It was mid-afternoon at the Weasley residence, when a head appeared in their fireplace. Molly, the only one in the room, did not appear surprised, seemingly expecting a visit from this female person. She sat in a chair facing the head, and began to talk to her friend (Melissa was her name). It was ten minutes or so into their conversation that our story begins.

"It was last week… yes, that’s right ‘Lissa, last week during the European Quidditch Cup semis. Ron was in the family room listening to the Cannons face Holyhead… that’s right, the all-female team, the Harpies; when all of a sudden I heard a yell from Ron: ‘Sonorus!’ Yes, Melissa, he used the amplification charm on the radio… underage magic, I know, he got the warning and we weren’t too pleased… but anyway, all anyone in the house could hear for the next minute and a half was ‘Horacio caught the Snitch! Horacio caught the Snitch!' What was that? Oh, how did it happen? Ahh, I’m not sure, I think they scored seventy points in a row to come within one hundred ten, and then Horacio caught the Snitch. But anyway, Ron has never been so thrilled. Even Fred and George are coming home for a vacation (business is booming they say) to see the match."


The middle of the summer brings many things to the Weasley children, but normally playing Quidditch is what gives them a thrill, not watching it. Yes, they were all caught up to date with the matches, even cheered on a team or two, but did not consider it a passion. A slight hobby, perhaps, but not a passion. But one of the nine Weasleys considered it more than a slight hobby, and that was Ron Weasley. A self-proclaimed Chudley Cannons fanatic, he never was able to see them in the race for a championship until this very year, where the Cannons defied all odds by reaching the finals. The eight other Weasleys weren’t all that concerned with this Quidditch Championship— they followed Britain in the Quidditch World Cup of course, but favored no European squad.

During the week preceding the European Cup Finals, none of Ron’s sentences were complete without a Quidditch comment. For example, it was Wednesday night (Fred and George had just gotten home) when Mr. Weasley mentioned a particularly difficult raid (that he was thrilled he dodged due to his new position) at the Ministry of Magic.

"Making illegal car Portkeys, and then actually selling them to dealerships! Honestly, how far teenagers will go to disturb Muggles nowadays," he mentioned over dinner one evening. Normally, this comment would have been made with much vigor, or at least an opinion. He appeared so exhausted though that it seemed that this would be all he’d mention on the subject, until Ginny piped in.

"Where did the cars take the Muggles?" she inquisitively asked her father, a sense of slight humor in her voice.

"That was the worst part, Gin! Straight to the Minister of Magic’s office! Imagine Rufus’s face when a car instantly appeared right in the middle of his office! The first three Muggles got away without Memory charms, ol’ Scrimegeour concocted some cock-a-mamie story about how it was his job to observe the crash test of the vehicle, and sent the Muggles on their way. The fourth Muggle was much more curious though, and a family of five appeared while the Minister was explaining the situation to him. He had no choice but to remove the memory of them all right away, and set up anti-Portkey charms around the entire Ministry with the aid of his most powerful witches and wizards."

At this, all the children at the table broke out laughing. "Oy, Fred! Clever idea, isn’t it! We could create an item for the shop! Portkey Pleasures, perhaps?"

"Genius idea! ‘One bite and you’re sent to a place of your delight!’"

"Boys!"

"Oh c’mon Mum, it could’ve been worse…"

Mr. Weasley went as far as to mention that this person just might deserve Azkaban, or at least a trial. Ron appeared to come out of a trance and quickly chimed in, "Send the person to the slammer, just like they should lock up Kenny Raver. You know, the Keeper for the Montrose Magpies? I think he’s the only thing from stopping the Cannons from putting this game out of Montrose’s reach in the first hour…"

Fred and George muttered something about some experiments they had to do, while Ginny said she was going to work on some summer holidays homework. Mr. Weasley mentioned how long a day at work he had, and that he ought to get some sleep. Mrs. Weasley said she’d join him.

"But, it’s only eight o’clock!" Ron called after them.

"Yes, but your father’s got to get up early Ron…"

"He works the afternoon shift on Thursdays! He leaves at noon! Why sleep now?"

But the only answer Ron received was the slamming of his parents’ bedroom doors.


