Danger Is Our Middle Names

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. (Or his trilogy.) Harry Potter and all elements of this one shot are copyright to J .K. Rowling. (Goddess Of The Wizarding World, Not Married To Merlin) Nothing in this chapter is meant to happen in Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows, nor do I think J. K. Rowling ever add the words of a 15 year old, cocoa-addicted lunatic to her wonderful stories. (Not a werewolf, people, you don't need to run away unless you're already scared of my miniscule knowledge/miniscule knowledge of humour.) All other elements are also copyrighted to their respective owners. In other words, I own nothing but this fanfiction.

A/N: Just a warning. Ahead of you, you will find sadistic humour, unbelievable amounts of pointless banter, bad language, and quite enough scenes that may scar you for life. Do not take the sexist jokes or the insults to certain fictional characters seriously, please. They are just opinions I think the twins would have through my eyes. (And I certainly would not agree with them…) Oh, and sorry about the bad summary. Sadly, the Maximum Character Limit for summaries didn't have enough room for my original summary.

Now! (Puts on a hat and a strange stereotypical accent) On vith the show!

It was a quiet night in London. Considerably quiet given the events of the past year or so. The time in which the Ministry Of Magic had officially announced the return of the Dark Lord Voldemort, perhaps the most feared wizard of all time, and his followers. The time, in which, many witches and wizards have frantically both prepared and braced themselves for any attacks they might, in some way, become involved in.

But not the twins, Fred & George Weasley, oh no. The two 19 year old brothers; who had already started a successful (if that's what your mother would want to call it) business at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, their very own joke shop located in Diagon Alley, did not seem to give too much of a damn about 'U-No-Poo'. Even after the 'untimely' death of Albus (Percival Wulfric Brian) Dumbledore and the permanent scarring of their eldest brother -Bill Weasley- by the notorious werewolf, Fenrir Greyback.

Both the twins were trudging along moodily in the wet puddles and muck, signifying what must have been a terrible storm mere hours ago.

The two twins had their own problems right now. Problems, in fact, that they were only just informed about a few hours ago.

The time was 9pm. The weather outside was trecharous. Lightning and thunder seemed to be in a deadly battle with each other, both working non-stop to bring the other down.

George Weasley was sitting a swivel chair, labeled in red writing 'Property Of George Weasley. Yes, Fred, This Means Bugger Off And Don't Touch It!' minding his own business and juggling hinkypuffs. When suddenly…


George fell off his chair from the shock of the noise. The poor creatures that had become a victim of his new hobby each falling, in a line, on top of him.

"Can't you bloody read!!? The sign says 'CLOSED' in big, bold black letters!" George spat out, at nothing in particular. He got up moodily, taking out his pocketed wand and pointing it at the source of the disturbance.

Nothing was there. Only the sound of the thunder and lightning outside filled the creepy silence that now occupied the shop.

George was apprehensive now.

"Fred? … Fred!!" George yelled around him, somewhat hoping that Fred would jump out of the corner and shout 'April Fools! Happy birthday, brother!!' with two bottles of firewhiskey.

"This better not be a joke, and I don't mean that metophorically!" George quavered, his wand hand shaking.

"Hello, son."

George nearly jumped out of his dragonskin jacket and took a trip up and through the ceiling. The figure of the voice who had spoken was standing right beside him.

"Trick or treat." Said the figure once more. The figure was the smiling form of a thin, balding man wearing glasses, and what remained of his hair was as flaming red as both Fred's and George's. He was wearing a travelling cloak, a pink travelling cloak.

"Dad!" George breathed an anguished sigh of relief. "… Hallowe'en came and went!" He frowned. "Are you really a death eater who took a vial of polyjuice potion or are making sure I die young?" he spoke, jokingly, as though it was a way of formal greeting.

Arthur Weasley then shuffled a little out of guilt. "Sorry about the… um… rude entrance. I had to get in here as soon as possible. It's like a warfield between thunder and lightning out there. Forget You-Know-Who, I wouldn't be surprised if we're all dead tomorrow because of that ruddy storm."

"Okay, let's get off the subject of death now…" George muttered, clearly wanting to take his mind off the incessant (lethal might be a better word) storm.

"The storm burst the door down, George?" This was an excited voice, identical to George's, and it was coming from upstairs.

"You only just figured that out? And no, it's just dad!' George called up to his identical twin brother.

A pair of feet started stomping their way down the stairs, and then Fred jumped off the banister he had started sliding down and said "Hey dad! What's up? Ginny gone and spoken to weird teenage perverts enchanted into diaries again?"

"No-"Arthur gave Fred a stern look as though that was a forbidden topic to joke about. "Actually, I was sent here by the Order-"

"Of the Phoenix?" Fred cut in smiling. "If you want some more Shield Hats-"

"No, it's not that." Arthur held up both hands. "You see, we have a mission for you two."

