***This is an idea I've had in my head for a long time, and with the new movie coming out super soon (which I'm way too excited about), I finally started getting this written down. It'll be in first person for the rest, I promise, but I felt this first portion worked better in third. Of course, all of the brilliance belongs to JK Rowling, not me. Thanks for checking this out, and I hope you enjoy it enough to stick around for chapter two!***

It was a known fact that the middle Weasley children could cause mischief anytime and anywhere as long as their mother was not around. The first time they went to Diagon Alley to accompany their father on a rare shopping trip, they ended up on the border with Knockturn Alley holding a very large, very cranky, very purple owl with no proper explanation as to how they ended up in such a dangerous situation. It was the first sign that either one had any magic in them, unfortunately for the owl and its owner, but while this was normally a cause for celebration, Arthur Weasley really rather wished he'd followed his wife's advice and left his 6 year-old twins at home instead.

Their favorite joke as children, when magic was only a thing the grown-ups did, was to pretend to be each other. This worked for a long time, right up until George lost one of his front teeth but Fred did not. That game was up while they waited for their teeth to fall out together, something they never could quite get in-synch, even when they stole their mother's wand and tried a few makeshift spells to remedy their problem. Those boils made it hard to tell who they were in general, actually.

Then, when Bill, Charlie, and Percy all made their respective treks to Hogwarts, the new game was to rearrange their bedrooms so nothing was quite where it was left. Charlie was not particularly thrown-off by this, since he immediately dumped his belongings on the floor when he came home and hardly knew where anything was, anyway. Bill only ever noticed when his dragon figurine collection, a fantastic set of miniature dragons that all let out the occasional puff of smoke and liked to glare at Fred and George as they were shoved into yet a new hiding spot, went missing. Percy nearly burst into tears the first time he couldn't find his favorite blue shirt, the one he didn't bring to Hogwarts for fear of mussing it up. Molly might have been secretly amused by Bill searching the house for puffs of smoke, but one of her sons crying was not to be tolerated. Room rearranging stopped after that.

Trouble followed these boys, and Molly Weasley knew that sending them to Hogwarts could only result in one of two things. Either they would try one of their silly jokes on the wrong person and have their egos handed to them on a magical platter, or they would find new ways to wreak havoc that would make them even harder to control. Things could have gone either way, really. Luckily, or unluckily for poor Molly's nerves, they got to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters just in time for fate to tip the scales firmly in the second direction, and it came in the form of Melbecka Harper.

Even though they had crossed onto the platform many times before, there was something slightly frightening about doing it because you were actually getting on the train. When it was their turn, carefully placed by Mrs. Weasley to cross after Charlie but before her and Percy so they wouldn't wander off or torment their brightest brother, they shared a slightly nervous look. It was always in the back of their minds that this might be the time they all shared a mass delusion and got the wrong bit of brick, that they would run at it only to bounce off with a nasty headache and a gaggle of muggles staring at them oddly. That fear was increased as they nodded at each other and ran full-speed for the barrier.

And when they were across, they ran full-speed into a pair of girls that were none-too-pleased to have the twins on top of them.

"Get off me or I'll punch you."

George made sure to stand up quickly and, as soon as he was on his feet, he offered a hand down to the girl he had knocked over. Fred, on the other hand, was purposely tangling his legs with the other girl's, apologizing profusely and falsely as he did so. After a few choice words that George was thankful his mother wasn't around for, the girl took George's outstretched hand and used it to hoist herself to her feet. She dusted off her jeans, glared at her now-sideways trunk, and fixed her emerald eyes back on George expectantly. He stared dumbly back as Fred and the girl with dozens of braids in her hair finally managed to get on their feet, but the girl with the ivory skin and the light dotting of freckles across her nose said nothing, only waited. And stared. She was good at it, too, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably as he realized that it had been a painfully long time since she'd blinked.

"Sorry," he mumbled finally, ignoring the ruckus caused by Percy crossing through and crashing into his trunk. His older brother immediately started whining, which made his mother immediately start scolding the back of George's head, which she was positive belonged to Fred.

And the girl continued to wait and stare.

