Switching Hour
Miranda Shadowind

Author's Note: This chapter's more serious than the first, but has some subtle foreshadowing and turns into a semi-songfic toward the end.

Chapter 2: Second Born, Second Best

"Second born! Second best!" -Teenage Ramses, "Prince of Egypt"

"No way..." George breathed.

"S'gotta be a prank sent by Lee..." Fred rationalized, pocketing his camera. The twins compared envelopes, but the green handwriting was identical, as were the words save the different initials. "He could've bewitched a quill to mimic all that." 'Lord knows we've done it loads of times.'

'Hehe, yeah...' "But then why didn't you get two owls instead of one? Ron, Ginny, and me all got ours just now..."

"I just don't know..." Fred pulled out his wand and poked it into his envelope. A single spell could settle this once and for all. "Finite Incantato!"

Nothing. The silver badge still lay shining within. If not for his mother standing right in front of him Fred would've swore right about now. This wasn't happening - it was impossible!

Ignoring the offending badge, he fished out the two pieces of parchment. The first was his school supplies list, which again included dress robes. Apparently the Yule Ball would be repeated that year. His thoughts drifted to Angelina Johnson, whom he'd asked to the ball the year before. What a night that had been...

"Third Head Boy in the family! Well, let's see the other one, then."

Fred snapped to attention upon hearing his mother's voice for the first time in about ten minutes. And for the first time all morning (or at least since Percy had chased him and George downstairs), it sounded pleased as well as full of pride. Ron on the other hand could be heard mumbling something under his breath.

"Right..." he muttered, stuffing the list back next to the badge and unfolding the second piece, a letter. He skimmed through it, mumbling/quoting various parts in a monotone as he went along. "...can't have two Head Boys, same House or not..." Two Head Boys... An evil grin crept across his face for a moment before vanishing as he went on. "Blah blah blah... Sincerely yours, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin, First Class, etc., etc... M'surprised they didn't pick you, you're the level-headed one..."

Those last words had been full of sarcasm as Fred turned his head toward where George had been, only to find that his mirror image had backed away, looking hurt and betrayed.

You and me
We used to be together
Everyday together always...

I really feel
That I'm losing my best friend

Now George knew how Ron felt, sort of. He and Fred had never felt overshadowed by Bill, Charlie, and Percy; they (the twins) had their prankster reputation and unmatched Quidditch skills. George was a minute or so younger than Fred, but they had always been equals, identical good looks aside.

I can't believe this could be
The End

At least until now...

It looks as though
you're letting go
And if it's real
Well I don't want to know...

"I am NOT level-headed!!" George snapped, his tone surprising everyone. "We never really were equals, were we?!"

"Of course you're-"

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts

"Second born, second best! I should've known..." With that, he stormed back past the table, knocked over a confused Percy, and charged up the stairs.

"George, wait! That's not what I meant!" Fred yelled, racing after him with the envelope still in one hand. The Burrow shook a bit from the furious pounding of feet on its upper floors.

Percy rubbed his head and wound up getting dung in his hair as he rose to his feet. "Aren't you going to do something, Mother?"

Mrs. Weasley shook her head even though she looked worried. "No... No it's probably best they sort this out themselves. If George goes mad over the whole thing those two have brother wands so they won't get far in a duel." Mr. Ollivander had explained the Priori Incantatem effect the same day he'd sold the twins their wands.

"You're not going to repremand them for all that running and the dungbomb besides?!"

Don't speak

Ron glared at him. "Shut up Weatherby."