Chapter One: Fishpops and Rubber Wands

"Hermione! Bugger off!" I screamed, grabbing the bright orange cloth back from her pale hands. She exhaled an exasperated whimper. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, creating the oh so famous "Hermione Death Glare," that I've seen ten trillion times.

"I am trying to do the wash, since you refuse to, thank you very much!" Hermione spat at me. She quickly snatched the orange fabric from my hands once again, placing it into the laundry basket she was carrying.

"Ugh. Don't you have a book to read?" I asked. I knew that would get her good. She hates when people, especially me, point out that she's... well, a nerd.

"Molly! I hate it when you-!" Hermione was quickly stopped by the shaking of the ceiling fan above us. The glass bulbs began clinking into each other, and the fan started to spin faster and faster. "And you know what! We can't even fight with one another!" she exclaimed, glowering at the fan. It stopped suddenly as she turned back to me.

Every time my sister and I fought, the fan would threaten to fall, or the windows would open and shut, the lawn mower even started up once, but I guess that's what happens when you have twin teenage witches in the house.

"Just don't touch my things." I told her.

"Molly! Why won't you let me wash your Holyhead Harpies shirt? We have to pack tonight, incase you've forgotten..."

"How could I forget? That's all you've been muttering about for days! 'I'm going to see Ron! I'm going to see Ron!' you're so lovesick, it's ridiculous!" I retorted.

Got her again! Hermione hates when I make fun of her little crush on Ron Weasley.

My sister's face turned bright red and she tossed the laundry basket at me. "You do your own wash, then!" she grumbled.

"Aguamenti!" I cheered, pointing my wand at the laundry basket. "All done." I grinned.

Hermione whipped around and gave me her death glare once more. "Molly!" she groaned. "You know you're not supposed to use magic outside of school!"

"Hermione, relax." I told her. "If the ministry asks, I'll tell them it was you."

My sister's jaw dropped to the floor. "You will not!"

"Chill out. I was kidding!"

Hermione grabbed the basket from me and strode off. I knew she was pissed, but I was just having a bit of fun.

After Hermione strode off, I headed towards my bedroom, quietly seeking the satisfaction of my own quiet room. We'd be leaving for the Burrow the next morning and I knew I only had a few more hours of having my own room to myself. That is the one thing I hate about Hogwarts. I can't stand having to share a room with about eight other girls, with no privacy, no silence, just chaos twenty four/seven.

I sat in front of my vanity mirror, playing with my long curly blonde hair. If Hermione walked in at this very second and asked me what I was doing, I would have lied and said that I was putting it up to clean when in all actuality I was trying to find a new look for Fred. If Hermione knew that I'd been crushing on the infamous Weasley twin since first year, she'd never let me live it down.

It was then, while I was fiddling with my hair, that I had noticed how much Hermione and I aren't alike anymore. When we were younger, we were perfecty identical in every way imaginable. We looked alike, acted alike, dressed alike, you name it: we did it together. Ever since Hogwarts started, it changed everything. I started getting prettier and more popular while Hermione started to become more secluded and bookworm-ish. Our mum had told me to take her under my wing and help her out, but Hermione won't have it. She's perfectly happy with her books and well, I'm perfectly happy with my friends.

My sister and I don't even look alike anymore. She inherited my dad's uncontrollable brown frizz, while I inherited my mum's perfect blonde curls. I got the big blue eyes, she got the small brown ones. While the list of our differences got longer, the similarities got smaller. I couldn't place an exact date or time that we changed so much, it just kind of happened. Sometimes I wish she was still my best friend like when we were younger, but due to certain circumstance, that's not going to happen.

"Molly! Time for dinner!" I heard our mum yell from downstairs. I quickly shook my hair down from whatever crazy style I had put it in at the vanity and hopped downstairs.

My parents and Hermione were already sitting at the table when I got down there. They were "Oohing and Ahhing," at some homework assignment that she'd done. I rolled my eyes and took my seat across from my dad like I always did.

Whenever Hermione and I were going back to school, my mum always made meatloaf, mashed potatoes and yams. It was sort of a going away tradition at the Granger home. Why my mother picked meatloaf, I'll never know, but it was quite comforting.

"Do you two have all of your things packed?" my father asked.

"I'm almost done." I replied as I was savoring the tasty yams in my mouth.

"I had everything packed yesterday." little miss perfect announced.

Once again my parents congratulated her on being responsible and punctual.

"Are they coming through the fireplace again?" my mother asked. She hated when the Weasley clan flooed into their spotless living room, spraying soot everywhere.

"No, Mr. Weasley is apparating here tomorrow morning and he's going to apparate back with us." I explained.

"Did you pack your toothbrushes?" my father continued.

"Yes, dad." I sighed. I wish my parents weren't dentists.

The rest of dinner consisted of my father being nervous about tomorrow's travel plans and my mother questioning whether we had all of our dental supplies packed. "Explain splinching again, Hermione?" my father kept asking. He wasn't convinced that apparating was the safest way of Wizard travel.

