A/N: Erm...its been used so many times. I've gained a new fondness for Fred and George and I've always been fond of Snape, so for some reason, I just HAD to write this. I apologize for any mistakes and I'm sorry about the writing -I'm in a bit of slump. I swear I used to be much better than this (the magic is gone!) Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Reviews are appreciated. Oh, and...after I actually, like...WROTE this, I realized that Fred and George had the ever-popular Lee Jordan as a sort of third, but I, uh...felt the need to disregard the existence of Lee Jordan. I never really paid attention to Lee Jordan, see...and erm, its a bit of a struggle for me as a horridfanfiction author to incorporate characters I never paid attention to. Once again, I apologize. Now, on with the story!


The Third

Chapter One: Fred And George, A History (And a Couple of Bludgers)

Fred and George Weasley were identical twins and very best friends. Inseparable since birth, they had taken advantage of every opportune moment to partake in zany hijinks and crafty pranks, building up their reputation as the infamous Weasley Twins, pranksters extraordinaire. They had started out young, wide-eyed, and bushy-tailed…literally. At the ripe, old age of four, George had snatched his mother's wand while she was busy bathing ickle Ronniekins in the sink and given Fred a tail. He had been so impressed with himself that he had handed the wand over to his tailed twin and encouraged immediate vengeance.

Molly, of course, had been absolutely horrified (quickly overridden by an unquenchable fury), and knew that she had made quite the error in judgment telling Arthur that she wanted another in the oven so soon after Percy's grand little entrance.

The twins wrought havoc inside The Burrow, the Weasleys' modest (ramshackle) home. Between their frequent scheming and her other five children, Molly Weasley often found herself at the end of her rope. Of course, this didn't mean to say the twins weren't loved.

Certainly – they were adored. Their mother might have even shed a tear when she sent them off to Hogwarts when they turned eleven, but nobody could be too certain. To this day, Ron and Ginny Weasley chalk the tiny drop up to the nasty cold their mother had been enduring since mid-August that year. They never told their brothers about the sigh of relief they heard after the Hogwarts Express started to coast noisily away.

But anyway, who really cares about the past? Fred and George lived in the now, and the now was their fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Their mother had been sorely disappointed when they had failed to make prefect, much to the twins' amusement. How could you have fun while burdened with extra responsibility, anyhow? They had shaken their heads, chuckling at her ridiculous expectations. Silly woman. Of course, Sir Pompous Percy hadn't failed to make Head Boy. They weren't bitter – certainly not! There really was nothing that delighted the duo more than their older brother's quickly fattening ego…

…Bloody vainglorious prat…

Ickle Ronniekins, now known as just plain Ron to his friends, was a third year. Fred and George were tremendously proud of their little brother – he was friends with Harry Potter! The savior of the wizarding world! More importantly, Harry was a celebrity. There was no bigger source of amusement in this world than the amusement spawned by a celebrity. Take that Gilderoy Lockhart git from their fourth year for example. There was no end to the joke they could make of him. Although, admittedly, they were fond of Harry. They liked to lessen his troubles by exaggerating them through improv acting. Like that time everyone thought Harry was heir of Slytherin and the twosome had a clove of garlic handy every time they happened to run into him. That was a laugh riot.

"Weasleys!" Professor Severus Snape now snapped. Fred and George looked up from their cauldron, smiles on their faces and mischievous glints in their eyes.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" Fred asked.

"Is there something we can do for you, sir?" George inquired.

"Anything at all?" Fred prompted, taking note of the way Snape's sallow skin turned a rather rosy shade of pink as the fury rushed through his veins. The twins exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. Clearly, anger suited the Potions Master.

"What are you brewing?" Snape hissed, ladling a bit of the potion out of the cauldron and slowly dripping it back in. "This isn't-"

"What you assigned," George cut him off dismissively.

"Precisely," Snape spat. "Explain."

Fred picked up a full vial and handed it to the angry professor. "Why, Professor, of course we wouldn't have a complete disregard for your instructions. As you can see-"

"- We already brewed it!" George finished. "We'd never-"

"-ever-"

"-Ever not have something ready for you at the end of class."

They beamed at Professor Snape, who was looking suspiciously first at the vial and then at the cauldron.

"That looks like-"

"It's not," George laughed.

"You're imagining things!" Fred told him.

"We'd never do something so dunderheaded-"

"-Right in front of you!" they chirped together.

There were snickers from their surrounding classmates who had overheard the entire conversation.

"SILENCE!" an irate Snape barked. The teacher then opened his mouth once more to insult them, to correct them and tell them that, yes, they most definitely would do something so dunderheaded in front of him because they obviously just did, but unfortunately, Professor McGonagall decided to enter at that moment.

"Severus, what is the yelling about?" the older professor asked wearily. Her thin lips were thinner than normal, meaning that someone was about to be in a good deal of trouble and her tone indicated that she was just a bit too tired to deal with them. With a homicidal maniac on the loose and dementors surrounding the school, everything had been getting to be just a bit too tiresome around Hogwarts that year.

"Blithering idiots…" Snape muttered by way of explanation. "What do you want, Minerva?"

"Why, Severus," she said testily, clearly not in the right mindset for his foul mood, "Two bludgers have gone missing from Madame Hooch's office and I think I know who last played with them. I simply wanted to ask Misters Weasley here if they had any idea where they happened to go."

"Us?" the twins asked innocently, subtly kicking their heavy booksacks beneath the table.

"Yes, you," McGonagall sighed. "Now honestly, if you hand them over now you'll only get a few detentions…"

"Wouldn't you hear them?" Fred asked reasonably.

"They are feisty little buggers after all," George pointed out. "They wouldn't just sit still and let us get on with our lessons, would they?"

Professor McGonagall had had enough. "Look, Weasleys. I know you have them. Nobody else would be fool enough to take them. What did you do? Put them in a full body bind? Would that even work? What do I have to say to get you to reveal yourselves as the culprits? Ennervate!?"

Much to everyone's surprise, including the irritated professor of Transfiguration, that did work. Two heavy book sacks made their way into the air struggling against the extra weight. The twins ducked before their heads were nearly bashed in.

Choruses of swears and yells of pain created a distressful cacophony in the dungeons as the booksacks awkwardly made their rounds around the classroom, hitting some, narrowly avoiding others. Professor Snape stood still, glaring down his long, hooked nose at the sheepish, redheaded boys.

"Erm…" said George.

"How did those get there?" asked Fred, smiling weakly.

Once again, Snape's mouth opened to reply, but before he could…

SPLASH.

One of the sacks (later Fred would claim that it was his, but George insisted that it was his own), landed right in the potion…dousing the infuriated Professor Snape with its contents.

The class sat in stunned silence as Professor Snape trembled with rage. At least they thought it was rage…the tremendous convulsing taking place might very well have had something to do with the fact that Professor Snape was rapidly shrinking…and his skin was smoothing out…and his hair was getting less greasy…

And all Fred could say was, "Blimey."

And all George could say was, "Well…I guess this means we're pretty horrid at potions."

The rest of the class was screaming. The twins didn't really listen to them. It was just some rubbish about Professor Snape having turned into a teenager, anyhow.


To be continued if you want more. :)