"I’m telling you—" George started, practically vibrating with frustration as he tried to make Ron understand.
"—That’s not him!" Fred finished sharply, his voice slightly cracking with how desperate he was.
Ron sighed, crossing his arms. "Look, I get you two," he said, his face twisting into something between pity and mild disgust. "You… love him... or whatever." He waved his hand awkwardly. "But have you ever thought maybe you're just finally seeing the real him?"
Fred’s eyes flashed dangerously, but before he could explode, Harry cut in.
"Ron!" Harry said sharply, frowning at him. "Don’t be rude — they’re just worried about Draco."
Fred turned his head sharply, heart thudding, as he heard the click of boots down the corridor. George stiffened at his side.
They all looked up.
There he was — ‘Draco’. He strode past them like he didn’t have a care in the world, robes billowing slightly behind him, his lips curling in a cold sneer.
"Weasleys. Potter," ‘Draco’ said, voice dripping with ice as he passed them without slowing.
George's stomach twisted. That wasn't their dragon. He knew it.
"See, mate?" Ron said, nodding toward the retreating figure. "Case closed. Can we stop now?"
Fred and George exchanged a look — one that Harry, and even Ron, recognized instantly.
The kind of look that usually meant something very stupid was about to happen.
"Fine," George said, voice low and dangerous, already stepping forward.
"We’ll just—" Fred added, his eyes gleaming with reckless certainty.
"—Show you," they finished together.
Before Ron could say another word, Fred and George took off — running full tilt up the hallway after Draco, hearts pounding, instincts screaming.
Harry blinked once before taking off after them. "You’re mental!" he hissed, sprinting to keep up.
Ron groaned miserably but had no choice. "Merlin's bloody beard," he muttered, chasing after them. "Malfoy’s not worth this—!"
But Fred and George weren’t listening anymore. Because deep in their bones, they knew: That boy wasn’t theirs.
The twins caught up to ‘Draco’, each grabbing one of his arms.
“Huh?!” ‘Draco’ snapped, yanking his arms away so violently that Fred and George stumbled back a step.
“Don’t touch me, Weasleys!” he snarled, crossing his arms stiffly over his chest. His glare wasn’t the usual playful smirk they were used to—it was cold, full of loathing.
Fred and George both swallowed hard, something sharp twisting in their chests. Even though this wasn’t their Draco— seeing that expression on his face still hurt.
George was the first to recover, forcing a grin onto his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. They stayed icy. “Come on, Dragon, humor us,” he said lightly. “Tell us apart. We’ll let you go if you do.”
Fred nodded, matching the false cheer, though his sharp gaze raked over ‘Draco’s’ stiff form. He was too tense. Wrong.
Without missing a beat, the twins drew their wands and performed the simple trick they’d done a hundred times—a quick charm that swapped their places over and over. That always tripped people up.
Finished, they waited, arms crossed, expectant.
‘Draco’ sneered at them. “That game is so fucking stupid. You’re completely identical—there’s no point. No one can win!” His voice was sharp, Cold. “Now leave me alone. I’m late for class,” he snapped before whirling around, his robes snapping behind him.
The twins stood frozen, glaring at his retreating form.
Ron wandered up, hands jammed into his pockets. “Told you,” he said with a shrug. “He’s just a dick. Always has been. Look, I’m sorry it took you two this long to figure it out, but—”
Fred and George rounded on him, identical fires blazing in their eyes.
“I told you—” George started.
“Draco can always tell us apart—even before we started dating—” Fred continued.
“—and he’s never got it wrong,” George finished fiercely.
Ron raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. Harry, standing behind him, shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught somewhere between believing them and not wanting to get his hopes up.
Fred and George exchanged a glance, exasperated.
“Fine. We’ll show you,” Fred said, pulling out his wand. He muttered a quick spell, and a shimmering memory projected into the air like a movie reel.
