The Burrow was unusually quiet that bright summer morning, despite it being even fuller than usual. The residents could hear birds chirping outside the house and gnomes grumbling like cranky sea-men, spitting out a variety of different swear-words. Of course, the silence wasn't about to last long.

"The time has arrived," Fred declared, arms raised in glory. "Ready, Forge?" He inquired of his brother and loyal partner in crime with an air of adventure.

"Right when you are, Gred," George joined him. They stood and rubbed their hands together, waiting to open their bedroom door and wreak havoc with their brilliant plan: switched identities. It had been two long years since they had first pulled this prank and, not wanting it to lose effectiveness, had refrained from doing so again. But the chance to test it on Harry Potter felt too good to lose and so, the two bounced on the balls of their feet and prepared for what would undoubtedly be a trying day. Trying not to laugh, that is.

Identical though they were, the twins had their differences. It was often George who spoke first, initiating conversations with simple yet engaging questions or submitting a convincing lie for his brother to elaborate on. This time was no different. Arranging his face into his signature 'innocent' expression that only Fred could correctly imitate, George put the tips of his fingers together.

"I can already picture their faces," he relished.

"The reveal will send them back to the past," Fred, ever eloquent, murmured conspiratorially as he leaned against the wall; his ability to mold words like clay had remained unmatched so far.

"And it won't happen till bedtime," George grinned.

"So Mum won't even yell at us."

"But for now -"

"A monumental moment -"

"A test of our skills -"

"An indispensable opportunity -"

"Awaits downstairs!" The two yelled as they thrust open the door and bounded to the kitchen, the smell of breakfast wafting pleasantly in the air as they jumped the last four steps.

"Will you two stop screaming for once?" The Weasley matriarch scolded as she flipped strips of bacon, checking the large family clock to see if her husband's hand had reached Work yet. "Enough with this racket!" She added as the twins sat themselves on either side of Harry, loudly scraping the chairs on the floor. They both turned to look at the black-haired boy between them as if noticing him for the first time, even though he stood out quite strongly among the family of red-heads.

"Ickle Harrikins!" They chorused loudly and Harry jumped, ears ringing.

"Slept well, did you? Tell me -" Fred began charismatically.

"- did Ickle Ronnikins snore like a troll?" George finished in the same manner.

"Hey!" Ron protested, spraying the table with bits of egg.

"Er -" Harry started, surprised at being asked such a question. He was saved from answering when Percy entered the kitchen, somehow managing to look pompous in a red jumper and quill-patterned pyjama bottoms, and glared at the twins.

"Pass the salt, Perce!" George demanded the moment Percy took a seat. Percy shot him another contemptuous look.

"There, George," he huffed, plonking the Crup-shaped salt pot with unnecessary force in front of the twin on Harry's right.

"I'm Fred!" George said indignantly, sprinkling his scrambled eggs with salt and glaring at his brother with burning eyes.

"Sorry," the other boy said, not sounding very apologetic at all, and rolled his eyes as he wiped his glasses with his sleeve. Harry guessed that confusing the twins' identities must've been a fairly common occurrence, seeing as no one had batted an eye at the dispute.

"You know, Harry," Fred addressed him, shovelling spoonfuls of egg into his mouth as he spoke. "You'd think that after living with us for fourteen years, Prince Percy here would finally grace us with the ability to tell us apart." He waved his fork at an annoyed and impatient Percy as if to dismiss him. Harry gave him a knowing smile in return before taking a sip of orange juice, leaving Fred to wonder if people often confused the dark-haired boy with his cousin, although to him it seemed a fat chance, judging by the appearances of Harry's Aunt and Uncle.

The remainder of the meal continued in a similar fashion, excepting all the times the twins got up to fetch something or another and switched places. Mrs. Weasley started suspecting it when one of the twins stood up yet again on the excuse of retying his shoelaces while the other took second helpings of sausage and promptly sat in each other's chairs. She'd opened her mouth to retort when a loud screech cut through the kitchen and a large beige owl landed on the window sill. It hooted softly, peering at the food laid out on the table with brilliant orange eyes.

"I'll get it," Harry said, placing his plate in the sink and rushing to the owl. He untied the two letters strung to its leg, addressed to George and Fred respectively.

"That's Lee's owl," they informed the dining table as Harry strode toward them, holding the letters from Gryffindor's famous Quidditch commentator.

"Fred," he called, handing him the envelope. "And George," he reached the other twin and gave him Lee's letter. "I'll go get my broom," Harry told them, remembering the two-on-two Quidditch game they'd agreed to after breakfast, and hurriedly left for Ron's bedroom.

A stunned silence followed his wake, in which Fred and George gaped at each other with identical expressions of shock, mouths hanging open like fish. Mrs. Weasley beamed at the stairs Harry had just left to climb and gathered the plates, sending silent blessings to the boy. Percy simply quirked his eyebrows, mildly impressed, while Ginny and Ron exchanged looks of amusement and decided to take advantage of the twins' befuddlement. They reached up and hit them across their heads, snorting with laughter as they ran upstairs to take refuge in their rooms.

"How did he-" Fred began, astonished, absently rubbing the back of his neck.

"No idea," George answered, his voice echoing the shock in his brother's. Harry had lived with them for barely more than a month and had managed to tell them apart. Harry had managed to tell them apart. The realisation erupted a surge of affection for their little brother's scrawny best friend in their wayward hearts. Turning, they caught the other's eye and knew that right now, even their thoughts mirrored each other.

"George, Fred, you ready?" Harry's voice cut through their thought processes like a hot knife through butter.

"Yeah," they replied, beaming at the bespectacled boy in front of them as if he'd just agreed to fulfill all their dreams and wishes.

"Well, hurry up," Ron said impatiently but his smile gave away his amusement.

"Lead the way, Gred!" George said, walking right next to Fred.

"Right ahead, Forge!" They ruffled Harry's hair before racing outside, the happiest they'd been in a fairly long time.

*