Double Trouble

Jedi Goat

Author's Note: This prompt is in no way, shape, or form sexual, I swear. Even though the prompt word makes it look like it is.

Title: Potions for Dummies
Prompt: 038 - Touch
Summary: The Weasley and Hunter twins in the first Potions class of the year. Slytherins don't seem to know when to let things lie.

Early on in their sojourn at Hogwarts, the Hunter twins were introduced to the hell called double Potions. It was early on a Thursday morning; the twins stumbled down the endless winding corridors after Fred's lead, yawning widely. They had long since immersed themselves in the cold, stony depths of the castle dungeons when their identical guides came to a halt.

"Right then..."

"...don't say we didn't warn you." Fred strode into the cold classroom first, tailed by George, Alex, and Riley.

"Hang on," muttered George as they walked along the rows of desks crammed into the room, each topped with a cauldron set on a boiler, "there's not going to be enough seats..."

"Bet Snape did that on purpose," Fred grimaced. "C'mon, let's pair up."

George nodded to Riley and headed to his place at the back of the room. Snape had long since split him and Fred up – currently his twin and Alex sat in the row in front. The duo had just settled onto the bench, Riley rubbing his numbed fingers together, when the doors banged open behind them.

Professor Snape glided into the room like a giant ominous vampire bat, surveying them all over his hooked nose. "Today," he drawled, "you will be working on Cheering Potions, which if you have any memory at all will recall from last year's OWL exams. Also," his gaze seemed to linger in the Weasley twins' direction at this, "you should remember your ... unsatisfactory results. The instructions are on the board. Begin." He swept past them, black cloak billowing in his wake, and Riley had just breathed a sigh of relief when Snape snapped, "Weasleys, surely you remember one person per cauldron."

"There's not enough seats, sir," Fred pointed out quite honestly, but the defiant way he said it made Snape curl his upper lip at him.

"Very well. We'll see if these newcomers can improve on your dismal potion-making skills. Though I highly doubt it."

Riley was beginning to feel sweat drip along his brow. He could quite clearly recall nearly blowing up the house several times while potion-making – he was rather absent-minded and accident-prone.

"I really hope you know what we're doing," he hissed to George, who shrugged.

"We'll see, shall we? Want to get the ingredients, or should I?"

They got to work, with George mainly directing Riley to tasks such as skinning the boomslang skin and measuring out exactly a teaspoon of erumpent essence while he took charge of the actual potion. In front of them, Fred and Alex already had a white mist simmering off their potion; they were poring over the textbook instructions, muttering to one another.

Riley had just begun chopping up slimy frog's liver when a boy approached their worktable. He had a face that reminded him of a rat – thin and rather weedy, with short brown hair. A Slytherin Prefect badge glimmered on the front of his robes.

"I didn't know they let in Mudbloods after first year," he remarked lazily.

"What do you want, Pucey?" George snapped without looking up from their cauldron.

"Just welcoming the newcomers," the Slytherin said with a dark smile. "My Mother's on the board of governors – apparently you couldn't even pay tuition to come here before this year."

"Shit," Riley hissed, as his hands, shaking in anger, slipped on the knife and blood began to well from his index finger. Still brandishing the knife, Riley raised his eyes to the Slytherin. "Shut it."

"That's a load of dung and you know it," George said in a low voice, staring the Slytherin Prefect down. "Now why don't you piss off before we decide to slip more Shrinking Solution in your pumpkin juice?"

Pucey's face paled considerably and he scurried off without another word. Sucking on his bloodied finger, Riley inquired, "Shrinking Solution?"

"Third year," George nodded, reminiscing. "Whole lot of Slytherin were about a foot tall for a day – pity McGonagall caught us. Oi, lemme see that, I've got some bandages around here somewhere."

George rummaged in his pockets – "Ah, here we go." Riley proffered his bleeding hand wordlessly, and George took it up with surprising gentleness in his rough palms, winding a thin strip of white cloth around his finger.

"I'm guessing you two get in a lot of mishaps?" Riley raised an eyebrow.

"You could say that," George acknowledged, smirking. "Hey..." His smile vanished. "About what Pucey said earlier –"

"Yeah, it's true," murmured Riley, very quietly. He ducked his head. "We got our Hogwarts letters when we turned eleven, but... Well, the way things were, Mum couldn't afford to send the two of us. We've saved up our money since to pay tuition."

Surprise widened George's eyes; but then he recovered with his usual smile, quickly knotting the bandages around his hand and letting it fall. "Well, we're glad, at least, that you came. Don't mind the Slytherins, they're bloody gits to everyone."

Riley, blinking at this sudden gesture of friendship, slowly smiled.

"Yeah... Suppose I can always punch 'em again..."

This, of course, initiated more storytelling as they finished off their potion and sat back, discussing the incident on the train. Their Cheering Potion wasn't quite the bright yellow it was supposed to be – instead it looked rather like mustard, which was probably due to the frog liver they used being contaminated with blood. Riley tried to apologize, but George waved him off.

"Let's just nick some of theirs – Alex must be smarter than I've given him credit for, 'cause there's no way Fred could've figured it out on his own."

"I heard that, you prat," Fred said from in front of them as he flicked spare frog guts at his twin.

The End.

Oh look, there's a bit of backstory for you. :)

Coming up next time: pranks and hijinks abound in 018 - Black.

Please review!