Alright, this is set between WWP: HOS, and WWP: GP... many reviews for this story have been confused, so allow me to explain. Hermione is always right, even when you haven't a clue what it is she's going on about. That is the beauty of Hermione. There. -nods-

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

"So what should we do with them?" Fred asked.

"I dunno, leave them there?"

Whap. Hermione hit George over the head with a rolled up copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Or, OR! We could, er, turn them into fish!"

Whap.

"Maybe we could just drain all the water out," George suggested, peering down into the watering hole.

"But then they'd just be stuck in a damp pit."

"Yeah, but at least they'd stop drowning."

"Fair point."

"Who'd stop drowning? Hey Herm." Harry had just entered the Great Hall and wandered over to where Fred, George and Hermione stood, looking into the deep hole.

"The first years in the pit," Hermione answered. "And don't call me Herm."

"I'm a third year," said a small voice. It was largely ignored.

"Right," Harry said, leaning over to look down at the first years splashing about at the bottom. "Why don't you just lower a rope or something and get them out?"

"We tried that already," Hermione sighed. "Ron's idiot brothers here botched up the spell. Instead of number/size ratio, they did mass/size ratio."

At the blank stares of Harry, Fred, George, and just about everyone in the pit, she sighed.

"Instead of the pit enlarging a little for every object put into it like it should, it enlarges for every bit of something put into it. So for every knot of rope, every drop of water, it's enlarged the same amount." She paused, then added, "…You'd know all this if you paid attention during Spell Theory, you know."

"Right," Fred said abruptly, snapping everyone out of their daze. "Watch carefully Harry." He reached behind the Gryffindor table and pulled out a length of rope.

"Ooh, I love this part," George said, rubbing his hands together eagerly and watching the pit closely. Harry looked on curiously as Fred lowered the rope carefully into the hole. Every inch or so that he lowered it, the hole got drastically deeper, until the yells and pleas of the first years could no longer be heard. As he pulled the rope back out, Harry could hear them getting closer, until their words were clear again.

"Wow! That was like a roller coaster!"

"Yeah, let's NOT do that again."

"What's a roller toaster?"

"Not toaster! Coaster!"

"So you see our problem," Fred said, straightening up and coiling the length of rope as he went. Harry nodded dumbly.

"Wait…" George glanced sharply up at Harry, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Fred, old boy, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Fred looked at George. He looked at Harry. An identical gleam appeared in his eyes.

"Oh no, oh, no no no no no no…" Harry backed away, eyeing them apprehensively. "I don't want to know."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, glancing between him and the twins.

"I know them. I've seen what they've done to Oliver at practice," Harry was darting looks back and forth between the twins. He pointed his finger at George. "That look means run," His finger swung round to point at Fred. "And that look, that one means run faster."

"Aw, c'mon Harry! You don't even know what we want you to do yet!" Fred said cajolingly.

"I don't rightly care," Harry said, backing away.

"What do you want him to do?" Hermione asked, sounding slightly irritated. She didn't like being out of the loop.

"All you've got to do, Harry," George said, advancing slowly toward the skittish boy, as though approaching a wild animal, "Is to fly down there and pull them out. Where's your Gryffindor courage?"

"I left it upstairs, by my toothbrush," Harry said shortly, ducking behind Hermione. "Today I'm using my Ravenclaw intelligence and Slytherin sense of self-preservation."

"Maybe you should whip out some of that Hufflepuff loyalty and stop using your best friend as a shield!" Hermione cried, sidestepping so Harry was in full view again. He gave a 'meep' and ducked behind the Ravenclaw table.

"Besides, I don't think it's a half bad idea," Hermione said, suddenly looking thoughtful.

Harry shot her a betrayed look, and she hurried on. "Once you're in, the hole will stop expanding. It'll be easy enough for you to fly down and grab the poor first years."

"I'm a third year!" The annoyed voice emanating from the pit was, once again, studiously ignored.

"Well then why don't they do it?" Harry asked, still feeling rather betrayed.

"Well Harry," Fred began.

"We're not as good flyers as you," George added.

"-And you know it's true-"

"-So who could be better at a rescue mission-"

"-One that requires fishin'-"

"-Than the Boy-who-lived-to-be-"

"-The youngest Seeker in a century!"

…

"Were they just-"

"Were you two…"

"Rhyming?"

Once they had established that Fred and George were indeed speaking in verse, Harry and Hermione shook themselves out of their momentary shock and got back to the matter at hand.

"Well, Harry, I think its best if you do it," Hermione said in a business-like tone.

"Well, Hermione, I think it would be best if we tried the rope again," Harry said, trying and failing to imitate her tone because of the quiver in his voice. "How do you know they haven't done something to it?"

Ron chose this moment to walk into the Hall, munching on a Pumpkin Pasty.

"Done something to what?" he asked curiously, nearing the pit and glancing down at it non-committally. "Hey Harry, Herm."

"Hi," Harry said, eyeing Fred, who was still watching him carefully, as though he might run away (which he most definitely would, if they hadn't been watching him so carefully).

"Done something to the pit they've gone and trapped the first years in. And don't call me Herm," Hermione said automatically.

"Third! Third year!"

"Ah. Well, I'm off then," Ron continued walking, circled the pit and headed right back toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"I absolutely refuse to have anything to do with this," Ron replied over his shoulder as he disappeared out the door. Harry eyed the exit again.

