Much Ado About Hogwarts Chapter 9 Smeg heads and Head boys Disclaimer: Okay, so you may think I am J. K. Rowling because it took so long to get this written (rim shot) but I'm not. I don't think I'm Shakespeare either, but who knows, I've never had a past life regression. . . Okay, I'm pretty sure I'm not Shakespeare. A/N: Sorry about the format guys, I don't know why my computer does this when I upload stories. Try to bear with me. And if anybody knows how to fix it, please tell. R&R and I'll give you a cookie! Oatmeal. Okay, you win, chocolate chip. ************************************************************* Fred frowned, his freckled face registering annoyance. "Do you suppose we're really fit to be prefects? George put a smile on his identical face. "If we weren't supposed to be prefects, we wouldn't be." "That's some logic you've got there, my fine brother. I can't believe I never thought of that!" Fred saw an opportunity to flex his vocabularious muscles. "Who do you think is best discomfitted for head boy this year?" George rolled his eyes. "Percy, of course. Percy's always head boy. Ah, speak of the Devil! Percy, just the head boy we wanted to see!" "See," Fred started. "Having so much power, being head boy and all." "What do you want?" Percy smelled trouble. George continued. "Well, there's an important quidditch game coming up." "The finals," Fred piped up. "We're going to need our seeker in tip-top condition." George this time. Fred turned Percy towards him. "And with the Yule Ball fast approaching. . ." George continued. "You know how cruel young love can be." Fred feigned a swoon. "Make sure nothing happens to make him. . ." "Sulky." Both now. "What am I supposed to do?" Percy wondered, not even half seriously. "Beat off all the girls with a stick?" "Of course not, dear brother," George reassured him. "We would never ask you to do that!" Fred protested. "Only the untrustworthy ones!" George said. "Good luck!" Added Fred. They passed out of the hallway. Then, conveniently for the fanfiction writer, who did not feel like walking to another corridor, Crabbe and Goyle passed by the same area. "It worked?" Goyle could hardly believe it. "Yeah, it was easy. I convinced Parvati that I love redheads." Crabbe laughed. "I had her put on a red wig, then I kissed her right by the window." "And Potter bought it?" Crabbe asked incredulously. "Wow. He's dumber than we are." Goyle nodded in agreement.