Thick as Thieves

Days. Weeks. Years?

I couldn't remember how long it had been since I blew up at Fred, but it felt like forever had passed. Before, I was the one doing the avoiding, but this time Fred steered clear every time he saw me enter a room.

Then there was George. George was totally torn in two with his best friends fighting, and I hated myself for putting him in such a terrible position. He tried convincing me that Fred was just Fred, sometimes selfish and oblivious to all things around him. 'He's not doing it on purpose,' George tried so desperately to convince me, but my heart didn't care.

Pain was pain, intentional or not.

If it wasn't for George or the fact it was Ron's first match as Keeper, I probably wouldn't have even bothered to go watch the Quidditch match against Slytherin. However, I felt obligated to.

"You're going to be brilliant," I encouraged Ron.

Ginny nodded, "Just breathe."

Hermione, Ginny, and I went down to wish the Gryffindor team good luck and to give our strongest support to Ron. George was tying up his boots, and Harry was standing by Ron, giving him a pep talk. I wasn't sure where Fred was, but I could only guess he was with Angelina since she was missing as well.

"Thanks," Ron choked out.

I frowned, trying to think of something helpful to say. "Uh, why not just try picturing Malfoy's smug smile getting smacked off his face when Gryffindor wins!" I suggested with a shrug.

Harry chuckled and nodded.

"Well, we'll be in the stands cheering you on." I said before giving George a small wave. "Good luck!"

As we turned to leave, I walked straight into Fred. My eyes were wide, and I felt like all the air had been sucked from my lungs.

"Mia," Fred mumbled, the corner of his lips pulled down. "I…"

"Fred!" Katie Bell called. "Come on, the match is starting!"

I sighed before moving past Fred, my heart throbbing with each step I took. Hermione and Ginny led the way as the three of us walked up to the stands to find a good seat. Once we were settled in, we watched as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the players soared into the sky.

"The Quaffle is caught by Alicia Spinnet, and she's heading straight to the—ouch!" Lee Jordan, commentator, sharply sucked in his breath. "A Bludger by Goyle nearly knocks her off her broom, but she's getting right back up! Amazingly strong girl, she is, and rather beautiful—"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall scolded him.

Lee replied without regret, "Sorry, Professor. Just being supportive."

I watched as the players zoomed around, flashes of green and red everywhere. Harry was high in the air, searching carefully for the snitch. Ron was anxiously teetering on his broom, thankful the chasers were doing such a good job keeping the Quaffle in the Slytherin's end of the pitch. Meanwhile, Fred and George were batting Bludgers in every direction.

"Pucey snatches the Quaffle, and he's making his way towards Ron. He's the newest member of the Gryffindor team, brother to beaters Fred and George, and a promising addition to the team!" Lee cheered. "Come on, Ron!"

With wide eyes, the three of us were leaning on the edge of our seats, hoping Ron would block his first shot. However, before the chaser made it to Ron, the Slytherins began singing:

"Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing,
Weasley is our King."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at the Slytherin side, while Hermione frowned. "Oh no." I groaned, listening to the Slytherins taunt Ron. I almost hoped he couldn't hear, but the way they were nearly screaming would make it impossible to ignore.

Ron raised his arms, trying to shield the gold ring, but his efforts only made things worse. Pucey threw the Quaffle straight through Ron's arms and passed the goal.

"Slytherin scores!" Lee announced bitterly. "Bad luck, Ron."

"Weasley was born in a bin
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley will make sure we win
Weasley is our King!"

"Nice Bludger from George Weasley! Katie Bell catches the Quaffle and passes it to Johnson, and she—oh!—drops it!" Lee sighed. "Warrington has the Quaffle now, and he's flying fast past Bell. She's about to intervene! Closer, just a a little closer and—damn! Rotten move by the good for nothing beater—"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall snapped.

"Sorry, Professor." Lee sighed. "Kinda."

My eyes focused on Harry, and I watched as he suddenly zipped forward. The way he was moving, I knew he must have spotted the snitch, and just in time by the looks of it. Slytherin scored three more times, and at this rate, they might win even if Harry caught the snitch.

"Angelina Johnson has the Quaffle. She's closing in on the goal, and… she misses! She's really not on top of her game today." Lee frowned. "Montague gets the Quaffle and passes it to Adrian Pucey. Warrington is on his left, and it looks like they've got something up their sleeves."

"Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King."

The Slytherin students were cheering their awful lyrics, and by the looks of it, Ron was just about to give up and dive off of his broom. It wasn't looking too good for the Gryffindor team, but suddenly, Harry was diving towards the ground. Hermione, Ginny, and I got to our feet and cheered as we saw him race past Malfoy and reach his hand out.

"Harry Potter catches the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!!" Lee applauded as he clapped his hands together. The final score is Slytherin with ninety, and Gryffindor with one hundred and sixty! Close game, but Gryffindor pulled through!"

