9/5: I have FINALLY gotten around to editing this story. I was in a competition and the deadline was before I was ready, so I posted it quickly. But I have just edited all of the chapters and reposted them.

Disclaimer: Wanna hear a joke? I own Harry Potter. Haha wasn't that funny? No, but really, I don't own Harry Potter.

This is a submission to alohamora080's "True Colors" Competition. My character is Dominique Weasley, and my prompt is the color red, which (in this story) symbolizes courage.

"Did you hear that?" Molly asked, her red head perking up. My cousin stretched her neck towards the staircase that led out of our dormitory, as though every inch allowed her to hear better.

"Yes," I told her.

We were alone in our dormitory, a situation which tended to be problematic, because we somehow managed fight whenever we were alone. Actually, we somehow managed to fight always. But we sat on our own beds, on opposite sides of the room, not talking prior to that moment. We were far enough away that we had to raise our voices to communicate.

"The shouting?" Molly prodded.

"Yes," I said, "It's been going on for a few minutes." My bed was closer to the staircase, so I could hear what was going on downstairs better than she could. Molly's perfectly neat bed was in the far corner of the room.

"Well, why didn't you tell me, Dominique? We should go figure out what's going on!"

I waved my quill around. "I'm sure it's just Fred and James being idiots and pulling some stupid prank. Don't worry about it." Expecting this to end the conversation, I returned to my Charms homework. We were preparing for our N.E. , so the teachers had been brutal in homework assignments. My other roommates didn't seem to care – who knew where they even were? – but Molly and I had spent quite a bit of time in our dorms or the library trying to get work done.

But just as I started answering a question, Molly interrupted me again. "I don't know… maybe I should go down. I am Head Girl, after all."

I gritted my teeth softly. I swear to Dumbledore, Molly threw that into every single conversation that we have. "Fine. Go," I snapped at her. "But there's nothing to see."

Molly made a face at me, one which only she and Uncle Percy could make, but returned to her work. In this game that we were playing, this game which nobody ever seemed to really win, neither of us wanted to be wrong, neither of us wanted to look weak, and, of course, neither of us could let our grades slip.

Not even a minute had passed before I heard footsteps pounding quickly up the stairs. "Molly! Dom!" a voice shrieked. Both of us jumped to our feet as little Lily ran in the room, her round face almost as red as her hair. "Come quickly!"

The look of complete desperation and fear on Lily's face was enough to prevent Molly from sending me the, "I told you so," face that she would have at any other time.

The three of us ran down the staircase as fast as we possibly could, practically tripping over our feet. At the thundering of our feet, some of the younger girls stuck their heads out to see what was going on.

From the moment the Gryffindor Common Room comes into sight, I knew that this was no foolish prank pulled by my cousins. This was no funny joke or victory celebration.

This was chaos.

There were Gryffindors everywhere, and about half of them were moving around, quickly, nervously. And the source of all of this tension: standing in front of the back of the Fat Lady's portrait were four men.

The men were tall. They wore black uniforms, almost like a soldier in a Muggle army. But they had masks on that covered their faces.

The message got across clear enough though. Nobody was allowed in or out.

We were stuck inside the Gryffindor Common Room.