As I casually slipped into the Great hall (and I mean slipped, I fell over.) I heard a large BANG! from upstairs.

Unfortunately, as everyone turned, they saw me falling over and assumed I’d made the noise.

“Come on, I’m not that fat.” I said to a sort of bemused Hufflepuffian.

It wasn’t until the second bang that everyone decided to trample me to see what was going on. Eventually, I crawled up onto the first floor after everyone and started laughing.

Dragons comprised entirely of green-and-gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went. Shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers. Many of these wheels were attacking the Slytherins, which made me laugh harder.

Rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls, and off people. Sparklers were writing swearwords in midair of their own accord, and once I swear one write llama. Legendary Sparklers.

Firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere I looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight, or fizzling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer I watched.

Laughing, I ducked down, ran to a door I knew was concealed behind a tapestry a little way along the corridor and slipped through it to find Fred, Harry and George hiding just behind it, listening to everyone’s cheers and Umbridge’s screams.

“Impressive,” I said quietly, grinning. “Very impressive...”

“Cheers,” whispered Fred, wiping tears of laughter from his face.

“You’re amazing, you are.” I nodded to them both. “Twenty points to Gryffindor.”

“How’s old Umbridge going?” George asked.

“The screams, they’re all her work....and a little from Filch.” I added.

“Brilliant,” George sighed in his happiness as we heard her screaming as she ran past us. “Just pure brilliance.”

The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers did not seem to mind them very much.

“Dear, dear,” said Professor McGonagall sardonically, as one of the dragons soared around her classroom, emitting loud bangs and exhaling flame. “Miss Brown, would you mind running along to the headmistress and informing her that we have an escaped firework in our classroom?”

She earned herself a hi-five from me.

The upshot of it all was that Professor Umbridge spent her first afternoon as headmistress running all over the school answering the summonses of the other teachers, none of whom seemed able to rid their rooms of the fireworks without her. When the final bell rang and we were heading back to Gryffindor Tower with our bags, I saw, with immense satisfaction, a dishevelled and soot-blackened Umbridge tottering sweaty-faced from Professor Flitwick’s classroom.

“Thank you so much, Professor!” said Professor Flitwick. “I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn’t sure whether I had the authority. . . .”

Beaming, he closed his classroom door in her snarling face.

I ended up crying at one point, because I was so happy to watch Umbridge talking to Filch about how she had no idea what to do.

Fred and George were heroes that night in the Gryffindor common room. Even Hermione fought her way through the excited crowd around them to congratulate them.

“They were wonderful fireworks,” she said admiringly.

“Thanks,” said George, looking both surprised and pleased. “Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. Only thing is, we used our whole stock, we’re going to have to start again from scratch now. . . .”

“It was worth it, though,” said Fred, who was taking orders from clamouring Gryffindors – me included. “If you want to add your name to the waiting list, Hermione, it’s five Galleons for your Basic Blaze box and twenty for the Deflagration Deluxe. . . .”

Hermione rejoined us at the table where I was staring at my homework, willing my biro – (that’s right I found a biro and it’s cooler than a quill so I’ve been using that.) – to write itself.  Harry and Ron hadn’t even gotten so far as to open their bags and take their work out.

“Oh, why don’t we have a night off?” said Hermione brightly, as a silver-tailed Weasley rocket zoomed past the window. “After all, the Easter holidays start on Friday, we’ll have plenty of time then. . . .”

“Are you feeling all right?” Ron asked, staring at her in disbelief.

“Now you mention it,” said Hermione happily, “d’you know . . . I think I’m feeling a bit . . . rebellious.”

“Well what should we do then?” I asked. “Go for a midnight stroll – oh shit, I’m meant to be patrolling the corridors.” Bidding everyone goodnight, I sadly got up and left the common room to go stalk around the corridors. And that was when I ran into Filch.

“Student out of bed, eh?” he said, his eyes bulging from his ugly head.

“I’m part of the inquisitorial squad.” I said, rolling my eyes, which were not bulgy. “I’m supposed to be out of bed.”

“A likely story.” He snarled, giving me a form of déjà vu. He proceeded to drag me by the hair – “The headmistress likes the idea of punishment.”

I bet she does.

THE NERVE OF THAT WOMAN!

Anyway, he dragged me into umbridge’s office.

