no,” breathed Fred.

“Do you remember Ron’s power test?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, the whole family watches them each time,” George said cautiously.  “Bill says Ron's sphere is the largest of all of ours.”

“Well, Ginny’s is about twice the size of Ron’s.  Maybe closer to three times.”

I won’t mention our sphere, Ginny.

“I’m really getting too old for shocks like this, Harry,” Fred complained.

George looked alarmed.  “Ginny, have you used your Bat-Bogey Hex since this happened?”

“Well… sort of,” she admitted.  “Not on a person, though.”

George glanced at her shrewdly and then nodded to himself.  “Be careful, Gin,” he cautioned.  “That one was almost too much before, and I can’t imagine what it might do now.”

Really tick off a troll, that’s what it’ll do, she said with a trace of sadness.

“Let’s get back to the tower and get some sleep,” Fred suggested.  “You two go ahead and teleport yourselves.  It sounds like you’d get in a lot more trouble for being out than we would.  We’ve walked back from here dozens of times.”

“Okay,” Ginny agreed.  She hugged each of her brothers in turn.  “We had a lot of fun tonight.”

“We did, too.  After the Silencing Charm thing.”

“Sorry about that,” she said, lowering her eyes.

“It’s understandable,” Fred shrugged.  “We just didn’t understand it at the time.”

Ginny smiled and disappeared.

Just as Harry was about to follow her back to his room, Fred put out a hand to stop him.  “Harry…” the older boy began.

“She can still hear you, Fred,” Harry reminded him.

“Oh, right.  That’s okay, I guess.  At least this way I can pretend.”  He paused and looked at Harry with his brows slightly furrowed.  “She’s our baby sister, Harry.  She doesn’t need us to take care of her much anymore, but we still want to.  We’d rather you helped us, alright?”

Harry considered this for a moment.  The twins deserved a real answer.  “Do you take care of your own left eye, Fred?” he asked.

The twins both nodded their understanding.  “Goodnight, Harry,” George said.

What, I’m not good enough to be your right eye?  Ginny teased him, and he grinned with both affection and exasperation.

“Said something cheeky, didn’t she?”  Fred nodded sagely.

“All the time,” Harry agreed.

“You’re a brave lad, Harry.”

He smiled again and willed himself to his bed, where Ginny was waiting for him and grinning.

I think they like you.

Makes a change, doesn't it? he agreed as he Transfigured Ginny’s towel into Bun-bun.

Ron likes you, she protested as she smiled and pulled the bunny to her chest.  He just had to think about everything for a while first.

Well, he doesn't really understand, Ginny admitted.  But he's been loads better since Halloween.

Do you think I might get any presents? Harry asked.  He would never wonder such a thing out loud, but Ginny would know it was there whether he mentioned it or not.

I guarantee you’ll get at least one, she promised, and if there aren't more, I'll give you a very useful demonstration of proper hexing technique in a family environment.

What do you want for Christmas, Gin? he wondered.  I can’t think of any way to surprise you, and I’ve never given a Christmas present before, so I hope it’s okay to ask.

She sensed his tentative, wordless thought and examined it as they lay down to sleep.  Yes, Harry, you can get presents for my family.  We’ll give the gifts from both of us to help people get used to the idea.  She paused, then sighed briefly.  And yes, you can pay for them.  But nothing expensive, okay?

That’s fine, Ginny, he agreed.  I’d just rather we were able to give them presents that they’ll like, and I’m rubbish at making things.

The next morning, Harry and Ginny had their usual weekend lie-in, but they made sure that they were awake in time to get to breakfast.  They spotted Fred and George in the common room.  The twins seemed to be up and about a few minutes earlier than usual, but they showed no other sign that something interesting might happen.  Following their lead, the younger pranksters chatted casually with Ron, Hermione, and Neville on their way to breakfast.

The five students took seats in their usual area of the table.  Closer to the entrance to the Great Hall, Fred and George sat with Angelina, Alicia, and Lee Jordan.  At every table, gleaming white plates waited innocently for the meal to begin.

As usual on Sundays, Dumbledore was the last of the staff to enter the hall and take his place at the high table.  He waited a few moments for the students to settle and then clapped his hands sharply.  Platters of steaming food appeared all along the five tables, and everybody reached for their favourites.

Harry and Ginny’s planning paid off handsomely.  Percy was among the first to serve himself.  As he placed his bangers on his plate, they burst into bright orange flames and sent thick grey smoke billowing towards the enchanted ceiling.  Percy leapt away from his plate and fell backwards off of the bench with his arms flailing wildly.  Other panicking Gryffindors pushed their burning plates away from them, which caused the powder to fly onto the platters themselves, igniting the food in irregular patches.

At the Ravenclaw table, one entire side of the long table erupted into mayhem.  The normally reserved Ravenclaws found themselves fighting each other to get off of their bench and away from their combusting breakfasts.  Students on the other side of their table, unaware that their plates were perfectly safe, also attempted to evacuate, but for the most part they only succeeded in tangling themselves with the Slytherins seated behind them.  An overly emotional second-year girl picked up her tainted plate and flung it down the aisle in the middle of the hall.  It crashed to the floor and shattered with no immediate effects, but a moment later a trail of fire appeared along the flagstones below its path.

