This popped into my head the other day, and I couldn't shake it out. A Fred and Angelina fic for all you Harry Potter fans. Hope you like!
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter. Do I look fake-blonde to you?
"Can you hear us?
"Do tell," George Weasley said in interest.
Mrs. Weasley entered the twin's untidy blue and yellow bedroom, a few school books in hand. She had found the worn tomes in the pantry-- strange, as she distinctly recalled packing them into Fred's trunk.
"Fred, I won't have you leaving your books behind. It's your first year and--what are you two doing?" she asked her twin horrors, whose backs were to her. They were leaning over what looked like a school trunk, apparently calling Ron.
They stiffened visibly as if she'd smacked them with a pair of hot pokers. Slowly, the two turned around, their bodies shielding the object on the bed.
"Oh, hello Mom."
"Lovely day isn't it?" Mrs. Weasley quirked a suspicious eyebrow. The older they got the denser they seemed to think she was.
"Makes you want to take a trip to Madam Malkin's, ay?"
"For a few hours at least."
"Top notch idea, Fred old thing. Mum deserves new dress robes."
"So now that that's settled, you should probably be off, Mum."
Mrs. Weasley did not look amused. "What are you two hiding? And why are you calling for Ron?"
It was Fred who gave the eloquent answer. "Uh, erm, well...ouch!" The twin lurched forward as if he'd been kicked from the back.
Mrs. Weasley marched towards them and impatiently moved her sons aside. What met her eyes was an open, battered trunk haphazardly stuffed with robes. The body of a nine-year-old boy, bottom in the air and a pair of flailing little limbs, was sticking out from the mess. An ordinary mother would have simply thought that the boy was scrambling in the trunk in search of something, but Mrs. Weasley was too experienced to jump to that conclusion. She took out the robes and curious-looking boxes and ducked her head into the trunk. She saw her youngest son's lanky torso, his long neck...and that was all. It looked as if he'd thrust his head into the trunk and it had come out on the other side.
Sometimes, Molly Weasley wished she had never had children.
No, strike that. Sometimes Molly Weasley wished she had never had the twins.
No, wait. Several times a day, Molly Weasley wished she had never had the twins. Needless to say, this was one of those special moments.
"Ron? Ron!" She whirled around to face Fred and George. Her eyes blazed like a bonfire as she shouted, "Where is his head? What did you do to this trunk! Have you splinched him?"
George unsuccessfully tried to stifle a guffaw as his mother set Ron upright so that he appeared to have an upside-down trunk for a head. Ron looked to be dancing an angry war dance, which the twins found highly amusing. Molly searched for his head on the outside bottom of the trunk, but that body part was not to be found. Between angry mutterings the poor woman tried pulling the trunk off her even poorer son, but the only result was a muffled protest.
"Ow, Momff yerten me!"
"Aparecium," she tried, but nothing happened.
George explained: "We didn't do anything to the trunk. It was like that to begin with. And no, we didn't splinch him; we're not even in first year yet!"
"Though it's an idea to store away," Fred mumbled.
"You see, we bought it from this chap on Diagon Alley, really cheap too. It's called a Stick-In-The-Mud Trunk. It works like quicksand that dries the second someone touches it. Isn't it brilliant?"
"Undo it now," she hissed.
The twins exchanged apprehensive looks. "Er, that's the problem." Fred shuffled his feet under his mother's angry stare. "We're not sure how."
"You don't know how!" Mrs. Weasley reverted to the ever-effective roar.
They shook their heads. "The fellow told us some reversal spell but it doesn't seem to be working now."
"What's the incantation?"
"I think it was Oonglutoi."
"Or p'raps Englanday," George supplied helpfully.
"Was it Glutton...ay?"
Before Mrs. Weasley could combust completely, her oldest, Bill, walked in. He blinked as he took in the scene of his mother simmering to her fingertips, his twin brothers trying to keep their faces straight, and his youngest brother with a trunk on his head.
Newly-graduated Bill Weasley looked questioningly at his mother. Mrs. Weasley's feathers were somewhat smoothed when she saw her tall, good-looking son in the doorway. "Yes Bill."
"The cars've come to take us to the station. And Dad was sort of wondering what all the...noise was about." He had been about to say "screaming," but was smart enough to stop himself. "What's Ron doing with a trunk on his head?" he couldn't help asking.
"It's a Stick-In-The-Mud Trunk," George began again, apparently not having tired of the explanation. "It--"
Mrs. Weasley rounded on him. "George Weasley you are not to say one more word unless it's the reversal spell. You and your brother are already in serious trouble."