"Ca…can I help you with something?" he asked finally, glancing uneasily to his brother for help. Fred didn't seem to be having the same problem and, in fact, was busy helping right his victim's bag. "Here, let me fix that." Maybe she just had an odd way of asking for help with her trunk.

"Don't touch my things." She didn't snap or snarl at him, merely gave the order like she was telling a small child to put the toy back on the shelf where it belonged. He stopped and turned to his mother for help, but she was busy fussing over Percy's now-mussed hair.

"Well, then, would you stop staring at me? 'S awkward."

"You ran into me."

"You stopped in front of the barrier."

"You knocked me to the ground."

"I helped you back up."

"You overturned my trunk."

"Well, yeah, but I offered to fix that."

She smirked at the lilt of irritation rising in his voice. "You did," she nodded in confirmation. "And I supposed I should take you up on that. I need to get it onto the train, after all."

When Mrs. Weasley called him over for his inspection, which he knew because she asked for Fred and his brother glanced at her so briefly that she couldn't possibly have been looking at the right twin, George knew this trunk was his ticket out. "If I get that onto the train, will you promise never to tell my mum I ran into you?"

She raised her eyebrows and smirked again. "Deal. I'm Melbecka Harper, and that's my neighbor, Angelina Johnson. She's a bit awkward with all this, being half-muggle and all, so if you give her a hard time, I'll have to hurt you."

George had no intention of giving anyone a hard time, of course. Still, he especially planned to steer clear of anyone under Mel's protection. She was easily three inches shorter than him, but she had broad shoulders for a child of only 11, and he knew that, should things get physical, she would easily do a number on him.

"Oi!" George called. Fred turned at his summons, knowing instinctively when his twin needed him. "Help Angelina with her trunk!" George snapped. "I'm Fred. He's George."

Mel and Angie looked at the boys innocent grins and outstretched hands, then at each other, and back at the boys. Finally, Mel reached for George and Angie reached for Fred, shaking in unison.

"George," Mel nodded.

"Nice to meet you, Fred," Angie smiled sweetly.

"No, I'm Fred," George corrected, sharing a look with his brother. These girls were good. This could be fun.

"Liar. Your mum's yelled for Fred and he," Mel pointed correctly to Fred, "keeps looking. We're smarter than that."

"But it's all well and good," Angelina assured them. "You're weird. We like weird."

"We do," Mel agreed. "By the way, purely out of curiosity, do the compartment windows open?"

Fred and George shrugged. The thought had never occurred to them. "Haven't the faintest. Why?" Fred asked.

"I was just wondering. In case, say, a dungbomb went off on the train. Hypothetically."

"What're you planning?" Angie eyed her friend warily, but Mel widened her round eyes and slightly puckered her lips into the most convincing innocent face the twins had seen since Ginny insisted she hadn't told Mrs. Weasley about the strange explosions in their room.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Mel shook her head. "Everything's perfectly fine."

Fred and George smiled at each other. This was going to be fun.

FGFGFGFGFGFGF

I first met the Weasley twins that day, and they quickly became my dear friends. But, and I am not ashamed to admit this, I favored one over the other. Not at first, of course, but as our first year progressed, I noticed the differences between them that no one else saw. No one but Angelina and me. No one but us knew them well enough to see it. Everyone else saw them as one person, two halves of a whole, and those people were right. But the twins were also two unique individuals.

So, I come today to tell you my story. It's the story of a young girl finding her way in a world she didn't feel safe in. Finding her place and getting the justice she never knew she was looking for. It is a story about learning to trust and conquering fear and dancing with fate.

I come to tell you the story of a group of friends that could never be torn apart. We had our fights and disagreements, but we always came back to each other in the end. We found friendship and love together, and used that to keep fighting the good fight.

And, lastly, I come to tell you the story of two brothers. Two unique boys, tied together with a bond that no one will ever understand. So please meet Fred Weasley. Meet George Weasley.

See, I knew them better than anyone else. I can proudly say that I gave one my heart. They saved my life. They've held me while I cried and fought for my honor even when I told them not to. They are the most brilliant people I have ever met, and I am proud to call Fred and George Weasley my friends.