Disclaimer: *sniffs* not mine
Fred and George Weasley were sitting in the kitchen of The Burrow, dreading the arrival of Hogwarts letters, especially in front of the family. Well, not studying for O.W.Ls can still find a way to bite you in the ass, usually the in the form of a wooden spoon wielded by their mother. Percy was upstairs, taking an unusual amount of time to brush his hair. Ginny was moping the bathroom about the ringlets her evil brothers (namely Fred and George) cursed on her via a nasty potion. No one knew where Ron was - chances were he was writing a lengthy fan letter to the Chudley Cannons.
Mr Weasley was out taking care of raids, so that left only their mum sitting placidly across from them. Her eyes scanned the sky as if squinting could make the Hogwarts owl fly faster. Conveniently at this time, a huge explosion erupted upstairs.
"Wasn't me," Fred said immediately.
"Or me," Added George in a bored way.
Ginny's blackened head appeared from the landing. Taking this as a hair perm gone wrong, Mrs Weasley dashed upstairs to help her daughter. Fred turned to his twin,
"Come on, admit it. That explosion was you."
"Whoever smelt it dealt it," George replied simply.
Suddenly, they both looked up at the sky outside. Ominously, as owl come swooping in. It landed, waiting for the loaded envelope to be taken off. George reached for it with trembling fingers. He paused, took a deep breath and tried again. He tore off the envelope and threw it towards the end of the table.
Fred poked it, as though it would explode, commenting dryly,
"Heh, look, Hogwarts letters."
His brother bent over and inspected it carefully,
"Do you think Mum'll notice if these don't *arrive* until later?"
"Probably not," Fred supplied hopefully, pocketing the letters, "Come on, let's check these out."
So they climbed past Percy's room, past the bathroom where they could hear Ginny shrieking and past Ron's room from where they heard, 'Quidditch World Cup! Lalalala! Quidditch World Cup!' being belted out by an extremely excited Ron, even though they didn't have the tickets just yet. George wondered for a moment where the heck Ron had gotten that ruddy owl he liked to sing to.
Finally, they reached their door with the "danger" sign flashing red and orange. Fred opened it with a good solid kick and both went inside. The door shut itself, growling. You had to feel sorry for that door. A nasty hex when the twins were only five. Now it had brains. And teeth. Percy hated that door - he still rubbed his rump whenever he saw it from down the stairs.
Fred set the fat envelope on the bedside table between their beds. Both stared at it for a moment, then George sat down and opened it. He scanned the first few,
"Just your usual reminder that the Hogwarts Express does leave from Kings Cross and not Albania, blah blah blah . . ." He paused and held up the letter with his name. Wordlessly, he handed over Fred's and both tucked in.
Fred groaned. George groaned. They traded letters. Fred began laughing.
"What is so funny?" Demanded George.
His twin grinned,
"They're identical."
And so they were. George put them side-by-side and smirked.
Astronomy - Dreadful
Care of Magical Creatures - Poor
Charms - Acceptable
Runes - Dreadful ("Never knew why we signed up for that," Fred commented.)
Defence Against the Dark Arts - Poor
History of Magic - Dreadful
Herbology - Poor
Potions - Acceptable ("How does that work?" George wanted to know, "The git doesn't even like the Slytherins.")
Transfiguration - Acceptable
O.W.Ls in total - 3
It suddenly sank in for Fred. Horrified, he threw both letters onto the floor. He said sadly,
"Now Mum'll never let us go to the Quidditch World Cup."
He began hyperventilating. George prodded the parchment with his foot. When it made no attempts to bite him, he picked them up and folded them neatly, slotting them at the end of the numerous Hogwarts letters. George grinned evilly,
"You know what you need?"
"What?" Fred moaned from behind his hands.
His brother pointed at the cauldron sitting innocently in the corner,
"A big explosion."
Fred had moved over to the cauldron and picked up one of his Weasley's Wizard Wheezes draft order forms, scanning it thoughtfully,
"We really should have something that makes explosions. Then we wouldn't have to keep experimenting with the sulphur."
It was at that moment the door growled and a few seconds later; their mother was banging on the door.
"Fred! George!" She kicked open the door and strode in, "Have you cleaned up your . . ."
