A/N: This is a collaborative effort by the House of Ravenclaw, from the ThirdFloorCorridor. This chapter was written by Mizumi Forrester and betaed by Jewel Leigh and Morwen.
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Two redheads sat huddled together in their usual corner with a few small stacks of books, quills, and parchment. An outsider might believe that the brothers were studying for upcoming exams a bit early. However, any Gryffindors milling about the common room would not even consider that possibility. After all, most of them already knew the favourite activities of the infamous Weasley twins.
Everyone near knew to keep their distance from them. For when Fred and George were talking quietly with their heads close together, they were surely conspiring something—something that was definitely not good. Those Gryffindors who glanced at them could only pray to Merlin for the poor soul – or souls - that they were targeting.
Mark Fowler was a fourth-year Gryffindor. He had been lived at Hogwarts long enough to know that the twins were usually trouble. Still, he wasn't paying close attention that evening, and so didn't notice that he was dangerously close to them until he began to hear snatches of their conversation.
"No, it's less creative that way!"
But you'll have to admit, the idea has a lot of merits."
"We can incorporate that with the other one if you don't use -"
" - The Billywig sting. Great idea, brother, dear!"
"Isn't it? Bloody brilliant that'd be if we could make that effect happen after the colour changes! He'd look like he'd come out of -"
" - An unfortunate potion brewing! Wicked, Forge."
"Of course, Gred. We do have such amazingly well-built heads on our shoulders."
"True, that!"
They grinned with excitement. Mark shuddered at what he had heard. He fervently hoped that he wasn't the target for the twins' latest plot. He was almost out of earshot when the two suddenly turned towards him with identical grins on their identical features.
"Ah, look, Gred!" George said, "It's our good friend, Mark! What a pleasure to see you!" Mark froze before slowly facing them and giving them a half-hearted smile. Bugger. He was caught.
George continued. "We do hope you've recovered from those awful burns you got from the Skiving Snackboxes..."
"And we hope you found our products to be very satisfying." Fred added. "We hope - "
" - To do more business with you in the future!"
Fred leaned back in his chair and rested his hand behind his head. "So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, dear Mark?"
Before Mark could answer, George cut in, giving his twin a nudge in the ribs.
"Oh, Gred, maybe our young friend here is hoping for a sample of our fantastic inventions."
Fred looked sideways at his brother. "And maybe he wants to have the privilege of being the first to acquire our latest product! Isn't that right, Forge?"
"Yes, I imagine that everyone will want to be among the first to experience it."
Mark poised himself to run as George (or at least the one that seemed to be George) launched into his melodramatic act. The closer twin placed his hand on his chest and began to emote with gusto. "But O, the horror!"
"No," Fred added with faked sadness, "I'm afraid you can't be the first."
"Not that we don't like you -" said George.
" – Or want you to enjoy it – "
" - But there's someone else lined up to try it first."
"Don't feel bad, my friend. I'm sure my brother and I can arrange it—"
"—So you can get the second instead."
"That's better than the last, right?"
"So, if you want us to…"
"No, thank you!" Mark quickly ground out. He walked away quickly, before the two could stop him. He had found out that he wasn't the target, and that was all he wanted to know. Whatever they were making up, he didn't want a part in it. Mark knew by then that, unless you were the twins, pranks either humiliated you or gave you detention. If he, Mark Fowler, wasn't involved, he didn't want to be.
No, never. Especially not after seeing the slightly mad gleam in their eyes. Sure, they seemed to possess immunity to expulsion, but that didn't mean that one should encourage them. Most people actually found the twins funny, if they didn't happen to be the target of the day. Mark still remembered his second year very clearly, when his older brother, Kenneth, had come down with boils from something that Fred and George had done to him. Kenneth had made sure to warn his little brother about the Weasley twins, and Mark had taken his advice to heart.
The least he could do, Mark decided, was to stay away from their latest idea. He didn't want to be volunteered for anything, especially if it seemed to involve making someone look like they had just been in a cauldron explosion. After all, Mark had enough problems with Transfiguration without being humiliated in front of the school.
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The next Thursday morning was especially fine.
Apparently all the professors were appreciating the weather, and the students seemed to agree. The Great Hall was almost completely full at about 8:00; even Professors Vector, Trelawney and Snape were there, despite their tendencies to leave early. By this time, most people were already halfway through the meal.
Mark and his friends were enjoying their breakfasts. The lessons for that day had little to no homework, there were no tests, and –most importantly – they didn't have DADA on Thursdays. Just like the rest of their House, the fourth-year Gryffindors hated Delores Umbridge with a passion suited to the fiery nature of their House. Not having her for lessons was almost like a holiday.
