Title: Cunning as a Fox

Summary: "This mission was serious, and had to be handled with careful precision and consideration—one wrong move and their plan would be irrevocably ruined." Fred and George go on a secret mission.

Warnings: No warnings other than some vague mentions of weaponry, violence, and deception.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters involved. No copyright infringement intended.

Challenge: This story was written for the MLIA challenge on the HPFC forum and created by Allya Ride.


Fred carefully pressed his back against the wall, his left hand grasping onto the stairway banister for balance as he slowly crept down the creaking floorboards. His muscles were tense as a result of his exaggerated defense, his wand clutched within his right hand as though preparing for attack, and a devious smirk veiling his features.

The floorboard of the bottom stair groaned loudly, causing him to cringe slightly before jumping forward the rest of the way. He smiled triumphantly and glared at the offending piece of wood for a moment, his gaze igniting with mischief.

Suddenly he heard a loud crash from behind him, causing him to jump slightly and a bout of adrenalin to course through his bloodstream. Already knowing the culprit, Fred turned his glare towards his twin brother who was now bouncing on one foot in front of a teetering end table. George was clutching onto his other foot, staring at the end table in a similar way to how Fred had stared at the noisy floorboard.

"Oy!" Fred hissed, still watching his brother bouncing up and down. "Wanna try that again? I think there may be some people still asleep in Diagon Alley."

George turned slightly and scowled at Fred, his eyes narrowing in condemnation. "Yes, my foot's quite fine, thanks. I appreciate your concern," he whispered harshly, searching his surroundings to make sure no one had been awoken from the sound.

"Would you—"

"—please shut up?"

Fred turned toward the hallway, studying the distance for a moment and calculating the best possible route. This mission was serious, and had to be handled with careful precision and consideration—one wrong move and their plan would be irrevocably ruined. "Yes, that," Fred mumbled, scoping out their vicinity once more.

"No," George whispered from behind him, obviously suppressing a chuckle. "I was telling you to shut up."

Fred held back a chuckle as well, his smirk lifting the corners of his lips as he inched forward, trying to watch out for obstacles and—bombs? Explosive underground mines? Flying Molotov Cocktails? Fred once again bit back the laughter that threatened to overwhelm him.

Suddenly, an idea struck him as he grabbed onto his wand, holding it with both hands and placing his pointer finger on an imaginary trigger. Fred turned his head to the side a little, grinning at his brother as George wielded his own wand as though it was a... what was it called? AK-47 assault rifle?

"Do you remember the song?" George asked, his gaze alight with amusement.

Fred nodded enthusiastically in response, holding his wand up as though preparing to aim and shoot. He remembered the song quite well actually, and since their mission was such an appropriate setting, it seemed even more appropriate to hum the aforementioned tune.

They continued to quietly tread down the hallway, always remaining aware of their surroundings. Searching for explosives and battle mines, traps from the enemy, anything that could set off a resounding alarm and reveal them. They could not be caught; they had to reach their end goal.

They hummed the Mission Impossible theme song in perfect synchronicity, much like everything else they did, and Fred couldn't help but smile wider as he turned the corner. George's back was pressed against his, making sure they didn't get attacked from behind, and Fred knew that they were the perfect team—the dynamic duo, the gruesome twosome, an unstoppable force of mischief and deceit. There was no way they would be caught.

As suddenly as the thought entered his mind, an unknown figure emerged from one of the doors, its form silhouetted from the moonlight that streamed in through the window.

Fred growled softly and turned his wand toward the intruder. "We've been caught—"

"—by a spy from the opposing side—"

"—the enemy—"

"—and are forced to take immediate action."

As they finished their verbal attack, they both turned and pointed their wands at the shrouded figure. The person's shoulders fell as they stepped further into the light, revealing their identity. Harry's expression was veiled by confusion, a small frown pulling the corners of his lips and his eyebrows pulled together.

"Silencio!" Fred and George whispered simultaneously, the spell shooting out from their wands and hitting Harry at the same time.

