I seem to have a habit of going after threesomes these days, don't I? Interesting, isn't it. Hmm. 

Well, anyway, Terry thought that I was unlikely to have any trouble with getting the memory from Slughorn at all. Unfortunately he also had no idea what a Horcrux was. 

"He loves you." He said over breakfast. "Won't refuse you anything, will he? Not his little Potions Princess. Just hang back after class this afternoon and ask him." 

Hermione, however, took a gloomier view.

"He must be determined to hide what really happened if Dumbledore couldn't get it out of him." She said in a low voice, as we stood in the deserted, snowy courtyard at break. "Horcruxes... Horcruxes... I've never even heard of them..."

"You haven't?"

I was disappointed; I had hoped that at least Hermione might have been able to give me a clue as to what Horcruxes were.

"They must be really advanced Dark magic, or why would Voldemort have wanted to know about them? I think it's going to be difficult to get the information, Daze, you'll have to be very careful about how you approach Slughorn, think out a strategy..."

And as the Insurgents were entering our next Potions class late as usual, Slughorn was calling for silence from the front of the room.

"Settle down, settle down, please! Quickly, now, lots of work to get through this afternoon! Golpalott's Third Law... who can tell me -? But Miss Granger can, of course!"

Hermione recited at top speed: "Golpalott's-Third-Law-states-that-the-antidote-for-a-blended-poison-will-be-equal-to-more-than-the-sum-of-the-antidotes-for-each-of-the-separate-components."

"Precisely!" Slughorn beamed. "Ten points for Gryffindor! Now, if we accept Golpalott's Third Law as true..."

I was going to have to take Slughorn's word for it that Golpalott's Third Law was true, because I had not understood any of it. Nobody apart from Terry and Hermione seemed to be following what Slughorn said next, either.

"... Which means, of course, that assuming we have achieved correct identification of the potion's ingredients by Scarpin's Revelaspell, our primary aim is not the relatively simple one of selecting antidotes to those ingredients in and of themselves, but to find that added component which will, by an almost alchemical process, transform these disparate elements -" 

Fred placed his hand on my bare thigh under the table. I opened my mouth, turning to him, and I closed it again as he waggled his eyebrows at me, smirking slightly. 

"... And so," finished Slughorn, "I want each of you to come and take one of these phials from my desk. You are to create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good luck, and don't forget your protective gloves!"

Hermione had left her stool and was halfway towards Slughorn's desk before the rest of the class had realised it was time to move, and by the time I returned to my table, she had already tipped the contents of her phial into her cauldron and was kindling a fire underneath it.

Apprehensive, I uncorked the poison I had taken from Slughorn's desk, which was a garish shade of pink, tipped it into my cauldron, and lit a fire underneath it. I didn't have the faintest idea what I was supposed to do next. I glanced at the twins, who shrugged at me. 

"You sure the Prince hasn't got any tips?" George muttered to me.

I pulled out my trusty copy of Advanced Potion-Making and turned to the chapter on Antidotes. There was Golpalott's Third Law, stated word for word as Hermione had recited it, but not a single illuminating note in the Prince's hand to explain what it meant. Apparently the Prince, like Hermione, had had no difficulty understanding it.

"Nothing." I said gloomily.

Hermione was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials. More to avoid watching this desperation-inciting sight than anything else, I bent over the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned a few pages with unnecessary force.

And there it was, scrawled right across a long list of antidotes.

'Just shove a bezoar down their throats.' 

I stared at these words for a moment. Hadn't I once, long ago, heard of bezoars? Hadn't Snape mentioned them in our first ever Potions lesson? 'A stone taken from the stomach of a goat, which will protect from most poisons.'

It was not an answer to the Golpalott problem, but this was a moment for desperate measures. I hastened towards the store cupboard and rummaged within it, pushing aside unicorn horns and tangles of dried herbs until I found, at the very back, a small cardboard box on which had been scribbled the word 'Bezoars.' 

I opened the box just as Slughorn called, "Two minutes left, everyone!" Inside were half a dozen shrivelled brown objects, looking more like dried-up kidneys than real stones. I seized one, put the box back in the cupboard, and hurried back to my cauldron.

"Time's... UP!" Slughorn called genially. "Well, let's see how you've done! Blaise... what have you got for me?"

Slowly, Slughorn moved around the room, examining the various antidotes. Nobody had finished the task, although Hermione was trying to cram a few more ingredients into her bottle before Slughorn reached her. Harry had given up completely, and was merely trying to avoid breathing in the putrid fumes issuing from his cauldron. I stood there waiting, the bezoar clutched in a slightly sweaty hand.

Slughorn reached our table last. He sniffed Terry's potion and passed on to George's with a grimace. 

"And you, Daisy." He said. "What have you got to show me?"

I held out my hand, the bezoar sitting on my palm.

