An idea came to me one day. It was a marvelous idea, an idea so big, that it could not be contained inside my head. It could not be contained in my head, nor my purse, my armpit, my…head, again. So thus I decided, well I'll just put it down on paper.

And thus this story was created.

This is a nice Fred and George, kick back and laugh your arse off, kind of fic. So if you haven't the sense of humor, please, you're more then welcome to read my other fics. Lol.

So, let's have some fun.

Disclaimer: The people starring in this story are just here for me to manipulate and have some fun with. Yes, I may put them through pain, odd moments, and other abnormalities, but I do not own them. It is also not my fault if you find yourself on the ground laughing your butt off, or if you find your fellow family unit staring at you like a mad man. Sorry, but not my area of expertise. I'm broke, so don't sue me. Hahaha…

Let the games begin

Chapter one: A Grave Mistake

The day was unusually bright and cheery. The sun bathed the castle with a happy radiance that made even the grumpiest of students twitch a small grin. The butterflies were fluttering, the clouds were grinning, the mer-people were singing, trees were swaying, Grawp was giggling, the centaurs were tap dancing, France is laughing at us now, the Great Hall was imploding…

Wait…the Great Hall was imploding?

The students were screaming in horror as they began to run out of the castle, robes caught on fire. Many tripped and fell, unable to get away from the devastation. Smoke was billowing out of the windows, choking many people and making their eyes water. A beam collapsed crushing little first years under its weight, their bones cracking. The smell of burning flesh diffused through the castle as they all burned alive.

Nah…just kidding!

Fred looked down at his cauldron with an amused smiled on his face. The Great Hall imploding would certainly leave a historical marker on the school.

He sighed. Well, today's prank will have to be good enough for now. He looked over to his partner in crime with a slight grin. George felt Fred's eyes and he looked up from his potion, eyes twinkling devilishly.

Potions was a bore today. They had a whole two hours of examining a lumpy potion that looked a whole lot like Hagrid's rock cake gone bad, mixed with moldy parasite infected potatoes and some type of foreign coconut eating, alien infecting, cannibal shrubbery. Since examining such…art…was neither exciting nor sanitary, they both decided to give the class a bang.

'Ready?' mouthed Fred to his partner, eyes growing excited. George nodded with a grin.

Let the games begin.

George took out a small vile that contained the contents of some liquid that look just as bad as the potion that they were supposed to be examining. George grinned and gave Fred a small 'cheers' before opening the bottle and draining its contents.

There was a crash as George fell to the ground unconscious.

Fred stared at his twin's still body. Hmmmm, that wasn't supposed to happen.

No one seemed to notice George's body sticking out in the middle of the isle like some unconscious mangled…thing…strewn to the floor randomly.

Fred stared at the body for a little and shrugged. He turned back towards the ugly evil potion and wrote down some notes.

"Mr, Weasley," drawled the voice of Snape as he looked over to Fred with his deep black eyes. "Why, dare I ask, is there a body on my perfectly clean floor?"

Fred looked up from his notes innocently; everyone's eyes were on him and on the body of his brother.

He looked around. "…What body?"

Snape stared at him in disbelief. "Look next to you Mr. Weasley. I thought that you had at least a tad bit of intelligence, though I guess I have been proven wrong."

Fred looked over to his brother's body. His eyebrows rose. "Oh…that body? I thought you meant…the other…body." He chuckled to himself.

Snape's brows rose as well as he stared at the red head. "Despite my sudden disturbance at the thought of grimy bodies being hidden in my classroom, I must ask you; why is he on the ground?"

The only conscious Weasley in the room looked down as if contemplating a response.

In fact he was contemplating a response, for the author tends to state the obvious.

Fred held up a finger. "Wait, I need to contemplate a response."

And so Fred contemplated with a contemplatedness that no response could even think about responding without appropriate responding materials. And so responding with a contemplation can only make a response that only contemplators could even contemplate about with a response. So really we're all just contemplating responses aren't we?

"Mr. Weasley," said Snape tartly, his face stony and impatient. "I believe I have given you enough time to contemplate. So would you be so kind as to announce a response?"

"Right." Said Fred, clasping his hands together. "Well, I believe that the reason why my brother's body has indeed collapsed to the ground, is because he obviously has some type of foreign allergy that makes him lose consciousness randomly."

Snape stared. "Really. So tell me Mr. Weasley. You and George are twins. Am I correct?"

Fred blinked. "…Last time I checked, yes."

"And you two are identical twins, am I right?"

Fred looked over to his unconscious brother to observe him. "Well, by the looks of it, I believe that we are indeed identical."

