Growing Up Fred and George
Boredom is easy to handle for Fred and George... even if handling their boredom isn't so easy for everyone else.
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Fred and George Weasley had identical orange hair, identical freckles placed in such away that they too were almost mirror images of eachother. Their blue eyes were identical, their middle height and slightly stocky figures were identical, and, unfortunately for all who crossed their path, their personalities were identical.
"Mum!" they both chorused, hurrying into the kitchen and sliding with their socks along the floor.
Mrs Weasley sighed and looked at the two ten year old boys and asked rather cautiously, "Yes?"
"We're bored."
She didn't look incredibly relieved at this statement, but turned back to her cooking. "Why don't you go play with Ron?"
"He's... sleeping," Fred answered, grinning mischeiviously at his twin.
"Percy?"
"Dead," George replied quickly.
"Ginny?"
"Ran away," the two of them responded with perfect timing.
Their waves of thought are, again, identical.
"Not funny, you two," she scolded. "Go along and find something to do."
"Where's dad?"
"At work, now really, both of you, run along if you want to eat at all tonight."
"Not hungry," they chorused, and ran upstairs to find Ginny sitting on her bed and playing with a doll that really walked and talked.
"Hey Gin."
"Hello," Ginny, who was eight, said cheerfully, watching her doll walk to the side of her bed and sit on the second-hand bedside table.
"Want to play a game?"
"Nope."
"Not even hide and seek?"
"Nope."
"You love hide and seek."
"Nope."
"You don't love hide and seek?"
"Nope."
"Not even a little bit?"
"Nope."
"Teensy bit?"
Ginny hummed a little bit of a tune, paused, "Nope," and continued humming.
"A bit so small that you can only see it if you put your eyes very, very close?"
"Nope."
"Did you hear the one about the hag and the troll who walked into the bar together?"
"Nope."
"Did you know that Percy just fell out of his room and died?"
"Nope." Then her lip trembled and she looked up, eyes wide and watery.
"That thing is creepy," George said, shivering and looking at the doll as he stood up.
"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Like posessed doll who really wants nothing but to strangle you in your sleep creepy."
They hurried from the room before Ginny could start crying fully, not to their shared room but to Percy's who was, of course, not dead. Seeing as there was only a week left until school, Percy had taken it upon himself to pack everything, sort his schoolbooks (which he had gotten the day his list came), fold everything down to his socks and stick everything neatly in a corner.
"Hey, Perce," George said, hopping onto Percy's bed and jumping to see if he could touch the ceiling. "What's-" he was so very close, the prospect of touching the ceiling was one that was very tempting, it would mean that him, and therefor Fred, had grown, "-up?" He jumped again, this time grazing it with his fingers. Fred wasted no time jumping up excitedly and taking a stab at the challenge himself, Percy watching them distastefully.
"You can't do that in your room?"
"Nope."
Percy gave a sigh that would give Mrs Weasley a run for her money.
"Watcha doing?" the twins asked, tiring of their game and perching themselves on the edge of his bed, both dangling and swinging their feet over the edge.
"Packing," was Percy's reply, but as they watched him re-pack everything, they discovered not for the first time how incredibly boring their third eldest brother really was.
"Wanna play a game?"
"No."
"Quidditch?"
"No."
"Study?"
Percy raised his eyebrows but said, "Sure."
The twins roared with laugher, rolling around on his bed while he watched for a few seconds then returned, exasperated, to his re-packing of his underwear.
"Now Percy," Fred said, calming himself and sitting upright again, putting on a serious expression and even slipping on Percy's reading glasses for dramatic effect. "When a boy..."
"Yourself," George put in.
"Doesn't have enough fun..."
"Obviously."
"He starts to become quite boring..."
"Starts too? I think he's past that stage."
"And no one wants to be around him any longer."
"Are you sure thats not the smell?"
Fred sniffed. "Do you use insence?"
"I find it creates a nice atmosphere," Percy said huffily.
"And when a boy..."
"You."
"Intoxicates the minds of those around him..."
"Us."
"With foul scents..."
"Foul."
"Those people affected turn out excellently..."
"Also, us."
"Although slightly scarred."
"Really, Perce, I think we can expect to remember this smell as long as we live, as if it's always hovering under our noses..."
"The wind-"
"-roaring past your ears and-"
"-the grass-"
"-underneath your bare feet-"
"-(actually, maybe not, the drought this year's dried it up a fair bit)-"
"-and the amazing feeling of-"
"-taking intense dives and dodging continued frontal attacks-"
"-when we play-"
"-TAG! You're it!"
"Hey not fair!" Fred called after his brother who bolted out of the room with amazing speed. "I thought there was another line to that! One about gnome poo between your toes? George!"
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AN: Not very long, but it was sortof just based on conversations. I think I'm going to leave this as a oneshot, for now anyways. Review tons, please, I would love to hear what you think and maybe if I get good feedback I'll make it a full story. But just this bit for now.
If I even need to put a disclaimer, maybe I should for once because I never do (what's the point?)...
Disclaimer: I do not own Fred, George, Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley, Percy, Ginny, the burrow, quidditch or Hogwarts. Or anything else you might recognize from JK's books.