In the memory, Draco stood at his locker, flipping through a battered copy of Monsters and Magic. Fred and George strolled up behind him. Draco smiled faintly without looking, sensing their presence immediately.
“Wanna try and tell us apart?” George teased, leaning lazily against the lockers.
“We’ll give you three Galleons if you can,” Fred added, grinning.
Draco huffed dramatically, feigning annoyance, but the playful sparkle in his grey eyes gave him away. “Go ahead,” he said, waving them on.
The twins performed their usual switching charm and waited, certain he’d get it wrong like everyone else.
But Draco just studied them for a moment, a slow mischievous smile tugging at his mouth. His gaze was sharp, calculating—but fond.
“You’re Fred,” he said, pointing to the twin on the right. “And you’re George.” He pointed left without hesitation.
The twins’ jaws dropped.
Draco chuckled, brushing hair out of his face. “Honestly, this game’s really stupid. You two look identical, but you’re not.” He ticked off on his fingers, smirking: “George’s voice is a little deeper, and he’s taller. Fred has more volume in his hair—it flips back—George’s curves toward the front. It’s quite simple, really.”
He turned away, tossing a wink over his shoulder. “And keep the money, Weasleys. You’ll need it more than meee~” he sang, his voice lilting playfully. The sound of his black-heeled shoes clicked down the hall, his black skirt swishing behind him as he disappeared.
The memory ended. George tucked his wand away.
“See?” the twins said together, folding their arms.
Ron gawked, clearly stunned. Even he messed up who was who sometimes—and they were his brothers.
“Impressive,” Harry admitted, looking thoughtful. “But… if he always got it right before, why did he mess up now?”
Fred and George’s faces darkened.
“Because,” Fred said grimly, “he’s not our Dragon.”
“Like we’ve been telling you—for the last three days,” George added.
Ron shifted awkwardly, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Maybe… maybe we should start looking for him?”
At once, Fred and George whipped toward Harry, twin hope flaring.
“Do you still have the map?” George asked urgently.
Harry nodded and pulled out his wand. With a quiet murmur, the Marauder’s Map unfurled itself into his hands.
“Not out here, mate!” Ron hissed, shoving him into the nearest empty broom closet. The twins squeezed in after him.
Inside the cramped space, Harry opened the map properly. George snatched it from his hands, tapping it urgently.
“Draco Malfoy,” Fred and George said in perfect unison.
The map glowed faintly… and then nothing.
And suddenly, the walls of the broom closet felt much too small, much too suffocating.
What’s it say?” Ron asked, trying to peer over George’s shoulder at the map.
“It says he—” George began, voice tight.
“—Not in the school,” Fred finished for him, the words dropping like a stone in the cramped air.
For a second, nobody moved. Fred felt it first — a cold, gnawing fear eating into his heart.
‘Where was their dragon?’
Ron shifted awkwardly, glancing between them. Even he looked worried now.
“Okay, so... it actually isn’t him,” Ron said, voice small. He swallowed hard. “How long ago did you say he started acting weird?”
“Three days ago,” Fred and George said at the same time.
Harry frowned, thinking quickly. “What did he do the day before?”
Fred’s hands tightened around the map. “He got a letter from—”
“—His father,” George cut in grimly. “Said it was urgent…”
Fred stared at the floor, jaw clenched.
“We said we’d go with him, but...”
“He didn’t want us to miss our Quidditch game.”
Their voices softened toward the end, lost in memory and regret. It was rare to see the twins so still, so haunted.
For a moment, it was deadly silent.
Then George straightened sharply, breaking out of his trance. His face was pale, but burning with fierce determination.
“So we go to Malfoy Manor.”
Before Harry or Ron could even blink, the twins were out the door, moving fast and furious.
Harry exchanged a helpless look with Ron.
“Well, come on,” Harry said grimly. “You know they’ll get into even more trouble if we leave them unsupervised.”
Ron groaned miserably but hurried after him. “Malfoy is so not worth this,” he muttered under his breath.
But deep down — he knew they were already way past the point of no return.