Fred paused from his studies for a moment and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Surely his Astronomy notes could do without him for a few minutes.
The common room was deathly quiet. Every head was hovering over a book or a pile of notes, as it was Easter Holidays and every professor felt great happiness in delivering them all a basket full of exams. It was especially important this year for him and George. Their 7th and final year, they would be facing those horrible N.E.W.T.s - as they were constantly being reminded by Professor McGonagall, who seemed to think that neither of them took it seriously enough.
He frowned. He would've much rather preferred eating a bucketful of bogey-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
He shivered a little. He never really favored silence. He found his comfort in laughter and maybe even a little bit of panic.
That's what he was famous - or rather infamous - for, really. He and his twin brother George were always pulling a prank or two, and have been named the greatest troublemakers Hogwarts has ever seen. He doubted very much whether that news would've made their mother proud. She was always off on them about their constant trouble making.
It's not like he and George did it to make her even more disappointed with them than she already is. It was hard to stand out in a family of nine. He wasn't sure if George had felt the same way, but for Fred, trouble making and jokes seem to be the only way to get any attention in the Weasley family. He felt rather sorry for Ron and Ginny just then, them having to put up with being the youngest and having to live up to all their siblings. But it wasn't like he and George didn't have much to live up to. On the contrary, they had alot to live up to. What with their eldest brother, Bill, being Head Boy in his day. Their second eldest brother, Charlie, was so good as the Quidditch captain that he was a damn legend. And lastly, Percy. Fred reckoned that Percy knew what he had to live up to and was bent on coming out the shiniest of them all - prefect, Head Boy, and now working for the Ministry of Magic.
He scowled, remembering the countless arguements he and George had had with their mum about getting jobs at the Ministry.
He thought they had made it clear to her that all they wanted to do was open a joke shop, preferably somewhere in Hogsmeade. But she just wouldn't see eye-to-eye with them on it. She thought they were wasting their talents, throwing their lives away. But, to Fred, they had no talents - except for inventing all sorts of gags. Sure they were quite good with the Beater's club at Quidditch, but nothing so good that it would stand out.
That's all they had really, him and George. Their jokes. He seriously doubted whether Bill, Charlie, or Percy had made as much people as they have laugh. It was a gift, he told himself. Not many people can brighten moods and flip frowns upside down like they can.
He let out a sigh, resting his head on his hands lazily.
Yeah right, he thought. 'A gift'. The only 'gift' the two of them had were the sweaters their mum had constantly sewn them every Christmas. He made a mental note to actually wear them one day.
He glanced over at George, who seemed to be struggling with the decision of reading his Transfiguration notes or fallen asleep on them.
He looked back up at the ceiling again, staring at the glowing gold light that seemed to be coming from the ceiling itself.
He chuckled inwardly. He wondered if George ever had thoughts like he had. Wondered if, after every prank and joke, George had secretly regretted them. Because as much as Fred loved a good prank or two, it still pained him to see that disappointed look on their mum's face.
He frowned again. That look was worse than any detention Snape could give him.
He desperately wanted to truly make her proud one day. But what could he do? He wasn't exactly the bookworm Percy and Bill had been. Neither was he good around the Bludgers enough to come anywhere near being called a legend. The only possibility, it seemed to Fred, was back to his jokes again.
He touched on the whole gift thing again.
But what could he do - send their mum a card with a punch line? He was starting to feel that he could never make her proud. Never hear her say the words, "That's my son right there, Frederick Weasley," with that beam on her face she had only given his older brothers.
Feeling much worse than he had before, he forced himself to turn his attention back to the planet of Neptune and how it affects the growth of gillyweed.
But his mum's disappointed face lingered in his mind.
Maybe, he thought reluctantly, that he and George should go into the Ministry. No doubt the two of them would be completely miserable, but just once he'd like to see her beam at him.
Just as he was figuring out a good arguement to tell George about getting a job at the Ministry, he felt a small, sharp pain from his right hand.
A large brown owl was looking rather irritable, an envelope clutched tightly in it's talons.
Fred, taking the envelope, muttered a 'thank you' and the owl left - quite in a hurry - back to the Owlrey.
He opened the envelope, and out fell a piece of parchment and two red hawk tail feather quills.
Pausing a bit to admire the fine, red quills - which was threatening to camouflage itself in his hair - and turned to the parchment.
Dear Fred and George,
I gather you two'll be needing these for your N.E.W.T.s coming up. I wish you both the best of luck and hope. I expect an owl just as soon as you two get your grades back, do you hear me? Well, I just want you two to know that I'm proud of you both, even if I don't seem like it sometimes. I'd literally lose my sanity if you two weren't always there to give me a good laugh when I need it. Sometimes the best way to make your problems seem better is to forget them, even if only for a while.
Send my love to Ron and Ginny.
And be good.
Much Love,
Mum
Fred let out a small chuckle, quiet enough that no one in the common room whipped their head around to "shh!" him. He was grinning broadly, his eyes falling over his mum's words over and over again. All that time they had been making her proud, when he had been thinking quite the opposite.
He looked back at his Astronomy notes, now with a more determined look on his face. Now that he had gotten what he wanted - he had no idea he had had it all along - he felt determined to keep it. He already had Quidditch. He might as well get the bookworm thing downpat too.
He gave George a shove on his arm. "Wake up!" he whispered, picking up his new quill.
George looked up at him, half-asleep. "Eh?"
"C'mon we've got N.E.W.T.s to study for!" Fred told him eagerly. He immediately pulled out a new piece of parchment to write down more detailed notes as his twin cast him a bewildered and astonished look.
