One Last Bit of Fun
Chapter 0.5
The medi-wizard kneeled down to Fred's level. "Hello Fred," she said in that horrible, aggravatingly slow and well enunciated voice so many people used around him, as though he were incapable of proper thought. "How are you feeling this morning? Are your legs bothering you as much today?" Fred started to say 'No, and would you stop that silly voice? You sound like a pansy.' But, of course, he couldn't resist someone who was obviously so gullible. "I'm not Fred. I'm George," he said, just as jovial as he'd been when he'd said the same line to his mother, even as when he'd tricked that poor sod of a reporter after he and George had retired and passed their joke shop on to the rest of the Weasley family. 'It ought to be fun to see them duke it out for the old place,' they'd thought. And it had amused them, for quite some time actually. But that's another story entirely.
The young medi-wizard looked a bit bewildered for a moment, but then looked over to the real George who was sitting in his wheelchair beside the fireplace in the lounge of Flammel Heights (the retirement home), reading an ancient copy of the twenty-fourth Martin Miggs comic book. He wheeled his chair around, putting the book in a pouch on the side of his chair. "Someone looking for me?" he asked, though he'd really been listening all along.
The medi-wizard launched into a small lecture on the many kinds of pills 'Fred' would have to take, and it had been a few minutes before George had the heart to tell her that he wasn't actually Fred, and that they'd been having a laugh. "Just couldn't resist the laugh, Miss," Fred chuckled as she stalked out of the room, quite bewildered.
"Wow, I haven't had a laugh like that in days, Fred," said George.
"So true, old twin, so true; I just hope it's not the last."
Had anyone been looking hard enough, they would have seen the shadow of a light bulb go off above the twins' heads.
"I'm pretty sure you're thinking what I'm thinking," said Fred with a wide grin identical to his counterpart's.
"You mean-bmfdb!" spluttered George. Fred had clamped his hand over his twin's mouth for a second.
"We have no clue who could be listening, so we need to be as quite as...something very quiet. We don't know who could be listening, and we really don't want that nosy nurse to find out, right?"
"So we just need to rely on telepathy, now," George answered.
"Right," said Fred plottingly. "Pure, twin-like telepathy."
NEXT TIME, ON One Last Bit of Fun: "Pass the matches, Fred."
A/N: So, this was going to be a one-shot, but I was just like "There's so much I could do with this!" I'll probably write a bunch of stuff in installments, and when I'm done put it all in one thingy.