“Look who I found headmistress. Lurking the corridors, the filthy little Gryffindor.” He said horribly.

“Professor, I think there’s been a mistake.” I said pulling myself free of Filch’s grip.

“Oh no.” She smiled broadly looking like a toad. “No, Miss Hale, there hasn’t.”

Shit cakes.

The door shut behind Filch.

“What does that mean?” I said in a surprisingly little voice. And to answer, she lay out parchment and a quill for me.

“I want you to write some lines.” Umbridge said, smiling more broadly.

“And what would you like me to write?” I asked politely.

“Don’t trust me.”

“Okay, I won’t.” I said, keeping the smile from my face. “but what do you want me to write?”

“I would like you to write: ‘Don’t trust me.’”

“Oh, sorry, I tuned out, what would you like me to write?”

I watched the frustration on her face with amusement. Perhaps that’s what I was so distracted by that I didn’t see her reach for her wand.

“Crucio.”

And well, needless to say I was in pain. Lots of pain, I’d go into how much it hurt, but I was distracted. Because it stopped, without her say so. It was actually me. I stopped it. Now that’s confusing isn’t it?

“Listen, bitch,” I said, standing up and sweeping myself off. “You don’t torture me.” I glared into her pathetic and confused face as I twirled my wand in my hands. “You don’t tell me what to do. You don’t harm any student, from any house, alright?”

She nodded, wide eyed.

“And if you do speak about what happened in here, I will hunt you down and I will kill you.” I smiled, and she backed into the wall. “We’re going to pretend this night never happened. Okay?” I added lightly

She nodded at me again, apparently too terrified to speak.

“Goodnight.” I beamed and left her office feeling light-hearted and rather confused.

This will be a great story to tell my kids one day.

****

I could still hear the distant bangs of escaped firecrackers when I climbed back into Gryffindor tower twenty minutes later.

“You’re back early.” Hermione said to me.

“I know. Listen,” and I told her, Harry and Ron what had happened, by the end of it Hermione mouth was hanging open, Harry looked pissed, and Ron was looking ill.

“That’s illegal! You should report that!” she said loudly.

“Keep your voice down.” I chastised, casting a wary eye around the common room

“But seriously.” Hermione said in a low voice. “She could be arrested-“

“You don’t get it do you Hermione.” Ron said in a quieter voice.

“Get what?”

“She’s part of the ministry.” I said, quieter still.

“And?”

“They’re corrupt!” Harry hissed Fudge hired her to work here to watch Dumbledore! And it’s not like they care about unforgivable curses! The Dementors are working for Voldemort –“ Ron shuddered and Hermione winced. “-They can’t do anything because they’re so oblivious to everything!”

“They’re deliberately ignorant.” I sighed. “And Hermione, aren’t you’re meant to be smart?”

“I was just trying to make sure we’re all on the same page.” She covered smoothly.

“Nice try.” Ron said raising his eye-brows, and making Hermione blush.

“Shush.” She said, doing a cute Hermione half smile thing.

“You shush.” She smirked back at him, and they just stared into each other’s eyes for a bit.

Harry and I exchanged a look as we fought back laughter, and we slipped silently from the table and went to bed.

------------

It was the first day of the Easter holidays and Hermione, as was her custom, had spent a large part of the day drawing up study schedules for the four of us. Harry, Ron and I had let her do it — it was easier than arguing with her and, in any case, they might come in useful. Ron had been startled to discover that there were only six weeks left until our exams.

“How can that come as a shock?” Hermione demanded, as she tapped each little square on Ron’s schedule with her wand so that it flashed a different colour according to its subject.

“I dunno . . .” said Ron, “there’s been a lot going on. . . .”

“Well, there you are,” she said, handing him his schedule, “if you follow that you should do fine.”

Ron looked down it gloomily, but then brightened.

“You’ve given me an evening off every week!”

“That’s for Quidditch practice,” said Hermione.

The smile faded from Ron’s face.

“What’s the point?” he said. “We’ve got about as much chance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad’s got of becoming Minister of Magic. . . .”

Hermione said nothing. She was looking at Harry, who was staring blankly at the opposite wall of the common room while Crookshanks pawed at his hand, trying to get his ears scratched.

“What’s wrong, Harry?”

“What?” he said quickly. “Nothing . . .”

“Mhmm,” I mumbled sardonically.