Not only that, but the House Elves had made waffles for breakfast. It looked like today would absolutely perfect.
Most of the time, mail did not arrive right in the middle of a meal. Mark had only seen a few letters arrive during breakfast, and they were almost always Howlers. Usually, the Headmaster of Hogwarts had his letters delivered to his office. Certainly, the Headmaster had never received mail in the Great Hall – during a meal.
That was why every occupant in the hall looked up when a tawny-feathered barn owl flew towards Professor Dumbledore carrying a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. The whole Hall went silent, and curious eyes were openly staring at the Headmaster. Even the teachers were watching with their complete attention.
Looking over at the twins, Mark began to wonder if they had anything to do with the unusual mail delivery. They were certainly whispering with the people sitting near them. Looking more closely, Mark could see that the twins were sitting by the other two Weasleys, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. Maybe the whole group was doing something. Mark felt another rush of relief that he wasn't involved in whatever the twins had been doing. If the twins were going to prank the Headmaster and get into trouble, he was doubly certain that he didn't want to be part of it.
Dumbledore either didn't notice or was ignoring all the eyes that were boring into him as he inspected the outside of the package. He seemed rather excited, like a child who had just received a Christmas present.
The next few minutes were agony, as Dumbledore opened the small note that hung from the parcel's string. Mark wanted to stand up and tell him that it was probably a trick, but self-preservation kept him seated.
"What is it?" asked Colin. "You keep looking over at the Weasleys. Didn't you see? Dumbledore just got a parcel!"
"I know!" Jenny Stewart was almost quaking. "He never gets mail! And why did the owl come in during breakfast? All the other mail already came!"
"Thanks, Jenny." Mark turned back to his plate. Why did girls always have to state the obvious? It was as if there was some kind of brain-killing disease carried in fingernail polish…
Jenny wasn't the only one who was anxious for the Headmaster to open the package. Most of the Hufflepuffs were staring pointedly at the Head table also, obviously as impatient as the Gryffindors. The Ravenclaws were looking up with detached interest (how did they manage that?), and even the Slytherins were staring.
The audience did not have to wait much longer. Dumbledore was apparently just as eager to see the contents of the package as everyone else. Still, after reading the note, he ran several charms over the parcel, in case it carried something dangerous. Mark understood this perfectly. He could almost hear his mother's voice chiming in one of her familiar sayings. "When you get mail from someone you don't know, always run a charm over it. Remember your Great-Uncle Jerold, who died from an exploding parcel from his half-brother." Even if you thought you recognized the sender, you were always to check things, because you never knew.
At last, Dumbledore took off the string that held the brown paper to the box. Colin and Jenny were almost vibrating in excitement. When the Headmaster opened the cardboard box, he smiled, seemingly pleased with the contents. Mark blinked in disbelief. Had he worried for nothing?
After the Headmaster pulled out the small can that had been nestled in the box, everyone seemed disappointed.
Sherbet Lemons. A tiny tin of sherbet lemons. Most of the students craned their necks, and Mark could see the Muggle brand name written on the side. Who would send the Headmaster Muggle sweets? Mark was beginning to wonder if it was just from one of Dumbledore's eccentric relatives.
The contents of the package were very anti-climatic. The students (and staff) who had been so curious returned to their food. Jenny made a pouting comment to her friend Teressa about how boring that had been, and Colin restarted their conversation about how great his new broom was.
Mark was relieved. Perhaps Kenneth was right, and he did worry too much. The twins were trouble, and he needed to keep an eye on them. But… perhaps he didn't need to be so paranoid. He attacked his breakfast again with new energy, eager to meet the rest of the day that had begun so perfectly.
The Great Hall had resumed its usual noise level, and everyone had gone back to his business. Everyone was either eating or talking, and Mark relaxed into the state of 'rightness'. There was nothing to fear, he told himself, absolutely nothing to worry about…
Then he looked over at the Weasleys, and saw them nudging their neighbours and pointing at the Headmaster.
Maybe there is. Mark sat frozen in his seat, afraid to look.
Before he had a chance to turn around, there was a shriek from the Head Table.
"Albus!?!" Minerva McGonagall had jumped from her chair in surprise. "What in Merlin's name—" The usually calm Transfiguration Professor was, for once, at a loss for words as she stared at the Headmaster as though he had grown an extra arm.
Growing extra body parts was actually very near to what happened to Dumbledore. Except that there were no new parts, only dramatically changed ones.
Professor Sprout, who had been sitting next to McGonagall, also let out a shriek of surprise. That brought almost everyone's attention back to the Head Table, just in time to see Umbridge jump up, looking horrified.
