Wonder Wizards (Fred/George Weasley x Reader)

Savour The Moment

"Fred, fuck off you prick!," were the first words you had spoken that morning, as Fred had just tipped cold water over you whilst you were showering. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and you knew it wouldn't be the last - a very quick and easy way to get on your nerves first thing in the morning.

"Don't be sour, love," he laughed, just as George followed suit to spill another cup of cold water over your head. "A little something to wake you up!," George called from the hallway, the two of them running from their impending doom.

"That's it!" you shouted, shutting the water off and throwing a towel around yourself before hurrying after them, ignoring the shocked faces of Harry and Ron as you shoved past them on the stairs.

"Don't you always lock the bathroom door?" Ron said, his voice fading in the midst of you running towards the kitchen where you had caught the twins going out of the corner of your eye. "Yes!" you called back to him, the old worn-out bathroom door wasn't exactly difficult to unlock from the outside - especially for the seasoned tricksters that were Fred and George.

You skidded along the worn wooden floor of the living room, picking up a wand that was coincidentally placed on the coffee table, the towel securely bundled in one hand. Your wet hair dribbled down your back, the water making you shiver.

The twins were not too far in front, their maniacal cackling rippling through the house, scolding your ears only spurring you on.

"Flipendo!"

"Furnunculus!"

"Entomorphis!"

With every spark of the wand held in your hand your frustration grew, not a single jinx landing on them, only crashing into walls or flying over their heads when they ducked just at the right moment.

"Y/N!," Molly cried when she saw you, dropping the basket of clean laundry onto the floor. You slipped on the sleeve of a t-shirt nearly dropping your towel, scarcely saving yourself before you bared all in front of a startled Mrs Weasley.

Picking yourself back up, your feet scrambled underneath you to follow the twins out into the garden, having to take a second to grip the wand between your teeth so you could stumble wrestling with your boots. The laces flicked up and whipped your bare legs, somehow managing to keep the fabric securing your dignity firmly in place.

Scanning the all too quiet garden, your ears pricked at every small rustle of the leaves, every squawk of the chickens, the snap of a branch in the distance.

"Titillando!" Fred shouted, zooming past you on his broom. A sudden wave of what felt like one thousand feathers nuzzling your skin cascaded over you, the tickling becoming quickly unbearable. You were consumed by fits and screams of laughter, your legs turning to jelly barely able to keep yourself up right.

"You- you - a- arsehole!," you cackled, having to take in large breaths in between the words, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You steadied your breathing, squeezing your eyes together and clenching your teeth, trying anything to numb the stimulation.

Lifting your wand up towards Fred's direction, you called out a broom jinx, which luckily landed perfectly - sparks crackled against the hilt of Fred's broom, stalling him and it, midair. Suddenly, the tattered broomstick knocked up and down, Fred having to adjust his grip in order to not be bucked off.

It stalled again, this time abruptly spiralling downwards at an alarming rate. Despite Fred's attempts to control the course in which he was flying, the broom continued to jolt upwards and downwards, lurching from side to side like a blind-sided bull.