The twins looked at each other, eyes widened in what looked like surprise.

They didn't really know what to say. They weren't exactly reluctant about doing tasks for the Order, and the mission shouldn't really interfere with 'business'. (Said business was now dropping due to a certain 150-year-old wizard's death at the hands of a certain slime-ball with greasy hair and a hooked nose.)

Many knew that the only man Lord Voldemort himself feared was Albus Dumbledore. And what with, perhaps, Voldemort's only fear now resting dead in the grounds of Hogwarts… Let's just say Fred & George didn't blame anybody for feeling nervous.

They decided not to go against their rather uncalled-for employment.

"Butterbeer, anybody?" said George, more out of the blue than anything.

"Please." Both Fred and Arthur said, almost at the same time.

George walked off out of sight, leaving Fred and their father to talk.

"So dad, what is this… 'Mission'?" Fred asked, as he picked up the scuttling hinkypuffs and put them in their cage.

"Well…" Arthur was now frowning and looking at the ground. Fred frowned along at his father's sudden change of behaviour. Whatever the reason was, it couldn't be a good one…

"We thought that… You two would be pretty much cut out for the job. You seem to be the luckiest men on Earth right now." Arthur chuckled lazily. "You've left that door unprotected for weeks now and I-"

At this remark, the colour drained from Fred's face. His head swivelled round to face the direction George had walked off into. "George, you prat!! I thought I told you to perform the curse on that bloody door!" He yelled across to his brother.

"It told you to perform the curse, actually, Fred!!" George retorted from the other room. "Jeez, we'll be murdered in our beds if you're not a little more careful!"

Fred pulled a face and gaped angrily. He then muttered "Stupid git…" and fell silent, gazing angrily at the hinkypuffs as though it was their entire fault.

The tiny creatures noticed this and cowered to one side of their cage in a huddle.

Arthur seemed to be half-smiling, half-frowning. "I'll perform it. Besides, with the amount of jinx magic in this shop, I should think you'll find a dead body on the floor one morning even without the curse, and it won't be any of yours."

"Ah yeah!!" Fred jumped up from his chair, beaming. "Now I remember! George and me performed a charm on the fanged Frisbees so that they'd attack anyone with a dark mark who came to the door! Plus, we have some extendable ears fixed there all the way up to our rooms so we'll hear if anyone's coming."

"Oh yeah! Remember that time it backfired and started chasing that guy with a tattoo somewhere on his butt?" George had come back in with the three butterbeers on a tray, he was smirking at his own words.

"Oh Merlin, do I remember." Fred laughed and took a butterbeer from the tray. "So, dad, about this mission…?" He started downing the butterbeer all in one go.

"Okay, I'll get it straight with you." Arthur twitched nervously in his seat, not wanting to touch his butterbeer yet, as it seemed. "We thought that you could convince Snape to give us information on Horcruxes."

Arthur blurted out that last sentence a little too quickly.

Fred, who seemed to understand what his father had told them despite how quickly it had come out, choked on his butterbeer. The contents of the glass spilled all over his lap, and the contents that were currently in his mouth slopped all down his front so that Fred looked like he had rabies.

"Convince a grape to give us what?" George chimed, pulling a face. Obviously not catching Arthur's words as quickly as his twin brother had.

"I said… Convince Snape to give us information on Horcruxes."

Arthur recited the words more slowly that time.

It was George's turn to choke on his butterbeer, luckily not spilling his own glass as he had put it down on the table after taking a long sip. "What!?" He cried out incredulously to his father. "Are you asking us to go within a few feet of that schizophrenic lunatic and ask him a question!!?" George stood up, making hand gestures as if they fit well with what he was saying.

"Yes… Pretty much." Arthur nodded grimly, chuckling nervously again.

"Are you mad!? We'll be killed!" Fred yelled, having finally cleared himself up with a towel he had conjured using his wand.

"I'm sure you won't be killed." Arthur reassured them, though he didn't sound very sure himself. "You don't need to be in close range of Snape. Besides, you're allowed to go armed. Nobody's stopping you-"

"And who suggested we do this?" Fred asked, cutting his father off abruptly. "Who's the wise guy that suggested we go and talk to Snape of all people!? Which absolute megalomanic, homicidal, thickheaded bastard suggested we do such a thing? … Of course, if it's you dad, I wouldn't call you that." Fred waved his hands in front of his father as if trying to deny something; sounding a lot like his own mother. "I'd just think you were on drugs or something."

Fred smiled as though that was an appropriate comment to make. He avoided George's gaze, as he was pretty sure that if he looked at those two eyes, he would soon have a hole burnt through his head.

"It wasn't me, I assure you." Arthur broke off and sighed. "Remus was the one who suggested you go and see Snape."