I grew to hate leaving my parents' home. My mother cries, my father tries to comfort her while she cries, Hermione starts to cry and it just ends up being a huge mess. The four of us stood in the backyard, as my father didn't want Mr. Weasley to apparate inside the house. He was frightened that Mr. Weasley would accidentally land on the vase my father retrieved from Egypt twenty years ago.

I gripped the handle of my trunk tightly as I heard the weeping coming from my sister and my mother. I absolutely hate when they do this. I feel so awkward, just standing there while they cry and hug. My dad and I exchange awkward glances at one another while a faint popping noise is heard.

I have never been so happy to hear someone apparate before.

"Hiya, Molly! Hermione!" Mr Weasley greeted with a happy grin.

I stepped forward to hug the old Wizard as two more pops echoed Mr. Weasley's.

"Fred! George!" I cheered, racing to the twin boys that had just appeared in my backyard. I held my arms out, excitedly to hug my two best friends when George stopped me.

"Not so fast, Molly dear," George cocked his eyebrow at me.

I looked at the two boys, they each had their arms crossed in front of them, staring daggers at me while smiles creeped upon their faces.

"What did I do now?" I rolled my eyes.

"FishPops?" Fred asked. "This great idea you've been brewing over all Summer has been FishPops?"

"Yeah, when you suck on them, you magically turn into a fish for thirty seconds." I explained.

"FishPops? What the Devil is a FishPop?" I heard my dad mutter to my mum.

I turned around to my father. "It's a novelty item, dad, you wouldn't understand it."

"Well, are you two ready to go?" Mr. Weasley asked Hermione and I.

"Bye mum, bye dad." Hermione cooed,

"See you at Christmas." I told them.

"Nice to see you again, Mr and Mrs. Granger!" The Weasley's bid their farewells.

Hermione and I grabbed onto Mr. Weasley while Fred and George took our trunks.

A little tug behind the bellybutton, a blur of color and low and behold, The Burrow.

The Burrow is a truly magical place. The rooms are always filled with laughter and the kitchen always smells of fresh baked apple turnovers. There are always giggling Garden Gnomes peeking out from behind the pink and purple Tulips that Mrs. Weasley plants every Spring. Busted broomsticks litter the yard, basking in the glow of the warm Summer sun. Mr. Weasley's work shed leans to the right a bit, as if it's also trying to be included in the loveliness that is the Weasleys. To most people, this place looks like a dump, but to me, it looks like home.

For the next few days, Fred, George and I had been mulling over new products for their mail order business. Apparently, my FishPop idea wasn't as great as I had originally thought. I hadn't even thought about the hazardous effects if something went wrong with them. I can only imagine a room full of fish kids flopping on the floor without any water. Thankfully, Fred and George thought all of this through for me before any effort had been put into production.

Rubber wands had been my next idea. I got the idea from the Muggle novelty, Rubber Pencils. Mr. Weasley was fascinated at the fact that Muggles laughed at writing utensils made of rubber. He was also all for the idea whereas Fred and George had their doubts. "What sort of pranks can you pull with a Rubber Wand?" they asked me over and over. My answer was always something along the lines of "You can replace their real wand with the rubber one and when they go to class, they'll seem like a complete git."

"What sort of prank is that?" George asked. "MollyPop, we're onto bigger and better pranks!"

"Yeah, we're adults now." Fred sniggered.

"Whatever. Can you not call me MollyPop?" I rolled my eyes.

"Can you help us come up with good ideas?" George said in a cocky manner that made me want to punch him in the gut.

"-Before we're fifty?" Fred continued for his brother. They laughed at each other's jokes while I stared daggers at them.

"Okay, what about... uhh... a bouquet of flowers that turns into licorice?" I came up with the idea off of the top of my head.

"What?" George asked. "That's not a prank."

"No, but think about it... a nice boy, giving his girlfriend a bouquet of beautiful flowers... and then when she touches it, it'll burst into licorice and pepper imps." I replied, receiving blank stares from the boys. "It's romantic!"

"Yeah, let's put that into the 'Maybe' pile." George told me.

This conversation literally went on for hours. We bounced ideas off of each other like they were rubber. The boys wanted to get some new products together by the time school started. Usually the first couple weeks of Hogwarts meant big business for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The Skiving Snackbox, which comes with Puking Pastilles, Fainting Fancies, Fever Fudge and Nosebleed Nougats, which are sweets that make the eater sick, is the most popular product at the beginning of the year. Every kid in Hogwarts wants to be prepared for when they're hit with a pop quiz.

The twins are rather brilliant with all of their ideas. I try and help them think of new things as much as I can, but apparently, I'm not that creative. I mean, come on, I thought turning into a fish would be fun!

The next few days at the Burrow, everyone was buzzing about the arrival of Harry Potter. Mrs. Weasley wouldn't stop cooking and Ginny and Hermione wouldn't stop cleaning. Whenever someone ate something we shouldn't have or messed up a room, we were at the mercy of Mrs. Weasley's wrath. Which is actually more terrible than it sounds. Ron drank some Pumpkin Juice that Mrs. Weasley had just brewed and she went off like a firecracker. I had never heard an elderly woman use so many cuss words in my life!

