Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, or Harry Potter.
Fred and George sat in their flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, contemplating the best course of action. George kept poking his finger through a hole in his bedspread, as well as fiddling with the frayed edges of his cloak. Fred, instead of being quiet like his twin, chattered on and on.
"Well, we could just deny it, although that probably isn't the best plan. We could Obliviate McGonagall, which would obviously be difficult. Umm… What do you think, George?"
George shrugged. "I guess we could… Oh, I don't know. Er…"
Just then, there was a knock on the door. It was really more of a sharp rap, coupled with a piercing ring of the doorbell. "Ugh," muttered Fred as he slid off the bedpost he was perched upon. "Customers can be so pushy." "I know," George grumbled, getting up. "Don't they realize that it's fine to just walk in?"
When Fred and George opened the door, however, they did not see a customer. Instead, a burly man in Ministry robes stood on the doorstep. A badge on his broad chest read, Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Fred and George, despite their daring nature, went slightly pale. They exchanged glances, then George cleared his throat.
"Morning! Would you like to buy some Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" He tried to beam.
"Yes!" Fred agreed. "We've just had a shipment of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder… Perhaps you'd like some? Come right in."
The wizard looked somewhat overwhelmed himself at this point. He did, however, manage to clear his throat and speak.
"You boys are in deep trouble," he said in a deep, gravelly voice. "Blowing up the Whomping Willow is a serious offense. For this reason, the Ministry has come to the verdict that you will be severely punished."
Fred and Geoge exchanged nervous looks, despite their intended appearance of complete collection and exhuberance. Could he mean…
"Not Azkaban," said the man gruffly, as if reading their minds. "But you boys are facing something almost as bad..."