Both the twins simultaneously rose from the chairs they had rested their bottoms back on mere seconds ago.

"He what!? He did-Is he finally off his rocker!!?"

Both the twins liked Lupin. Heck, they even looked up to him as both perhaps the best Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher there could ever be and, after much explaining, one of the four greatest pranksters there ever was in Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft & Wizardry. But now… Let's just say they were a little taken aback and Lupin's sudden 'urge' to 'have them murdered'.

It took Arthur a while to reply. He seemed to be preparing for a long, explanatory speech. And so he was: "You see… Harry told us what those private meetings, those meetings with him and Dumbledore during his sixth year, were about. It took time and compromising, of course, but Harry eventually decided it would be safe to spill some information to the Order. He told us that he and Dumbledore were looking at old memories Dumbledore had managed to gather, memories concerning You-Know-Who's past. The memories were poured into Dumbledore's pensive and the two, eventually, managed to find out that You-Know-Who had managed to create his own horcruxes. 7 horcruxes, they estimated."

"7 horcruxes?" Both the twins droned in horror, gaping at each other.

"The bloke's even more mental than Lupin." Fred announced, as if it were official news that was vital to hear, and making a swirling finger gesture towards his cranium. He slapped his hands on his lap as if to represent a full stop.

"These Horcruxes-" Arthur continued. "-are the key to You-Know-Who's immortality. Once they are all destroyed, You-Know-Who will no longer be immortal. But some of the horcruxes have been enchanted with magic so powerful… That if you were to attempt to destroy the horcrux, you would be destroyed along with it."

George suddenly recovered. "So, does the Order know what all the Horcruxes are and where they're located?"

"We know what most of the horcruxes are… The diary Ginny had written in during her first year was a horcrux, and Harry destroyed that,-" -The twins' eyes widened.-"-and we think that Slytherin's locket may have already been destroyed." Arthur explained, he was ready to continue but then stopped. "The other horcruxes aren't really important for me to list right now. What is important is that you get the information from Snape about how to destroy those horcruxes without destroying yourself."

"In more ways that one…" George muttered icily, glaring at the floor as though it was to blame for this sudden turn of events.

Arthur sympathetically patted both Fred & George on the shoulder at the same time, using one hand for each twin. "You'll be okay. I have complete faith in you and your abilities."

Fred and George looked a little too glumly at their father. Their father responded, also, with a very grim expression.

"Dad…" Said Fred, looking up.

"Yes, son?" Arthur replied, looking towards Fred.

"I wanted to ask you something since I saw you." Fred looked serious for once.

"Ask away…"

"Why are you wearing a pink travelling cloak?" Fred asked, pulling a face as though disgusted.

Arthur Weasley took off the cloak and examined it, as though having just noticed it for the first time. "Ah, yes, the colour fuchsia is the latest Muggle fashion.-"

"Dad…" George abruptly cut him off with a wave of his wand "Pink items of clothing are something Muggle women might wear. What you obviously think is the latest Muggle fashion is the latest Muggle women's fashion. No wonder thunder and lightning love this place so much, they must fancy you or something!"

Arthur himself turned a bright shade of fuchsia at those words and simply muttered an "Oh…"

"Okay, off the topic of women's clothing-" Fred said; though he seemed rather reluctant to change the subject after the mentioning of women's clothing, perhaps hoping that the conversation would lead to a mentioning of woman's undergarments. But with a father in their midst, that would be highly inappropriate. "When should we be leaving? And where the Hell would a dirty murderer be at a time like this?"

"As soon as possible, and we've located Snape somewhere in the East of London." Arthur said. George was about to open his mouth and ask for the exact location, but stopped as he saw Arthur take a map out of his pocket, unfold it on the counter and point to a coordinate on the map. "That is the exact location." He announced.

"Great… Geography." The twins droned unenthusiastically together.

"The stupid bloody werewolf must be drinking ripple, or something." Fred muttered crossly, kicking a stone into a nearby brick wall.

The two were now walking across a deathly quiet, gloomy street in the East of London. It was a quarter-past-two in the morning. A lot of the streetlights didn't work, either because their bulbs had been vandalised or because the electricians simply hadn't bothered to change them.

"Exactly what I was thinking. We're the last people you would ask to do a job like this." George muttered miserably.

"What good is Lupin to the Order if he's using us as scapegoats?" Fred said, sounding rather stressed, the latter confirmed when he started pulling on his hair.

"Well, we both know the only thing Lupin's good for nowadays is snogging 'Dora' when nobody's watching." George replied, smirking.

"Hoo, yeah!" Fred cooed, smirking along and cheering up at the newfound topic of 'Lupin-bashing'. "Wait until I tell Sirius who 'Remmie's' been messing around with. He's not going to be very pleased."

George stopped in his tracks. "Are you saying the following: Sirius and Lupin are gay lovers, and that we're going to die?"