The checkerboard pattern at the Slytherin table was devastating.  Draco Malfoy squealed loudly as his plate erupted in flame.  Crabbe and Goyle, on either side of him, pushed themselves away from the blonde boy and collided heavily with the students adjacent to them.  A blonde girl with sharp features was pushed into her own powdered plate, and the arm of her robes brushed across its surface.  Her sleeve immediately burst into flames, and she screamed as she waved it frantically.  All along the table, similar reactions occurred, sending the invisible powder onto nearly everything.  For a few moments, it appeared that the entire surface of the Slytherin table was burning.

The Hufflepuffs, of course, were totally unaffected.  They sat amazed at their table between the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws and watched as the rest of the student body panicked.  Unfortunately, a Hufflepuff fourth year was the first to start laughing uncontrollably at the mob of confused students between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables.

Fred and George call it ‘invisible combustion powder’, Ginny explained with awe in her voice.  It’s invisible itself, and when it goes off, it creates an illusion of fire and smoke.  Then it causes whatever it’s touching to disappear for a while.

Ginny glanced up at the head table in time to see a small blaze consume a fried egg on Snape’s plate.  The sour-faced professor was trying very hard to cover his surprise with a derisive sneer, but he was failing miserably.  McGonagall, Flitwick, and most of the other professors watched as their own food was apparently incinerated.  Professor Sprout’s plate was conspicuous in that her breakfast was undisturbed.

Harry watched the Headmaster covertly.  Dumbledore had not yet served himself, and he watched the chaos in the Great Hall as fires sprang to life and died out at three of the four tables.  Narrowing his eyes slightly, he picked up his own plate by its edges and peered at its unmarked surface.  He turned it slightly and tilted it towards him, apparently trying to catch the light.  As one edge of the plate dipped, the powder slid off of its smooth surface and fell into Dumbledore’s long beard.  Instantly, the white hair covering his chest caught fire.  With a horrified look, he dropped the plate back onto the table and tried to beat out the flames with his hands, but they continued to burn without any disturbance.  He pulled his hands away and examined them.  They were completely uninjured.

The flames in Dumbledore’s beard died out, and a large portion of it appeared to be missing.  The old wizard reached up again and patted the gap.  Harry was sure he saw the Headmaster grin slightly as he moved his hands back to his lap.

Septima Vector, Harry noticed, was watching the Headmaster also.  When he seemed to accept the loss of a portion of his beard, the Arithmancy professor looked curiously at her own empty plate.  Without hesitation, she reached out and touched one fingertip to the surface of the porcelain.  As her finger caught fire, she lifted it up and examined it calmly, turning it this way and that in front of her face.  The fire went out quickly, leaving her staring at the lower half of her finger.  She flexed her hand briefly, grinned, and then tapped a different finger onto her plate and watched the flames engulf it.

Ginny looked around at the house tables and saw that the students had also discovered that the fire did not burn them.  Some were attempting to set themselves on fire in various ways.  Fred had apparently given in to extreme temptation and found an empty plate on the pranked half of the Gryffindor table.  Positioning himself carefully, he lowered his hair onto the plate.  When it appeared to be burning merrily, he straightened and grinned at his housemates.  A few moments later, he appeared to have only a few tufts of bright red hair.  Otherwise, his scalp was bare.

Several of the Ravenclaws who had avoided the prank apparently decided that it was some sort of experiment.  They picked up berries and small pieces of food and dropped them onto the affected plates, watching them burn.  Eventually, after they had added enough food to a given plate to exhaust the powder, a blueberry or other food dropped onto the surface simply sat untouched an inch or two above the surface of the plate.

Movement at the head table caught Harry’s eye again, and he looked up to see Snape pulling a large vial from a pocket in his robe.  Holding the vial in his left hand, the Potions master gingerly lifted his plate and tipped it towards the mouth of the vial.  Harry thought he was trying to capture some of the powder, and he succeeded.  As soon as the unused powder touched the top of the vial, however, the vial itself caught on fire.  As it burned, the front of Snape’s robes moved, and he recoiled from the unseen contact.  The burning vial fell to the table, forgotten, alongside the professor’s plate.

By this time, most of the students in the hall were laughing uproariously at the various effects of the prank.  Harry and Ginny were nearly sobbing with mirth, but even their extreme amusement did not seem out of place.

Eyes twinkling madly, Dumbledore stood up and raised his arms for silence.  Gradually, the laughter in the hall faded, and the last of the fires went out as the last of the powder was consumed.  Glancing around the Hall, Ginny and Harry saw an incredible variety of things missing.  Nearly half of the food served had vanished.  Plates, utensils, and goblets were either absent or only partially visible.  In some cases, even parts of the tables had vanished. Dozens of students had holes in their robes or missing sleeves, and a few had lost portions of their hair in one way or another.  A Gryffindor they did not know had somehow managed to get the powder on his nose with rather grotesque results.  Professor Vector appeared to have only one whole finger, but she smiled brightly as she waggled the stubs of the others.