Each day passed slower than a flobberworm trying to create a home. Anticipation built for Ron with every day, with new analyses and predictions seeming to come out of his mouth every time he opened it. No one had ever looked forward to anything like Ron did to Saturday, except maybe his family looking forward to the match being over. Ginny said that she’d start dating Cormac McLaggen if he wouldn’t shut up, while Fred and George threatened to not watch the game with him at all. "We come home for a little peace and quiet, maybe enjoy a nice Quidditch match, get away from the Kneazle Race, and what do we do? We have to listen to our little brother babble on and on about his stupid little team."

"Honestly, with the love he talks about the Cannons you’d think he was talking about Hermione…"

Ron seemed to overhear the pair’s conversation, as he then walked into the kitchen with his wand held high and it pointed at Fred and George. "Whoa, whoa, little Ronnykins. I wouldn’t do any magic if I were you, you’ve had your warning and we wouldn’t want you to get expelled from Hogwarts…"

"Yeah, you wouldn’t see Hermione!"

That was too much for Ron. He pulled out of his pocket a small cup of clear liquid (Fred and George’s eyes instantly widened) and poured it in his mouth. He swished it around a little bit and then swallowed. "Th-th-th… that’s not Wishing Water is it?"

Ron did no more than nod with a menacing stare in his eye.

"So… you can wish for anything non-fatal to happen to us… oh boy…"

Ron gave a rather evil smile, the irony of the situation could be felt. Wishing Water was a Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes creation, and the two twins began to sweat. Ron then looked at the both of them and asked, " Now, do you want to tell me how to get this to work? Or shall I go get the instructions?"

Fred and George looked at each other, trying to see a way out of this situation, but found they couldn’t. "Would you do the honors, Fred…" George muttered in a very monotonous tone.

"You have to state who you want to harm…"

"How you want to harm them…"

"And do it by rhyming." At this the two boys ducked their heads.

"Rhyme? Are you serious? Why the heck would you put that in the enchantment?"

The twins simply shrugged, while Fred piped up, "We thought it would increase the foreboding sense of the situation."

"And trust me, it does," George added.

Ron went into thought, trying to think of a way to make his sentence rhyme. He appeared to have pulled it off, as he took a deep breath and then uttered the following sentence: "Wonderful water, I wish to harm Fred and George, by making their bodies join and converge." Each time Ron spoke a word the letters of the words flew out of his mouth, and began to swirl around Fred and George. Once Ron had finished his sentence, the words rotated tighter and tighter around the twins, until they were bound together by the letters like rope. Finally, a flash of light emerged from the words around the twins temporarily blinding everyone in the room. When the light had dimmed at last, it seemed nothing had happened, until Ron looked at the one being staring at him from across the room.

Two mouths spoke at the same time: "Idiot boy, Ron." Ron looked at the creature, apparently awestruck at the effect of the spell. For across the room was only one body; two feet, two legs, a stomach, a chest, and two arms. But upon the shoulders of those arms was exactly what Ron had wished for, two heads. Fred and George appeared to be some sort of two-headed behemoth from Greek mythology, or at least the results of a terrible potion explosion.

The two heads began to converse, "At least it’s only for an hour…"

"Yeah, but what if I have to use the loo?"

"And whose body is this anyway, mine or yours?" Ron broke into a laughing fit, and then walked out of the room, pleased with the results of the situation. Fred and George both decided to simply lie down in the living room (heads turned the other way), figuring that if they fell asleep the hour would pass more quickly. They were wrong, though, because with eighteen minutes left in the transformation Ginny walked into the room and instantly fell down laughing. Sensing picture opportunities, she quickly ran to the basement, grabbed her father’s magical camera, and sprinted back. The first flash of light woke up Fred and George, but Ginny found that with them awake there were by far more possible poses.


Thirteen hours, forty-one minutes, and nine seconds remained until the Quidditch match would take place. It was a late, rainy Friday night, Ginny, Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley had all gone to sleep, but Ron was waiting for his father to come home. He had told Ron that he was bringing home a surprise from the Ministry that he thought his son would enjoy (he mentioned the Quidditch match, so Ron’s hopes instantly sky-rocketed). Ron knew he couldn’t sleep (his excuse was the rain kept waking him up, if anyone asked) so he figured he might as well wait for his dad to come home. He was lying on the couch, and although he didn’t know it he was beginning to doze off. He realized that, hopefully, by the time he woke up, the pre-game ceremonies would be taking place.