Fred sighed. "I believe I am, dear brother…"

"… But dad assured us that we-"

"Oh! No, I didn't mean now!!" Fred laughed, though it sounded like a very nervous laugh. "Everyone's gotta die some time, y'know."

"Yeah. And hopefully, I won't be dying anywhere near you." George chuckled.

"Now that was rather nasty. Why not?" Fred said, facing George with a rather hurt look on his face.

"I know what kind of 'ritual' you perform on the dead, brother. Well, the dead hinkypuffs anyways-"

"Speaking of hinkypuffs," Fred interrupted, "why do you insist on using them as juggling balls?" he cocked eyebrow and pulled a face.

"Because I can't use my own." George said as though this was a simple question.


"… My own juggling balls! You know, the ones upstairs. They're still covered in that ball of gas' dog slobber."

"And you haven't bothered to clean them using magic?" Fred asked him exasperatedly, as though annoyed by his brother's incompetence linking so well with his own dirty mind.

"… Bugger. I'll do that later." George said, as though reminded that he needed a shower.

George observed the scene around him. "Rather quiet down here… Don't you think?"

Fred kicked an empty, abandoned coke can. "Ever since the start of the whole sodding war against Voldypants, everything's been quiet, George."

"No, I meant too quiet." George mused, looking around.

"Well of course it's quiet." Fred rolled his eyes. "Snape wouldn't exactly want to enter a nightclub, sporting bling and spouting out teenage slang, now would he? Murderers have to keep themselves incognito, idiot."

"How'd you figure that out?" George asked his brother, a hint of both suspicion and unsure sarcasm in his voice.

"Lupin said so once during an Order meeting. He was referring to Vold." Fred explained, again using another pet name for perhaps the most evil wizard who ever lived.

"Yeah, he'd know all about murder, wouldn't he?" George growled. "And I'm not just referring to our lovely looking white-skinned antagonist…"

"I wonder if wolf-man made us do this as a cover up so everybody would worry about us and not notice them having sex?" Fred said merrily, somehow seeing the mention of Lupin as a hint that George wanted to get back to insulting the very man who was responsible for their current situation.

"Not something I'd like to think about, cheers…" George said, wincing at the disturbing images that now filled his head.

The two reached the end of the long line of barred up houses and came to a bridge crossing the River Themes. There on the bridge, looking down into the water as though watching his reflection in the dark night lit up by stars and the full moon, stood a cloaked figure. He was, undoubtedly, a Death Eater. The Death Eater the twins were quite sure was Severus Snape.

The twins crept to a nearby house behind them and hid behind the alleyway. Before they could approach Snape, they first had to figure out how they must approach him. The two looked at each other as if expecting the other to speak.

"Alright George, throw me a bone here. How exactly do you propose we approach this raving loon?" Fred asked his brother, as though it were a normal conversation.

"Don't ask me." George shrugged, also as though this might be a normal conversation. "I dunno how his mind operates."

"Yeah, but he taught you Potions-!"

"He taught us Potions, rather badly albeit, you just didn't pay attention and started doodling pictures of bras and thongs." George smirked, supposedly recalling a time when Snape caught Fred doing the latter.

"Oi! And I suppose that makes you the goodie-goodie, does it, unicorn-doodler-boy?" Fred retaliated.

George frowned. "Well, his classes bored the Hell out of me. And everyone else, for that matter…" he muttered.

"Oho!" Fred cried in a Slughorn-manner and snapped his fingers, signifying that an idea had come to his rather thick skull. "I have an idea."

"You do, what is it? George asked his brother, obviously surprised at his quick grasp of such an enigmatic answer to such a bugger-all-question.

Fred ran out from the alley and right towards the bridge where Snape was standing.

"What the… Are you insane!? Get back here!" George hissed, running after Fred.

Severus Snape looked down into the swirling river that stretched out right across the country and into the sea. He seemed entranced by the calm, alluring flow of the water's molecules. Lost in his own thoughts…

Water had been the element associated with his house, Slytherin, back in Hogwarts as a boy. Slytherin, in his opinion, was the only house in that school worthy of such admiration. It was so because of its House Founder's immense influence and power. Voldemort himself was a descendant from the Salazar Slytherin bloodline; the only one left, in fact. Voldemort, too, was a Slytherin back in his school days. Slytherin's now mortal enemies, the Gryffindors, were not worthy of such admiration. Especially, oh especially, not 'The Boy Who Lived'. The boy whose name was Harry Potter. Harry's father, James, was a Gryffindor in Snape's year and the two had loathed each other from day one. The same loathing passed on to the next generation, the Potter's only son. Only this time, the situation was different. Snape was the teacher and Harry was the student. Snape had total power and control over Harry in his classroom. He knew what would make the boy angry and would use it to his own advantage. Oh yes, Snape took great pleasure in watching Harry suffer. It was like watching his good-for-nothing father suffer. It felt like getting revenge for the past sins of Harry's father and his father's friends Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Black was dead, so there was no way he could get revenge on a dead man, especially with no body to get said revenge on. Pettigrew was well under control. Lupin had not suffered enough yet, and Snape made a mental note in his head to one day catch up with Lupin and… 'Amend the past'.

