Double Trouble

Jedi Goat

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Alex and Riley are mine to *ahem* torture as I see fit. :D

Author's Note: We're back! Please don't be confused by the beginning - I cut to the end of the feast, as I'm sure that if you really wanted to read about Moody's arrival and Dumbledore announcing the Tournament, you would read the book. ;)

Title: Trouble Brewing, Part 2
Prompt: 001 - Beginnings
Summary: In which Fred and George taint the innocent minds of the two new home-schooled students. If they only knew what delicious trouble the Weasley twins were plotting... Introduction to "Double Trouble" series of my Fanfic100. OCs.

Trouble Brewing

The Gryffindors headed upstairs, still eagerly discussing the Triwizard Tournament and ways that they might slip past the underage limitations monitored by some ominous "impartial judge". Only Hermione seemed to be less than enthralled by the subject at hand, and instead busied herself pointing out passages and introducing important portraits to the Hunter twins as they ascended the moving staircases. Alex was nodding solemnly, listening to her every word, whereas Riley had started to hang back, his hands in his pockets.

At the moment George went quiet, mulling over the possibility of fooling the judge with an Ageing Potion – it's virtually undetectable, he mused, and we really only need to be a few months older ... It wouldn't be too much trouble to slip the ingredients from Snape, after all... He turned to voice this suggestion to Fred, but his brother was distracted, grinning in Hermione's direction. They were now approaching the Fat Lady's portrait and she was dutifully explaining their password system and curfew with a solemn furrow to her brow.

"But Hermione, the castle's the best at night. You should see it sometime," he objected to her warnings. Hermione flushed and glared at him.

"And you wonder why you lose us so many house points!"

"I'm not wondering," shrugged Fred. "If anything –"

"– we're just always wondering how we can lose ourselves more," chipped in George. "Balderdash." This aside was directed at the Fat Lady, who nodded primly as her portrait swung open; a moment later he led the way into a round chamber lined with plush red chairs. A fire was already roaring in the hearth; the view out the window was of a blackened, starless sky. The year's Prefects were currently there, coaching a tightly knit group of first years. They seem to get smaller every year, don't they? mused George, before tuning back in.

"Welcome home," Fred grinned to the awed looks on the Hunters' faces. "Well, we're up here. C'mon." They bid goodnight to Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the common room and Fred led the way up the winding staircase to the sixth landing. By this point Riley muttered something about hating stairs.

The dormitory was a circular, rather cramped room; burgundy-draped four-poster beds surrounded them, with a window to one side. Their luggage had already been brought upstairs by the house-elves, a trunk lying at the foot of each bed; moreover, two trunks leaned on the floor near the door, both stamped across the top with 'Hunter'.

"This'll be brilliant," Fred said happily, stretching his hands behind his head as he ventured across the chamber. "We always thought there was something missing in our year's dynamics. I mean, there's us, and we can't complain about our own roguish handsomeness, and Lee's cool, but Kenneth Towler's a disappointment. There's usually five in a year, you know, so there's an extra bed and everything –"

Alex and Riley exchanged rapid, alarmed glances that went unnoticed by Fred; Riley cleared his throat and looked at the floor as George said amiably, "Fred, your math sucks. There's six of us here, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Oh, yeah, good point." Fred scratched his head, staring around the room. "Well, suppose we make up one of those Muggle hammock things –"

"With what?" asked Alex sceptically, an eyebrow raised.

"Blankets," said George automatically, grinning. "We know where the extra linen's kept."

"You know what, don't trouble yourselves for me," Riley interceded, stepping toward his trunk. "I can just go and sleep on the couch downstairs or something."

"Of course not!" Fred adopted a highly affronted air. "What sort of hosts would we be then?"

Riley threw up his hands in self-defense. "Guys, I'm dead tired and honestly could care less ... I'd gladly sleep on the floor right now, even."

"Well, simply enough, someone's got to bunk up," said George, hands on hips, turning to his twin. "Reckon we could probably switch off."

"Not sure Lee and Towler would be big on it," Fred said lightly. "Especially after the pyjamas incident."

"Ah, yes, I forgot about that," nodded George. "You up for it then?"