Slughorn looked down at it for a full ten seconds. I wondered, for a moment, whether he was going to shout at me. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"You've got a nerve, girl!" He boomed, taking the bezoar and holding it up so that the class could see it. "Oh, you're like your mother... well, I can't fault you... a bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all these potions!"

Hermione, who was sweaty-faced and had soot on her nose, looked livid. Her half-finished antidote, comprising fifty-two ingredients including a chunk of her own hair, bubbled sluggishly behind Slughorn, who had eyes for nobody but me.

"And you thought of a bezoar all by yourself, did you, Daisy?" She asked through gritted teeth.

"That's the individual spirit a real potion-maker needs!" Slughorn said happily, before I could reply. "Just like her mother, she had the same intuitive grasp of potion-making, it's undoubtedly from Lily she gets it... yes, Daisy, yes, if you've got a bezoar to hand, of course that would do the trick... although as they don't work on everything, and are pretty rare, it's still worth knowing how to mix antidotes..."

The only person in the room looking angrier than Hermione was Floppy, who, I was pleased to see, had spilled something that looked like cat sick over himself. Before either of them could express their fury that I had come top of the class by not doing any work, however, the bell rang.

"Time to pack up!" Slughorn said. "And an extra ten points to Gryffindor for sheer cheek!"

Still chuckling, he waddled back to his desk at the front of the dungeon.

~~~ 

Meanwhile, the Hogwarts library had failed Terry for the first time in living memory. 

"I haven't found one single explanation of what Horcruxes do!" He told me. "Not a single one! I've been right through the restricted section and even in the most horrible books, where they tell you how to brew the most gruesome potions - nothing! All I could find was this, in the introduction to Magick Most Evil - listen - 'of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction' ... I mean, why fucking mention it, then?" He said impatiently, slamming the old book shut; it let out a ghostly wail. "Oh, shut up." Terry snapped, stuffing it back into his bag.

The snow melted around the school as February arrived, to be replaced by cold, dreary wetness. Purplish-grey clouds hung low over the castle and a constant fall of chilly rain made the lawns slippery and muddy. The upshot of this was that the sixth-years' first Apparition lesson, which was scheduled for a Saturday morning so that no normal lessons would be missed, took place in the Great Hall instead of in the grounds.

When Terry and I arrived in the Hall we found that the tables had disappeared. Rain lashed against the high windows and the enchanted ceiling swirled darkly above us as we assembled in front of Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout, and a small wizard whom I took to be the Apparition Instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colourless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair, and an insubstantial air, as though a single gust of wind might blow him away. I wondered whether constant disappearances and reappearances had somehow diminished his substance, or whether this frail build was ideal for anyone wishing to vanish.

"Good morning." The Ministry wizard said, when all the students had arrived and the Heads of House had called for quiet. "My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry-Apparition-Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time -" 

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" Professor McGonagall barked.

Everybody looked round. Floppy had flushed a dull pink; he looked furious as he stepped away from Spieler, with whom he appeared to have been having a whispered argument. I glanced at Snape, who also looked annoyed, though I strongly suspected that this was less because of Floppy's rudeness than the fact that McGonagall had reprimanded one of his house.

"- By which time, many of you may be ready to take your test." Twycross continued, as though there had been no interruption. "As you may know, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The Headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practise. May I emphasise that you will not be able to Apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try. I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."

There was a great scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. The Heads of House moved among the students, marshalling them into position and breaking up arguments. 

I could only hope that whatever Floppy and Spieler were arguing about, it wasn't me. I'd hate it if Floppy found out that I was getting drugs from Spieler, and how, and cut off my supply. 

"Now then..."

Twycross waved his wand. Old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the floor in front of every student.

"The important things to remember when Apparating are the three Ds!" Twycross said, and Terry and I sniggered loudly. "Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

"Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination." Twycross said. "In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now."

Everybody looked around furtively, to check that everyone else was staring into their hoop, then hastily did as we were told. I gazed at the circular patch of dusty floor enclosed by my hoop and tried hard to think of nothing else. This proved impossible, as I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of being cut off from my supply. 

"Step two," said Twycross, "focus your determination to occupy the visualised space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!"

I glanced around surreptitiously. A little way to my left, Ernie Macmillan was contemplating his hoop so hard that his face had turned pink; it looked as though he was straining to lay a Quaffle-sized egg. I bit back a laugh and hastily returned my gaze to my own hoop.

"Step three," called Twycross, "and only when I give the command... turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation. On my command, now... one -" 

I glanced around again; lots of people were looking positively alarmed at being asked to Apparate so quickly.

"- Two -" 

I tried to fix my thoughts on my hoop again; I had already forgotten what the three Ds stood for.

"- THREE!"

I spun on the spot, lost my balance, and nearly fell over. I was not the only one. The whole Hall was suddenly full of staggering people; Neville was flat on his back; Ernie, on the other hand, had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop and looked momentarily thrilled, until he caught sight of Dean roaring with laughter at him.

"Never mind, never mind." Twycross said dryly, who did not seem to have expected anything better. "Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions..."

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. Not until the fourth did anything exciting happen. There was a horrible screech of pain and everybody looked around, terrified, to see Susan Bones of Hufflepuff wobbling in her hoop with her left leg still standing five feet away where she had started.

The Heads of House converged on her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Susan sobbing, reunited with her leg but looking horrified.

"Splinching, or the separation of random body parts," said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, "occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continually upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation... thus."

Twycross stepped forwards, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the back of the Hall. "Remember the three Ds," He said, "and try again... one - two - three -" 

But an hour later, Susan's Splinching was still the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross did not seem discouraged. Fastening his cloak at his neck, he merely said, "Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget: Destination. Determination. Deliberation."

With that, he waved his wand, Vanishing the hoops, and walked out of the Hall accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Talk broke out at once as people began moving towards the Entrance Hall.

Three lessons on, Apparition was proving as difficult as ever, though a few more people had managed to Splinch themselves. Frustration was running high and there was a certain amount of ill-feeling towards Wilkie Twycross and his three Ds, which had inspired a number of nicknames for him, the politest of which were Dog-breath and Dung-head. 

Terry and I, of course, had much worse nicknames for him. 