Snape snapped out of his trance as the sound of running footsteps, echoing in the distance, reached his ears. He pointed his wand at the source of the noise, then lowered it when he saw that the noise was merely issuing from the dopey feet of the identical Weasley twins, Fred & George. Snape stuffed his wand back in his pocket, they were not worth killing.

"Oi!! Big nose!"

Or maybe it would be necessary…

"Yeah, I'm talking to you, Snivellus Snape!" The last two lines of speech had issued from the abnormally large mouth of the hyperactive Fred Weasley.

George had caught up with Fred, the two were now standing around 10 feet away from a glowering Snape. The second twin cleared his throat and tried to play along, it being too late to turn back. "Um… Fred and I were sent by your exact opposite to try and convince you to join the good side. Which I think is a great idea!" George turned around and, what he thought was rather discrete, spat on the ground. "You know…" And on that note, George started singing, badly: "'Always look on the bright side of life!'" Thankfully, he stopped there. "Dumbledore would want you to think of that! Ehehe…"

"Yeah, we all know that you were the one who murdered Dumbly-Doors." Fred tutted. "What a naughty boy you are!"

"Look, mate, please, please, please join the good side!" George literally got down on his knees at that moment and got into a begging position.

"We have cockroach clusters." Fred smiled, conjuring up a plate full of them. "All of them especially for you, m'Lord."

"You're an ungrateful bastard."

"But not an evil one."

"Just a slimy one. Look deep down inside and find the little bit of beating red blood cell carrier that you have left!"

"Come on, slimy bastard. Whaddya say? We'll play twister!" Fred put on a cheesy grin and put an arm around his now standing brother, who followed in suit.

Snape was absolutely stunned, but he didn't show it for too long. Taking out his wand again, he yelled "AVADA KEDAV-!!!"

Only to be interrupted by Fred. "Oh bollocks. RUN, George, RUN!!" Both the twins then started running, as fast as their legs would carry them, across the riverbank.

George was brave enough to look back, and found Snape running after them and casting spells which wandered aimlessly past them, this strange un-Snape-like aim was the only thing that could tell them that they hadn't exactly charmed Snape over to the good side, but done quite the contrary.

"Well, bugger me, George…"

George turned back to listen to his brother; something that he really didn't want to do, but being as he had nothing better to do than to run for his life… "I think we just cocked it all up back there." Fred announced, smiling like a dope and laughing strenuously.

"You think!?" George yelled, gaping at him. "You bloody think!?"

Fred nodded.

George paused, but only in speech for pausing in running would be suicidal. "… I didn't know you could think…" He said, looking at his brother as though he were something unknown to the face of the Earth. "Wonder what dad's gonna say…" George said grimly, lowering his head a little.

Fred paused, obviously trying to think (gasp) of a solution to it all. "… George, go back and ask Snape to give us a second chance."

George gaped at him again. "Are you fucking serious!?"

"No, he's dead, poor bloke."

"Oh shut up, that joke is lame!" George snapped at him. He calmed down a little after the two had hidden behind one of another bridge's brick walls. "No way, you berk! The bloke is firing green death rays in every possible direction!" He tugged hold of his dragonskin jacket. "Just think of what he'll do to my-!"

"George, there's a little more at stake here than a bunch of animal's skin darned into a piece of clothing!"

"Okay, look, we'll toss a galleon on it, okay?" George took a galleon out of the pocket of his beloved dragonskin jacket.

"Works for me…" Fred shrugged, knowing he could just non-verbally jinx the little piece of glinting gold so that it was double sided.

He did so.

"Heads or tails?" George asked him.

"Tails as always, dear-" Fred started having coughing spasms, though to the trained ear they would have probably sounded like the word 'gullible'. "-brother." Fred smirked. Clearly, using heads was bad luck as he didn't have much of one himself.

George eyed him suspiciously. "Bad cough, Fred?"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." Fred continued smiling maliciously.

Mistakening such confidence for nothing more than normal behaviour on Fred Weasley's part, George shrugged off all suspicions and flipped the galleon into the air.

As the galleon landed, it slipped in-between his fingers and fell to its doom.

A drain that had suddenly appeared, from out of nowhere, on the ground.

Fred instantly took back his so-called 'commandment' that tails was always a winner.

The two twins stared at each other, wide eyed, before realisation of what had just happened sunk in.