Fred was irrepressible. "Now Mom, there's no need to punish Percy; after all he's such a good, hard-working..."
"UNDO IT, NOW!" she shrieked, her face turning beet-red. If a certain Harry Potter had been there he would have been stricken by the resemblance to his uncle. Unfortunately, Harry was currently struggling under his cousin Dudley's elephantine bottom, as the boy seemed to have mistaken Harry for a couch cushion.
"Mum?" Bill ventured. "Could I give it a go?"
Mrs. Weasley didn't trust herself to speak. Instead she nodded at him with pursed lips.
The eighteen-year-old walked over to his Stuck-In-The-Trunk brother. He gently knocked on the wooden bottom, perking an ear up. What he got was an infuriated stream of incomprehensible yells.
Then he began to chuckle. "Haha, I had one of these a few years back. It was a candy jar back then and your hand would get stuck..." He trailed off upon seeing the look on his mother's face. "Ahem. Well, I remember the reversal spell." He got his wand out and tapped the trunk, saying, "Inglutai."
There was a popping sound, like a cork coming out of a champagne bottle, and the trunk fell to the floor. A young, freckled boy stood before them. His red hair stuck out in places, he was panting, and his face was a deep crimson. Normally Ron didn't pose a threat to his twin brothers, but then, normally, Ron didn't look like a mad bull lusting for their blood.
"Uh, I think Dad's calling us, George."
"Right-o, we don't want to be late for our first train ride to Hogwarts."
And in a flash, they and their trunks were gone.
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was bustling with adult wizards and their children. Everywhere there were fond good-byes and a few muttered "good-riddances" as well. Fred Weasley grinned happily. Finally, he was going to the school that his two older brothers and his parents and so many relatives had attended before him: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The scarlet steam locomotive gave a hissing screech--the last call for all passengers.
Mrs. Weasley was doling out embraces and farewells with vigor. "Goodbye Charlie, goodbye Percy dear. Now Fred, George, you're to be on you're i>best /i> behavior, do you hear me?" Mrs. Weasley gave them each her stern look. "Mind the teachers and Professor Dumbledore."
Arthur Weasley nodded. "Yes, you heed Dumbledore, he's a fine man."
"Don't worry, Mom, Dad, we'll be the darling angels that none of your children ever were," Fred Weasley assured her.
"Yeah, when Errol learns to fly straight, " muttered young Ron. But he smiled nonetheless. The house would be quiet and probably boring at times without his older twin brothers to liven up the place. Maybe, he thought, he'd miss them.
"So long, Mum," said George, swinging his trunk so dangerously that it banged Ron in the head. Maybe not.
Fred patted his sister's brilliant red locks. He had a soft spot for the girl, who was trying to hold back her sniffles. "Bye, Ginny. Look out for our owls and a few...er, surprises."
"Fred," Mrs. Weasley said warningly.
"Oh, come on, Mom. You know you love us too dearly to send us to that stuffy finishing school in Switzerland." In a sudden burst of affection, he gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.
Looking somewhat pleased, but trying to hide it, Molly shook her head. "Now go on both of you."
"Bye, everyone," they called as they mounted the train. As if on cue, the train slowly began to leave the platform, and the twins watched the figures of their mother and father, Bill, Ron, and little Ginny all waving to them. Unconsciously, they both smiled. Not everyone had a family like theirs.
"Hey, you two, get your trunks in and find yourself a seat. And please don't disrupt the train with your antics. And don't sit next to Josephine Bulrush--she's been shoveling Norwegian fertilizer all summer."
"Oh, way to ruin a moment, Perfect Percy."
The twins opened the door to the first vacant compartment and galloped in.
They slid to a stop and in unison said, "Hullo,"
They took in the three boys seated before them. One was dark, with a pair of wicked brown eyes, black dreadlocks, and a toothy grin. They instantly liked the looks of him. The second had dirty blonde hair and broad shoulders. The last was a strapping boy with tousled brown hair and a determined face.
Introductions were made and it was learned that the first boy's name was Lee Jordan, the second was Algernon Chambers, and the third's name was Oliver Wood. Lee was a first year like them, but Chambers and Wood were second and third years, respectively. Thus, they already had houses, with Chambers in Ravenclaw and Wood in Gryffindor.
"Weasley?" Wood said. "Percy Weasley's brother then?" Evidently, Wood did not think much of Percy Weasley.
"Yeah. You think you've had it bad these last two years-- try putting up with him since birth," George said with a tired look.
"Does that summer when he was volunteering at the Ministry count, George?"