The morning Harry was to arrive, Mrs. Weasley was rushing about the kitchen making last minute preparations. She decided to make Harry six mince meat pies incase he looks "under fed." Well, we all look under fed to Mrs. Weasley, but Harry especially, wasn't getting enough food. Fred, George and I sat at the kitchen table, eating a late breakfast while their mum was fussing about the kitchen.

"Mum, can I have more toast?" George asked with his mouth already full of toast.

"No, what if Harry's hungry when he arrives?" Mrs. Weasley replied.

"Well, he's got two vats of Pumpkin Juice, six mince pies, four tubs of chocolate pudding and about eight loaves of bread to eat, mum." Fred sneered.

"Oh! That reminds me! I should make him some homemade potato salad..." Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at the sack of potatoes in the broken down, filled to the brim pantry and eight potatoes started to peel themselves.

"I reckon I look underfed." George sniggered. "What do you think, Molly?"

I giggled into my oatmeal but didn't say anything. I heard how angry Mrs. Weasley had gotten at Ron and I did not want to be the brunt of one of her arguments.

"Quidditch this year's going to be rough." Fred changed the subject.

"I know!" I exclaimed. "Hermione decided to wash my Holyhead Harpies shirt and now we're going to have bad luck all season!"

"What did she go and do that for?" George wore a face of annoyance for my sister and I wished that she was there to see it herself.

"Because it was dirty and smelly." I rolled my eyes. "Do we even have a captain yet?"

"Angelina Johnson." Fred grinned.

Oh no. I said to myself. Ugh! I have been secretly battling Angelina Johnson for Fred's attention since I was a first year. Her being Quidditch Captain definately puts her in the lead. I really have a complex over Angelina. Especially since Fred asked her to the Yule Ball last year. Every time I see her, I try and find things that people hate about her and I fail every time. Really, she's gorgeous, a fantastic Quidditch player and she's got the most amazing personality to boot. She's smart, she's funny, she always has the right things to say, she's caring and compassionate. And ugh... it makes me sick.

Most of the time, I'm wondering how I can even compete with that, but then I look at Fred and I remember. He's the most amazing guy I've ever met. He's hilarious, a genius, he always knows the right things to say, he's caring and loving...

And see! They belong together. Ugh!

"What? Why Angelina? How do you know?" I could feel my face flushing red as I spoke.

"She Owled me about two days ago." Fred answered.

"What? Why are you getting Owls from Angelina Johnson?" I actually had to remind myself who I was talking about and where I was before my jealousy completely shot through the roof.

"Wow, MollyPop, take it easy." George sounded confused.

"She just Owled me to tell me that she got the spot of Captain this year." Fred confessed, "Oh and to tell us that we should be practicing."

"I absolutely despise Angelina." I grumbled, crossing my arms.

"What's wrong with her?" Fred asked.

"A bit easy on the eyes, isn't she, brother?" George grinned.

"Ugh, you know, sometimes you boys can be... so... ugh... boys!" I exclaimed, getting up from the table and running upstairs.

"Molly! Harry's about to arrive!" Ginny squealed excitedly when I passed her on the stairs. Her face was absolutely glowing when she said his name. I have to admit, it was quite adorable. On the other hand, I was in no mood to be pestered by Ginny's cute little crush on Harry Potter.

I smiled at her politely and rolled my eyes when I turned my back, continuing my way up to the room that Hermione, Ginny and I shared while we stayed at the Burrow.

I walked in to find Hermione sending Ron's Owl, Pig out the window. It's quite normal to find Hermione sending letters home, but when I opened the door, she immediately flushed red and turned to face me as if she'd just been caught doing something wrong.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked me as I stood frozen in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" I retorted, wondering why she was acting so strange.

"I asked you first." Hermione shot back.

"Whatever." I replied, walking over to the cot that Mrs. Weasley had laid out for me. I completely ignored my weird sister as I began searching my trunk for my Quidditch gear.

"Are you and the boys playing a game?" Hermione's voice was shaky, but I pushed it out of my mind. She was probably doing something dumb, like trying to hide the fact that she'd gotten a 98% on an exam, because people who get 98 percents are failures.
"No, actually. I'm practicing." I replied simply.

"You know, if you studied as much as you prepared for Quidditch, you could have grades like me."

"Ugh, Hermione, will you stop? I didn't come up here to fight with you, I came up here to get my Quidditch things." I frowned.

Downstairs, I heard Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Ginny roaring with excitement.

"Harry must be here." Hermione said. "We should go downstairs."

"Good." I replied, suddenly getting struck with an idea.

"Wipe that stupid grin off of your face." Hermione told me as she walked out the door.

"Wipe that stupid hair off of your head!" I yelled after her.

I didn't even care that Hermione was being her usual stuck up self. I had the most brilliant idea to make me the most brilliant Quidditch player ever. That'll show miss captain Angelina who's really the better woman.

I walked downstairs with a smug expression on my face. I was so excited, my plan was definately going to work.

"Heya Molly!" Harry greeted, pulling me into an embrace.

"Hey Harry! It's so good to see you! Umm... do you mind if I ask you a favor?"