"Smart bloke, your brother," he said casually, inching his way around the pit. "I think I need to borrow his…quill. Yes, his quill." He broke into a dramatic dash for the exit, which was immediately cut short by his running right into Fred.

"Come, now, Harry, it won't be so bad." he said soothingly. "Listen, I'll just nip up to your dorm and grab your Nimbus, and soon it'll be all over."

Harry wasn't fooled for a second.

"-Please? Dumbledore said we had to have them out by dinner! Do it for the ickle firsties-"

"-Third, dammit!-"

Harry paused. He looked at Fred's pleading face. He looked down into the dark pit at the presumably pleading faces of the first years.

Well maybe he was for a second.

"Well, I suppose if it's for the first years," he sighed. Hermione gave a little laugh of joy.

Ok, so maybe a bit longer than a second.

In the time that it took for Fred to retrieve Harry's broomstick, Harry had changed his mind and made no less than four daring escape attempts, most ending in George nabbing him by the back of his oversized shirt or Hermione glaring at him disapprovingly. It was finally decided to take his glasses away, as he couldn't get far without them. Harry argued that this was actually beneficial to his cause, as now he couldn't see Hermione glaring at him, but his argument was discarded as unimportant when he collided with the Head table and had to sit down for a bit. Harry was just about to give up and make another escape attempt, pilfered glasses be damned, when Fred finally came back.

"Here we are!" he said cheerily, brandishing the broom wildly. "Now let's get a move on. C'mon, Harry! In the dank pit you go!"

"Oh Joy," Harry said tonelessly, standing up and reaching out for his broom. "Let the fun begin."

Harry mounted his broom and eased his way into the pit. It became very deep very quickly, possibly even more so than with the rope. Harry looked at them reproachfully.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"Well, now that you mention it-" Fred said, his eye-gleam firmly in place. "The first years have been in there for quite a while."

"So they'll all be very wet and angry-" George added thoughtfully.

"And I could've sworn I saw a Slytherin or two in there, and you know what they say about first year Slytherins…"

"Yeah, they'll bite right through that jumper of yours; probably break the skin as well."

"Otherwise, we can't think of anything else."

"Gee, thanks for the pep talk," Harry said. He shot Hermione one last accusing look, to which she waved bon-voyage, and flew away down into the depths of the pit.

Two hours later, Harry had still shown no sign of coming back. Fred had disappeared, George was taking a nap on the nearby Hufflepuff table, and Hermione was pacing, wringing her now well read copy of the Daily Prophet in her hands. She was starting to get a bit concerned when she heard voices emanating from the pit.

"Ow! That's my ear you tetchy little- Ow! Stop bloody biting me! I understand you haven't eaten in a while but-"

"Harry! Is that you?" Hermione asked, running over to the pit and feeling immensely relieved.

"No, it's the pit monster," he said distractedly wavering on his broom, "Give me a hand, would you? Fred, or George, whoever, was right about the Slytherins."

"You're a pit monster? But you said you were Harry Potter!" One of the first years sitting on the front of his broom said, looking terrified.

Hermione reached the edge of the pit and stopped short. Harry was hanging in the air, right below the opening, with no less than 6 first years hanging from his broom with him. Two sat awkwardly in front of him, one behind, one dangled from the handle, one from the bristles, and the one that clung to his robes also had a death grip on his ear, causing him and the entire group to tilt slightly to the right. It was quite a sight, and the only thing that kept Hermione from falling on the floor laughing was the thought that he might need her help.

She quickly levitated them off of him, setting them nearby on the floor. Most lay quietly, basking in the glow that came from being on level ground. The Slytherin that had been hanging from Harry's ear was kissing the floor, muttering incoherently.

"Land…mmh…sweet…bloody…revenge…mhmp…"

Harry still floated in the deep pit, and got ready to go back down. Hermione stopped him.

"There are more down there?"

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his ear. "I was just going to bring one or two at a time, you know, but they weren't having that at all. They just grabbed my broom and clung on. A couple fell off, though, so I've got to go back for them. Poor first years."

"Ok, that's it!" One of the recently freed pit dwellers stood up angrily. "I! Am! Not! A! First! Year! I am a third year! Got it? Third! Bloody hell!" He stood panting and glaring at them angrily.

"Of course you are," Hermione said absentmindedly, sparing him barely a glance, before turning back to Harry.

"Harry," Hermione said, studying the pit, her brow furrowed. "Something's not right here."

"What's that?" he asked, distractedly. He had finished rubbing his ear and was now rubbing his arm, where it had been bitten. The 'third' year bawled in frustration and stomped off.

"Harry, the hole should be smaller, especially since you got more than half the first years out." She glanced back at said first years, who were now plotting revenge on a sleeping George.

"Hmm?"

"Harry, get out of the pit and turn out your pockets."

"What?" he asked bewilderedly.

"Just do it."

Confused, Harry flew out of the pit. The very second he did, it shrunk, becoming about two meters deep. The remaining two first years looked up confusedly, one removing a blindfold and rubbing his eyes. It looked as though they had been playing Marco Polo.

Harry gaped at them. The boy who'd been wearing the blindfold blushed. Hermione clucked her tongue, and said, "Pockets, Harry."

Realization dawned on his face as he emptied his pockets. A full bag of Galleons, Knuts and Sickles, several crushed biscuits, and two full boxes of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans appeared.

"Oops…"

AN: -shrugs- Hermione is always right. Yup. -nods-