The Fred and George Story
Chapter 2 - Marauders vs Weasleys
2003-2004.
Much as Fred and George missed the Marauders Map that they had given to Harry Potter, they had been occupied with other pressing matters – such as, trying to write clearly enough on parchment for order forms. That had taken quite a while – the twins weren’t known for their academic ability. Then it was being expressively depressed about the Age Line separating them from the Goblet of Fire. Shame, but still there were things to occupy them (that is, rubber chickens).
Now, however, there was nothing but homework and endless summer days; most of which would be spent avoiding Percy. So when they were allowed to go to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, they had thought it the excellent opportunity to “forget” about the nasty Potions essay.
They obviously didn’t realise that there were a couple of real pranksters hanging around the Order of Phoenix Headquarters. You really had to feel sorry for them.
“Boys!” Mr Weasley sounded at the end of his patience, which was quite a landmark victory for the twins. Yes, he was letting them go with him but no, they weren’t to attend the meeting.
George wasn’t impressed. “Then what’s the whole point of us going?”
Mr Weasley paused for a moment, but he was spared from answering. A thud from the next room over brought a billow of dust through the door way and a string of curses from his wife.
He replied simply, “Cleaning day.”
“We were just getting ready, weren’t we George?” Fred said pointedly.
They hurried up the stairs.
Both administered the kick which knocked the door out of its hinges and hurriedly pulled Muggle joggers onto their feet. Fred and George finished up by stuffing Weasley Wizard Wheezes related parchment into their socks so that no lumps remained. They never knew where their next payment was coming from – mostly it was Lee Jordan or friends from school. They’d been hoping for something a little more broad.
“We’re ready,” George told their father briskly, opening the front door more gently then any other in the house. He looked back after a brief silence, “Aren’t we going?”
Mr Weasley nervously fiddled with his baggy jeans (which were pulled up almost to his chest). “Your mother wants a quick word.”
Fred exchanged a glance with his twin and opened his mouth to complain, but Mrs Weasley appeared at the door, charmed feather duster in hand. She didn’t look too happy – it appeared the feather duster had gotten out of control. There were dirty patches all over her designated cleaning robes and she looked distinctly wild.
“Fred, George,” she said in a voice just a shave off threatening. “If I hear that you’ve tried to give anything away, cleaning your room will be a mere discomfort.”
There are few punishments (besides being pulled by the ear) that could have sounded just as bad. The twins nodded mutely and threw themselves out of the door. Mr Weasley followed at a more relaxed pace, but only a little slower. From her bedroom window, Ginny glared down at them enviously. Cleaning day at The Burrow was not something to be taken lightly.
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After a quick detour where shown the location on a piece of parchment, Fred and George followed their father into the Headquarters. Mr Weasley had anxiously told them to keep quiet and not to let their hands wander. However, Fred was more interested in touching everything just to see if it moved. He had become most attached to a painting half covered with curtains.
Ignoring George tugging on his sleeve, he put a finger closer and closer until it was almost touching the artwork...
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a man with messy dark hair remarked from behind him.
The twins jumped and spun around hard. For a moment, they just stared at the stranger then something went click.
George pointed a wild finger at the man and cried out, “Oh my God, it’s Sirius Black!”
Fred looked around quickly. “What, where?”
“Right there!” shrieked George, still waving a hand until it looked like it would drop off.
Sirius shot a somewhat hopeful look at the painting, but no such luck. It erupted in screams that almost drowned the Weasley twins out. Almost. Mr Weasley came bolting back into the corridor, wand drawn. When he saw the scene in front of him, he sighed and stuck the wand into his belt.
“Hello, Sirius, these are the twins, Fred and George,” Mr Weasley bellowed over the racket, then helped Sirius pull the curtains across the screaming portrait.
George stared at his father, Fred’s jaw fell with an audible crack. Suddenly, George started laughing at his twin.
Fred joined in hopelessly and cracked his jaw again. “Sorry, double jointed. By the way, Dad, why the heck is he here?”
“Because,” Sirius answered after shooting Mr Weasley a look, “I can’t go anywhere without people behaving as you just did.”
Fred hiccoughed; George kept sniggering. They didn’t seem to find the supposed murderer frightening – on the contrary, they were wondering what sort of pranks they could perform. George conjured a glass of water (ever since being allowed to do magic, they had gone into overdrive with pranks) and offered it to his twin who took it gratefully.
Fred coughed and put the glass aside.
He grinned suddenly and said reverently, “Ooh, we’ve got to know each other better.”
George nodded in agreement. Mr Weasley looked at them suspiciously for a moment, then patted Sirius on the shoulder. “All yours.”
“Right,” Muttered Sirius, unsettled by the identical evil grins that the twins wore.
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“Arthur,” Sirius began threateningly, “If you leave me with them one more minute...”
Mr Weasley looked up from examining the Black family crest on a goblet and his eyes widened. The source of Fred and George’s laughter became apparent. Sirius Black’s hair was now neon pink and spiked so high that he almost couldn’t get through the doorway.
Mr Weasley went past Sirius and warned the twins, “Boys, if your mother hears about this one...” He sighed. “You don’t know what you are getting into.”
Fred grinned around at a glowering Sirius. “What could we possibly be getting into?”
