Disclaimer: See chapter one

A/N: So, it's been a while, readers…but I have had real life to contend with; uni and exams, passing said exams and then celebrating with a full time and soul-sucking summer job…but anyway, in honour of Pottermore (Have YOU found the magic quill?) here's the latest endeavours of those terrible twins. This chapter is for my wonderful and beautiful friend Laura – have an absurdly happy 19th. Most of these suggestions are from BeatnikFreak, one or two are from tkdprincess96. Thank you very much, guys!

263. Putting fake spiders around Ron's bed isn't funny. Especially when he tries to jump out of the window.

Just a little further…he was almost at the door… Harry reached out and almost grasped the handle…he was going to see what lay ahead, what Voldemort wanted…

'Arrghhh!'

Harry jolted up in bed. 'Ron?' He cried wildly, swiping at the curtains that surrounded him.

'Harry?' he heard Neville call sleepily from the next bed.

Harry found the gap in his curtains and pulled them wide. 'Ron!' he cried out; a reflex. Ron was scrambling up onto the windowsill.

'Gerremoffme!' He screeched. 'They're – they're everywhere!' he said, scrabbling at the latch on the window.

'Ron, no!' Dean yelled, leaping out of his own bed.

'Spiders!' Seamus said, dashing across the room to aid Dean; grabbing Ron by the middle. 'They're all over his pyjamas!'

'Spiders?' Neville said, looking apprehensive.

Harry nimbly made his way to Ron's bed; sure enough, there were spiders crawling all over the bedsheets, swinging from the drapes and twitching all over his pillow.

'Those are…' Harry began, revulsion stealing over him.

'Harry!' Dean cried, still struggling to keep Ron from the window.

'Fake,' Neville, said, picking one up and examining it closely. 'These are rubber. It's an easy charm.'

'What?' Ron thundered, taking great swipes at his own face, trying to rid himself of the huge spindly things.

'They're fake. Joke spiders. Animated to look real, see? The charm's wearing off already,' Neville said, gesturing to Ron's bedclothes, where the hundreds of spiders had become lethargic in their movements, some barely even twitching anymore.

Ron slammed the window shut and stamped on a rubber spider crawling past his foot. 'I am going to kill my brothers!' he said as he stormed out of the dormitory, shedding spiders as he went.

412. I am not allowed to enchant the ceiling in the great hall to rain vomit down

'That was horrible,' George said conversationally, dropping his sponge into a bucket.

'I can't believe we're not allowed to wash for a week though,' Fred grumbled; his back aching. 'That seems like a punishment for us and our dorm mates.'

'And we have to clean it up by hand!' George said, exhaling sharply. 'Eugh,' he said.

'What?' Fred grumbled.

'Don't breathe in too sharply!' George grimaced. 'That was nasty!'

431. I will not swap the pages from 'Magicke Moste Horrible' with 'The Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 1'

'Wow,' Fred said, sounding genuine for once.

'That is a lot of first years,' George said, in the same tone.

'Quite,' Dumbledore said, sounding quite as serious. 'And all in the Hospital Wing at once.'

'Yeah, perhaps we should have swapped it with the Standard Book of Spells Grade 5, or 6.'

'That might have ended in less bloodshed, yeah.'

'Still, those kumquat ears are fairly impressive, eh Professor?'

'Hmm,' Dumbledore said, surveying the room. 'You are most fortunate that no-one was seriously harmed. There was some very evil magic in that book.'

'We removed the last ten chapters,' Fred added conversationally. 'They looked particularly gruesome.'

Dumbledore smiled slightly. 'While, as always, I must commend your safety measures, this was more or less inexcusable.'

'Yeah…' George nodded the affirmative. 'But seriously, look at those kumquats!'

444. I shall not put up wanted posters with Harry's face on them

'What we meant was that you're highly desirable, Harry!'

'You put 'Wanted, 20 Galleon award' on a big picture of my face!' Harry scowled. 'And I was continuously picking my nose in that picture!'