"It depends. D'you snore?"

George grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at Fred's head as he ducked, smirking. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

"Shut it." George turned, hands on hips, to the Hunters. "Anyway, how's that? We'll make room. You can have my bed tonight." He pointed to the bed nearest the window, grinning. Riley hefted his trunk over to the bed indicated, dropping it with an audible thunk.

"We decided then?" Without waiting for a response he tugged out an armful of clothes and marched toward the bathroom.

"Thanks for this," Alex began, turning to them, but Fred waved him off.

"Don't mention it. After all, 's the least we can do for you newbies."

Alex smiled slightly, gratefully, and dragged his trunk toward his new bed, apparently unaware of the significance of the gleeful gleam in the Weasley twins' eyes as they exchanged triumphant glances behind his back.

Dawn light was just breaking through the curtains when George blinked awake, finding himself lying on the floor. For a moment he contemplated the effort necessary to untangle his legs from the mess of blankets still half on his bed. Then, as his muddled brain grew more wakeful, he realized it wasn't even his bed in the first place – his was over beside the window.

With a heavy sigh he kicked a way loose of the covers and sat up, peering up at Fred who had his face buried in the pillow, blissfully unaware that his strewn limbs had pushed his twin from bed. George rolled his eyes and reached over, prodding his shoulder.

"Fred. Fred." His brother shifted, burrowing deeper into the pillow. George narrowed his eyes and poked him harder. "Fred!"

"Whatzzamatter?"

George rolled his eyes. "New kids. Initiation. Remember?"

Fred groaned faintly and rolled over, rubbing a fist over his eyes. Leaving him to muster his senses, George marched halfway across the room to retrieve the necessary supplies from his trunk, momentarily returning with a sloshing bucket of water under one arm and a box of Filibuster's under the other. He blinked; Fred was snoring again.

"Prat," George muttered, turning away. That's it, he swore, mentally including Fred in the list of those to be pranked this morning. It would serve him right for kicking him out of bed. George gingerly set down the water-filled bucket and fireworks on the bedside vanity, now frowning slightly. He was missing something, but what? Cold water, loud noise ...

Ah, right, burning hot coals.

Smirking to himself, he padded on cat's feet across the room, the door creaking as he headed downstairs; with any luck, the house-elves had left some remnant of the common room fire from last night, and he could be back upstairs and in bed before anyone else decided to get suspicious. As he placed his foot on the last step, however, the slightest noise made his well-tuned troublemaker senses go on full alert; slowly, keeping low and inching toward the cover of the nearest couch, George advanced into the common room.

At first, he only saw a person's back standing in the middle of the room; then he caught the flicker of blond hair, and exhaled in relief. It wasn't a professor after all – and what the hell would they be doing in their common room, anyway? George mentally kicked himself for being so paranoid – and he now watched the Hunter boy's motions curiously.

After a moment, he concluded it to be Riley – since he was slighter than his brother, and a nick shorter as well – his unruly hair flopping in his eyes as he flailed at invisible enemies. Punch, punch, punch; a steady rhythm to a melody only the blond could hear, muttering to himself all the while. George stood up from his hiding place, clearing his throat loudly so that Riley jumped and whirled around, his eyes widening.

"W-Weasley? What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I could ask you the same," George said amiably, advancing and sinking into a plush armchair, arms stretched grandly over his head. "What's that you're doing?"

"Er – exercises," Riley said, moving to sit on the couch across from him and idly swiping the back of his hand across his sweaty brow. "You know – well, have you ever heard of Muggle martial arts?"

George shrugged; the term wasn't particularly familiar, but he thought he could guess the purpose, from the movements.

"Well, I was pretty good at karate, back at my Muggle school, I mean," Riley mumbled. "The classes were required, since I was on the fencing team."

George inclined his head, smiling politely, though he was struggling with the mental image of Riley putting up fences, pike by pike. Muggles had competitions for that? He deemed it better not to ask, and instead merely pretended that he knew what he was talking about.

"I dunno, it's kind of comforting, I guess, to do the exercises and let my mind wander. I couldn't sleep anyway." Riley, self-conscious that he was saying too much, stared at his hands. George shifted and cleared his throat.

