Gred, Forge, Meet God!

Authors Note: This is just a bit of random silliness set in the Christmas of Book Five (The Order of the Phoenix.) Arthur Weasley has arrived home, its Christmas Day - and all hell is about to break loose.

Disclaimer: All Characters Belong to J K Rowling. But I think we all knew that. :)

"WAKE UP HARRY!"

"PRESENTS"

Harry blinked, confused, as his mind slowly crawled its way back to the land of the conscious. "Gred? Forge? What the hell..."

The twins decided that since today was a Good Day, Harry was highly unlikely to hex them into giant green geese, or something equally unpleasant - or itchy. On revealing this fantastic revelation, they resumed jumping on poor Harry's bed with vigor, not at all deterred by the fact that their lickle brother Ronniekins was stirring in the neighboring bunk. "WAKE UP, YOU-"

"LAZY SOD, ITS-"

"CHRISTMAS!!"

That got Ron's attention, and it was his delighted crow of "PRESENTS!" that finally got Harry's albeit sleepy attention.

"Its Christmas?!" he mumbled, his still sleep deprived brain screaming for him to just forget about it and go back to sleep. After a full five minutes of opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, Harry decided that enough was enough. To hell with it. I'm going back to sleep. Happy Christmas, Harry. Have another couple of hours peace... Bliss... His head hit the pillow with a thud, and despite the fact that the three youngest Weasley brothers were protesting loudly enough to raised the dead (and their mother,) fell back to sleep.

Fred and George had migrated to the girl's room, but quickly apparated out at their dismayed screeching. Apparently, there are some things that Father Christmas had not got them this year. The ability to watch scantily clad girls having a pillow fight seemed to be one of them. They had also tried invading Bill and Charlie's room, but left to the sound of deafening (and most likely faked) snores.

Even Fred and George weren't stupid - or suicidal - enough to venture into their parents room at 3AM, so that left just one place to try. They looked at each other, determination shining in matching hazel eyes.

"This is it, Gred." Said Fred, his face solemn.

"This is it, Forge." Replied George, his head bowed.

"Good Luck." Fred choked, in a voice of apparently forced calm.

"You too." Responded George, sounding equally distressed.

"On three."

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

Sirius and Remus had been having the most delightful exchange of Christmas gifts, and were basking in the glow of a great celebration of "The Birth of Some Midget Somewhere", as Sirius phrased it, when they were very rudely interrupted. "GRED!" shrieked - sorry, bellowed Sirius, (In A Very Manly Way, Thank You Very Much,) as he yanked the duvet up to his chin.

"FORGE!" roared Remus, yanking the blanket away from the cowering ex-convict, a snarl on his face. The twins stepped back - becoming bloodthirsty monsters was NOT on their Christmas List - and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, Remus old chap," muttered Fred, as the two men hastily Summoned some robes from the floor, and yanked them on.

"We just wanted," continued George,

"To speak to,"

"Sirius." They finished in unison, and looked expectantly at the afore-mentioned man, who was tugging a shirt on over his boxer shorts.

"Well. You've found me." he grumbled menacingly, looking every inch the insane psychopath murderer that he pretended to be, when he wasn't claiming his complete innocence. "Now. What the HELL do you want that couldn't POSSIBLY have waited until we were finished? I mean- Erm." He flushed, bright, tomato red, and Remus took over.

"Until we were awake." The werewolf glowered at them, but it was only halfhearted, and the twins grins grew, if possible, even more evil.

"Well, you see,"

"Remus old bean,"

"It seems little Harry,"

"Is having a little trouble waking up,"

"And we feel it would be unfair,"

"Most unfair, if he were to, say,"

"Miss out on any of the... ah..."

"Celebrations,"

"Just because he's a,"

"Lazy,"

"Prat."

Remus blinked. Once, twice, three times. Then he nodded his head decisively. He opened his mouth, and said, "Ah."

Sirius nodded sagely. "Yep."Ah" is right, Mr. Moony."

Remus nodded and smiled vaguely. "Indeed it is, Mr. Padfoot. Now-"

But before he could get any further, he was interrupted by matching shrieks - sorry, yells, of outrage and shock. "WHAT?!"

"MR MOONY?"

"MR PADFOOT?"

Sirius and Remus looked and each other, and then back at the twins. "Yeees..." answered Sirius suspiciously."What of it?"

The twins gaped.

"You..."

"The..."

"You made..."

"Map..."

