𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋 ━ George Weasley

━ 𝟘𝟚𝟞. 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑂'𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘

💌🏹

╰┈➤ ❝ [𝑇𝑊𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑌-𝑆𝐼𝑋] ❞ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
⁺⤾·˚.⃗.  [ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴏ'ᴄʟᴏᴄᴋ] 𑁍ࠜೄ ˊˎ
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

The Gryffindor Boy's Dormitories
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
— Scottish Highlands
( December 26th, 1994. )

                        𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘'𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 was a chaotic mix of prank aftermath and the kind of drunken mess that could only follow a night of revelry. The air was thick with the smell of cheap Firewhisky, leftover Butterbeer, and what could only be described as magic gone wrong. The walls were smeared with glitter, enchanted paint, and remnants of spells that had clearly gone awry in the throes of a drunken prank war. Bottles, both full and empty, were scattered all over the floor. Some had spilled, their contents staining the wood like blood after a battlefield. A torn-up piece of parchment, no doubt an attempt to create some kind of prank list, fluttered lazily in the breeze from an open window. A forgotten sock lay in the corner, suspiciously stuck to the wall with a piece of chewing gum.

And the paint. . Oh Merlin the paint.

That was mostly Fred's doing. So you see the prank that had gone terribly awry the previous night had been Fred's brainchild, of course. It had started as a simple prank war—nothing too dangerous, just a bit of harmless fun to cap off the Yule Ball celebrations. Fred had decided that George's hair was looking far too neat and tidy for someone who was supposed to be his twin. So, naturally, Fred's first move was to liven things up a bit.

The plan? Easy peasy. Transfigure a can of bright paint into a harmless little splash right onto George's perfectly styled hair. That would throw him off balance, right? No harm done, just a little harmless fun to get the ball rolling. And, in Fred's mind, a perfect way to prank his brother.

But, as with all Fred's pranks, things went... slightly off-course.

The initial spell was meant to lightly coat George's hair with a small splash of hideously purple paint—something that would wash right out. Instead, Fred had accidentally misfired. Instead of a light coat, a full-on wave of bright purple paint shot from the wand and splattered across the entire room. It covered George's hair, his bed, and—most spectacularly—the walls, creating splotches of vibrant purple that were now impossible to remove without an army of house-elves.