~~~ 

And later on the evening of the third Apparition lesson, I was alone in my dorm, undressing. Or at least I thought I was. As I pulled my school shirt off my shoulders, I heard a noise at the door, and I spun around to see the twins entering, their eyes glued to my chest. 

"Phew." I breathed out, relaxing. "Don't sneak up on me like that, guys." 

"Er - right." George said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he dragged his eyes away from my chest. I glanced down at myself, smirking as I took in the sexy lacy bra I was wearing. 

Fred was still shamelessly checking me out as George moved across to his side of the room, pulling out pyjama bottoms from his dresser. I batted my eyelashes at Fred as I stepped out of my skirt, bending over slowly to pick it up. 

I checked behind me as I folded my uniform and set it back into my dresser. Fred was gaping at my ass. I smirked again. 

"Hey, so I thought I could maybe sleep with you guys tonight? Maybe all of us could squeeze into Red's bed, here..." I said, turning to Fred's four-poster. "I dunno, I'm just feeling especially vulnerable today. Need to be in between you two." 

The twins exchanged a glance. Dressed in only my lacy bra and panties, I collapsed onto Fred's bed and lay in the middle, patting the spaces on either side of me. The twins, both shirtless and in pyjama bottoms, clambered onto the bed beside me, exchanging another glance over my head. 

"Great! Let's get cozy, then." I said brightly, tossing the blankets over us. I snuggled in close to the boys, biting my lip as I felt their heat radiate against me from both sides. 

"Softpaw...?" 

I silenced George's question by trailing my hand up his thigh. I traced the edge of his boxers, tugging at the fabric slightly, and he gasped above me. 

I looked up at him. He was gazing down at me, his eyes darkened. 

I jumped slightly as I felt Fred's hand on my ass from my other side. I rolled over to him, gazing into his eyes as we faced each other on the pillow. Then I leaned in, kissing him full on the mouth. Fred's lips moved with mine as my hands drifted across his bare chest, feeling his toned body. 

We broke apart, me gazing into his tender chocolate eyes for a moment more, then I turned to George. I cupped his jaw, bringing his face closer to mine, and connected his lips with mine. 

George made an enthusiastic sound into my mouth as we made out passionately. Fred's hands traced over my body from behind me as George's tongue flicked against mine, and I moaned softly. I moved my hand down, down George's equally as toned chest, down to his boxers... down underneath them... 

My eyes fluttered open as George groaned. I caught sight of the little bottle of nail polish on my bedside table, some of which was currently on my fingernail. 

"You guys take such good care of me." I said softly. "Let me return the favour... let me take care of you two..." 

I wrapped my hand around George and started stroking him slowly. George cursed under his breath, his hands on me, and he pulled me into another deep kiss. I could feel Fred grinding against me from behind, and I could also feel his hardness pressing against my ass. His hand ran over the curve of my hip and down to my panty line, his fingers slipping underneath and rubbing against my clit. I moaned loudly into George's mouth, and he groaned right back as my grip tightened on him. 

Fred's mouth kissed and sucked at my neck as George's tongue swept around my mouth. I rocked my hips against Fred's hand as I jerked George off, detaching from his mouth to spit seductively into my hand, making eye contact with George, to lubricate it. 

"F-fuck!" George gasped, and a hot liquid leaked all over my hand suddenly. I withdrew my hand, making eye contact again, and licked my fingers clean, making sure to suck each finger slowly, sticking my tongue out to curl around them. George pounced on me, pinning me down to the mattress, his eyes darkened. I giggled up at him as he held my wrists down, his expression wild. 