It was the to canines turn to look completely amazed. "How?" stammered Remus,

"How d'you know about our Map?!" demanded Sirius.

"YOUR MAP?!" yelled the twins. There was a moment of complete silence, in which Remus tried to figure out a way to prove his complete innocence; the twins looked at each other, having completely forgotten the power of speech, and Sirius… Well, Sirius was plotting the best way to retrieve said map, and Obliviate the annoying ginger pranksters. All thoughts of swinging in on a vine, dungbomb decoys, and bewitched bottles of Butterbeer were soon thrown from his mind, when Fred, in the calmest voice the two men had ever heard, proceeded to announce, "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs." His twin quickly took over, also in a voice that wouldn't stand out at a funeral. "Greatest Pranksters and Purveyours of Mischief that Hogwarts has ever seen." Sirius and Remus looked at each other, and back at the twins. "Yeah," said Sirius, scratching his head.

"Erm, yeah, that might've been us…" said Remus, looking determinedly at the floor.

"We were, well, somewhat…" Sirius shrugged, and floundered about looking for a word that wasn't naughty, idiotic, or-

"Immature." finished Remus. "Back in our youth…" Sirius promptly elbowed him in the stomach.

"Don't say back in our youth, Moony…" the animagus whined pitifully. "It makes me feel so…"

"OLD?" inquired the twins, who seemed to have recovered their matching evil grins. Sirius growled playfully.

"Oi! Watch who you're calling old! We're still firmly in the prime of life you know!"

"Plus," said Remus, helpfully butting in, "You should be nice to us! I'm betting that map taught you everything you know…" Sirius' mock scowl became a true smirk of triumph.

"Yeah!" he crowed. "We're like… You but better!" The twins looked at each other again, before nodding.

"Right."

"Well…"

"In that case…"

Both twins proceeded to fling themselves flat on the ground, and bow repeatedly at the two marauders feet. "WE'RE N OT WORTHY! WE'RE NOT WORTHY!" They cried.

This chant of admiration had seemingly succeeded where the bribe of presents had not. Harry ambled into the room, rubbing his forehead, and glowering so hard that anything he looked at would have burst into flame, had he not been too tired to focus. "SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!" he roared. "IT'S FOUR IN THE BLOODY MORNING! SOME OF US HAVE VISIONS TO RECOVER FROM. GO! TO! SLEEP!" He fell silent, and looked wearily at his Godfather, and honorary uncle. "Oh." His voice sounded suddenly mournful. "I should have known. Don't encourage them, Remus. I thought you were the responsible one…" Shaking his head, he turned to muddle his way back into dreamland. "Night," he called over his shoulder. "Night Padfoot, Night Moony. Sweet drea-" he was violently interrupted by two matching yells of, "HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Said hero turned around, a rather adorable pout firmly in place.

"What now?"

Undeterred by his long-suffering tone, the twins persisted. "You knew?" Harry stared at them blankly.

"About what?"

"THE MAP!"

"MOONY WORMTAIL PADFOOT AND PRONGS!"

"THEY'RE THE MARAUDERS!"

"Oh" said Harry. "Yes, yes I did know. My dad was Prongs. Was that all?" The twins gaped at him, gaped at Sirius, gaped at Remus, stared at the map grasped firmly in Harry's hand, before their brains overloaded and they hit the floor like sacks of dragon feed. Harry blinked feebly, before turning to his father's friends. "Um. Was it something I said?" Remus shrugged helplessly, and Sirius grinned.

"No, Harry. It's just that mere mortals can't bear to stand in the presence of gods!" He flung his arms wide, and posed in what he thought to be a godly pose. Remus looked at Harry. Harry looked at Remus. Green eyes blinked. Amber eyes twitched slightly. Laughter burst out from between pink lips like water out of a punctured water-pipe. Remus was roaring hysterically, howling with the wolf inside him, crying with mirth. Sirius frowned slightly and lowered his arms. "I'd make a very good god!" he protested, looking slightly put out. Then he thought about it, and grinned. "Nah, I'd be rubbish. Sex god maybe… but don't laugh, Moony, it's hurtful!" Moony just shook his head, and pointed past Sirius. Said black haired "god" turned around and looked at Harry. He was doubled over, clutching his stomach, eyes screwed shut, howling with laughter. In that moment, Sirius' heart softened almost painfully. Because Harry really did look the spitting image of James. And just for a moment, Sirius thought, just for a moment it was like having his best friend back.

And it felt like home.