Snape nodded, strumming his fingers on his desk with a dangerous strength. "And identical twins share identical DNA, am I right?"

Fred glanced down at his potion. "Well, I don't know why you're asking me. You're forty years older then me."

The class giggled.

The echoes of laughter were soon silenced when the Potion's Professor stared at Fred with his dangerous glare.

Fred met his glaring dark eyes steadily.

"Well, since you two are indeed identical twins, one would think you would share the same allergies. So why are you not on the ground like your brother?"

Fred shrugged. "Well how am I supposed to know? It shall forever be a mystery."

Snape seemed at a loss. He could think of nothing neither insulting nor snarky to shut the carrot head up. This, the absence of his genius insulting mo jo, was rather disheartening. The thought angered him.

"Mr. Weasley," he said sharply. "Obviously your incapability of a brain has wasted this class precious moments of potion examining. So, to cause this class less waste then has already been inflicted when you first set foot into this room, I would like you to dispose of the body."

Fred blinked. "…Dispose of the body?"

"Yes, please rid of it. It's blocking the isle."

"If you're asking me to murder my brother, I hardly think—."

"Not murder Mr. Weasley. I mean take the body somewhere else." Snape sighed in frustration as he stood up. He walked to the body of current discussion; the class' wide-open eyes following.

Snape looked down at the body as if nearing a rather smelly turnip. In fact, he was nearing a rather smelly turnip, for George had stored one in his pocket.

"That's where my turnip went!" exclaimed a rather short and smug faced Ravenclaw accusingly.

Shut up you.

Silence.

Snape cleared his throat. He crouched down and picked up a small bottle. The bottle that George had drunk out of. Snape held it in front of him questioningly.

"And what is this?"

Fred squinted as if to get a better look, and he nearly snorted when he noticed the other students do so as well. "That to me Sir, looks like a small bottle."

Snape smirked. "And why is it labeled 'Fred and George's Master Plan'?"

Fred snorted innocently. "Well obviously someone is trying to frame me…us."

"Oh really?" said Snape eyeing the bottle mischievously. "Then why does it also say 'made by and only by the brilliant minds of Fred and George'?"

Fred laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Oh does it really?" he asked amazed, rubbing his nose. "How funny. Well, whoever framed us is obviously quite convincing…or an absolutely wondrous actor."

Fred swallowed quietly. Damn Slytherin, he thought. Note: next time, no egologistical labels.

"Putting all egologistical labels aside," the teacher started again. "I am also wondering why this vile contained the Choralworm potion."

Fred blinked and innerly laughed. Eh he he he, no wonder it didn't work…he forgot to…ha ha…pick the right bottle…he he he…

He only shrugged as a reply.

Snape rose one brow, obviously not impressed. "The side affects of this potion Mr. Weasley, are not good. If you had a trace of intelligence I thought you would have known that. Your brother is obviously unstable, and I suggest you take him to the Hospital Wing."

With that Snape turned on his heel and walked briskly back to his desk, as if the whole event hadn't even happened. He then continued his paper work.

Fred stayed at his desk, neither looking at the potion, nor at his brother. He seemed to be in a trance of some sort of deep thought.

After five quite unobservant minutes, Snape noticed that neither Fred nor George had moved. He put down his quill impatiently having enough of this foolish unconscious business.

"Mr. Weasley, since you have failed to do what I asked, both you and your brothers will be having detention with me tonight," he said briskly.

Fred blinked, realizing what he just said. He stared at Snape with wide eyes. "Dude, Snape, what the hell? I didn't do anything!"

Snape's brows rose and there was a chuckle from the class. "Would you like to make that two detentions?"

Fred was about to say something rather rude, but decided against it.

"Now, hurry on," said Snape waving him away. "Before I tie your toenails to the ceiling and beat you with a paddle."

Fred eyed his brother on the ground. "How the heck am I supposed to carry him to the Great Hall."

Snape gave him a look that said 'you're absolutely stupid'. "This is a school of magic Mr. Weasley. By sixth year I thought you would have realized that."

Fred sighed and got out his wand. He glared at Snape giving him an 'I'm not through with you yet' look before taking his brother's arms and dragging him to the Great Hall

OOO

Fred sighed as he dragged the body of his brother down the hallway by the arms. From a distance you could have sworn he looked like a maniac killer, dragging his prey to the closet. Which really isn't a humane thing at all, but considering whom this maniac killer is, he doesn't really need an excuse now does he?

Fred sighed as he dragged the body around a corner, accidentally hitting the body against the wall. Whoops, he thought as he shuffled his feet quickly.

