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“Who is more attractive?” nineteen-year old Fred Weasley asked his twin brother, George.

“I am, of course,” the latter said, swishing his hair, flashing his teeth and wriggling his eyebrows. Fred scowled, “Seriously?” he said.

George stopped, picked up a pillow on the bed he is sitting on and hurled it towards his brother’s head, “We’re identical, you prat!”

Fred ducked just in time. The pillow, missing him by inches, hit the cabinet �“ where Pigwidgeon had been sleeping, with his head under his wing�” instead, which made the miniature bird rustle his wings and hoot noisily as if he enjoyed the disturbance.

“At least somebody’s happy,” Fred sighed deeply, and then imitated by his twin.

“Pig is hardly a ‘somebody’, Fred,” George pointed out, “If you’re forgetting: he is an owl,”

Fred sighed again.

It was another boring summer afternoon at the Burrow. Fred and George Weasley were sitting on their bed in their former bedroom (former, as they already had their own premises on Diagon Alley) and didn't have anything to do, they’ve already done Gnoming, cleaning, and other stuff they don’t normally do, but they did for the sake of doing something. The twins had visited for their brother’s wedding three days ago, which had been extravagant, but yet uneventful for the twins, “Nothing funny today now, boys, don’t give me a reason to shout at you,” their mother’s voice still rang in their ears, requesting (“Requesting?! More like threatening!” Fred protested. George groaned, “How about the fireworks in the bedroom? You mean I had to carry them all the way here for nothing?”) for a perfect wedding for her eldest son, who was tying the knot with a girl with such breathtaking beauty that everything else around her seemed to light up.

Their mother made them stay for a week, saying that they needed break from their joke shop, as they are working very hard. This statement made the twins happiest on their visit. The fact that “Fred and George had been working hard” just seemed to be great news, as they never work hard, for what they don’t want, of course. But their business hardly seemed like a job, in fact, it is a dream made true by what they call an angel, the so-called Chosen One, Harry Potter.

“What’s the better Quidditch team: Ireland or Bulgaria?” Fred asked, which George answered to, “Ireland, obviously, remember three years ago? But I still appreciate Krum of course; he is the only famous Quidditch player I have ever talked to, or at least been in the same hall in. Or building. Or school.”while saying this, he suddenly felt an unpleasant feeling that Krum might not even know he exists.

“Ah, yes. And that Wronski Feint thing too,” said Fred dreamily.

“Who is prettier: Ginny or Fleur?” George asked, breaking the silence, which had been considerably long for them. Fred looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Err�”” he started to answer when their youngest sibling and only sister, Ginny, came in, her Pygmy Puff, Arnold, on her shoulder and her red hair dancing behind her as she walked towards the twins. She sat beside George, “You better have a good answer to that,” her eyes flashed dangerously.

“Ah, our dear baby Ginevra, of course you are prettier,” Fred answered, with his mock-sweet voice, while smiling and batting his eyelashes, as if talking to a two-year old.

“I am sixteen, not two,” Ginny snapped, which made George snort loudly, “Yeah, you’re all grown up, so how’s darling Harry?” his sister’s cheeks formed a faint shade of red.

“Aww… She’s blushing George! Isn’t that sweet?” Fred laughed at his own joke and soon followed by George, “Where are you going on dates? Madam Puddifoot’s? I see you can’t get enough of those cupids, can you?” they laughed again.

Fred, who was laughing furiously, had not noticed the danger he was in. The next thing he knew, he was feeling dizzy as the pillow Ginny had thrown hit him on the face. “Ow! You are a Chaser, but please don’t make harmless things dangerous. It’s a pillow not a Quaffle.”

George, who was laughing hysterically at his brother, was awarded with a hard smack on his shoulder. “You should try being a Beater, your hands are like bats themselves,” he said, rubbing his left shoulder which was aching terribly.

“Well, that should teach you, things have changed you know, and I don’t want being teased,” Ginny said.

“You should have told us rather than making us learn ‘the hard way’,” Fred scowled, “Why are you up here anyway?”