At last, there was a knock on the door, and Ron instantly awoke and darted to get it. Mr. Weasley, technically following Ministry regulations, held on to the door-knob so Ron couldn’t open it. "It’s Arthur Weasley! Who is this?" It was past midnight, and the rain fell ceaselessly on, but Ron’s father still felt it was worth it to taunt his son.

"Dad, you know it’s Ron so open the f—…" At the start of this expletive, Ron realized he’d better stay on his father’s good side with the surprise he was bringing. "…I mean, it’s Ron. What’s your favorite hobby?"

"Collecting plugs! And what’s your favorite Quidditch team?"

"The Chudley Cannons, now get in here you big git…"

"Wait! There’s a one-in-thirteen chance that you guessed right! Who’s your favorite player?"

Ron instantly gave out a grunt of disgust, but quickly replied, "I don’t have one, each Chudley Cannon is a major part of the team and without one the team falters." With that comment, Ron mustered every ounce of strength he had and yanked the door, his father on the other side smiling (and dripping) with a large box in his hand. Ron’s anger instantly left him as his curiosity peaked, Ron put his arm around his father and lead (if you consider leading someone pushing him) him to the kitchen table.

Ron forcefully opened the box and pulled out what was inside it. His father spoke out, "It’s a fellybision!"

Ron went into deep thought, and then remembered a conversation he had had with Hermione a long time ago. "You mean a television? You mean I can watch the game instead of listen to it! But wait a minute… there won’t be any Muggle cameras at the game… this won’t work."

"Ah, that’s where you are wrong, son. See, I have… erm, enhanced the abilities of this particular tellyvizon, so it won’t need…" he turned over his hand so he could read a word, "cable. You just say the name of the place you want to see what’s happening, and as long as there are no protective spells around the area it will work fine!"

"So it doesn’t need cable? Awesome! That’s great, thanks a ton!"

"Here’s the address of the Quidditch stadium," he pulled out a note-card from his pocket and gave it to Ron, "and if you don’t mind I’ll be going to bed. Good night!"


The hour had come. The pre-game analysis was finishing on the radio while Ron stared at the television with his utmost attention, seeming to think that by watching the captain’s hand-shake he’d be able to gain more knowledge on the game’s outcome. Fred and George walked into the room and struggled to get Ron’s attention. He wouldn’t budge. "Ron, wanna make this more fun?"

Ron didn’t move.

"Hey Ron, how ‘bout we make this more interesting?"

Ron’s eyes remained focused on the screen.

"Ron, Hermione’s here!"

Ron still wouldn’t make a motion.

"Dang it, figured that one would have got him for sure." The two twins walked right in front of the television set and crossed their arms at Ron. Both pulled out a Dungbomb and threatened to drop it.

Ron sighed, "You have my attention."

"We figured that, since we’re not really into this game, that perhaps you’d like to make a couple of, ahh, what’s the word I’m looking for George?"

"Wagers."

"That’s the one! So, how ‘bout it?"

Ron thought about it for a moment, and then saw opportunity flashing in his face. Ron knew far more about this match than either of them, but he tested to peak their interest. "Okay… let’s say, five galleons on the Cannons."

"Oh no, we want this to be much bigger than that. We’ve got five statistical over/under bets that we’d like to make friendly wagers on," Fred announced to him.

"I’m listening."

"We’ll say that if you get one or more right, we’ll give you, oh, ten Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes items of your choice free of charge."

Ron’s eyes lit up at this, he was very partial to their shop. He considered practical joking a good hobby, and getting one right would be nothing he couldn’t do with his the knowledge he had. "And you want from me…"

"Hold on, little bro! If you get all five correct, my extraordinarily generous brother and I are willing to give you one… no, two of every product in our store, free of charge."

Ron began to salivate at this, and simply gave a slight nod to show his understanding.

"We want no money from you if you lose, just a wee-bit of humiliation. All you’ll have to do is wear Hermione’s dress robes for the next week, while she’s here. We have already arranged it with her, and she said if you lose she will donate the dress robes.

Ron jerked back to life at this statement, this was something he definitely did not want to lose. "I dunno guys, you won’t call this off if I win, right?"

"The only way we’ll call it off is if all are ties. Heck, we’ll even forfeit if we fall asleep during the match."

"Yeah, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that happened. As long as you have to forfeit if you fall asleep."