"NO!!!" Both of the twins dropped to the ground, but the galleon had long since fallen down and out of their reach. Unfortunately it had not landed in a safe crack of mud at the sides. But no, the sodding thing had fallen all the way down and into the sewage.

"My baby!!" Fred cried out. "You were a sure win, I even jinxed you to win!"

"You WHAT!?"

"Umm… Nothing." Fred smiled innocently.

"That was my lucky galleon!!" George yelled out dramatically, seeming to forget all about his brother's cheating.

"Not so lucky if it fell down a drain, is it?"

George glared at Fred.

Fred looked absolutely petrified.

"And so you should be scared!" George grinned, placing his hands on his hips, turning around and waggling his bottom at Fred.

Unfortunately, George had looked up.

George immediately stopped with the bum waggling. His smirk turned upside down and his eyes widened. There, grinning and standing within a 5-foot range of them, was Severus Snape.

"Only your galleon will suffer a much less severe fate." Snape curled his lips into a smile, which absolutely terrified George as he had never seen Snape smile like that before. Not ever. Not even when he deducted points from Gryffindor.

George pulled Fred to his feet and the two backed up.

"Umm… Sorry about calling your abnormally large nose big."

George kicked his brother in the shin.

"What shall the story of your death be?" Snape put a finger to his chin, turning his head to one side and wearing a curious expression as if pondering. "Perhaps we should create a new one? Strangled to death and devoured by the giant squid?" Snape seemed to enjoy pondering over ways of committing a murder. "Should it be quick, or should it be painfully slow?"

"I'll take quick, please." Fred announced, after a few seconds.

George kicked him in the shin again. "That was a rhetorical question, you idiot!" He hissed in Fred's ear.

Snape stopped, rooted to the spot. "Or perhaps rather like your two uncles. Gideon & Fabian Prewett? Oh yes, that would be such a fitting way for the two of you to go." Snape smirked. "And I shall enjoy being the one to commit the murder." Snape finally moved, taking strides forward as if they were in trouble in the classroom.

Fred & George, in turn, took equal strides backwards. Not watching where they were going, they eventually noticed that there was no floor and, indeed, no water beneath them. Before they knew it, the two red-haired twins were tumbling down a steep tunnel, or a hole as one might call it from staring at the pitch-black entrance, down towards the underground.

Snape, who was only just aware that the two had been so stupid as to walk backwards into the hole of mysteries, was about to stride in and go after them when his eye caught the footprints of what had caused such a large, deep hole. His lips, once again, curled into a smile.

He turned around, walking directly away from the tunnel, looking quite pleased with himself and with what might await the twins down below.

Much screaming, and pauses for breath, was heard as the twins fell down the so-called 'tunnel'. The screaming finally ceased once they both landed in yet another sodding tunnel under the under-sodding-ground of London. It was pitch black.

"Fred, gimmie your wand."

"I left it back at the joke shop."

"You WHAT!?"

"I didn't think I'd need it-"

"Didn't think you'd need it! Didn't think you'd-!! God, you're hopeless! You really are!!" George stamped his foot on the ground after he had untangled himself from Fred's unusually squid-like limbs.

"Oi then, let's see your piece of bark, Mr. I-am-so-high-royal-and-mighty-that-I-think-I'm-the-King-of-sodding-England-and-thus-can-tell-my-twin-brother-what-to-do!"Fred retaliated.

It took George a while to answer. "I left it back at the joke shop, too..." He admitted.

"Oh, well there you go then! Stupid bawling hypocrite."

"I thought you had yours!"

"Then you're obviously not as smart as you seem to make out, are you?"

"Okay, look! Arguing is going to get us nowhere." George abruptly cut in, clearly stressed out. He took some deep breaths and then continued. "Now, did you bring a light source of some description?"

"I brought a jar full of fireflies."

"… What would you need with a jar full of fireflies, might I ask, Frederick?"


"Oh for God's sake, give me them!!"

George emerged from the end of the tunnel and found himself in a place rather like the Department of Mysteries. He even started to consider whether this place really was the Department of Mysteries or if the darkness around him was deceiving him in similar ways a mirage did.

Of course, this was just wishful thinking.

There was no golden statue. Only a deep pit in-between two sets of tunnels on two separate walls that looked as though they might, like the tunnel they had fallen down, go on forever. Thankfully, the two spotted a wide bridge to their right and walked over to it.

"This is rather like playing Tomb Raider, eh George?" Fred looked around.

"We're not in a pyramid, we're underneath London." George countered, knowing of the Muggle game that featured that particularly 'hot' fictional character, Lara Croft. "And it's safe." He mused after a few seconds.

Though, of course, that may not be entirely true.

As the twins walked along the dried, crusted underground earth, they then continued with their bashing of Remus John Lupin.

"You'd think that the amount of times those two have been alooooone"-Fred had made a gesture and sound to the word 'alone' so that he looked, and sounded, rather like Timone off The Lion King when he was referring to Simba and Nala.-"-on business, they've already had more kids than our mum!"