She trailed off, catching sight of the Hogwarts letters George had failed to stuff out of sight. It seemed for a moment that her face was going as red as her hair. Mrs Weasley held out her hand. George handed over the letters without question. His mum shuffled through and got theirs out, staring at the O.W.L results, her lips moving soundlessly.
Fred cleared his throat nervously. You had to be cautious - he still had nightmares about the time he, George and Ron had arrived back home in the enchanted Ford Anglia with Harry. He said tentatively,
"Well, we did our best, didn't we? Three's not too bad, hey, Mum?"
Mrs Weasley arched an eyebrow and in an instant she was full of her usual ranting and banter,
"THREE O.W.LS! WHY COULDN'T YOU BE LIKE BILL! OR CHARLIE! OR PERCY! YOUR FATHER AND I HOPED YOU'D DO BETTER!"
"Geez, Mum, no need to shout," George cut across her, "See, we got Acceptable in Potions? That's extremely rare. You've been such a role model for us. We tried really hard to get an OWL in Potions like you did at school. We've tried to follow in your footsteps, because you are such an inspiring person."
Fred looked at his twin, flabbergasted. Apparently, this was not a tactic he had been thinking of. Flattery. Neither had Mrs Weasley. Her mouth was hanging open, but then Super Bitch kicked back in again.
"HITTING THE BOOKS CAN'T BE THAT HARD!" She shrieked.
Fred muttered under his breath,
"Hitting Malfoy is easier."
Mrs Weasley heard this, unfortunately, and grabbed him by the ear. She then took one of George's ears and marched them both down to the table, Hogwarts letters sticking out the front of her apron. Fuming, she dropped them into chairs and threw the letters in front of the rest of the family. Percy was still brushing his hair, Ginny was cautiously touching her own locks, Ron was singing 'Quidditch World Cup, lalalala" to himself and Mr Weasley had just come out of the fireplace.
"YOUR SONS!" Their Mum roared at her husband, "GOT THREE O.W.LS!"
Mr Weasley brightened,
"Oh really? That's wonderful - I mean," He stopped as Mrs Weasley made moves to snap his own ear, "Very bad, boys, very bad indeed . . ."
After a long and boring rant, they finally ate. If you're thinking things couldn't get any worse . . .think again. Mrs Weasley got up suddenly, glowering,
"I'm disappointed in you two. You can't even manage to clean your own room!"
With that, she snatched her wand and dashed upstairs. Fred and George simultaneously looked at each other and said at the same time,
"Bugger."
There was a ghastly silence following this statement. Percy gave them a smug look and pulled out his work, which had very large pictures of cauldrons leaking on it. The stairs creaked. Everyone jumped but Percy. Mrs Weasley was standing at the bottom, bundles of parchment held up in her fist. Fred smiled weakly. George attempted to say something, but he couldn't find a plausible excuse.
"Fred, George," She whispered dangerously, "What exactly are the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"
Fred managed in a small voice,
"Mine and George's future joke shop."
Percy snorted and suggested loftily,
"It would be sensible to have them stay at home during the Quidditch World Cup, that is if we get tickets."
The twins gave him the death glare. Almost telepathically, they decided to devise some cruel payback strategy to punish their brother. Something disgusting - and soon. Mrs Weasley had gone red in the face, a feat she had now managed twice in one day.
"Mum," George pleaded, "Not the Quidditch World Cup!"
His mother tightened her hold on the order form drafts. Her lips twitched. The door from upstairs growled. The ghoul dropped something huge and still no one moved. Mr Weasley said timidly,
"Molly, you can't really not let them go. They'll work harder this year."
Everyone stared at him. It was unheard of, their father standing up for the twins for more than thirty seconds. Mrs Weasley let out an exasperated sigh, but her eyes flashed,
"So. These forms are what you've been spending all your time on. These items. I'll let you go to the Quidditch World Cup if you hand over this . . .junk. All of it!"
Fred jumped, landed heavily on George's toe making him jump. They both scurried upstairs. George gave the door the customary kick and both tumbled in.
"Percy's a git," Fred muttered, "We should send him something."
George managed a tight-lipped smile, a plan forming,
"Hey, do you reckon if we owl Charlie quick enough he'll bring some dragon dung with him when he comes?"
Fred grinned. Evilly.
~~~
AN: This might be the end or the beginning. Your choice, of course, readers.
