When I leave the potions room, Fred and George are waiting outside for me. It has been a while since we last spoke, and the air is beginning to get much colder. I'm wearing two pairs of socks since the potions room is temperature-controlled. Freezing would be a better way of putting it.

It might even be warmer outside, but we've all been mandated to hide indoors for the time being.

"Larkin Travers," Fred says, with a smile on his face.

I smile back. "Fred Weasley. And George, of course. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"The pleasure is all ours," Fred points out.

George nods along with him. "How's your hidden talent going?"

"It isn't very hidden if the pair of you know about it," I find myself grinning. Being around them actually makes me smile and sometimes it shocks me. Around them, I don't always feel like lying.

"We have our ways," Fred smiles. As we walk down the stairs, there is only room for two in a row. I head down first, so we don't do an awkward dance where they insist upon trying to smush me in the middle, between the pair of them.

"Headed off to the Great Hall for dinner?" I ask them.

We stop on a landing, waiting for the next staircase to come. I look up at both of them. Smirks take over both their faces.

Fred smiles. "How are you at Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Haven't you watched me in class, since you're both so very observant?" I ask, a smile on my face.

George shrugs.

"Obviously," Fred laughs.

"We're just making small talk," George adds.

The staircase arrives and we begin to walk down.

"Then I'm half-decent," I point out. When I was a little girl, I wanted to become a dueller. Since then, that fantasy has vanished. I'm good, but nowhere near good enough at counter-hexes to do it anywhere professionally.

"Well, shall we test it?" Fred asks from behind me.

We reach the landing. I turn around to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. It makes me feel at ease, soothed even. I find my back hunching. Merlin, I pray that Bronwyn doesn't find me like this. Or worse, Elora.

"What did you have in mind?" I cock my head to the side.

"Did you hear about what happened to the Hufflepuff prefects today?" George asks, looking me up and down.

Other than Cedric Diggory, I don't even know the Hufflepuff prefects. There have got to be like, six of them. "Does it have anything to do with why we're not allowed outside?"

Fred grins. "Mad-Eye's boggart escaped. Apparently, it's roaming the castle grounds. Care to go check it out?"

I purse my lips. It's been a while since I've seen a boggart, and it's never a particularly pleasant experience. A shiver runs up my spine. But then I look at Fred and George. They are both grinning. Fred is wringing his hands and George's knee is shaking, and I can't tell if they're excited or scared.

When I nod my head, the boys turn and head back up the stairs. I follow them through corridors as we peek around the corners, checking for any signs of Filch, since all the professors are at dinner in the Great Hall (except for Mad-Eye, I assume). They lead me down a secret tunnel, and we pop out a hidden rock door. Finally, outside.

"Isn't the fresh air wonderful?" Fred asks as he breathes it in.

"If by wonderful you mean freezing," George quips back.

I normally don't mind the smell of the outdoors, but my body is too close to Fred. All I can smell is firewood.

We manage to begin crawling across the grounds, not daring to cast the Lumos spell for fear of revealing our location. Instead, we sneak around corners and wander through empty fields. The only sound comes from our ragged breaths and the sound of our wet footsteps on the damp grass. We don't dare speak, for betraying our location.

Fred's shoulder keeps bumping against mine, and now I know it's intentional. He's trying to get me to loosen up, I imagine, since I'm wound so tightly.

"Are you excited for the Yule Ball?" Fred asks, his voice just a whisper.

I don't want to lie to him, so instead, I distract him. "Are you going with anyone?"

"Angelina Johnson," he smiles.

I haven't heard of her. She's definitely not a Slytherin.

I lean in closer. "What house is she in?"

"Gryffindor," Fred tells me. "She's in Defense Against the Dark Arts with us. She's always with Katie Bell. Do you know them?"

"Don't think you'd like them too much," George says.

Before I can ask why, Fred shakes his head. "You're just mad you didn't get to ask Angelina first."

"I'm going with Amelie Lacroix," George points out, furrowing his brow. "Beauxbatons. Trust me, I'll be fine."