He seized his copy of Defensive Magical Theory and pretended to be looking something up in the index.

“I saw Cho earlier,” said Hermione tentatively, “and she looked really miserable too. . . . Have you two had a row again?”

“Wha — oh yeah, we have,” said Harry.

Okay, so that’s not it, he didn’t hardly seem to remember.

“What about?”

“That sneak friend of hers, Marietta,” said Harry.

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame you!” said Ron angrily, setting down his study schedule. “If it hadn’t been for her . . .”

Ron went into a rant about Marietta Edgecombe, which no one really seemed to care. Hermione was busy studying now she’d finished our timetables, Harry was nodding along with Ron, but I could tell Harry couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Harry had that expression on his face, the one he’s had before...but where have I seen it?

If only I could slip into his mind like I did in our second year....I concentrated really hard and then –

“Willow, are you constipated or something?” Hermione asked me as she looked up from her work.

“Now that you ask, why yes. Yes I am.” I said while nodding. DING! (That’s the lightbulb in my head by the way) Harry’s face! It’s the one he pulls when he’s thinking about mum and dad...

But why?

What’s happened in the last week or so?

-Harry saw cho. That’s not it.

-my cover’s been blown but Umbridge hasn’t said anything because I’m cool. That’s also not it, but I thought I’d bring it up again.

-Harry’s stopped occlumency lessons. Bingo!

I’m amazing.

Willow Tree, detective.

Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

No.

Anyway, I need to speak to Harry alone...

“I’m going to go study outside near the lake because the common room smells.” I said in an automated voice. “Anyone want to come with?”

“yeah okay.” Hermione said.

“Nah,”

“No.”

“Let me rephrase that.” I said thoughtfully. “I want to subtly talk to Harry away from Ron and Hermione outside. Harry come with me now.”

“Real Subtle.” Harry added, as he grabbed a book and followed me outside.

“So why are you thinking about mum and dad?” I asked him as we left the entrance hall and walked down the sloped grounds in the sun.

“Wha- How’d you-?”

“I can read you like a book.” I smiled softly at him before casting a look around us. No one nearby. That’s good. “I know it has something to do with Snape. Something to do with our parents, and something that’s bad enough to make you feel unsettled and reserved.” Harry gave a sort of half-laugh at me.

“Alright, well...I took an –err- dive into Snape’s pensive, and well, I watched Dad and Sirius at like 15 bullying Snape for no reason while Lupin sort of looked on not doing anything and Wormtail was all excited. Then mum came over – she was Snape’s friend – and she stopped them – hated them – especially dad – and then Snape called her a mudblood and then they weren’t friends.” Harry spoke in one breath, and I honestly had no idea what to say.

“Harry,” I said softly, he looked pretty upset. “Okay, that’s probably why Snape hates you, because Dad was a tool when he was young. But you’re forgetting that you’re not the same as he is. No matter what anyone says! You might be similar in some ways, but that’s referring to him when he grew up! When he was mature. You’re mature before your time Harry. And I hate to say it, because I don’t like you, but you’re a pretty good kid Harry. You’re smart, you’re popular, you’re fairly amusing. You’re nice-“

“But dad was like Malfoy! Worse-“

“Harry, I’m talking, don’t interrupt me.” I smiled. “Who someone is as a kid doesn’t mean it is who they are – and don’t think for a second that dad forced mum into marrying him.” I said reading his next question before he’d finished thinking it. “They loved each other Harry. They might have hated each other as kids, but people grow up! We might grow up one day!” I laughed. “Hermione might marry Malfoy and have bushy blonde haired children one day! They could part with their differences as they age!” Harry was laughing now, and I couldn’t even remember what I said.

“You might say random and stupid things Wil, but you’ll never fail to cheer me up.” Harry hugged me.

“What are sisters for?” I smiled back, and as we walked back to Gryffindor tower, Harry thanked me for the chat and for the first time, in a long time – maybe even ever – I felt as though my brother truly loved me.

 ----

IF YOU LOVE ME, YOU'LL READ THE PREVIEW OF SWEET REVENGE THAT I POSTED!

IT'S A CO-WRITTEN STORY BY MY TWIN, MY SISTER AND I AND IT WOULD BE VERY NICE IF YOU'D READ IT AND TELL US HOW IT IS!

K THANKS BYE

sorry for shouting, I didn't know caps lock was on :P

MEOW!