"Fred, you'd better thank Merlin that we are at least 50 km diagonally away from our mother."

"I can't thank Merlin, we're probably going down to sodding Hell right now. Merlin doesn't speak with devils like us too often. Well, anyways, I can just picture them all, can't you? Lupin Junior #1, what have I told you about disembowelling and assaulting stray cats!? Lupin Junior #2, stop gnawing on the ironing board-"

"Bless them. Wonder if greasy top's gonna be their best man?"

"But of course. And Lockhart would make such a lovely flower-girl…"

A rustling sound caught George's ears.

"Fred, move!" George pushed himself and his brother to one side, both landing on the floor, dangerously close to the edge of the bridge. A bunch of bats, more than just disturbed by the twins, flew off to find another patch of ceiling to slumber on. "False alarm."

"Oh thanks, George, I nearly fell off and into the pit of doom back there!" Fred spat out ungratefully, still on the floor from the impact of George's push.

"Sorry." George stepped over his brother.

Fred looked at George with a gaping mouth and frowned. "Aren't you going to help me up?"

George shrugged. "You have arms, use them."

"Bloody git!" A rock connected with George's head before Fred picked himself up from the floor.

"Ow, that sodding hurt!!"


The two continued walking.

"How about this, I'll be Batman and you be Robin. That way, you have to assist me!" Fred said, putting his hands on his waist.

"You mean that Muggle thing dad spazzes over?"

Fred nodded.

"Piss off, I don't want to be Robin!" George spat.

"Alright then. I'll be Robin and you can be Batman. Robin could flick Batman away any day…" Fred flicked a bit of air, as though proving his point.

"Nuh uh!!" George folded his arms. "Batman would so kick Robin's scrawny little ass any day of the week!"

"Depends on what Robin you're referring to, Georgie." Fred smirked at the reaction on George's face after he realised that had been referred to by such a girlish nickname.

"What's that meant to mean?" George asked in a monotone, glowering at Fred.

"There's four Robins. One's a girly girl, so she don't count. Dick-" Fred snorted at such a name. George, for once, didn't seem to be in the mood for snorting so immaturely. "-Grayson, who is awesome. Tim Drake. Err, no comment… And I forgot who the other one was… Oh yeah, Jason-!"

"I wasn't asking about some sidekick who doesn't have the decency to put trousers on, you geek, I'm asking you why you called me Georgie!"


"Eurgh, George, did you just rip off!?" Fred wafted his hand in front of his face.

"NO!!!" George shot back indignantly.

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrr…" The growling seemed to be multiplying, getting nearer and louder with every passing second.

Something clicked in George's mind. "Fred… What moon is it tonight?"

"It's a moon, George." Fred said in a patronizing tone.

George clouted Fred at the back of the head. "No, arsehead, I meant whether it was a full moon or-"

"Oh yeah! It was full, weren't it?" Fred said as though it were exciting news.

"And, um, didn't Lupin mention something about the werewolves, you know the ones following Voldemort, retreating underground?"

Fred dropped his 'lantern' (the jar of fireflies, with a bent up piece of rod stuck to it using Sellotape) and his eyes widened. The jar, thankfully, was not so breakable and landed perfectly on the floor. "Yeah… Y-Yeah, he did mention something like that."

George suddenly shivered. "Then what do suppose that is growling at us?"

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!" The sound was coming from a form of a wolf's head, which was the host of an evil, aggressive face and was standing right behind George.

Both the boys turned slowly, as though delaying their bloody death. They were wishing the ground would, somehow, swallow them up and drop them back in their nice, cosy shop.

When they did manage to turn their heads as far as they would go, however, they found themselves facing a pack on extremely angry canine creatures, their teeth bared and their eyes crossed to slits so that only about one hundred pair of evil, bloodshot yellow eyeballs seemed to be showing.

"Now would be the time to… You know… Slowly back away. Then start running for our fucking lives and all that crap..." Fred cut in nervously.

"And all that crap?" In any other situation, George would have laughed, but now was not the time.

The two twins backed away, the werewolves followed. They all paused as the two stopped backing away. The twins decided to play around for a while, but when they started moonwalking, the werewolves growled, clearly trying to say that they had tagged along quite enough to this game of 'Simon Says' for once night. That was the twins' signal to start running, and so they did, the werewolves following them and barking menacingly.

"We need to find a way out of here, George, or we're werewolf mince!" Fred whined.

"I'm well aware of that!!" George snapped, looking at the tunnels ahead. He then started squealing like an eight-year-old girl. "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAW-!!!"

George was suddenly silenced. By a hand. A hand that had connected to his head, making him fall flat on his face.

