"This is an outrage!" George shouted dramatically, slamming his fists on the Gryffindor dining table sending the enormous pile of yams scattering across the glossy wood. "I am absolutely astounded that they would put this rubbish in front of me!"

"An outrage, indeed," agreed Fred. "And to think, those silly house elves call us their friends!" Hermione, who was sitting not too far away, shot him an icy look.

George nodded, pushing his plate away from him roughly. "Fred, I'm afraid this matter has gone too long without any attention. Hadn't we taught them anything?" he wondered aloud, shaking his head in disapproval. Their mock frustration was beginning to make heads turn.

"I believe it's time we've done something about this. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Fred asked, raising his eyebrows and grinning maliciously.

His twin smiled back, and said, "That depends. Are you thinking about my devilish good looks?"

"Close."

"Grab your bag, Freddie," he said, winking. "I think that'll be all for lunch today. Suddenly, I've lost my appetite."

"What a coincidence." The two marched out of the Great Hall, earning some curious glances and arousing some hushed whispers amongst the dining students.

Fred and George tiptoed down to the familiar portrait of the colorful bowl of fruit, careful not to draw any more attention. As George kept watch, Fred deftly tickled the green pear and turned the doorknob it magically transformed into. He slipped inside, waving his brother to follow silently.

Once safely inside, the twins turned around and faced the busy elves. Fred crossed his arms; George placed his hands on his hips and cleared his throat. Almost at once, the house elves froze and snapped their heads in their direction.

"We'll make short work of this, won't we George?" Fred said, staring at the knobby little creatures around them, struggling to keep himself from smiling.

"Yes, Fred. We want to know where you keep the sweet potatoes," George demanded, using the most vicious tone he could muster.

Apart from one who cried, "Why should we tell you?" each terrified elf pointed simultaneously toward a closet door labeled "Vegetables".

"Thank you. Carry on," Fred ordered, and they all scurried back to work, immediately.

Inside the closet were piles and piles of crates labeled differently according to the vegetable they held. Thankfully, the yam collection was laid out nicely in front of them, most likely because they had been so recently used.

They glanced at each other, matching grins spreading across their faces, and George said, "Ready, Fred?"

"Ready, George!"

And, with the waves of their wands, one by one, the yams hopped out of the crates and sprouted ugly, green, frog-like legs. Then, they began waddling in single file out of the closet, into the kitchen, through the portrait hole, into the Entrance Hall and out through the front doors.

Fred and George ran out of the closet when they heard the house elves shrieking in surprise. They tried to stop the parade, but the slippery yams slid easily out of their palms and resumed their place in line. The boys roared in delight.

Students and teachers alike began screaming and yelping. Chaos, exactly what the twins thrived on. Quickly, they trailed the potato rally into the Entrance Hall and began swinging their arms in a way that suggested they were conducting an orchestra.

Professor Flitwick came shuffling out of the Great Hall, pushing his way through the gathering students, yelling the whole way. "Oh, Merlin! I'll bet it's the Weasleys again! Oh, how did I know!" He threw his hands up in anger, and his face grew red. "What have you done?"

"We've done everyone a favor!" they yelled together over the growing noise, smirking.

"Deten – "

"We know, we know. Detention," the boys said, rolling their eyes in unison.