A pleasant breeze swept through campus a couple weeks later, the sun shining warmly down on Jamie, Fred, George, Annie, and I as we sat at a table in the courtyard.

I flipped through my Herbology book absentmindedly as Jamie and Fred argued about something, their words mere background noise as I stressed about how I was going to convince Draco that I was a worthy confidant. He had been mainly cordial so far this year, relieved that I didn't try and replace him on the team but still not speaking to me much outside the Quidditch pitch.

George was  teaching Annie how to fold parchment owls and charm them to fly around the courtyard, and she watched with wide-eyed amazement, absorbing his every word. When they ran out of parchment, they resorted to tearing pages out of George's Potions textbook and using those, and soon there was an army of paper owls circling overhead, letting out a chorus of tiny hoots. 

George flicked his wand and muttered a spell, and the hooting grew deafening, the clamour shaking the courtyard. Students nearby began running with their hands over their ears to escape the noise, casting irritated glances in our direction as they went. Annie was laughing so hard tears were running down her cheeks, and George grinned, his fingers in his ears.

"Do you know a counter-spell?" he shouted at me over the hubbub. "'Cause I don't think I do."

With a dry smile I drew my own wand. "Silencio Maxima."

The owls fell silent. George shot me a sheepish grin. Fred and Jamie resumed their argument.

Annie wiped at her tears with her sleeve, still laughing. "That was excellent."

Professor Umbridge walked by, then, and frowned at the sight of the owls flying silently overhead. With a flick of her wand they were all incinerated. 

"No!" Annie gasped, dismayed by the ash falling like snow around us.

Umbridge swept her eyes over us. "Disruptions like these will no longer be tolerated. This is a school, Mr. Weasley, and students are here to learn."

We watched her walk away, listening to her kitten heels click against the stone floors.

"Spiteful cow," muttered Jamie. Fred snorted.

"How'd she know it was me?" George grumbled.

"Well, technically she said Mr. Weasley, so out of the five of us she had a forty percent chance of guessing correctly," mused Fred.

"I'm sure her guess was entirely based in statistics," I said.

"Purely mathematical," agreed Fred.

"Almost totally analytical," I followed.

"And in no way historical," added Jamie.

"Or even remotely reputational," concurred Fred.

George gave a begrudging grin. "She did the math and took the gamble."

"Brave soul," sighed Fred.

"Well, I'm off to class," said Annie, picking dejectedly at a speck of ash that had caught on her jumper. "I'll see you."

"'Bye, Annie," we chorussed.

"For you." George handed her his last folded owl, and her face was noticeably brighter as she walked away, the tiny owl situated in the palm of her hand.

There was a pause, then George made to rip out another page from his Potions textbook.

I slapped his hand away. "Stop it! You still need that textbook, you know, we've an entire year of classes left."

He shrugged. "I know all this stuff already."

"Someone else could use your book, then."

He leaned in close. "Textbooks be damned. I can teach you anything you want to know about Potions."

"I didn't mean me!" I scoffed. "I'd be content never looking at another Potions textbook for the rest of my life. I meant Ron or Ginny."

"They can use Fred's." He smiled innocently, ripping out the page and setting to work folding it.

"Never bought that one," Fred said. "Pocketed the money. Snape just thinks I keep forgetting to bring it to class."

George looked up. "It appears Ron and Ginny are on their own, then."

Jamie and I giggled. George and Fred smiled at our amusement. 

I held George's gaze for a moment, admiring the way the late afternoon sunlight set his rust-coloured hair aglow, his warm brown irises illuminated and the light dusting of freckles across his nose more visible than usual. 

He really is lovely, I thought to myself. 

He raised his eyebrows at me. I blushed, caught staring, and looked back down at my textbook, smiling to myself as I saw his latest charmed owl fly away out of the corner of my eye.

"Here, eat this." Fred held out a wrapped sweet.

"No," I replied offhandedly, turning the page in my book.

He changed tracks. "McDowell, eat this."

Jamie shrugged and took the sweet.