Sirius and Arthur looked at each other for a moment. Mr Weasley smiled innocently, such a creepy sight that Fred and George shrank about an inch.
Their father said flippantly, “Oh, nothing you want to know about.”
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George stepped inside the dim entrance of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, soon followed by Fred. It was very quiet except the snores from the portrait of Sirius’ mother. In the moment they were waiting for their eyes to adjust, they had no idea that war had been declared on them. None at all.
Just as the twins were about to be able to see, blinding flashes of light came from every direction. George threw a hand over his face and tripped backwards over Fred. When the haze had cleared, they were looking up from the floor at Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.
“Ouch,” Fred grumbled, “That wasn’t fair.”
He scratched an itchy scalp. So did his twin.
George blinked up at the attackers. “Professor Lupin? I think I hit my head harder than I thought.”
“No,” Sirius corrected, eyes glinting. “We hit it for you.”
Lupin produced a mirror, looking just as evil and trying to hold back a laugh at the same time. Neon pink seemed like a child’s trick compared to the flashing apparatus that greeted Fred and George.
Fred raked a hand through his hair, admitting, “Now, that was good.”
The twins seemed to communicate on a telepathic level. They weren’t about to beaten – they may have lost this battle, but they were going to win the war.
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Running footsteps passed where an Order meeting was being held. They ran past again and continued to go backwards and forwards for a while. No one was very amused when Mrs Black started screaming and George started screaming back at her. There was an explosion and the sound of something solid hitting a wall.
The twins had come across some carefully laid traps while trying to lay their own. It had seemed a most tempting opportunity to get it down while Sirius and Remus had been at the meeting, but alas, they were outsmarted again.
“I won’t stand for this!” grumbled Fred, trying not to twirl his frilly dress.
George pirouetted past and finished off with a cartwheel.
Fred managed to get a hold of his wand and charm the dress away, still complaining, “We’re being out done.”
George came past again, saying breathlessly, “It’s got to stop.”
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“Though I’m pleased you’re getting out of the house,” Mr Weasley cautioned, “If your mother finds out that you’ve been making those cheap tricks again...”
George waved a purple spotted hand dismissively. “She doesn’t have to know, Dad. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re planning our revenge.”
The door growled hungrily. Mr Weasley sighed and walked out, pulling the door securely shut. Fred pulled out his wand and flicked it at the simmering cauldron. “Where were we before he interrupted?”
“Right...here,” George said just as the surface of the fluid exploded into their faces.
Both sprouted Pharaoh like beards.
“Excellent,” they said together.
The door barked, having become extremely furry and its teeth pale green. The twins quickly changed their beloved door back (it now had orders to kill Percy on sight, if the git was daft enough to come back into the house).
The next day would definitely be theirs.
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Fred and George peeked around the corner of the staircase and watched their targets approach. They grinned and gripped both bottled potions and wands at the ready. Sirius and Lupin drew ever closer and it sounded like the latter was trying to dissuade Sirius from using Unforgivable Curses on the twins.
“Three...two...one,” the twins whispered as one and jumped out of their hiding place.
The vials exploded in front of their targets and the effects were immediate. They were also very accurate. Fred and George flourished mirrors triumphantly and watched the expression on Sirius Black’s face with interest.
Sirius sighed and grumbled, “I know when I’ve been beaten.”
“Have I seen you around?” Fred asked mischievously. “Sorry, but I don’t particularly want to give you my number.”
While Lupin looked extremely Egyptian, Sirius looked, er, very feminine. The twins reversed their jinxes happily and George held out a hand to Sirius, saying solemnly, “Shall we call it a truce?”
Sirius looked over at Remus despairingly. “What do you think, Moony?”
“Wait a minute!” Fred demanded, “Did you just say what I thought you said?”
George countered, “I think he did just say what we thought he did.”
“It could be coincidence,” they chorused at the same time.
Sirius and Remus had grown accustomed to the seemingly one sided conversations and waited patiently for the tirade to end. Fred said slowly, “It makes sense.”
“It does, doesn’t it,” George mused.
A light may as well have been lit over their heads. Fred asked calmly, with an amount of excitement bubbling under his voice, “You just called him Moony, Sirius, didn’t you?”
“Yes...” Sirius couldn’t see where this was going.
He exchanged a puzzled look with Remus.
George said almost reverently, “Do the names Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail mean anything to you?”
“Or something called the Marauder’s Map?” supplied Fred hopefully.
Their prankster opponents looked surprised. Lupin covered for the stunned silent Sirius, asking quietly, “How do you know about the Marauder’s Map?”
George rolled his eyes. “Well, duh, we had it for a few years. Then gave it to Harry.”
“So spill,” Fred urged.
Sirius explained shortly, “When we were at school together, I was Padfoot and he was Moony.”
Fred bowed, saying theatrically, “We worship the ground you walk on, O master pranksters!”
George copied his twin. The awe on their faces was apparent.
George straightened up suddenly, “Oi, what about Prongs and Wormtail?”
The two true remaining Marauders exchanged uncomfortable glances.
Fred noted this and said diplomatically, “Perhaps over some Butterbeer? I have a feeling this is going to be a good story.”
“Hm,” agreed George.
Sirius grinned at the pair of them. “If you’re buying.”