“Dad’s got something new from the Muggles. That’s something that, I guess, will never change. Dad will be always a freak for Muggle stuff. Mum went ballistic, she says he has already been promoted and his brain still works that way,” Ginny sighed.

“What’s it called?”

“I dunno, something like, uh, Kempeter or something, I forgot. It’s some weird box thing that lights up; there are many boxes actually, of different sizes. Do you want to go downstairs? Check it out for yourselves.”

“Uh, sure, if it is something interesting. Besides, we are only staying here for another three days, might as well give Dad the illusion we are supportive of what he loves,” Fred smirked.

Ginny led the way to the living room, and the twins followed, as they discussed who's better with the girls.

“I am, the girl from the street thinks so,” Fred said.

“She never said such things, you idiot. She likes my Muggle card tricks better than yours, so obviously, I am better than you,” George defended.

“Ah! No! Angelina was my date at the Yule Ball, have you seen how easy that was for me?”

“Yeah, you practically yelled at her. But I �””

“Urgh! Zat is ‘orrible!”

Almost reaching the bottom of the stairways, they were soon interrupted by a voice with a distinct French accent. Ginny turned around with a funny look on her face, “You better get used to it, she’ll be in the family for a long, long, long time, or if they’re lucky, probably until they die,”

“So you love her now, don’t you?” George asked, remembering how much Ginny hated her big brother’s wife.

“No,” she answered shortly, “But that doesn’t mean I hate her. Look at Mum, she’s already accepted her, and that’s what I am trying to do. And you should do the same,” Ginny glared at the twins with her most Mrs. Weasley-ish glare.

“Okay, Mum �” I mean Ginny,” they continued walking, soon, they reached the living room to find their father, Arthur, busy with a couple of black boxes. Their eldest brother, Bill, was eyeing the boxes with great interest, and clinging to him was his beautiful wife, Fleur Delacour (now a Weasley), was eyeing the boxes with deep disgust.

“What do Muggles do with zat?” she asked her father-in-law. Mr. Weasley’s face lit up with the thought that someone was actually interested in the Muggles' so-called Kempeter.

“This is called Computer. Some form of entertainment for Muggles. They use to communicate �“ they don’t use Floo, of course,” Mr. Weasley explained.

This fact seemed to interest Bill even more, “Can they travel in that thing?”

Mr. Weasley pulled his faced, “No,” he said sadly, “but they could send messages!” he added excitedly. “Do you see the letters in this?” he pointed at the thin box with letters, numbers, and arrows in each button, “they use this to ‘type’ their messages."

“So, no owls for them then?” Fred interjected.

Mr. Weasley’s smile grew wider, “No, they don’t use owls; they use, uh, something called Teknuloge.”

“Ginny! Help me here in the kitchen!” Mrs. Weasley’s voice boomed which made them all jump. Mr. Weasley almost dropped the thin box he was holding. Ginny scowled and stomped her way to the kitchen. Fleur followed excitedly, “Ooh! I’ll ‘elp!”

Bill frowned and followed his wife, he left his father and two brothers with the Computer.

“So how does this work, Dad?” Fred asked. Mr. Weasley beamed, and answered, “I’ll just finish assembling these things and I’ll explain."

Mr. Weasley spent a good part of the hour looking at the manual and assembling the Computer, the twins watched the task with interest.

“And this should go,” Mr. Weasley said triumphantly, holding a plug, “here,” he inserted the plug in a socket he managed to install (“so we could experience the wonders on eclectricity, of course!” Mr. Weasley said happily two weeks ago, which was followed by the shouts of his wife about “WASTING TIME”, “TERRIBLE USE OF AUTHORITY!” and “NOT IN MY HOUSE!”). He also managed to install a Fellytone in the house.

The box in the middle �” which their father called the “screen” �”lit up. The twins whistled and stared with awe. Mr. Weasley then explained how the Computer works, and told the twins what each box was for (“You mean this box here can produce sound? What kind of spell is that?” Fred said), how to send and receive messages (“Brilliant! That means we don’t have to borrow Pigwidgeon anymore, Fred!”), and how to “search” the “web”.