"Godric, Fred, she's so -" George panted, looking sideways at him pleadingly. "Can I -? I know she's your gir- er - your bestie, but... Please -" 

Fred, who had been shunted aside when George had knocked me onto my back, shrugged. "Go ahead, mate. I'm going to take her mouth..." 

I squirmed under George. The way they were talking about me, so dirty, when I was right there beneath them... was so hot to me. George's hands slid off my wrists onto my waist, and he lifted me up gently, turning me around. 

"On your hands and knees, Softpaw." George purred into my ear, and I obeyed, my knees weak. George positioned himself behind me, his hands caressing my ass, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my back. "You don't need to repay the favour, by the way... it's what friends do. You take care of us, we take care of you. And now we're going to take care of each other, Softpaw..." 

Fred was watching my face, slowly wanking himself off in front of me. My fists clenched in the bedsheets as George entered me, my lip in between my teeth and my back arched. He felt so good as he sank into me, and I immediately squeezed around him, moaning breathily. 

"Shit, Fred. You're going to have to quieten her, I'm not sure I can last inside her if she's making those sinful fucking noises -" 

I whimpered, and Fred swore this time. He moved closer in front of me swiftly, and I let my jaw fall open obediently, sticking my tongue out. Fred set himself on my tongue and slid forward, and I gagged slightly as he hit the back of my throat. 

The sounds of sex filled the air as I was fucked from both ends. Both twins were groaning lowly as they thrust into me, I was gagging occasionally as Fred slid down my throat, and I was making muffled moans as the two made me feel so good. George was getting close, I could tell by the way he was starting to get sloppy with his thrusts, and he was moaning more desperately. 

Apparently Fred could tell too, because he stopped screwing my throat, slipping out of my mouth, leaving me to cough as a string of my saliva connected his dick and my lips. 

"George, stop. Only I get to come inside her pussy from now on." Fred said firmly, and against my conscience, I clenched down on George, hard. Fred's possessiveness turned me on so much. George growled, rocking into me. 

"C'mon, man, I'm so close -" 

"Don't care, take her mouth." Fred said dismissively, shoving his twin in the shoulder. "Go on, move." 

George scowled, slipping out of me. Fred smirked, flipping me over onto my back as I yelped. Fred sat up and tugged my legs up, spreading them around him, resting my ankles on his shoulders. George, now behind me, tugged me back slightly so that my head was hanging slightly off the edge of the bed. I opened my mouth for him, and George slid in easily. I choked slightly on him as he dipped down my throat on the first thrust, but my attention was soon diverted as Fred positioned himself in between my legs. He was jerking himself off as he watched me, his eyes darkened and his bottom lip in between his teeth. 

"You still okay with this, Daze?" 

Fred's seductive but caring tone did something to both my heart and my pussy. I cried out a muffled, "Yes!" from around George, and Fred released his lip, sliding deep into me. The angle of this position was delicious, and I was arching my back into Fred, moaning loud around George in my mouth, my eyes fluttering shut. My feet hooked behind Fred's head, my toes curling. 

Fred rocked his hips into me, making shallow thrusts as he grabbed my thighs tight. He was rubbing against my g-spot in a way I'd never felt before, and I swallowed hard around George as I arched my hips desperately towards Fred. 

"Please..." I moaned around George, barely acknowledging that the boys probably couldn't hear what I was trying to say. "Please..." 

George's hands suddenly landed on my cheeks, and he bucked his hips into my face. Suddenly, I felt a rush of hot liquid running down my throat, and I swallowed frantically. Fuck, this was so hot... I gulped down everything that George gave me as the boy groaned loudly above me, his head tilted back. 

Fred was getting close, too. His thrusts were also starting to get sloppy, and his eyes were fluttering closed. George slipped out of my mouth, collapsing onto his bed, breathless. 

Now clear of George, Fred dropped my legs, leaning down over me. He hammered into me, spearing his hips in and out of me at such a fast pace that I squealed. 

"Please..." I moaned breathily. "Please, Freddie... fuck me, Freddie..." 

Fred growled into my ear, rolling his hips harshly against mine, making me mewl and arch my back. 

The little pants and deep groans that fell out of his mouth right next to my ear made me squeeze around him, and Fred was soon swearing loudly, his groans echoing around the room as he pulsed, his warmth spreading inside me. I shared my high with him, scratching my nails down his back harshly as I let out a long series of high-pitched, loud whimpers and moans of both the twins' names. 

Fred eventually slipped out of me, and we both fell back onto the sheets, panting. George stumbled over to us, collapsing on the other side of me. I tugged the blanket back up over us wearily. 

"I could use a nap after that." 

"Word."