I turned to her in alarm. "No, wait, don't—"

It was too late. Jamie looked frightened as the three of us stared intently at her, awaiting the effects of whatever it was Fred had given her.

Then her perfect skin broke out into nasty red hives, covering her face and neck and spreading down her shoulders and arms. She looked down at her arm with wide eyes, her mouth falling open. 

Fred made a noise of delight.

"What in the bloody hell did you do to me?" Jamie's voice was quiet, the anger lacing her words rather frightening.

"We're still working on perfecting our Skiving Snackboxes," said Fred, leaning across the table to take a closer look at Jamie's hives. 

"But I'd say we're getting pretty close." George grinned. Then he caught my eye and sighed, digging a small tube of salve out of his bookbag. "They'll go away in a bit, but rub this on any that linger and you'll be good as new."

Jamie snatched the tube from him, looking furiously from Fred to George to me before standing and stomping away from the table.

Fred watched her go thoughtfully. "D'you reckon she'd go out with me, if I asked nicely?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "I think you'll be lucky if she ever speaks to you again after the stunt you just pulled."

"I've been told I can be quite persuasive," said Fred with a mischievous smile.

"She's also still dating Lucian, so there's another obstacle for you," I said dryly.

Fred scoffed. "I could take Bole."

"In what, a foot race?" I asked incredulously. "Lucian is pure muscle, and rather impressive in a duel. I'd advise against fighting him in any way."

"I'll trip him at the start line to give you a head start, Freddie," George offered.

"That ought to win McDowell over, right Doylie?" Fred grinned. "When she sees how fast I am, she won't be able to resist."

The three of us burst into laughter.

"That Fever Fudge worked like a charm, though, Georgie," said Fred once we'd recovered. "I'd say it's about finalised."

"The timing has definitely improved since our last batch," agreed George. "Let's see if we can get it down just a tad more before we sell."

Fred hummed in agreement. "Think McDowell will be up for another trial run?"

George snorted.

"You can't keep testing these things on people," I scolded the twins.

"Then who should we test them on? House elves?" scoffed Fred.

"At least find willing test subjects, people who know what they're signing up for."

"The first years ought to do, right, Freddie?" said George.

"Right you are, Georgie, can't believe we haven't thought of them before now," said Fred.

I looked between them, wondering if I'd possibly made the situation worse. "As long as they know what they're getting into."

"They'll be thrilled," assured Fred.

"Ecstatic," said George.

I turned back to my reading. George took a piece of my hair between two fingers and twirled it gently. I glanced up at him, wrinkling my nose as he leaned over and kissed my forehead.

Fred made a noise of disgust. I smiled at him, my eyes drifting to where Draco and Blaise stood on the other side of the courtyard, staring at me with expressions similar to Fred's. I watched as he and Blaise disappeared into the castle, and my heart sank as I realised what I needed to do.

"George," I said. "I think we need to break up."

Fred's face steeled, his ears turning red.

George's soft smile vanished, his expression turning to one of hurt. "Come again?"

"Not really break up," I said quickly, grabbing George's hand and holding it tightly. I could have started this conversation better in about a million other ways. "I don't want that at all."

George relaxed slightly, his gaze turning quizzical as he glanced at Fred.

"Sorry," I pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "I should have thought this through before I spoke."

"Clearly," muttered Fred.

"What I mean to say is... I think the key to getting to Draco might be distancing myself from people he doesn't like."

"Meaning us." George frowned slightly.

"You two, Lee, Hermione..." I trailed off, realising just how many people I would need to cut off. "All of Gryffindor, really."

"So, what?" There was a crease between George's eyebrows still. "It's starting to sound like you do want to end things."

"I don't." I spoke earnestly. "George, please believe me, I don't want that. We could still try and meet up, but we'd have to keep it sort of... secret."

George's eye twitched.

"I really think this is what we need to do," I insisted, lowering my voice. "The Order gave me a job to do, and I intend to see it out. But I need you to help me."

Fred and George exchanged a glance.

"Fine," said George.

"But if we're going to do this, we're going to really do it," said Fred.