"'Course it does, old thing. Don't you remember how we "visited" Dad and got Percy blamed for putting all those pixies in that Auror's desk?"
"Haha, and it was Mad-Eye Moody's too."
"Perce couldn't sit right for a week."
Chambers guffawed. "But you're Charlie and Bill's brother, too. They're a good sort. Charlie's been made Quidditch captain, hasn't he?"
The twins soon got settled in and began a riotous conversation with Lee, who seemed to have a love for troublemaking almost as strong as theirs.
"...and you should have seen her face when all those Cockroach Clusters swarmed out of the closet. My neighbor helped me jinx them to fly."
The company chuckled. Fred said, "Good thing you only have one sister to play tricks on, mate, or your mum would be as touchy as ours."
The door of their compartment opened again and a pretty, lithe girl stumbled in, her owl cage flying out of her hands. Fred deftly caught it while the indignant bird loudly voiced its disapproval.
"Oh, shut up, Zephyr," the girl said. She gave Fred a grateful smile as he put the owl out of everyone's misery by stowing the cage away. She heaved her trunk up and found a pair of willing hands helping her with it.
"I'm Angelina Johnson."
"George Weasley." They shook hands. "And this is my brother, Fred." It was odd, but whenever one twin was introduced, the other had to be introduced as well. "As you can see, I'm the better looking one."
Angelina laughed. "Nice to meet you."
Fred gave her a friendly grin. "First year?" he asked her.
"Yeah. My mum says I'll be hopeless if I don't go to a proper wizarding school, so here I am."
Fred's good-humored face held an air of interest. "Really? Our moms seem to think alike."
"How d'you mean?"
"Our mom said we'd be hopeless either way, but she thought Hogwarts would be better than Azkaban. For the prisoners' sake."
Another laugh. Angelina didn't seem at all fazed by her less-than-graceful entrance or the fact that she was the only girl there. Everyone liked her easy smile. Her sparkling, almond eyes were a help, too.
The group was a boisterous, jolly one all the way to Hogwarts, courtesy of Fred and George. Fred took to amusing everyone by doing a solemn imitation of Percy doing an Irish jig.
"He was trying to impress this Irish girl he'd met," George explained as Fred gracefully smacked into the wall. "Oy Fred, Percy alert," he said, as their brother's face appeared at the door window.
He came in, followed by sixth-year Charlie Weasley. Percy was trying to look very dignified and prefect-like, though he had two years left to become one. Fred continued his jig, seemingly unaware of his presence. Percy looked in confusion at his brother as he leaped up and kicked his feet. He didn't seem to realize who Fred was impersonating.
"I wanted to check on you two and make sure you put on your school robes; we're almost there. Fred don't be stupid, sit down."
"Shan't," replied Fred.
Charlie was holding his sides in laughter. "Can't you see who he is, Perce?"
Percy was suddenly hit by realization. Despite the interesting pink color his cheeks turned he said, "No, I don't. Well, do as I say you two, and stop playing the fool." Percy left the compartment trying to block out the hoots of laughter that followed him.
"Hallo Wood, Chambers," Charlie said in a friendly tone. George introduced him to Angelina and Lee with gusto. "You four'll have to take the boat to the school, alright?" Charlie said once Fred had tired out and flung himself into his seat.
"Roger that, Charlie. Oh, and could you see that Percy doesn't open his trunk until he gets to the school? We want to see his face when he does."
Charlie raised an eyebrow at George. "Why? What did you do to it?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just make sure you get some clothespins ready for our noses."
Charlie shook his head. "You're going to make Perce miserable this year."
Fred winked at him. "'Course we're not. It's lucky for him we're going to Hogwarts now and we can keep our eyes on him."
"Or vice versa. Well, see you later."
Angelina sat nibbling on a Chocolate Frog, looking thoughtfully at the card that had come with it. It was one of Dumbledore. "So, how do we get sorted into houses? Is there some sort of duel or something?"
Fred leaped at the chance of fabrication. "Oh no. It's nothing much. Just that it involves trolls and a few werewolves. "
"Really?" Angelina said, half-believingly.
"Yeah. And if Dumbledore feels like it, he'll bring out the chimaera." He was hit by a well-aimed wad of candy wrapper.
"Shouldn't have asked you." Angelina turned to an amused Wood, who began explaining about the Sorting Hat.
"Get your robes Fred, and let's change."
Fred got his robes from his knapsack. "Whatever you say, Cap'n. Let's just hope Professor Dumbledore hasn't unleashed any chimaeras or trolls into the lavatories."
I'm not positive about where this is going, but there will be some more Fred/Angelina interaction to come. Tell me what you think!