Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 28:1

THE HOUSE CUP

The school year was over, and what a year it had been. The Weasley twins had so much to take home with them. They had new friends, a Venus plant, an Invisibility Cloak, a magical map of the school, exciting new tricks to test on unwitting family members, the ability to hear one another's thoughts, and (oddest of all) new bodies — uncoordinated though they may be. And while their shoddy wands could tell the boys apart, their quills would not be faring so well.

According to Fred's body, his dominant hand was thoroughly confused. And it seemed as if he was now left handed, while George's right pinky tended to buck uncontrollably around suppertime.

"Should we switch jumpers?" Fred suggested, while packing their trunks on the last morning at the castle. "This is yours now, after all."

George took hold of his brother's blotchy brown sweater and held it to his chest. He looked down at the large, yellow letter 'F' that their mother had knit into the center.

"Oh, Gred...you're confusing me!"

"Sorry, Forge."

Laughing, Lee watched from across the room as his mates dressed in opposite jumpers. He closed his polished silver trunk. The house-elves, who were huddled on the landing outside the door, fought one another over who would be carrying it down. Those who lost the fight looked dismally at the tattered trunks that sat beside the Weasley four-posters.

"Sorry mine doesn't have the Jordan family crest," Fred woofed. "But we can't all be Galleonaires, now can we?"

The house-elves trudged forward and seized the Weasley trunks, doing their best to keep them from crumbling to bits as they returned to the landing.

"You should come for a visit this summer," Lee suggested. "Our home is not too exciting, mind. But it's big enough that no one will hear you setting off a box of Filibuster fireworks. What d'ya say?"

George replied eagerly for the pair of them. "You're on!"

The common room was astir with heartfelt goodbyes. All of the Gryffindors were sharing fond memories and looking forward to the year to come, whether it be at Hogwarts or elsewhere. Fred and George watched them enviously. They still had so many years ahead of them. Their first year had been extremely enjoyable, yet overrun with controversy and several near-death experiences (some, of which, were unintentional). And the twins were almost certain that the next six years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be hard-pressed to contend with their first.

It wasn't long before they noticed the fanned displays of newspapers scattered throughout the room that had been personally arranged by their brother. George stopped when they came across a fresh stack near the portrait hole.

"I guess if it weren't for Percy, Vindictus Viridian would have been stuck in that painting forever," he said with a shrug.

"Yes, but I would also be able to control my arms and legs!" Fred argued, as he used their newfound awkwardness to stumble dramatically into the perfectly ordered stack of newspapers.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?!" shouted a voice from the crowd.

"Percy, don't bring Heavens into this," Fred responded, as George helped him to his feet.

Their brother stormed over to reorganize the shuffled editions of the Daily Prophet. When he was finished, he glared suspiciously at them.

"There's something different about you two," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You've switched jumpers. How original..."

"He really is smart!" Fred declared.

"Wow," said George. "Well, a bet's a bet. What's that...three Knuts I owe you?"

"Four, actually. The original bet was if he even had a brain."

"That's right. I forgot. Four Knuts..."

"And your favorite comb."

"But that comb is my favorite!"

George dug into his pockets for loose change while Fred took one of the papers from the center of the stack to peruse the article they had read multiple times. Percy snatched it away from him.

"You never believed in me," he said depressingly. "And now...Percy Weasley is vindicated for unearthing Vindictus."

"That's not the heading of the article, you know," said Fred.

"It should've been."

George gazed back at the stairs leading to the dormitories, where the house-elves were bringing down their trunks and stacking them near the windows.

"It looks like your hallway was special after all," he noted, gesturing to their brother's trunk, where it still said, Percy Weasley, Minister of Magic Hallways in swirling white paint.

Percy scoffed at the twins. "Too bad it didn't translate to an award for special services to the school! They don't present them to just anybody. Last one they handed out was to a boy named Tom Riddle, some fifty years ago...I checked."

Fred and George leaned back for a moment, a wealth of understanding rushing over them that Percy failed to notice.

"Since this is an uncharacteristically civil moment between us," he began, rolling his eyes in reluctance. "I've been meaning to tell you both that, while you shouldn't have come to school knowing how to fly so well, and that your antics lost us the Quidditch Cup — and, in turn, the Inter-House Championship —"

"Was this meant to be a civil conversation?" Fred interjected.

"— I think you are quite spectacular on the broomstick. Better than both our brothers put together," Percy concluded, looking away uncomfortably. "I never said anything because...well...I'm a bit jealous. You made the Quidditch team. I did not."

"You were at the tryouts?" George asked in shock.

"Yes, if you must know every detail. I finally pulled up the courage. Did horribly, of course. I fell off the broom when I tried to swing the bat. Charlie had to rescue me from falling to my death. They were all laughing. I assumed you knew, but...since you never took advantage of my plight..." He lifted Scabbers' cage and dropped a few dried currants into his nest of hay. "It looks good on a curriculum vita, but...no matter. We'll just stick to our books and endeavor to earn the highest marks and accolades, shan't we?"

Their pathetic rat squeaked at them, before Percy sauntered off toward Alicia Spinnet, who unknowingly took the bait and opened one of the newspapers. Fred and George couldn't move — they were so stunned in the aftermath of praise from their usually disappointed brother. The boys almost felt bad for mocking Percy his entire life.

Almost.