The common room was deathly quiet. Every head was hovering over a book or a pile of notes, as it was Easter Holidays and every professor felt great happiness in delivering them all a basket full of exams. It was especially important this year for him and George. Their 7th and final year, they would be facing those horrible N.E.W.T.s - as they were constantly being reminded by Professor McGonagall, who seemed to think that neither of them took it seriously enough.
He frowned. He would've much rather preferred eating a bucketful of bogey-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
He shivered a little. He never really favored silence. He found his comfort in laughter and maybe even a little bit of panic.
That's what he was famous - or rather infamous - for, really. He and his twin brother George were always pulling a prank or two, and have been named the greatest troublemakers Hogwarts has ever seen. He doubted very much whether that news would've made their mother proud. She was always off on them about their constant trouble making.
It's not like he and George did it to make her even more disappointed with them than she already is. It was hard to stand out in a family of nine. He wasn't sure if George had felt the same way, but for Fred, trouble making and jokes seem to be the only way to get any attention in the Weasley family. He felt rather sorry for Ron and Ginny just then, them having to put up with being the youngest and having to live up to all their siblings. But it wasn't like he and George didn't have much to live up to. On the contrary, they had alot to live up to. What with their eldest brother, Bill, being Head Boy in his day. Their second eldest brother, Charlie, was so good as the Quidditch captain that he was a damn legend. And lastly, Percy. Fred reckoned that Percy knew what he had to live up to and was bent on coming out the shiniest of them all - prefect, Head Boy, and now working for the Ministry of Magic.
He scowled, remembering the countless arguements he and George had had with their mum about getting jobs at the Ministry.
He thought they had made it clear to her that all they wanted to do was open a joke shop, preferably somewhere in Hogsmeade. But she just wouldn't see eye-to-eye with them on it. She thought they were wasting their talents, throwing their lives away. But, to Fred, they had no talents - except for inventing all sorts of gags. Sure they were quite good with the Beater's club at Quidditch, but nothing so good that it would stand out.
That's all they had really, him and George. Their jokes. He seriously doubted whether Bill, Charlie, or Percy had made as much people as they have laugh. It was a gift, he told himself. Not many people can brighten moods and flip frowns upside down like they can.
He let out a sigh, resting his head on his hands lazily.
Yeah right, he thought. 'A gift'. The only 'gift' the two of them had were the sweaters their mum had constantly sewn them every Christmas. He made a mental note to actually wear them one day.
He glanced over at George, who seemed to be struggling with the decision of reading his Transfiguration notes or fallen asleep on them.
He looked back up at the ceiling again, staring at the glowing gold light that seemed to be coming from the ceiling itself.
He chuckled inwardly. He wondered if George ever had thoughts like he had. Wondered if, after every prank and joke, George had secretly regretted them. Because as much as Fred loved a good prank or two, it still pained him to see that disappointed look on their mum's face.
He frowned again. That look was worse than any detention Snape could give him.
He desperately wanted to truly make her proud one day. But what could he do? He wasn't exactly the bookworm Percy and Bill had been. Neither was he good around the Bludgers enough to come anywhere near being called a legend. The only possibility, it seemed to Fred, was back to his jokes again.
He touched on the whole gift thing again.
But what could he do - send their mum a card with a punch line? He was starting to feel that he could never make her proud. Never hear her say the words, "That's my son right there, Frederick Weasley," with that beam on her face she had only given his older brothers.
Feeling much worse than he had before, he forced himself to turn his attention back to the planet of Neptune and how it affects the growth of gillyweed.
But his mum's disappointed face lingered in his mind.
Maybe, he thought reluctantly, that he and George should go into the Ministry. No doubt the two of them would be completely miserable, but just once he'd like to see her beam at him.
Just as he was figuring out a good arguement to tell George about getting a job at the Ministry, he felt a small, sharp pain from his right hand.
A large brown owl was looking rather irritable, an envelope clutched tightly in it's talons.
Fred, taking the envelope, muttered a 'thank you' and the owl left - quite in a hurry - back to the Owlrey.
He opened the envelope, and out fell a piece of parchment and two red hawk tail feather quills.
Pausing a bit to admire the fine, red quills - which was threatening to camouflage itself in his hair - and turned to the parchment.
Dear Fred and George,
I gather you two'll be needing these for your N.E.W.T.s coming up. I wish you both the best of luck and hope. I expect an owl just as soon as you two get your grades back, do you hear me? Well, I just want you two to know that I'm proud of you both, even if I don't seem like it sometimes. I'd literally lose my sanity if you two weren't always there to give me a good laugh when I need it. Sometimes the best way to make your problems seem better is to forget them, even if only for a while.
Send my love to Ron and Ginny.
And be good.
Much Love,
Mum
Fred let out a small chuckle, quiet enough that no one in the common room whipped their head around to "shh!" him. He was grinning broadly, his eyes falling over his mum's words over and over again. All that time they had been making her proud, when he had been thinking quite the opposite.
He looked back at his Astronomy notes, now with a more determined look on his face. Now that he had gotten what he wanted - he had no idea he had had it all along - he felt determined to keep it. He already had Quidditch. He might as well get the bookworm thing downpat too.
He gave George a shove on his arm. "Wake up!" he whispered, picking up his new quill.
George looked up at him, half-asleep. "Eh?"
"C'mon we've got N.E.W.T.s to study for!" Fred told him eagerly. He immediately pulled out a new piece of parchment to write down more detailed notes as his twin cast him a bewildered and astonished look.