Fred Weasley - A kid comes out of the bathroom with toilet paper dangling from his or her waistband. 1/50 for Time Travel Boot Camp.

The shop was clean, save for a few corners Fred was too lazy to go and sweep. It was both a burden and a blessing for him and his brother to have such a gift with magic, because all the things they'd created made it so that he couldn't use any powerful cleaning spells, and had to go around doing it by hand. On the other hand, George, who was counting the money they'd earned, looked positively gleeful, announcing every so often that he couldn't believe they were so successful. Ah, being successful had it's rewards.

"Er, Fred," the sound from the front desk wasn't one of elation, like the past three hundred or so exclamations had been, and Fred turned to see what George was complaining about.

"Yes, brother dear?" Fred asked.

"Do you remember when we were six?"

"Yes,"

"The bathroom incident?"

"I remember," He was used to speaking in partial sentences, and simply raised his eyebrows at his twin. They could communicate easily, and didn't need to waste time finishing redundant statements.

"I didn't believe you,"

"I remember," Fred reiterated, feeling just momentarily confused.

"Well, see," George mumbled something under his breath and pointed toward the door to the bathroom.

Fred followed his twin's gaze, smile growing as he realized what was happening, and watched the child at the door look around the shop.

The younger Fred had some toilet paper dangling from his waistband, and Fred was catapulted back to when he'd experienced the same thing, in place of the six year old. Déjà vu hit him hard, but he had to laugh at his twin's apprehensive look.

"Go on," said Fred. "Send him - me - back."

George looked at him, "What spell was it?"

"You didn't believe me, but I remember that you were the one that sent me back. You should know!" Fred looked beseechingly at his brother, urging with his glare.

Then, as one, they turned back to the bewildered child at the door. "Hello, Forge," said Fred, stalling for time. "How is it that you were sent here?"

The little boy, who hadn't spoken until then, said, "I touched-"

"The tap," finished George, who looked both guilty and amazed. Finally, he seemed to believe the situation. "Bill, of all people, charmed the tap. Bugger,"

"Ahem," Fred said, indignant, given that his younger self was hearing such language. "Do the spell."

"Repulso," muttered George, channeling the feeling of apparition through his magic. Young Fred cocked his head, and with a slight pop, he was gone.

"I told you so," crooned Fred a few seconds later, pointing at George. "You owe me fifteen Galleons," he said.

"What?"

"Remember? We bet, back when we were six, that you'd pay me if this moment came to pass."

"Well, yes-"

"Pay up, then."

"I didn't think I'd actually have to do it," whined George, though he was already digging for his money.

Fred only grinned in satisfaction when the money exchanged hands. "Thank you," he said, pocketing the gold.

Then, as though nothing had happened, he went back to sweeping, in a much happier mood than he'd been minutes before.