"So, er, is this your first time at a wizard school?"

"Yeah," Riley said quietly, "we were homeschooled. Our Mum taught us."

"What about your father?"

"We don't talk about him," he said flatly. "I think he's a Muggle businessman or something."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Never mind." Riley shook his head with a hapless grin. "What about you, what's your family like? Ron's your brother, right?"

"One of five, yes." George grinned as Riley's eyes widened and he appeared to have choked on his spit. "Three've already graduated – one's a curse-breaker, one works with dragons, one's with the Ministry – and then there's Fred, who is not quite as awesome as me, and then Ron. I've got a sister, too – Ginny – in third year."

"Bloody hell," said Riley, staring at him, "and I thought it was tough growing up with one brother."

"You've been sheltered, my friend," George beamed. "But Fred and I clearly had the best time of it, we got to team up and bugger the hell out of everyone else. But that reminds me, I was going to ask you – and my apologies, you're probably sick of the question – but you and Alex are fraternal twins, right?"

Riley rubbed his hand along his jaw, grinning weakly. "Is it that obvious?"

George shrugged. "You could say I'm perceptive. Also, though you look similar enough, you're just..."

"Different," Riley finished for him. "Yeah, I know. People mistook us for identical up until we were about eleven ... that's when Alex started his growth spurts," he added quickly, and George had to laugh.

"So you're the short twin, too? I'll let you in on a secret then..." George leaned forward conspiratorially. "You can't notice it unless you're looking closely, but Fred's an inch and a half taller than me. Lousy git somehow took after the rest of the family." He winked in exaggerated fashion and Riley shook his head, half exasperated, half amused.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind so I'll always be able to tell you apart."

"Oi!" George sat back, arms crossed. "We take pride in being identical, you know!"

Riley snorted, also crossing his arms. "Yeah, well, Alex's always prided himself on keeping his hair neater than mine. What a git."

"That's interesting." George rubbed his chin. "Because, you see, even if we're identical, it seems it's always Fred who gets the girls. Must be something he's doing, like that, that I'm not, because I'm obviously the wittier one."

"You're also the most humble," Riley added dryly, causing George to grin widely.

"Oh, no, you've never seen Fred on a good day. Ego, my arse."

"So this is you being humble."

"By comparison, yes." George straightened and flicked imaginary dust off his collar, preening.

Riley rolled his eyes, sinking lower in his armchair with his eyes closed. Over his shoulder, it had started to lighten through the high stained glass window, and a glance at George's watch proved it to be nearing seven o'clock. He'd have to hurry upstairs if he wanted to put their plan into effect, George noted absently, his eyes lingering on Riley who seemed to have dozed off in front of him. Nevertheless, the very fact of his presence rendered half of the prank useless. Ah, well, there's always tomorrow, George told himself, at last standing up and stretching grandly.

Through half-closed lids Riley glanced up at him; George rolled his shoulders experimentally. "I'm thinking about breakfast, how about you?"

Riley perked up at that suggestion, sitting up and openly yawning as he extended his arms over his head. "Sure – it's the same place as last night, right?"

"Yeah." George glanced down at his too-short pyjamas, grimacing, "We'll have to get changed first, though." He chanced a look at Riley, who was dressed in baggy sweats and an overlarge tee, and something occurred to him. "Hey, d'you have your uniform and all?"

Riley hesitated, frowning in thought. "I'm not sure – Alex said something about them bringing us some, or something."

"That's all right." George started upstairs, Riley trailing him curiously; in moments they ducked through the door and crossed the sleepy sixth year dorm, where George stooped over his trunk. He rummaged for a moment before tossing a bundle of clothing in Riley's direction.

"Here. Take this."

"But..." Riley blinked down at the Hogwarts uniform in bemusement.

"S'all right," George waved a hand as he dug for his spare tie, "we're practically the same size, anyway, so you can hold onto it for now. Best not linger too long, else we wake our dear brothers, right?"

