Chapter Two
George’s eyes snapped open early the next morning. He immediately glanced over at Fred, who was wide awake and staring at the ceiling. George cleared his throat softly, causing Fred to look over in relief. “Thought you’d never wake up,” he whispered to his twin.
Although neither of them had spoken it aloud, they both shared the same wish for the morning: to try out their new joke products. They both sat up in their beds and quietly started to plan.
Half an hour later, Fred crept slowly down the stairs, a dungbomb in his hand. He knew perfectly well that setting one off in the house invariably caused their mother to make them set up breakfast- in fact; it was what he was aiming for. He hastily threw it into the kitchen and darted back upstairs to his room, dashing in and giving George a thumbs-up. A moment later, angry footsteps pounded up the stairs after him. Their mum stalked into their room and slammed the door behind her.
“How many times do I have to tell you!” she fumed, not bothering to keep her voice down due to the permanent Silencing Charm that had been placed on their doorway years ago. “No dungbombs in this house! I want both of you in the kitchen, now!” She stormed out, oblivious to the identical grins Fred and George shot each other.
“Coming, Mum,” they called down after her as they gathered their supplies and tried to hide them unobtrusively in their robes.
They set out breakfast quickly, slipping in a few products here and there, and making their usual complaints so as not to raise their mother’s suspicions. They didn’t dare touch her plate; they knew the penalties would be bad enough for messing with the rest of the family if they were caught.
Gradually, the rest of the Weasleys trickled into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing their eyes sleepily. They sat and started to eat, Fred and George both looking eagerly at Fred’s watch. “Three…two…one…” they muttered.
All at once, the table burst into chaos. Fred and George looked around smugly, surveying their work: Little Ginny’s flaming red hair had turned a brilliant shade of green, and Ron’s ears and nose were extending by the second. Percy looked around dizzily, seeing stars around his now purple eyes. Charlie’s face was sprouting extra freckles until he was covered in them, and Bill’s hair had grown to three times its usual, short length. Momentarily dazed, the five siblings looked around at each other before all together bursting out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Mrs. Weasley demanded, bustling in to see what had happened, but just at that moment-
“Three…two…one!” and everyone changed back to normal. “Gordon’s Famous Time-Release Face Mutating Pills,” announced George proudly.
“We got them yesterday at Kranker’s,” added Fred.
Mrs. Weasley looked confused. “None of you look…mutated,” she said. “But all the same,” she continued, putting her hands on her hips and getting into her stride, “you should not have tested out your jokes on your brothers and sister! You know what your father and I think about these pranks you pull. Oh, will you ever learn? De-gnoming the garden for you today, and no Quidditch until they are all gone! I don’t want you two sneaking off on your brooms while the gnomes chew up my vegetables. Now go!” She pointed at the kitchen door and Fred and George trudged out.
“Well it was worth it,” muttered George, picking up a gnome and hurling it into the woods.
“Yeah,” agreed Fred, doing the same, “did you see the look on Ron’s face?”
“Poor, poor Ronald,” intoned George solemnly, and they both cracked up again.
Bill was walking towards them from the kitchen now. “Hey,” he called over to them as they straightened up again. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Anything for you, dear William,” said Fred in a high-pitched voice, fluttering his eyelashes.
“How’d you like your new hairdo?” smirked George.
“Well actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about,” said Bill, who had caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “I thought it would look quite nice actually, in a ponytail. How long can those things last?”
“A week at the most,” answered Fred.
“So… what do you say? Can I buy them off you?”
“Sure…” said George.
“For a small service charge,” Fred cut in.
“We’ll give you the lot,” George explained.
“For 6 Galleons, 14 Sickles, and 8 Knuts,” calculated Fred.
“Deal,” Bill replied. “I’ll need them until my hair can grow out by itself.” He walked back to the house as Fred and George finished de-Gnoming and started planning the next day’s pranks. Bill smiled to himself. With those two, it never ended.