'Oh yeah, tricky little glamour there,' Fred snickered. 'We tried for ages to get a picture of you actually picking your nose, but you're surprisingly fastidious about your personal appearance, Harry.'

'Ah, the vanity that comes with fame…' George sighed dramatically.

'You put them up all over Hogsmeade!' Harry said, a dull blush rising in his cheeks. 'In that bloody Madam Puddifoots!'

Fred looked a little taken aback. 'So? Didn't figure you for a Puddifoots purveyor.'

Harry looked murderous. 'I was in there with Cho Chang!' He threw himself onto the sofa. 'And if it wasn't going badly enough already, she caught sight of those bloody posters right after she started harping on about Cedric again and she burst out laughing.'

Fred and George exchanged dark looks.

'Frankly I preferred the tears,' Harry said thickly, staring into the fire.

'I'm not going to lie to you, Harry, that's probably the funniest result we could have got from this particular prank…' Fred began, very seriously.

'…But we realise the damage done to ego and…how does Lee put it, Fred? George asked delicately.

'Mojo,' Fred replied, nodding slowly.

'Yes, mojo,' George repeated. 'So we'll be willing to do a prank in your favour, if you'd like.'

'What do you mean?' Harry said, looking not at all mollified, rather, he looked mildly scared.

'Well, we could do something embarrassing to her?' Fred offered.

'Or we could exact revenge on someone else for you?' George suggested.

'Nah,' Harry sat up straighter. 'I've got it.'

'What?' they said together.

'Hand yourselves in.'

Fred rolled his eyes. 'I would have expected more, Harry…'

'I'm not finished,' Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling. 'Hand yourselves in….to Snape.'

George grimaced. 'Below the belt, Harry, below the belt…'

450. 'Hail Satan 666' is not an appropriate comment to write on Educational Decrees

'Hail Satan 666?' McGonagall screeched. 'In the current political climate, you think it wise -'

'Not wise, funny!'

'Wise – to add Hail Satan 666 to that fishwife's educational decrees?'

'Fishwife?' George asked, eyebrow raised. McGonagall scowled at him.

'See, Professor,' Fred began earnestly, 'It was either going to be 'Hail Satan 666' or 'Heil Hitler,' maybe 'Jawhol!'

'Hitler was this bloke who -'

'I know who Hitler is, you halfwit!' McGonagall thundered.

'Oh, good,' Fred said lightly, sitting back in his chair. 'We went for the Satan one because we figured not that many people would know who Hitler was around here.'

'Yeah, since the wizarding world was caught up in old Grindelwald's storm back then.'

McGonagall put her head in her hands. 'I may have to forbid you two from reading anything extracurricular. Or at all. Or from speaking, and maybe moving.'

451. Adding peroxide to Snape's shampoo is not big or clever

'Wow!' Ron exclaimed as Snape billowed into their classroom. He was not the only one.

'Um, Sir?' Pansy Parkinson raised her hand. 'Did you know -'

'Silence, Miss Parkinson!' Snape hissed, before going to the blackboard and twirling his wand so the days' ingredients appeared before them. 'We will be attempting the Confusing Concoction today, and you will be careful not to over-add the Sneezewort, won't you, Longbottom?'

Neville didn't dare to look up. 'Yes Sir,' He said, resolutely staring at his cauldron.

'Professor,' Malfoy began. 'Your hair…'

'Yes, Malfoy, I am aware,' Snape hissed.

'Oh,' Malfoy replied, nonplussed.

'Yes,' Snape continued, sounding positively dangerous, 'I have in fact looked into a mirror this morning,' he said, 'and this piece of muggle trickery is not lost on me.'

'Oh bollocks…' Ron said softly beside Harry.

'What?' Hermione whispered from Harry's other side.

'Are you kidding? This smacks of Fred and George!' Ron replied, sounding beaten.

'Weasley!' Snape snarled, pointing his wand at Ron. 'Fifty points from Gryffindor, for talking.'

'For having brothers, more like,' Ron sighed, beginning to weight the scurvy-grass required for the potion.

'It's alright,' Hermione snickered rummaging through her bag; 'Just think what he'll do to them!'

