Fred Weasley has many names, most of the courteously given by the people he has annoyed. Prankster, Forge, Gred, Fox, Stupid Lion, one of the Twin Terrors. But one thing he has never been called? A thief. What happens when his own twin decides to frame him for a robbery?
Fred Weasley, was what he believed to be a coinnoisseur of the art of making people laugh. He read people as carefully as one might taste fine wine, considering their reactions slowly, savoring the challenge, finding their weaknesses and using them for good.
A lot of people didn't realize what lengths he and his brother went through, inventing and creating, learning psychology, and all for the purpose of making people happy. They also didn't realize the danger in being able to make people happy- was that they could also make them sad. Or angry. And manipulate them with ease.
Fortunately, the boys disliked the ideas of such malicious practices.
Growing up, in such a big family had been hard. It was harder as twins. So many fights, about food and money and everything under the sun- and despite that, or maybe becasue of that, they learnt to savour the small moments. And then they learnt how to create them. And someday, if everything went well, they would market their ideas, their products, and they would never use them to harm.
And now they'd been given the money. Little Harry Potter, honorary Weasley, baby savior, had given them a BUNCH of bloody galleons with hardly any hesitance. They hadn't believed it. On the night in question, the celebrated non stop with their small group of friends, happy that their dream was finally achievable without going into some stifling ministry job first.
Or that's what Fred had believed. Maybe it would've been better, if he had ended up in some dead end ministry job, rather than this.
He cringed as the court glared down at him, and a gavel banged.
"Let the trial begin"