"Shut up, pansy, I'm trying to concentrate here!!" That was Fred's voice, he was facing the tunnels and appeared to be pointing at each one of them, as though they had all the time in the world and there was not a hungry pack of cannibals running after them.

Eeenie, meenie, minie-"

"Mo!" Fred yelled suddenly, he grabbed George and flung himself into another tunnel, the one next to the tunnel he named 'Mo', from which light was shining through.

They both fell through it.

But not through it, like Fred had hoped, but down it.

The werewolves reached the tunnel and stopped suddenly, as though afraid of what might be down there.

What appeared to be the pack leader bared his yellow teeth in a growl.

He was an enormous, utterly evil looking werewolf. He was not a pretty sight, but werewolves never are a pretty sight if you are a human being.

He turned back to the gang of werewolves and titled his head to one side, as though signalling them to follow him. The pack leader growled moodily, staring at the ground as he walked on using his four legs, tipped with razor-sharp claws. He then smiled, baring his yellow teeth once more whilst scrunching his nose up, as though reminded of something good. Which, of course, could not be good for anyone else, particularly not to the Weasley family.

Outside, the night was deathly quiet. Crickets chirped from unknown territories while the Londoners around them slept. It was 4am in the morning and not a sound was to be heard except for the occasional hoot of an owl, said crickets, and the rustling of the grass as the ghostly wind swept across it.


Two redheaded life forms were screaming inside a huge gutter pipe, the two fell out of it and landed in the River Themes almost as quickly as the noise they brought with them had lasted.

A few seconds later, the Weasley twin Fred emerged from the water. He started forcing his way on to the side of the riverbank, drenched from head to toe in water. It had, thankfully, washed off all the human excretion that had been so inhumanely dropped along with him and his brother. Fred lay on his back on the grass and groaned loudly. "Please, something has to happen to us that's good, anything-!"

George jumped out of the river suddenly, landing on the ground next to him, looking excited. "Fred, guess what!?"

Fred quickly rose; his bitter, sad face immediately turning into a happy one. "What George, what?"

George held up a small, round piece of gold; smiling like a child on Christmas day. "I found my lucky galleon!! Can you believe it!?"

Fred's face fell. "No… I can't sodding believe it!" He plunked his head into the grass, immediately drawing it away once he found out that a dog had used that very spot as a toilet earlier on and it apparently had not dried out yet.

George smiled sadistically at his brother's pain. Then he looked as though he'd just figured out something. "Fred…"

Fred was currently trying to wipe away dog piss from his face using his sleeve of his jumper. "Yes, George?" He muttered moodily.

George took a seat on the grass, pointedly avoiding the dog's toilet. "You know how we've just been chased by a mad Severus Snape and a pack of hungry werewolves. Wandless and ballsless?"

Fred rolled his eyes and chuckled at the latter of his speech. "Yeah, and?"

George smiled, he started giggling uncontrollably. "W-W-W-We c-could've ju-just… disapparated out of all of that mess without having to end up like this!!" He started laughing like a hyena on crack.

Fred looked at his brother like he was insane, of course if he didn't know any better he would think he wasn't. He then looked at the floor as though it was speaking to him. He looked at his reflection in a puddle and smiled, then he started laughing along as well.

"Hahahaha!" Then his face contorted, it was full of mad fury. "Oh NOW you fucking tell me!!"" He yelled at his brother's face.

Poor Fred Weasley had not had a particularly good night.

"Sorry, Fred, I didn't know either until now…" George said, taken aback

"Well then, you're a right plonker, aren't you!?" Fred plonked down on the grass, not seeming to care if he was sitting on canine excretion or not anymore. "We're two peas in a pod, no, brother? Two peas in a freaking pod!"

"Well, technically, yes… Being as we're twins-"

"And we just royally cocked up that whole mission in just a few hours, didn't we?" Fred interrupted, he was now smiling.

"Can't say I don't agree with you there…" George smiled along with him.

"… Want to go to Hogsmede? I can see the sun rising."

"Hell yes!" George cried happily, leaping up from the grass and flexing his wrists.

Fred got up as well, not noticing the brown patch on his bottom that had also, undoubtedly, been created and dropped by a canine creature during a leisurely walk.

And before you know it, the two were gone in a snap. They had apparated to Hogsmede, ready to enjoy themselves, not really seeming to give a shite about all that just happened and how disappointed their parents would be, about who might be about and watching them disapparate, thankfully nobody was indeed there, or that they had yet again left their wands in their unlocked shop.

A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed this. The first fanfiction that I can, indeed, be proud of. Plus, my first one shot.

Please review if you can! Reviews will encourage me to write more. If I do write another fanfic, there's a good chance that it will be a Harry Potter fanfic based on me and a friend's interpretation of The Marauders.

Oh, and no hinkypuffs were harmed during the making of this fanfic. They merely peed themselves. Bless them.