'What, take off more house points?' Harry said gloomily.

'Oh…maybe…' Hermione said, tucking something back between her books. 'But guess who just got a photograph of the 'blondes have more fun' Snape?'

'You could probably sell that to McGonagall and get all the points back!' suggested Seamus, a desk away.

452. It is not my job to redistribute confiscated items

'Oi, you there!' Fred addressed an unfortunately spotty second year girl who was some way away in the corridor. 'You Eloise Midgen?'

'Yes,' she replied, looking apprehensive.

George beamed at her. 'Then I believe this Fanged Frisbee is yours, my dear!' He handed the stunned girl the Frisbee. 'Also, me and my brother are working on this ten second pimple vanisher…come and find us at lunch, eh? We've got the time down to an hour and a half now!'

Fred sidled up to his twin as Eloise hurried off, blushing horribly. 'Did you tell her that the pimples don't exactly vanish yet? Just end up elsewhere on your body?'

'No. But it's better than on her face!' George grinned wickedly. 'Hey, there's Davies. Oi, Davies!'

Roger Davies turned around, several feet away. 'This is your nose-biting teacup, right?'

Davies ambled over to them and looked at the teacup. 'This was confiscated about three years ago,' he said, looking up.

'Yeah, we've decided to liberate all Filch's confiscated items,' Fred said, pulling out pocketfuls of magical toys and tricks. 'They were all labelled; it's easy to find the previous owners.'

'What's this?' Roger said, plucking a pair of antlers from the bag George was holding.

'Oh, those are ours, actually,' Fred said, popping them on his head. 'We charmed them to Pansy Parkinson's head last year. They couldn't get them off for ages.'

This Ever Bouncing Ball is ours too,' George said, sticking his head into the bag. 'Remember when we put it down Oliver's robes and then charmed all the openings closed?'

'Oh yeah,' Fred said vaguely. 'It was bouncing around inside his robes for about an hour.'

'He was covered in bruises when they got it out,' George added conversationally to Roger. 'I think most of these are ours, Fred.'

'Now you mention it, I think you're right. This is the bulbadox powder we put in Kenneth Towler pyjamas.'

'You two are nuts,' Roger stated with confidence, before stalking off down the corridor.

'Fred?' George nudged his twin.

'I'm on it,' Fred said, bewitching the Ever Bouncing Ball to pursue Roger.

458. I will not sign Malfoy up for voluntary service with muggles.

'The unbelievable thing is that they made him go, even after they realised the twins were behind it.' Seamus said, brandishing his wand a little too enthusiastically at a pack of exploding snap cards, which, instead of dealing themselves, burst into merrily dancing flames.

'I know. Anyone with half a brain should have known what would happen!' Parvati said scathingly.

'Apparently Professor Burbage assumed he was just an interested student who'd maybe signed up to the class too late and couldn't get in,' Hermione said dispassionately, scratching out sentences in Ron's latest History of Magic Essay.

'Get real, Hermione,' Ron replied, grinning. 'Professor Burbage is an idiot; she had to have known Malfoy would go nuts.'

'To be fair,' Harry commented lightly, adding Hermione's conclusion to his own essay, 'no-one could have known he'd hex them all into Horklumps.'

'Apparently that as an accident,' Lee Jordan said happily. 'He didn't know why he was being summoned to Dufftown and just went berserk at the sign of the muggle sign in desk.'

'I heard Dumbledore's reaction was to ask if he'd fondled the Horklumps,' Lavender grinned. 'Some aunt of his had to call off an engagement 'cause the bloke in question had that unfortunate habit!'

Harry looked disgusted. 'Horklumps?' he asked. 'Those mushroom things?'

'Fondled the living daylights out of them,' Lavender nodded impressively. 'Although Malfoy had no such compulsion.'

'I dunno, I say we spread the rumour that he did,' said a voice from the portrait hole.

'Yeah, it'd make for a good embellishment,' said an identical voice. The group by the fireplace turned to face the twins. 'Brilliant,' Lee grinned.

'Outstanding,' Parvati said admiringly.