Fred and George Weasley were sitting in the kitchen of The Burrow, dreading the arrival of Hogwarts letters, especially in front of the family. Well, not studying for O.W.Ls can still find a way to bite you in the ass, usually the in the form of a wooden spoon wielded by their mother. Percy was upstairs, taking an unusual amount of time to brush his hair. Ginny was moping the bathroom about the ringlets her evil brothers (namely Fred and George) cursed on her via a nasty potion. No one knew where Ron was - chances were he was writing a lengthy fan letter to the Chudley Cannons.
Mr Weasley was out taking care of raids, so that left only their mum sitting placidly across from them. Her eyes scanned the sky as if squinting could make the Hogwarts owl fly faster. Conveniently at this time, a huge explosion erupted upstairs.
"Wasn't me," Fred said immediately.
"Or me," Added George in a bored way.
Ginny's blackened head appeared from the landing. Taking this as a hair perm gone wrong, Mrs Weasley dashed upstairs to help her daughter. Fred turned to his twin,
"Come on, admit it. That explosion was you."
"Whoever smelt it dealt it," George replied simply.
Suddenly, they both looked up at the sky outside. Ominously, as owl come swooping in. It landed, waiting for the loaded envelope to be taken off. George reached for it with trembling fingers. He paused, took a deep breath and tried again. He tore off the envelope and threw it towards the end of the table.
Fred poked it, as though it would explode, commenting dryly,
"Heh, look, Hogwarts letters."
His brother bent over and inspected it carefully,
"Do you think Mum'll notice if these don't *arrive* until later?"
"Probably not," Fred supplied hopefully, pocketing the letters, "Come on, let's check these out."
So they climbed past Percy's room, past the bathroom where they could hear Ginny shrieking and past Ron's room from where they heard, 'Quidditch World Cup! Lalalala! Quidditch World Cup!' being belted out by an extremely excited Ron, even though they didn't have the tickets just yet. George wondered for a moment where the heck Ron had gotten that ruddy owl he liked to sing to.
Finally, they reached their door with the "danger" sign flashing red and orange. Fred opened it with a good solid kick and both went inside. The door shut itself, growling. You had to feel sorry for that door. A nasty hex when the twins were only five. Now it had brains. And teeth. Percy hated that door - he still rubbed his rump whenever he saw it from down the stairs.
Fred set the fat envelope on the bedside table between their beds. Both stared at it for a moment, then George sat down and opened it. He scanned the first few,
"Just your usual reminder that the Hogwarts Express does leave from Kings Cross and not Albania, blah blah blah . . ." He paused and held up the letter with his name. Wordlessly, he handed over Fred's and both tucked in.
Fred groaned. George groaned. They traded letters. Fred began laughing.
"What is so funny?" Demanded George.
His twin grinned,
"They're identical."
And so they were. George put them side-by-side and smirked.
Astronomy - Dreadful
Care of Magical Creatures - Poor
Charms - Acceptable
Runes - Dreadful ("Never knew why we signed up for that," Fred commented.)
Defence Against the Dark Arts - Poor
History of Magic - Dreadful
Herbology - Poor
Potions - Acceptable ("How does that work?" George wanted to know, "The git doesn't even like the Slytherins.")
Transfiguration - Acceptable
O.W.Ls in total - 3
It suddenly sank in for Fred. Horrified, he threw both letters onto the floor. He said sadly,
"Now Mum'll never let us go to the Quidditch World Cup."
He began hyperventilating. George prodded the parchment with his foot. When it made no attempts to bite him, he picked them up and folded them neatly, slotting them at the end of the numerous Hogwarts letters. George grinned evilly,
"You know what you need?"
"What?" Fred moaned from behind his hands.
His brother pointed at the cauldron sitting innocently in the corner,
"A big explosion."
Fred had moved over to the cauldron and picked up one of his Weasley's Wizard Wheezes draft order forms, scanning it thoughtfully,
"We really should have something that makes explosions. Then we wouldn't have to keep experimenting with the sulphur."
It was at that moment the door growled and a few seconds later; their mother was banging on the door.
"Fred! George!" She kicked open the door and strode in, "Have you cleaned up your . . ."