Why am I even doing this? He thought exasperated, grabbing the arms tighter. Why, if I weren't so friendly, I would just drop the body here. It's his fault the plan didn't work; he was the one who grabbed the wrong potion. And now we're stuck doing only God knows what for detention.

He began to drag the body up the stairs like it was some demented log instead of his other half.

Almost there, he thought relieved. My God, George owes me for risking and suffering over my skin and bones just to drag his body.

Fred dropped the body at the top of the stairs with wide eyes. What the hell am I dragging the friggin body for! I'm a God damn wizard! I don't have to put up with this! I'm not some unholy bad ass of a muggle! I know how to levitate things!

But then Fred grinned an evil grin that made Voldemort look like a heavenly grown turnip. Why let him not suffer when I had to use my witty genius to get out of the classroom? I should let him suffer, it's only fair, the flipping unconscious twin.

He picked up the arms again and dragged him to the Hospital Wing.

OOO

"What the heck are you dragging the body for!" shrieked the voice of Madam Pomfrey as she bustled over to them, arms flailing wildly. "You're a wizard for heaven's sake, use your brain!"

Fred dropped the arms of his brother, leaving him flopped on the ground. He stretched out his wrists and sat down in a chair exhausted. The chastising words of Madam Pomfrey went in one in and out the other.

"You've stooped down to the status of a homeless muggle, what, dragging your load about like it's some flea infested banana peel covered in syrup and some type of unclassified mold!"

Flea infested, eh? Thought Fred to himself, leaning back in his chair, looking at him brother's hair. Hmmmmm…

"…I don't even know what you were thinking! He's your brother for goodness sake! You don't just drag him up the friggin stairs. Heck, how did you even manage to do that! Why, if I weren't so forgiving, you would be hauling your bum to McGonagal's office, watching as points to your house tick away like the brain cells of your brother! I should do that! This is inexcusable Mr. Weasley! Just the smell of—."

"Listen Lady," said Fred with a blink. "I'm real tired. I've been dragging bloody bodies around and now I'm stuck with detention. Can you just drop it?"

"Drop it! DROP IT! Don't tell me to drop it! You just threw the body up the stairs like he's some floppy piece of rejected steak!"

"Kay, now you're just exaggerating," pointed out Fred. "And he really isn't all that muscular…"

"What the hell does muscle have to with it!" she demanded exasperated.

"Well meat is muscle isn't it?" informed Fred. "So you called him a floppy steak. He really isn't all that muscular, he can barely lift up him book bag."

"Well be must have some strength at least," she replied. "He's on the Quidditch team."

"True that," he agreed. "But that's only for publicity. He truthfully sucks. But what's more appealing, two good looking twins holding bats or me working together with some fag?"

"I'm rather fond of the first one…"

"Well who isn't Madam? Everyone loves us. Hell, half the Slytherin House is cheering for us the whole time."

"Well no wonder I see half the house wearing red and gold scarves. The staff was quite perplexed about this."

"I must admit it is quite odd," said Fred stroking his chin. "But I mean, I don't blame them. Especially the ladies."

"Heck, soon enough they'll start chanting your name, making Fred and George shirts, and writing fanfictions about you."

Fred laughed. "How funny would that be? Wait…what's a fanfiction?"

"I'm not sure…"

Fred shrugged as he looked over at his brother. "Well it looks like George is going to be out of it for a while. How about a cup of tea and a few biscuits, eh?"

"Eh…," agreed Madam Pomfrey with a grin and a nod. "A cup of tea sounds good about now."

"Do you have chai?" asked Fred intently.

"Chai? Oh yes of course, can't get through the day without it!" she stood up and brushed herself off. She then made her way to the office, stepping over the obstacle that was the unconscious body of his twin on the way.

And so, Madam Pomfrey and Fred indulged themselves in conversations about anything from confused Slytherins to whatever the heck this so called fanfiction was (which they came to a conclusions that it was a secret society that worships the art of underwater ironing), while the body laid upon the floor, spread out like some exhausted marathon runner.

There was a crash of a door opening and both Fred and Madam Pomfrey looked up in alarm.

"Madam Pomfrey!" exclaimed a loud voice as Dumbledore walked quickly into the room, stepping over the body elegantly and walking up to them. "Neville got into the glue again."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Again? How the hell did he manage to do that? It's the third time this month!"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I'm a headmaster not a miracle worker. I know nothing about glue." Dumbledore sniffed curiously. "Is that chai?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded, holding the cup in her hand gingerly. "Yes it is. Would you care for some?"