'I saw it firsthand – I wouldn't trade that memory for anything,' Neville agreed with a chuckle.

'Horklumps?' Ron said sceptically. 'Did you do that too?'

'Nope,' Fred grinned. 'Reaction was genuine. Just wish I'd seen it too.'

'Don't suppose you'd be willing to donate to a Pensieve, Neville?' George asked. 'It'd make the detention tending to the Greenhouse Horklumps a lot more tolerable…'

459. Melons are not to be used for bludger practice in the Great Hall or anywhere else for that matter.

'How many different items have you two used for practice now?' Madam Hooch said airily, heaving the heavy wooden Quidditch crate out of its cupboard.

'Um, we used a house elf once…' Fred said, frowning.

'And we charmed the food at breakfast to act like bludgers,' George added, thinking hard.

'Remember when we put the quaffle charm on the Slytherins and made their benches float?' Fred grinned, nudging his twin, who cracked an identical grin at the memory.

'Hey, the Quidditch game in the Great Hall was a good one too,' Fred said, helping Madam Hooch drag the crate over to where George was sitting in her office.

'I think Professor McGonagall was particularly impressed with this one,' George said easily, hopping down from his chair to kneel next to the crate. 'So what are we doing, Madam Hooch?'

'Well, she was impressed, actually,' Hooch said, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. 'So she felt she should come up with a particularly creative punishment.'

The twins' grins faltered a little. 'Oh no,' Fred murmured.

'What now?' George said apprehensively.

'You have to polish the bludgers!' she said brightly. I'm just going to leave now, before you open the crate,' she added, slipping out of the room.

'Polish the bludgers?' George exclaimed to his brother. 'How? How could we possibly?'

Fred shrugged and kicked the crate open so the straining bludgers were visible. 'We're going to get our heads knocked off,' he said sadly. 'And all because a little bit of melon got on McGonagall's robes.'

'It might actually be because one landed in her boiling hot soup, and that got all over her robes,' George said wisely.

'Or because that little one knocked her hat off?'

'Maybe because that big, slightly mushy one hit Snape right in the kisser.'

'I don't know…' Fred grinned. 'I think this punishment might be worth that memory…'

474. I will not claim that all reality does not exist, including my homework, because quantum physics is not a legitimate excuse.

'I'm going to have to repeat myself, boys.'

The twins looked askance. 'You're always repeating yourself, Professor.'

'Yes, almost every lecture is the same.'

McGonagall reached for her most worn out quill, the one she reserved for the Weasleys alone, and wrote a short note to Madam Pince.

'You boys are not allowed to do any extra-curricular reading!' She hissed, signing the note and sealing it with her wand. 'No more muggle superstition nonsense, no more Latin phrasebooks, no more looking up archaic charms to bewitch the Ravenclaw doorknocker or to charm music out of people's mouths! And no more quantum bloody mechanics,' she finished, snarling. 'No more learning about things you shouldn't be learning about.'

The twins looked flabbergasted. 'You realise what you've just decreed is the exact opposite of what 'being a teacher' is?' Fred pointed out, fairly.

'Yeah, and how bored exactly do you want us to become? Because we have vast stores of knowledge just waiting to be called into action, even without new research.'

'Yeah, remember that new thing, from yesterday?' Fred nudged his twin.

'Oh yeah, research's completed on that one…' George grinned wickedly.

'Try me,' McGonagall hissed, handing them the note and pointing them towards the library.

She knew Dumbledore would be appalled, would overturn the punishment in a heartbeat, but as it was, the feeling of power was liberating.

She frowned, thinking for a moment, before it hit her. 'Wait a moment!' she cried, dashing out of the office. 'What thing from yesterday? What thing from yesterday?'

A/N: I feel pretty strongly that it's important to tell you that last time me and the birthday girl went out for a night on the town, we spent the entire night inexplicably pretending to be Andromeda and Narcissa Black, and berating strangers for not being purebloods. Never have Jaeger bombs after reading too much of DeepDownSlytherin's 'A Keen Observer.' ANYWAY, review.