"Right," Riley deemed after a moment of reflection, and headed off into the shadows to change. George swapped his pyjamas for his Hogwarts jumper, tie, and robes, and he was just readjusting his collar when Riley returned to his side, fiddling with the loose ends of his – George's – tie. His assumption had been spot-on, George noted; they were nearly the same height, and the jumper was only slightly loose about Riley's shoulders, and he had rolled up the too-long sleeves.

George pressed a finger to his lips and the duo crept silently from the dorm. The door creaked shut softly behind them, leaving the Gryffindor sixth years blissfully none the wiser to their narrow escape from their fate.

The journey down to the Great Hall was without issue, though Riley found himself quickly confounded by all the twisting hallways and George's apparent insistence to duck down every shortcut possible, dragging him by the elbow.

"How the hell d'you keep it all straight?" Riley asked, aghast, as they stumbled out of an unused passage behind a tapestry and Riley brushed cobwebs from his hair, glancing up and down a dark corridor that looked the same as the last.

George only winked secretively and tapped his temple. "Pure genius, that's what."

"Great," Riley muttered, "I'm so dead then."

He was relieved when – finally, a familiar sight – the pair of broad oak doors from last night rose in front of them. From within the Great Hall came a murmur of chatter, and as they entered, the Gryffindor table looked rather less grand with only a straggle of bleary-eyed students seated along its length. Riley's eyes went to the stacks upon stacks of food, his stomach growling appreciatively, as he and George sat down near the end of the table. Meanwhile, George made a show of greeting the group of three girls already seated there.

"Good morrow, fair ladies of Gryffindor," he proclaimed, sweeping into a deep, mocking bow as Riley piled his plate with sausages and eggs. He received nothing more than a wide yawn from the dark-skinned teen for his theatrics, and Riley assumed the girls were well versed in his particular antics.

George, on the other hand, didn't miss a beat as he took a seat, grinning. "Angelina, Alicia, Katie, meet our new partner in crime, Riley. Riley - meet girls."

"Hey," said Riley thickly, swallowing a mouthful as the dark one, Angelina, nodded to him; black-haired Alicia surveyed him curiously; and the brunette, Katie, smiled slightly before becoming very interested in her toast.

For a while George was content to relay most of last night's activity with his usual flair; in between his narration, Riley learned that Angelina and Alicia were his classmates, whereas Katie was in fifth year, and all three were members of the (supposedly famous) Gryffindor Quidditch team. Riley rolled his eyes as he listened to the tale, not exactly surprised that he didn't recall it happening quite as George described, especially the part where they fought and won an all-out duel with the Slytherins on the train. At this point, he wasn't exactly sure what to make of their new acquaintances (Riley wasn't sure he would call Fred and George "friends"), but he thought the girls' temperance of all George said with a grain of salt seemed to be a healthy enough precaution.

In short order, Professor McGonagall swept past their table, handing out slips of parchment. Riley glanced down curiously at the two thrust into his hands.

"Er –"

"Timetables," George said, snatching them up before he could read them. "Oh, good, you two've got the same classes as us. You're taking Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, too?"

"Er, I guess so," Riley said blankly, pulling the parchment back to read for himself, his brow furrowing. "How's today look? Charms, History of Magic, and Defense in the afternoon."

George made an indistinct noise in his throat. "It's not horrible, mind. Depends on Defense – what with our new teacher and all..."

They hung around, chatting, mostly about their different professors and George's "helpful" warnings about Professor Snape, until they were at last joined by Fred, Lee Jordan, and Alex. Around a yawn Alex explained that some spare school uniforms had indeed shown up in the night and were waiting in their trunks. He also tried to teach Riley to properly knot his tie, but after five frustrated minutes both twins gave up, turning away from each other with irritated huffs. "You can be so dense sometimes, really..." Alex muttered.

At last, once they were all stuffed to contentment and idly chattering about their summer adventures, a bell sounded in the distance. Fred stretched as he stood up.

"Time for Charms, then?"

The group headed off for their first day of classes together and the start of a new year. And with Fred and George as their companions, well, Riley figured, grinning along with the Weasley twins' banter, they were in for what was guaranteed to be a wild ride.

The End.

Next time ... Potions class. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

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