"Bloody hell!"
Many others let out an expression similar to Colin's. After fully catching sight of the Headmaster, most of the Hall froze in their seats, dropping forks into their laps. The whole room was astonished - even Snape's mouth had dropped open slightly. Mark took a deep breath, then looked up at Dumbledore.
Their respected Headmaster looked…well, rather like a Muggle clown. His long hair was now pink, purple, and blue, and standing straight up. Mark could now see why the twins had been talking about an effect that resembled a Potions accident, because it really did!
His beard was now adorned with the same multi-coloured pattern, and was standing out, pointing at the students who were staring up at him for the second time that day. This time, there was more cause for surprise. When had Hogwarts ever seen a Headmaster with pastel coloured hair? Even more bizarre to Mark, the garish colours matched Dumbledore's starry purple robes with an almost obscene effect.
There was complete silence in the hall for a moment. Then, one of the younger Gryffindor girls began whispering to her friends, and then the rest of the hall broke into tense whispers.
Dumbledore stood up as if he was going to speak. He sent sparks from the tip of his wand, and everyone stopped murmuring to look up once again. The Headmaster opened his mouth, and -
"I think the one who did it,
Is certainly full of wit.
I do greatly thank him
For this marvellous mayhem."
He was rhyming like some sort of riddler! It was horrible...
Then, someone from the Slytherin table let out a snort. Then, a sputter came from the Ravenclaw table. Soon, sniggers and giggles came popping out of everywhere. It wasn't long before the entire Great Hall was filled with peals of laughter.
"Quiet! Do not make fun of the Headmaster!" Umbridge screeched as she tried in vain to stop the students (and most of the teachers) from laughing at the ridiculous spectacle standing in the middle of the Head Table.
Dumbledore turned to the toad-like professor, smiling wryly.
"Professor, my dear,
There's no need to fear.
Please pardon the pun,
But it's all in good fun!"
Teressa snorted loudly into her plate, and Jenny had to thump her on the back to stop her from choking to death on a waffle. After Mark managed to register what the Headmaster had just said, he broke into a grin. This was brilliant! Everyone (with the exception of Umbridge and Snape) seemed to love the prank, so perhaps there was no need to fear for Gryffindor's points after all.
When the first wave of laughter died down, the Headmaster looked back out onto the gasping students, and grinned widely. The tables fell into another bout of laughter when they had seen the last effect of the prank: Dumbledore's teeth were dyed every colour of the rainbow.
Mark saw one of the Gryffindor prefects spit out a stream of pumpkin juice at the sight, and let himself join in the laughter this time. What did you know? The twins could be really funny, even to their target!
The Headmaster wasn't done. He opened his mouth again and all the students stifled their laughter, straining to catch every word.
"Such a good prank,
Whom have I to thank?
A new kind of sweet,
Indeed, a great treat!
May we never forget this,
And never regret this.
The giggles returned, but were quickly shushed when the Headmaster kept speaking.
"I would like to stay,
For a day this way,
Or perhaps a week,
If you can stand the cheek."
Mark looked back at the Weasley twins and grinned. They were laughing harder than anyone else, wiping tears from their eyes and slapping each other on the back. Guilty as hell, thought Mark with a smile. I was right all along.
"Now I've heard lots of laughter,
And it's raising the rafters.
Though now I do appeal,
That we return to our meal.
For you must keep your routine,
On your studies still lean,
And get you to class,
So the exams you can pass."
With that, the students turned to their Housemates and began talking and eating once more. Several of them were re-enacting the ludicrous scene they had just witnessed, and others were still gaping at the colours adorning Dumbledore's face, teeth, and beard.
At the Gryffindor table, Mark Fowler drowned out Jenny's mad giggling in favour of his own thoughts. They aren't really that bad, he mused. They just want to have fun, and I guess they aren't very good sometimes at judging how people will take things. Either that, or it's just Kenneth. Still, he wasn't about to eat anything that they offered him. It wouldn't do to be on their bad side either. On the other hand, if he ever needed an ingenious method of prank, he would make sure to ask them first. Perhaps he would have to visit their joke shop, if they ever opened one…
The fourth-year Gryffindors left the Great Hall together, in plenty of time to reach their first class of the day. Mark joined in the conversation on the way to the classroom, as Colin and Teressa debated whether they would rather have seen Snape, Filch, or Umbridge rhyming in pastel colours.
When Mark went to his dormitory that night, he found a small tin on his bed. It was identical to the one he had seen that morning, with a label proclaiming "Sherbet Lemons".
With a smile of gratitude to the twins, he quickly wrapped up the tin and tucked it into his trunk.
Who knew? Someday it might come in handy...
