Disclaimer: I will own Harry Potter when the Chudley Canons finish top of the league. :P

Author's Note: This story will have one chapter for each of Fred and George's siblings (not including each other) and all of them will be set before Fred and George started Hogwarts. I'm not sure yet if it will be in chronological order or just random, sorry… Also, I haven't planned chapters for Molly or Arthur, but I'm happy to give something a go if anyone wants. Oh, and if you have a moment to spare, I'd really love a review! Tips, comments, constructive criticism... Anything is welcome. :D

Darkness had fallen over the Burrow, and the house lay quiet and still, lit only by the moon overhead. The only sound to be heard in the various rooms was the gentle breathing of sleeping figures. That is, in every room but one. Fred and George, the four year old twins, were not in fact asleep as their parents assumed. Instead, they were holding a fevered conversation in low voices, sitting huddled together under the quilt on George's bed, which they had fashioned into a makeshift tent.

"It's not real," Fred was saying. "It can't be, we'd have noticed it."

George didn't look convinced. "But what if it's just really quiet?"

"Maybe we should just look."

"Maybe."

"All right."

"OK."

Despite this agreement, neither of them made a move to look over the side of the bed. Fred and George just stayed firmly in the middle of the mattress, careful not to let their toes dangle off the edge. As everyone knows, that is the safest position to be in when you're in a bedroom at night; it keeps your ankles well out of the way of the jaws of some unseen monster, which might be looking for a taste of human flesh.

After a couple more minutes of silence, George began to nod off to sleep on Fred's shoulder. Fred gave him a sharp jab in the ribs.

"Charlie says it only bites when you're asleep," he hissed.

George blinked sleepily. "Thought you said you didn't believe in it anyway."

There was another pause, as Fred's brain whirred, trying to come up with a response that would leave his reputation of bravery unscathed.

"Bill will know," he whispered eventually.

George nodded, and they threw the sheets off. Plucking up all their courage, they leaped off the bed together, landing half way across the room, and ran for the door, scrambling over each other to get out of the danger zone (otherwise known as their room).

Bill meanwhile was happily asleep in his bed, completely unaware of the drama taking place across the corridor. He was home from Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays of his second year, and he was rather enjoying the chance to have a good night's sleep undisturbed by the snoring of his dorm-mates. However, the fates seemed to be against him as he was woken from his slumber by two weights landing heavily on his chest.

"Oof," grunted Bill, his eyes snapping open immediately.

He jerked backwards in shock as he was met by a pair of identical, freckled faces hovering just a couple of inches above his own.

Perhaps you can go back to sleep with them on top of you, his sleep fuddled brain told him hopefully. Bill closed his eyes again, sinking quickly back into sleep, when-

"Bill," one of the twins said urgently.

"Wake up," added the other, poking him.

Bill lay still, showing no signs of life. The twins' patience ran out after only a few seconds, and he received another couple of pokes. A small hand tapped him on the cheek several times.

"What do you want?" he groaned eventually, lifting his head up.

"There's a dragon in our room," one of them (he thought it was Fred) informed him.

"What made you think that?" Bill asked.

He raised himself up onto one elbow, pulling the twins off him so they were sitting on the edge of the bed. Fred and George looked at each other quickly before launching into the story.

"Charlie was telling us about dragons-"

"And he said some of them liked the dark-"

"And our room's dark-"

"And he said one might be under a bed-"

"And it might eat us when we fall asleep!"

"Or burn us alive!"

"Or burn us dead!"

Bill almost laughed, but he stopped himself when he saw that his little brothers looked like they were on the verge of tears. Bill sat up and gave them each a one-armed hug. He well remembered his own distress when he'd been a similar age and had thought there was an angry Hippogriff in his closet. He'd gone tearing into his parents' room in the middle of the night and burst into tears, eventually falling asleep in their room instead of his own. He gave a wry smile at the memory and turned back to the twins.

"There's no dragon," he told told them, patting one of them on the shoulder. "Charlie's just winding you up."

Fred and George exchanged another skeptical look.

"How can you know?" Fred pointed out.

"There could be a dragon there. You haven't checked," said George in an accusatory voice.

Bill sighed. "Fine. I'll come and look. And then you're going back to sleep."

"Thank you, Bill," they chorused.

Bill dragged himself out of his bed and padded across the hallway to the twins' room, making a mental note to give Charlie a punch in the face the next morning. And possibly smuggle a gnome into his room, just to ruin his night as well. Bill quickly shook off these thoughts and entered the bedroom, followed by Fred and George, who hung back near the doorway, watching him cross over to Fred's bed. Bill bent down on his knees and ran a hand underneath the bed, carefully feeling around the very edges to put Fred and George's minds at rest. He then did the same to George's bed on the other side of the room. He felt rather proud of himself for resisting the urge to shriek and pretend to have been bitten by something.

"Nothing there," he told his brothers finally, standing up and dusting himself down.

At last, Fred and George seemed satisfied, and they each got into their own beds. Bill made to leave the room, hoping he could catch another few hours of sleep before he had to get up again in the morning. But as he opened the door-

"Bill?" came a quiet voice. It was George.

"What now?" said Bill wearily.

"Can you stay here for a bit?" Fred asked.

"There's no bloody dragon."

"Language, Bill," scolded Fred, sounding very much like his mother.

"Can you just stay anyway?" said George. "In case it comes back."

"Yeah, 'cause it's dark and they like the dark."

There goes my night of sleep. Forget gnomes, I'm going to murder Charlie.

Bill sat down heavily on the floor between the two beds, scowling to himself. Fred and George looked instantly happier and settled down, with Bill on dragon watch. Their breaths gradually grew deeper and evened out as they drifted off into sleep. By this point, Bill had decided the floor was comfortable enough to use as a bed, and he didn't have the energy to get up and go right the way back to his own room. He lay his head down on the carpet and, within seconds, had begun to snore softly along with his little brothers.