She trailed off, catching sight of the Hogwarts letters George had failed to stuff out of sight. It seemed for a moment that her face was going as red as her hair. Mrs Weasley held out her hand. George handed over the letters without question. His mum shuffled through and got theirs out, staring at the O.W.L results, her lips moving soundlessly.
Fred cleared his throat nervously. You had to be cautious - he still had nightmares about the time he, George and Ron had arrived back home in the enchanted Ford Anglia with Harry. He said tentatively,
"Well, we did our best, didn't we? Three's not too bad, hey, Mum?"
Mrs Weasley arched an eyebrow and in an instant she was full of her usual ranting and banter,
"THREE O.W.LS! WHY COULDN'T YOU BE LIKE BILL! OR CHARLIE! OR PERCY! YOUR FATHER AND I HOPED YOU'D DO BETTER!"
"Geez, Mum, no need to shout," George cut across her, "See, we got Acceptable in Potions? That's extremely rare. You've been such a role model for us. We tried really hard to get an OWL in Potions like you did at school. We've tried to follow in your footsteps, because you are such an inspiring person."
Fred looked at his twin, flabbergasted. Apparently, this was not a tactic he had been thinking of. Flattery. Neither had Mrs Weasley. Her mouth was hanging open, but then Super Bitch kicked back in again.
"HITTING THE BOOKS CAN'T BE THAT HARD!" She shrieked.
Fred muttered under his breath,
"Hitting Malfoy is easier."
Mrs Weasley heard this, unfortunately, and grabbed him by the ear. She then took one of George's ears and marched them both down to the table, Hogwarts letters sticking out the front of her apron. Fuming, she dropped them into chairs and threw the letters in front of the rest of the family. Percy was still brushing his hair, Ginny was cautiously touching her own locks, Ron was singing 'Quidditch World Cup, lalalala" to himself and Mr Weasley had just come out of the fireplace.
"YOUR SONS!" Their Mum roared at her husband, "GOT THREE O.W.LS!"
Mr Weasley brightened,
"Oh really? That's wonderful - I mean," He stopped as Mrs Weasley made moves to snap his own ear, "Very bad, boys, very bad indeed . . ."
After a long and boring rant, they finally ate. If you're thinking things couldn't get any worse . . .think again. Mrs Weasley got up suddenly, glowering,
"I'm disappointed in you two. You can't even manage to clean your own room!"
With that, she snatched her wand and dashed upstairs. Fred and George simultaneously looked at each other and said at the same time,
"Bugger."
There was a ghastly silence following this statement. Percy gave them a smug look and pulled out his work, which had very large pictures of cauldrons leaking on it. The stairs creaked. Everyone jumped but Percy. Mrs Weasley was standing at the bottom, bundles of parchment held up in her fist. Fred smiled weakly. George attempted to say something, but he couldn't find a plausible excuse.
"Fred, George," She whispered dangerously, "What exactly are the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"
Fred managed in a small voice,
"Mine and George's future joke shop."
Percy snorted and suggested loftily,
"It would be sensible to have them stay at home during the Quidditch World Cup, that is if we get tickets."
The twins gave him the death glare. Almost telepathically, they decided to devise some cruel payback strategy to punish their brother. Something disgusting - and soon. Mrs Weasley had gone red in the face, a feat she had now managed twice in one day.
"Mum," George pleaded, "Not the Quidditch World Cup!"
His mother tightened her hold on the order form drafts. Her lips twitched. The door from upstairs growled. The ghoul dropped something huge and still no one moved. Mr Weasley said timidly,
"Molly, you can't really not let them go. They'll work harder this year."
Everyone stared at him. It was unheard of, their father standing up for the twins for more than thirty seconds. Mrs Weasley let out an exasperated sigh, but her eyes flashed,
"So. These forms are what you've been spending all your time on. These items. I'll let you go to the Quidditch World Cup if you hand over this . . .junk. All of it!"
Fred jumped, landed heavily on George's toe making him jump. They both scurried upstairs. George gave the door the customary kick and both tumbled in.
"Percy's a git," Fred muttered, "We should send him something."
George managed a tight-lipped smile, a plan forming,
"Hey, do you reckon if we owl Charlie quick enough he'll bring some dragon dung with him when he comes?"
Fred grinned. Evilly.
~~~
AN: This might be the end or the beginning. Your choice, of course, readers.