[Cinema Competition: The Nightmare Before Christmas - Write about someone playing a joke; alternatively, write about something scary.]
[Fanfiction Categories Competition: OOC (out of character) - Write about someone acting strangely.]
[The Number of your Pen Name Challenge: Fred/George Weasley/Angelina Johnson]
[Star Light, Star Bright Challenge: Red Giant - write about a Weasley.]
Harry is in the library (with Hermione, who dragged him there to do research after he accidentally let it slip that he hasn't read any of Lockhart's assignments for Defense Against the Dark Arts) when he hears the commotion. It starts with just one raised voice out in the corridor, which he forces himself to ignore in favor of Year With A Yeti, but then the shouting gets louder, and he can hear the grunts of two people beating each other up. He sets down his book and cranes his neck to see out the door, but the angle is wrong and he can't make out what's going on.
Hermione sniffs and turns a page more roughly than necessary. "So inconsiderate," she whispers. "Right outside the library, too!"
"Yeah." Harry tips back in his chair, trying for a glimpse.
"Focus," Hermione says, tapping the book in his hands.
"In a minute." There is a crowd of students gathering outside, and some of them are chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
"Harry," Hermione warns as he puts down Year With A Yeti and starts for the door.
"I'll come back," he says over his shoulder. The group of students is even larger than he thought. All of Gryffindor House must be here, plus half of Slytherin and a handful of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. He ducks under arms and slides between the masses of people until he makes it to a place where he can see, and then he gasps.
Two red-headed boys are rolling around on the floor, punching each other for all they're worth. One of them has a black eye, and the other has blood gushing from his nose, but neither appear to notice their injuries. Their wands lie forgotten on the floor, and they're shouting at each other with absolutely identical voices.
"She's my girlfriend!" yells George, pinning Fred down and landing a blow on his jaw. "I liked her first!"
"Pity you didn't ask her out then, eh, mate?" Fred shouts back, and he kicks George hard in the stomach, which sends him reeling. "Oh, wait, you did, didn't you?" He gets to his feet and wipes at the blood dripping from his nostrils.
"Shut it, you," George bellows as he runs at Fred headfirst. He throws his arms around his twin and brings them both back to the ground.
Fred lets out a great laugh. "What's wrong, Georgie? Can't stand being rejected by three Quidditch players in the same week?" He reaches up to yank George's hair, but George sends a punch at his cheek, and Fred lets go and clasps his face instead. "Don't give up, George!" he says, cackling madly. "I'm sure Wood's available!"
"THIS ISN'T ABOUT WOOD!" George roars, grasping Fred by the ears and slamming his head against the floor. It collides with a sickening crack. "It's about Angelina!"
"Yeah," Fred says, and he shoots out with his fist and nails George in the mouth. "Angelina. My girlfriend."
"Oh, my," squeaks a voice at Harry's side, and he turns to see Hermione standing next to him, wringing her hands and doing a nervous little dance. "What do we do? We have to find a teacher!"
But Harry's pretty sure no teacher will be willing to step in the middle of this. "There's Filch," he says, pointing across the circle. The caretaker is watching the fight play out from the back of the crowd, an odd smile on his face. "Get him to do something."
"Filch isn't a teacher," Hermione says in exasperation, but Harry spots Katie Bell and begins to weave through the crowd to talk to her.
"Katie!" he shouts, waving so she can see him. She waves back. "What the hell happened?"
Katie shrugs. "They're fighting over Angelina, I guess. I didn't see the beginning, I don't know how it started."
"I LOVE HER!" George screams, blood pouring from his split lip.
"SHE DOESN'T LOVE YOU," Fred bellows back.
"And I suppose love is involved," Katie adds. Across the circle, Oliver Wood is trying to shout some sense into his star Beaters, but they don't appear to hear. "The funny thing is, neither of them asked Angelina out."
"What?" Harry can't quite hear her over the cheers from the crowd.
"I said, neither one of them asked Angelina out," Katie yells in his ear. "Ever. They've never asked out anyone on the Quidditch team."
Harry looks up at her in confusion. "Then why are they - "
"Petrificus totalus!"
Fred's body suddenly snaps into a flat, rigid position. George takes advantage of the Body-Bind curse to get in a few more punches, but then he's paralyzed, too, and McGonagall is stepping into their makeshift arena with Hermione at her side.
"There is nothing to see here," she announces. "These boys are going to be strictly punished, and so will anyone who is still standing here in five minutes' time. All of you, you must have somewhere to be. Go."
The crowd disperses slowly. Harry wants to stay behind and find out why they're fighting over a girl they've never actually asked out, but Hermione grabs his hand and drags him back to the library, and within half an hour the details of the strange incident are replaced with the rambling passages from Year With A Yeti.
George holds a dittany-soaked rag to his lip while he relaxes in the Common Room. "Not such a bad punishment, eh, Fred?" he says, turning to his brother.
Fred nods. He has an identical rag held against his eye. "Forbidding us from healing our wounds with magic. It's a creative idea, but not effective at all. Could have been much worse. I was expecting months of detentions. . . ."
The portrait hole opens, and Lee Jordan steps inside. "Did you get it, Lee?" George asks.
Lee nods and pulls a wrinkled piece of blank parchment from his robes. "It was right on Filch's desk," he says, dropping into a chair and setting the parchment on the table. "I nicked it when he left to see the fight, just like we planned." He eyes the twins' injuries. "I can't imagine that was worth it."
"What, staging a fight?" George shrugs. "It wasn't as bad as it looked. We're quite good at throwing false punches."
"These aren't even real bruises," adds Fred, removing his rag to show Lee. "It's all Muggle makeup. Borrowed it from Angelina and put it on beforehand. We've used that method before, it comes in quite handy with pranks like these."
"I just don't understand why," Lee says, leaning forward to tap the parchment. "You went through all this trouble to lure Filch away from his office, and for what? To play a joke on him? To get a blank piece of parchment?"
"It's our blank piece of parchment," George corrects. "He confiscated it from us, and we wanted it back."
"Sure, we nicked it from him in the first place," says Fred, "but we've become quite attached to it over the years."
"But what exactly is so special about this thing?"
Fred and George exchange a look. "Lee," Fred says finally, leaning forward.
"What?"
"Allow me to answer your question with a question of my own."
"Go on, then."
Fred's eyes are gleaming.
"Do you solemnly swear that you are up to no good?"