Ron snorted. Fred responded to his brother, "Yeah, like that will happen."

Ron conceded. "Fine. Shoot."

The twins alternated reading out the bets:

"Total points scored. Over/Under: Two hundred."

Ron’s eyes widened. ‘Of course there would be more than two hundred, the Snitch alone is worth one hundred fifty,’ he thought. He calmly answered, "Over."

"Length of game. Over/Under: Thirty minutes."

"Over."

"Combined Keeper saves. Over/Under: Sixty."

Ron began to get suspicious. The game would have to last at least a day for there to be sixty saves. "Under."

"Combined fouls. Over/Under: One hundred."

"Under."

"Total goals scored by Johanson, the Cannon Chaser. Over/Under: Two."

Ron fought hard not to roll his eyes. Johanson lead the league in points scored that year. "Over."

Fred and George smiled. George spoke, "Great! Now that the bets are in we’ll make a magical contract," he waved his wand over a piece of parchment and the entire aforementioned parts of the deal were enclosed. He gave it to Ron, who read it over and signed it, and then the two twins both signed it. He placed it on the table, sat down on the couch, happily closed his eyes and stated, "Superb. Now, let’s enjoy this game."

Ron was on the edge of his seat while he watched the action taking place in the game, with the twins lying back on the couch, relaxing. One hour into the game, and Ron had won three of the five bets. The game had lasted more than an hour, Johanson scored her third goal ten minutes in, and the score stood tied at one hundred thirty, totaling more than two hundred points. Fouls and keeper saves were way under the predicted amount, Kenny Raver was doing a good job stopping the Quaffle, but he still only saved twelve. A time-out was called, and Fred said he was getting a little hungry and walked into the kitchen to grab some snacks for all to eat. He came out with a bowl of chips, as well as three purple drinks for Ron, George, and himself.

"Good game, eh Ron?" George asked Ron, who was staring at the television with such intensity one would think he was casting a spell. Ron made no gestures, and continued staring at the television. He then jerked out of his seat, got on all fours, and slowly crawled toward the game taking place.

"Horacio’s seen the Snitch!" the radio (giving Ron the commentary, he couldn’t take just watching it) announced, "Both seekers are far from it, but they have both started in pursuit!"

"Don’t wet yourself, Ron."

"Why don’t you have a drink, before you keel over." Ron nodded, grabbed his glass and without turning away from the television drank the whole thing. Behind his back, Fred discreetly have his twin a quick pat on the back.

Ron stopped crawling and his eyes began to lose focus. ‘Sleeping Solution! Stupid Fred and George…’ His eyes slowly drooped, until he fell onto the ground. His eyes finally shut as he drifted out of consciousness, leaving the physical world hearing these last words, "Horacio’s been hit by a Bludger! The Magpie seeker charges forward…"


Ron didn’t know how long he slept, but when he woke up he felt himself lying on his bed, dressed in a periwinkle-blue material. Standing at the foot of his bed were Fred, George, and (his heart leapt) Hermione. "’Bout time, Ron. We thought you might have died."

"Blimey, little bro. We figured you’d take a sip or two of the Sleeping Solution, not chug the whole thing…"

"Hermione! What are you doing here?"

"Fred and George said you needed my dress robes, and I do say, you like quite gorgeous in them. The blue offers a good balance for the red hair."

At this, Fred and George couldn’t contain themselves. They both fell to the floor laughing hysterically, banging on the ground with their faces turning blue.

"I didn’t lose the bet! And what happened? Did the Cannons win?"

The twins laughed even more, looked at each other, and then Fred responded, "Win? It was the most dramatic win in all of Quidditch for the last twenty years! Horacio got knocked off his broom but grabbed onto the opposing Seeker’s, then swung himself up and caught the Snitch. He did break his arm…"

"And both legs…"

"But it was absolutely amazing. No Quidditch fan in his right mind missed it."

"And you lost the bet because we said if you fell asleep in the match, that you would be declared the loser regardless of the results. And because you drank a glass of Sleeping Solution…"

"Thirty seconds before the match ended…"

"You are declared the loser!"

Ron’s ears grew redder than his hair at this statement, while he calmly stared at both of the twins. "George…"

"At your service, little bro!"

"Fred…"

"Following all commands Sargent Ronnykins!!"

"I WANT YOUR HEAD!"