* * * * * *

Our first Quidditch match of the season was against Gryffindor. The night before the match, I sat in the Slytherin common room with Miles, going over our strategy for the next day.

"Goyle's got quite the arm, and his aim has gotten impossibly better over the last two weeks," said Miles. "I think he'd be best guarding Bell. She isn't as fast as Johnson, and I think he could take her."

"I agree." I nodded. "We'll split Crabbe between the others, then, and I'll have Pucey assist when he can."

Draco walked in, then, Goyle in tow, and spied us talking. "Preparing for tomorrow?"

"We are," I spared a glance at Miles. "Trying to figure out how to divide and conquer."

"Think Weasley'll try and knock you off your broom again?" Draco teased.

I looked at him sharply, narrowing my eyes. "If he does, I'll hex him."

Miles and Draco exchanged a look of surprise. 

"I'd have thought you'd want him to kiss it and make it better," Miles tried for a joke, but his tone didn't quite hit the mark.

I curled my lip. "Goyle, if George Weasley or his grimy brother so much as look at me, make sure they regret it."

Goyle looked mildly confused. 

Miles raised his eyebrows. "I take it there's trouble in paradise."

"I've left paradise, Miles, and entered the real world," I sneered. "Merlin knows what I was thinking, hanging out with that lot."

Draco took a seat at the table next to me, an impressed look on his face. "Can't tell you how good it is to hear you've come to your senses, Doyle. I'd started to worry about you."

I smirked, holding Draco's gaze for a beat before turning back to Miles.

Later that night, I sat cross-legged on my bed, pretending to read my Herbology textbook as my mind wandered to George. As pathetic as it sounded, I missed him already. It felt as if I'd just gotten him back, only to lose him again.

Jamie raced in, her hair askew and her eyes wide.

I looked her over, alarmed. "Where have you been? You look like you took on the Whomping Willow in a fistfight."

"I was down at the Quidditch pitch!" she said breathlessly, gulping for air.

I glanced out the window. "This late at night? It's a miracle you didn't get caught."

"I know, but I had to!" She sat on the edge of her bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. "Is it true you broke up with George?"

My face fell. I couldn't tell her the truth without explaining everything. "Yeah, it is."

Jamie moved over to sit on my bed, pulling me into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry. I was just starting to like him, and that brother of his, too—although, if I'm being honest, I still can't tell them apart. Not that it matters now, I suppose."

I returned her embrace, giving her a sad smile. But then my eyes returned to her mess of hair, and I frowned. "But why were you at the Quidditch pitch in the middle of the night?"

"Well," she started, then paused, apparently trying to decide where she wanted to start her story. "I was in Potions class this evening, and Fred's in that class. I sit kind of close to him, a seat behind and two over. And I overheard him talking to his friend, the one that does the Quidditch announcements."

Jamie took a deep breath, then, and I raised my eyebrows, having zero idea where this was going.

"And he was absolutely ragging on you, Mackie, being mean, and he was so loud about it! So when class ended I was walking over to jinx his shoelaces or something, you know, because nobody talks bad about you and gets away with it—"

I grinned at my friend's loyalty.

"—and then I heard him telling his friend that he and George have a plan to get back at you, that George is still angry with you!"

I gave a wonderous shake of my head, still completely confused. "What was the plan?"

"Something to do with the match tomorrow!" Jamie's eyes were wide.

I frowned, wondering if maybe the twins and I should have set some ground rules when we agreed to do this. "Fred didn't say what they were going to do, though? You don't think they'd do something like jinx our broomsticks, do you?"

"That's why I went to the Quidditch pitch!" Jamie smiled proudly. "To investigate!"

"And what did you find?"

"Well, I broke into the Slytherin locker room and checked your broomsticks to make sure they were safe, but the lock hadn't been tampered with, so it must have been something else." She thought for a moment. "It was rather dark in there, and I was scared of getting caught, but I didn't see anything out of the ordinary."

"So..." I pondered the idea. "I suppose we'll see what they had planned tomorrow, then."

"No matter, though!" Jamie's smile grew. "I already got them back for you!"