The Gryffindor side was cheering happily as the players began to descend to the ground. However, out of the blue, a Bludger came and knocked Harry clear off of his broom. Thank Merlin he was only a few feet up! My eyes quickly traveled back to see Crabbe with his bat raised.

Hermione and Ginny winced, and the rest of the Gryffindor side booed angrily. My eyes narrowed, and I excused myself to scurry down to the pitch. Wouldn't hurt to plant a few traps in the Slytherin changing rom.

As I was about to slip into the changing room, I noticed Malfoy hovering on with a sneer on his face. Ron looked ashamed, but Harry looked ready to smack him. Unable to stop myself, I wandered over.

"We wanted to write a couple of verses," Malfoy explained, a smirk plastered on his face, "but we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly—we wanted to sing about his mother, you see…" Fred and George were walking over and heard what Malfoy said. Fred gritted his teeth together, and George's hands curled into fists. "We couldn't fit in useless loser either—for his father, you know…"

Fred lunged forward, but Alicia and Katie caught him by his robes. Before George could go anywhere, Harry and I held him back.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry spat at him.

His smile only widened, "But you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter? Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley's hovel smells okay… or perhaps, you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and the Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it."

"Malfoy," I threatened angrily while reaching into my robes for my wand, "you better shut your mouth!"

"Here comes the real threat!" Malfoy chuckled darkly, sharing an evil look of amusement between him and Goyle. "Or then again, maybe not. Looking at where your mudblood father ended up, I shouldn't expect much more from you."

Without a moment's hesitation, I released George and raised my wand. "Everte Statum!" I hissed, pointing my wand at Malfoy and watching him get thrown backward and off of his broom.

Harry had released George, and the two of them pounced on Malfoy with their fists raised. Before I could join in and smash Malfoy's face into the dirt, a spell knocked me over.

"IMPEDIMENTA!"

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" Madam Hooch shrieked, her wand in one hand and her whistle in the other. Malfoy was on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody. I was lying in the dirt, my clothes dirty and my back sore. George's lip was swelling, and Harry's glasses were cracked. Meanwhile, Fred was still being restrained by all three chasers. “I’ve never seen behavior like this—back up to the castle and straight to your Head of House’s office! Go! Now!” She glared at George, Harry, and I.

We marched up to the castle. I quietly cast a spell to fix Harry's glasses, and he thanked me softly. The three of us didn't say another word until we made it to McGonagall's office. If I thought I'd seen her mad before, I was terribly mistaken. She looked even more mad than the time the twins and I made the candles in the Great Hall drip owl poop on the Slytherin table.

“Well?” She demanded. “Three against one! I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Explain yourselves at once.”

“Malfoy provoked us,” Harry answered stiffly.

“Provoked you?” McGonagall shouted. She slammed her fist onto her desk. “He’d just lost, hadn’t he? Of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you three—”

“He was insulting my family,” George defended angrily. “And Harry’s mother and Mia's father!”

“But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you three decided to give an exhibition of Muggle dueling, did you?” bellowed McGonagall. “Have you any idea what you’ve—”

“Hem, hem.”—

Our heads spun around to see Umbridge wrapped in a bright pink cloak. Never before had a color looked more menacing.

“May I help, Professor McGonagall?” Umbridge asked, her voice sickeningly sweet.

“Help?” McGonagall repeated in a contained, but furious voice. “What do you mean ‘help’?”

“Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority.”

I was just waiting for the steam to burst through McGonagall’s ears and nose. “You thought wrong.” McGonagall turned her back on Umbridge. “Now, you three had better listen closely. I do not care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behavior was disgusting and I am giving you each a week’s worth of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if any of you ever—”

“Hem, hem.”

"Yes?!"

“I don't believe detentions are a severe enough punishment,” Umbridge explained, her eyes dancing with wicked delight.

McGonagall’s eyes flew open. “But unfortunately it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores.”

“Well, actually, Minerva, I think you’ll find that what I think does count." Umbridge grinned devilishly as she presented McGonagall with a slip of parchment. "Educational Decree Number Twenty-five… The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class.

"I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick," Umbridge continued happily, "Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, and I think to be safe, this young man's twin should be banned as well. If his teammates had not restrained him, I am sure he would have attacked Mr. Malfoy."

"But he didn't!" I snapped, shooting daggers at Umbridge.

Umbridge faced me, her face darkening in disgusting delight, "Ah yes, Miss Thorne… the provoker."

"Provoker?" I nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of her words. "Malfoy was the one who—"

She cut me off, "If I do recall, you were the one two use your wand against Mr. Malfoy, who was completely unarmed. That's terrible behavior, Miss Thorne, and I do not tolerate disobedience. I believe a week of detention with me will quickly correct your inexcusable actions." Ignoring my hateful stares, she continued, "I will want their broomsticks confiscated, of course. I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. But I am not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall. The rest of the team can continue playing. Well…good afternoon to you, and I will be seeing you tomorrow, Miss Thorne, for your first detention.”

With that, she exited the room leaving all four of us, even McGonagall, fuming in our seats.