“Web? You mean the spiders make?”

“No, son! It is something Muggles use to search stuff they don’t know about! Okay, go on! Try it yourselves, I have to go to work now,” Mr. Weasley said as he walked towards their fireplace, grabbed a fistful of Floo powder and threw it in the fire, “You better behave, boys! I worked hard to get that thing! I want it in one piece when I get home, “he walked into the fireplace and on the emerald fire and said, “The Ministry of Magic!” and vanished.

The twins eyed each other menacingly. After a couple of hours, they have already mastered the use of the Computer and the Web. They’ve sent a couple of messages from their friends who lives in Muggle areas, even Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, thinking this was way better than using an owl. They also tried the “search” their father taught them, and they suddenly found themselves typing stuff like: “Fred, “George”, their other family members’ and friends' names (except Percy, as they still hate him, "Who cares about Percy?"), “Quidditch”, “Best Beaters in the world” (“Hey! We’re included in the list!”) and tons of other stuff, which gave them strange results such as pictures that look a lot like themselves, and the history of the Weasley Family.

“Ooh! Type in: ‘Freak for Muggles’” George suggested at his brother who was in control of “the keyboard”.

Fred looked at him, “What if Mum sees us?”

“She wouldn’t know we’re referring to Dad. Besides, she couldn’t come in here; she’s got Fleur ruining the kitchen for her. Come on!” Sure enough, they heard screams of frustration from the kitchen.

Fred sniggered and typed the words in the search engine, and came across a site called “Mugglenet”.

“Mugglenet?” said George, alarmed.

Fred was alarmed too, “Do you think You-Know-Who uses nets to catch Muggles?”

“That is so cruel! Nets are supposed to be used by Muggle fishermen! We should tell the Order!”

“Wait! That’s Harry!” Fred said, as he pointed at a picture at the top of the screen.

The twins surveyed the page, and then find them most interesting piece was the “Poll” where Muggles vote for certain things about the Hogwarts and the wizarding world.

The next thing they know was they were typing another question to replace the one that’s already been posted.

“What question?” Fred asked.

George’s face screwed up from thinking, “’Who’s your favorite Weasley?’”

“Nah. How about: ‘Who’s the funniest Weasley?’” Fred suggested.

“Yeah, great idea. Now we can battle it out!”

“Should we include Ron, Ginny, Bill, and Charlie?”

“Sure! Type in Mum and Dad too!”

“How about Percy?”

“Great! I’d love to see how badly he‘ll lose!”

Once they’ve finished, they’ve just realized how tired their eyes were from sitting all afternoon staring at the screen of the Computer, and decided to call it a day and check out the Poll Results tomorrow morning.

***

They woke up fresh as daisies at seven in the morning. Fred turned the alarm clock off, which was a surprise since they never wake up at the signal of the alarm clock, but they have things to do and something to look forward to.

The twins rushed to living room, and sat in front of the Computer just like the night before.

“Type in ‘Mugglenet’, quickly!” George said excitedly. Fred type in what his brother had suggested, but kept typing in the wrong letters from his excitement, when he finally managed to arrive on the page, their eyes traveled straight to the Poll Column. Fred clicked away to see the results.

People likes their jokes, they tied. But apparently, Muggles loves the jokes of a certain…

“Ronald Weasley,” they chorused, appalled.

“Wuzzgoinon?” a voice from behind asked them. The twins turned, open-mouthed, only to see their youngest brother standing at the bottom of the stairs in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely. Ron went closer to his brother to take a peek at the screen. His face broke into a big grin, “Wow, I won!”

“You do know what this means, don’t you?”

“You should, Ickle Ronniekins.”

Ron stopped gaping at the screen and looked at the faces of his brothers, both of which are donning expressions of anger. Ron took a step back. “I didn’t do anything!” he defended, looking at his brothers’ narrowed eyes. “Look at Percy!” he gave a weak laugh, “Did you see how bad he lost?” he smiled just as weak.

“You know, I don’t think we care about Percy anymore,” Fred said.

“Do you, little brother?” George said.

Ron dashed back upstairs, “Mum!”