Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter *sob*

Smirking, I quickly flick my wand over the sleeping form of McGonagall, silently praying that she won't wake up.

I don't actually believe in God. That's more of a Muggle thing, but if there is a god out there, then they must have heard me, because all she does is roll over, revealing the new colourful decorations added to her face and the brilliant new hairstyle and bright garment to match.

If I had a camera with me - and a death wish - I would take a photo, but I'll have to live with her walking into the Great Hall looking like she served as a very under-talented five-year-old's drawing board. I know she'll try every single spell in the book, only to find that the spell will last for twenty-four hours. Maybe I can get a camera before the spell wears off.

I creep backwards out of the room to meet my twin, who gives a relieved sigh before whispering, "I thought she'd killed you! You took forever."

Together we head back for the Gryffindor common room to hopefully get a little sleep before the excitement at breakfast tomorrow.

I glance at the map in George's hand; everything's clear, and Filch is far away, guarding the spot of Mrs. Norris's attack again. Snape's wandering around his office, and everyone else is safely in their dormitories except the few unlucky ones who have been Petrified, and I somehow doubt they're going to catch us.

We reach the common room and completely ignore the Fat Lady's questions as to where we've been. We both start heading to bed, and then I notice something on the map.

In the second-year dormitories, all the boys are asleep in their beds, but Ron's bed has two figures in it. The small writing clearly says Ronald Weasley, and next to it, almost on top of my brother's dot, another dot says Peter Pettigrew.

"Oi, George, look at this," I say, pointing to the offending spot.

George looks at it for a moment before smirking slightly and saying, "Why, I didn't know our little bro swung that way. I wonder when he's going to come out of the closet."

We both give a quick laugh. A part of my mind wonders who Peter Pettigrew is, and why I've never heard of him except in some distant, half forgotten memory, but I don't bother thinking much on it. Two in the morning isn't the time to think.

Three years later when George and I find out the truth - Sirius Black's innocence, the betrayal of Peter Pettigrew, and where he'd been hiding for all those years, as Scabbers, the little rat no one took a second glance at.

As the truth comes forward, I think back to years ago, an almost-forgotten memory at the back of my mind, of a map and the mysterious name that showed up in my brother's bed.

Please tell me what you think