"That is if she even remembers you asking her," Fred laughs.

Their voices are beginning to get louder. I look around us, but there is a fog rolling in. It's also gotten quite dark. If it weren't for the clouds, surely I would see the constellations above us. I've never particularly into astronomy, but who doesn't like the stars?

"Who are you going with?" George turns to me, a small smile on his face.

I sigh, even though I don't mean to, "you'll laugh at his name if I tell you."

"Well then, now we have to know!" Fred laughs.

"Ander Ander," I tell them. "Durmstrang."

George trips as we are walking, stumbling and barely catching himself. Fred bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over. George, on the other hand, is staring at the ground. His face is white.

I follow his gaze and see Fred's dead body. His corpse is so pale that it's grey, and his eyes are wide open, but empty.

My breath hitches in my throat, and I stumble and fall down on the Fred that is still laughing, taking him down onto the ground with me.

"What's gotten into you both?" Fred demands, turning his head. Then, he sees himself. "Oh."

George lifts his wand. "Riddikulus."

In a flash, the boggart is no longer Fred, but George, lying dead on the ground. I pull myself up as I feel Fred tense behind me, his body almost as rigid as mine.

"Riddikulus," I whisper, my voice hollow.

It flashes and the thing stands. It's me, my own reflection. Only I'm hollowed out. Pale and sickly, almost green flesh. My eyes are shiny. In my arms, I hold a baby with jet black hair and bright eyes like Marcus Flint.

"Please, help me," I whisper to myself. "He's going to hit me when he comes back. I know it."

My hands shake, my grip on my wand loosening. I don't need to ask who is going to hit me. I know that I (she, I guess) am not talking about Marcus.

I'm talking about my brother.

"Riddikulus!" Fred shouts behind me.

The thing shrieks, and in another flash, it is gone.

I bend over on the ground, hitting my knees. My mouth surges, and I can feel myself dry-heaving. Throwing up saliva all over the ground, it spilling onto the grass. There are hands on my hair holding it back.

"Bloody Hell was that?" Fred asks from behind me. "Blimey, I don't remember them being that terrifying."

"Maybe not now, Freddie," George says. He's the one holding on to my hair.

I continue to shake until I pull back and sit on the grass. Even though it probably makes both of us uncomfortable, I put my head on George's shoulder and continue to tremble. I dropped my wand at some point and have no idea where to find it.

"I still hate seeing you dead," George mutters.

"Really, well I quite enjoy- nevermind," Fred cuts himself off from making the joke.

There are footsteps ahead of us, but I'm too much of a chicken to move. I hear Fred's shoes slip in the grass, but he doesn't run like I was expecting. A lantern is approaching us through the fog.

"Who do you think that is?" Fred asks.

"I don't care," it's the first thing that I am able to stay.

Last time, it was a dog that bit me as a child. Not this. Not myself carved out and starving at the hands of a husband who I hate and a brother who hates me.

The light approaches, and on the other side, it's Hagrid.

"Fred? George?" he asks, approaching. "What are you three doing outside the castle?"

"Nasty run-in with a boggart," Fred points out.

Hagrid sighs. He looks around him, before gesturing for us to stand up. "Well, come along then. I'll make some tea before I send you on your way."

George helps me stand up.

"I haven't got my wand," I say.

Fred casts Lumos and he finds it quickly. Our hands touch as he passes it to me, and I realize my skin is numb.

I walk on my own back to Hagrid's hut. Once we make it there, I walk inside, shoes still on, dragging in the dirt. The four of us gather around the small table, and Hagrid makes us tea. Wordlessly.

"What was that, Lark?" Fred asks, looking at me.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," George offers.

"I..." I look down at my hands. They are bright red from the wind and the cold. Maybe they will never heat up again. "I don't know."

I can't help but lie. George doesn't push, leaning back.

Fred is still on the edge of his seat, staring at me.

~~~~~

I really like this chapter. It was the first one that I had planned out. It's quite enjoyable, I think. A little bit grim and dark too. Honestly, I'm a fan.

I hope you like it too!