As the hall finally became still, the first things to have been ‘burned’ reappeared.  Food materialized on Percy’s plate as he disentangled himself from the bench and regained his seat.  Over the next minute, the hall seemed to shimmer as previously invisible food, items, clothing, and body parts reappeared.  The Ravenclaws’ hovering berries were revealed to be perched atop a haphazard pile of mixed breakfast foods.  To Ginny’s eternal delight, Snape had managed to drop his fried egg onto the front of his robes, and its remnants dripped slowly into his lap.  When he noticed, the sour man cast a quick cleaning charm on himself, and the runny egg disappeared.  The rest of the professors’ food reappeared, as did the missing portion of Dumbledore's beard.

When everything had reappeared, the scene was almost as bizarre as it had been a minute earlier.  Food had fallen or been thrown onto almost every surface, including many students’ heads.  The students themselves were dishevelled and scattered around the hall in clumps and knots.  The area between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables was an indistinguishable mass of food, dishes, and students in green-trimmed or blue-trimmed robes.

Gradually, the students from the other three houses turned to stare at the Hufflepuffs and Professor Sprout.  A few of the yellow-clad students had got caught in the Gryffindors’ commotion at the head of their table, but most of them simply stared at the undisturbed food on their plates.

“I trust that we are all awake now,” Dumbledore said loudly.  “Students, please return to your dormitories and make yourselves presentable.  We will reconvene here at ten o’clock.  I hope that we will be able to procure another breakfast by that time.  The Heads of House and I will investigate the source of this… disturbance.”

Harry was certain he saw the corners of the Headmaster’s mouth twitch as he spoke the last word.

That was incredible, he congratulated Ginny.

It was, wasn’t it?  I have to admit that I had no idea it would be so spectacular.

Do you think they’ll figure out who did it? he wondered.

I don’t see how they could.  When they admit that they can’t prove anything, they’ll just assume it was Fred and George.  That’s probably exactly what the twins want.

And it works for us because we don’t want the attention anyway, he agreed.

Everybody wins.  And we get memories to treasure for years to come, she grinned.

The students filed out of the Great Hall, and Harry and Ginny spotted the twins slowly climbing the stairs ahead of them.  When the younger pair caught up to them, Fred whispered, “Brilliant, Ginny.  Absolutely brilliant.  You too, Harry.”

“I’ll bet that that ends up in Hogwarts, A History,” George added.  “The next time you two have an idea like that, come and see us, yeah?”

Ginny nodded slightly.  “Thanks.  Your part was perfect.”  She knew better than to mention the invisible combustion powder, even in whispers.

The second breakfast that morning was a cautious but happy affair.  Once the students realized that their plates and utensils were safe, they began eating their breakfasts and boisterously discussing the morning’s events.  Harry and Ginny sat with Ron and Hermione again, and they made sure to leave room for Neville, who joined them a moment later.

As she sat down, Hermione announced, “That was horrible.  Someone could have been hurt.”  She paused, and the corners of her mouth curled slightly in a rare grin.  “Did you see Professor Snape?” she asked.

“Did you hear Malfoy squeal?” Ron returned as he nodded.

“What about Professor Vector?” Ginny added.  “She burned all of her fingers on purpose!”

“Dumbledore was the best,” Harry offered.  “The look on his face when his beard caught on fire… you’d have thought someone ate his puppy.”

Hermione recoiled.  “That’s revolting!  Why would you say something like that, Harry?”

“Err… sorry,” Harry muttered, reddening.  He had not intended to offend his friend.

“He hasn’t exactly had good role models before this year, Hermione.  His wretched cousin said that once,” Ginny whispered in her friend’s ear.

The older girl sighed and relaxed.  “It’s alright.  I was just startled, I suppose.”

“Dumbledore’s expression was pretty funny,” Neville said quietly.

The four Heads of House were making their way down the long tables, questioning the students as they went.  McGonagall approached, and the first-years stopped their conversation before they could be overheard.

“Do any of you know what caused the disturbance this morning?” the stern woman asked.  She addressed them as a group, but Harry thought that the professor was looking primarily at him and Ginny.

“No, Professor,” Ginny answered for them all.

It’s the truth.  We know it was the powder, but we have no idea what the powder was made of.

I don’t think that’s what she meant, Harry answered.

Let’s pretend that it is.

“Do you suppose some Hufflepuffs have decided to try to out-prank the twins?” Ron wondered as McGonagall moved further down the table.

“You never know, Ron,” Ginny replied, “but I agree that it wasn’t really Fred and George’s style.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “They’re plenty brave enough, but they’re usually not that… I dunno… indirect, I guess.”

Hermione glanced sharply at Ginny, then rolled her eyes and continued slicing her sausages into precise discs.

Harry and Ginny finished their breakfast, revelling in the conversations swirling around them.  They were tired from missing sleep the previous night, but they agreed that the results were worth the loss.