"Pfffttt…hell yes! Why'd you even ask?" He transfigured a seat next to them as Madam Pomfrey poured him a cup and gave it to them.

"Soooo…," started Fred. "How was your day Ol' Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore took a sip of chai and shrugged. "Pretty good so far, I got another shipment of Every Flavor Beans in. You know I can't help myself. The ministry is threatening me again, and Faux blew up…again, and I haven't showered in a week. Again."

"That's wonderful news!" said Madam Pomfrey taking a biscuit from the platter in front of them. "I love those jelly beans. But I remember one time I tried that rotten egg flavor. Absolutely dreadful, and the taste stays in your mouth so there's nothing you can do but commit suicide or deal with the taste all day."

Fred nodded sympathetically, knowing exactly what she meant.

"Say Fred, why is your brother on the ground?" asked Dumbledore looking over at the body.

"Oh, well…he got poisoned by a Hippogriff," said Fred staring at the body. "Not much of a surprise of course. I mean, it could happen to anyone."

"True," nodded Dumbledore. "My Great Aunt Tesse, who I always got confused with Albert Einstein, was once attacked by a moose. She got bitten badly, lost a chunk of her nose. We were afraid she'd loose the rest of her face but Mungo's saved her just in time. Very fortunate that one."

"Indeed," said Madam Pomfrey. "Those types of freak accidents can really get you for life, eh? But speaking of St. Mungo's, you think Neville is there by now?"

Dumbledore put down his cup. "Oh acidpops, I forgot to turn off the air conditioning in my office." He sighed tiredly. "That's another electric bill over the top for me."

"For a second I thought you were going to say you forgot about Neville," said Fred.

"Oh…that too," said Dumbledore clasping his hands together. "And as much as I enjoy the many elements of chai and conversations of moose bites and candy I better get to Mungo's before I get sued…like last time."

With that, Dumbledore winked at the two of them and tipped his hat as he disappeared in a mystical whoosh of pink glitter.

"Wait a second," said Fred slowly and suspiciously. "Dumbledore doesn't disappear in whooshes of glitter."

Oh get off it, this is my fanfiction and I'll do what I want to. And if you have even the slightest urge to retort I will pull your insides out of your belly button and string you to the owlery.

Fred grew pale.

Madam Pomfrey stood up. "Right. Well, I'm going on a hot date, so I better get ready," she said with a wink. She stepped over George's body and exited the Hospital Wing.

OOO

The smell of old people drenched in antibiotics and chai was the first thing that registered in his head as he sat up groggily.

The second was a sting on his cheek as Fred slapped him.

"What the hell was that for!" demanded George, touching his hand to his cheek protectively.

"For being an idiot of course," said Fred standing over him. "Thanks to you we have detention."

"Well what else is new!" said George gaining his balance. He stood up slowly with shaky legs.

"Good point," agreed Fred, but he snapped his attention back to the problem. "The prank was a disaster! Fainting during class? NOT FUNNY!"

George glared at his twin as he hobbled over to a bed and laid down. Fred followed him to the side of it. "Well, as if you can think of anything better!" snapped George, slipping under the covers and snuggling in.

Fred gasped. "Oh really? You think you're all snarky, eh? What with your bad ass fainting spell. I'm the one that thinks of all the pranks."

"Oh bull shit Fred!" said George loudly. "Without me none of your ideas would have worked! I'm the one with the realistic logic!"

Fred glared. "Right, well maybe I should start calling you Percy from now on!"

George gasped. "You. Take. That. Back."

Fred grinned. "Never. Not until you admit that I'm the true genius behind the masterwork."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" argued George. "Think you're all high and mighty, eh? You're bloody delirious!"

"Hell, I'm not the one who just woke up!" retorted Fred.

"You know what? I can't take it anymore!" George said throwing his arms up in the air. "You want to know who the better prankster is? Then let's have a prank war. Whoever surrenders to the other's genius looses."

Fred glared, crossing his arms across his chest. "Deal," he said hardly. "The war begins tomorrow."

George smirked at his twin. "Prepare to live your last, Fred."

Fred's eyes blazed. "We'll see who's living their last tomorrow, George." He turned around quickly with a glare and began to walk out of the Hospital Wing.

Fred turned around right before the door and looked back at his brother. "Oh yeah, and our detention is with Snape tomorrow morning." With that he left the Wing.

"Bloody magnificent," said George leaning his head back on his pillow.

From where they were standing/laying, both of them snorted.

Bwa ha ha…and so the prank war begins.

(Evil grin that makes you all wonder if I'm sane or not)