For several long moments, the three of them stood in the middle of the hallway watching each other. Fred and George wore mirroring smirks of victory and accomplishment as they studied their 'hostage', while Harry simply appeared to be dumbstruck. He blinked and opened his mouth to say something, faltering for a moment when he realized he was unable to.

"We've killed you!" George whispered as he pointed at Harry.

Harry appeared thoughtful, lifting a hand and running it through his disheveled, brunette hair. It was mildly concerning, he thought to himself, but it was Fred and George so the disturbance wasn't all that unusual. He paused yet again, shook his head, and blinked once more before giving up on figuring out what they were doing and turning back to his bedroom.

Fred gave George a brilliant smile before returning to their mission, traveling down the hallway once more as though they hadn't just forcibly silenced their close friend.

Finally, the two of them reached their destination, sharing a glace as they approached the kitchen. Just when they both thought they'd achieved their goal without further incident, Fred slammed into one of the dining room chairs, causing him to fall to the floor with a loud bang! The chair fell with him, as did George, and before either of them were aware of what had happened, they were sprawled out in a mess on the ground.

Fred cursed and rubbed the back of his head, chuckling as George fought and kicked at absolutely nothing.

"Oy! Exploding landmine!" George exclaimed loudly, forgoing their silenced whispers with the knowledge that they had most definitely already failed.

"Prepare for attack!" Fred offered in returned, succumbing to the laughter that had been building ever since the moment they left their bedroom.

Suddenly, light filled their surroundings and all movement ceased as they turned their attention to doorway of the kitchen. The entire Weasley family, plus Harry and Hermione, stood staring at the two of them and the chair that was currently balanced on top of Fred as though he was hiding beneath it.

"We've been ambushed—!" George shouted loudly, ignoring they way everyone, excluding him and Fred, cringed from the harsh sound. It was, after all, three-thirty in the morning.

"—run for cover!"

"—and grab that arms and weaponry!"

"—retreat, retreat!"

"—abort mission!"

"—and grab the Winchester Rifle, George."

They continued to shout in sync as they ran through the kitchen, barreling down the hallway and up the stairs. They ignored the shouts of their family members as they flew into their bedroom and slammed the door, leaning against it and listening to the chaos unfolding downstairs.

"What were they doing?"

"They're twenty-one years old... This is getting ridiculous."

"Uh, mum... Why can't Harry talk?"

"They really, really need to stop with the Muggle cinema..."

Fred chuckled as he locked the door and walked over to his bed, lying down on his back and staring up at the swirl-texture drywall of his ceiling. He smiled easily, residual chuckles erupting from within his ribcage ever now and then as he reconsidered their mission and their abrupt failure.

"Remind me again why we didn't just Accio the cookie jar in the first place?" George asked from where he was sitting on his own bed, smiling and twirling his wand in his fingers.

"Last time," Fred started, "we tried that, and the jar slammed into the wall and woke everyone up... It kind of defeats the purpose."

George chuckled again, shaking his head. "Yeah, because this worked so well."

"And it was more entertaining," Fred continued as though George hadn't said anything at all, once again returning his attention to the ceiling. "We just need to perfect our strategies."

A spark kindled in both of their gazes as they considered their plans for the future, both of their thoughts circulation with similar plots of trickery and deception. Next time, they would simply be more careful and not stumble over any hidden landmines—or chairs—and they would succeed.

Oh, their secret agent missions were far from over.


Author's Note: I just want to start by saying how much I absolutely and utterly adore Fred and George. When I was given this prompt, I knew immediately the characters I would be using, because the idea just seems to fit with them so well. I had so, so much fun writing this and searching all the artillery terms and whatnot. I know there were a few tweaks to the original prompt, but I wanted to give this an edge of originality and make it more realistic. I hope I succeeded, and I certainly hope that everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

My Prompt: "Today I snuck downstairs to steal some of my sister's cookies before my Dad got to them. The only reason I failed? The urge to hum the mission impossible theme was too great. MLIA."

Thanks again to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, and more important, waiting patiently for E&A to be updated. I really do appreciate it.

And finally, please review! I would love to hear some thoughts and opinions. :D