** This is a series of drabbles, ficlets and one shots following our dear Fred and Hermione from June of 1995 (shortly before the third task of the Triwizard Tournament) to an as-of-yet undetermined point post-war.**
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31 August 1995
Fred and George had just apparated back into their room, still chortling amongst themselves about ickle-Ronniekins and his shiny new prefect badge, when Hermione blew in and descended upon them like an angry chimera.
Retrospectively, they probably should have thought to lock the door.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded in a furious whisper, storming toward them while still clutching her own letter and badge.
"Just a bit of lighthearted teasing," Fred replied flippantly with his hands up, not even attempting to defuse the situation.
"Lighthearted teasing?! Ron has enough of an inferiority complex without the two of you purposely digging at it. Circe's tits, talk about low-hanging fruit… Pick something else to tease him about, if you must; he doesn't make it particularly difficult."
George started to laugh at her comment, but it died with a guttural choking sound when her head snapped suddenly in his direction.
Fred took a different, if much less wise, approach, cheeks flushing and aggravation flickering in his eyes. "Oi! Don't tell me what I can and can't say to my brother! I put up with the prat for eleven years before you came along. Besides, like you were much better? 'Me too, Harry, me too! Oh, what? Are you sure it's Ron?'"
He may not have realised it, heated as he was, but Fred's mocking, girlish impression of her crossed a line and George had the good sense to take cover near his headboard, placing a pillow strategically between himself and the witch.
"Unbelievable. Just when I start to think…" Hermione's eyes were wide in shock and she paused to shake her head, sucking in a deep breath. When she opened her mouth again to speak, rather than the angry, shrill pitch it held earlier, her tone was low and frigid, completely calm. It was far more frightening. "If you thought my comment downstairs was a joke, I strongly encourage you to think again. Ron isn't the only new prefect, after all. Perhaps you really had better watch your step."
They stood glowering at one another for a long moment before she turned on her heel and stalked out, badge catching the light and winking at him contemptuously as she went.
Fred was breathing hard and shaking his head, trying to comprehend how someone so small could be so exceptionally vexing.
"Well, you were right," George eventually said, looking between his brother and the still-ajar door. "I definitely think it's going to be an interesting year."
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A/N: Surely not all of you forgot that these two bickered a considerable amount this year, did you?
Also, it's just occurred to me that because of FFN's formatting restrictions, you've no way to see the artwork that I do for each chapter of this series. If you're curious I've put them all into a public album on flickr. Just search "Wrath of Macy" and go to "People."