The Great Prank War of 1990

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to JK Rowling.

Author Notes: Reviews are always nice. (Date is based off Nick's 500th deathday, so Harry started in 1991, and Fred & George started in 1989, therefore this story takes place in their second year at Hogwarts.)

Chapter 1: Laying down the Gauntlet

There are many schools; this is given. Wherever you go, even in many poor third world countries, you will find some form of education teaching children the fundamentals of Art, Literature, and Mathamatics. Hogwarts was not like any of those schools. While students at other schools may be learning geometry and truth tables, Hogwarts students are learning the fine arts of Charms and Potion making. The parallels between the two types of schools, namely muggle and wizarding schools, are few and very far between.

One such parallel is that all schools, even those in the third world countries, have a delinquent or two, or three, or four . . . The point is that these delinquent children take it in their heads that they should pull what they call "pranks" on fellow students and teachers because they wish to make everyones lives more difficult and stressful, while at the same time making theirs all the more enjoyable. The chief difference between the pranksters is that while non-wizarding schools had mere amateurs and rookies, Hogwarts had professionals. More specifically, Hogwarts had Fred and George.

It was early in the second week of the school year and classes were going on as they are wont to do and work was beginning to pile up on everyones' desk whilst being completely ignored, except by a select few students whose lives revolved around their studies. Fred and George were not one of those students.

It is hard to describe what Fred and George did in regards to their school work because no one ever sees them actually doing anything in regards to it at all. So the best way to describe it is most likely by not mentioning it at all because their work isn't at all worth mentioning to them.

The Great Hall was decked out with the finest bits of magic in all of Britain, and the students ate comfortably in the gigantic room underneath the bewitched ceiling that appeared to be the sky during a beautiful sunlit day, much like it was outside, while illusionary birds twittered happily about.

The Gryffindor table was bubbling with conversation, not because anyone had anything to talk about but because lunch tables, in general, bubble with mindless conversation all the time because people feel it is their duty to tell their exploits to the entire world when they do something minimally interesting. Fred and George were certainly one of those types of people you'd catch telling stories, and today was no different, for they were quickly telling a tale of how they made a Hufflepuff so lost and confused on her way back from class that she sat down and started crying until someone found her.

Sitting around Fred and George were the rest of their year-mates, including Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson, and they were all leaning forward eagerly as they illustrated their tale with florid words and dramatic hand gestures. Fred and George somehow made their treachery seem like an act of heroism. But, as interesting as that story was, their food makes a much more interesting story. Fred was eating what appeared to be pasta, well-cooked with soft linguine noodles covered in a thick marinara sauce and topped with some premium mozzarella cheese. George, on the other hand, opted to take some medium-rare steak which had grill lines etched across it and was topped with a sweet barbecue sauce.

The cheese was not cheese and the barbecue sauce wasn't what it appeared to be – specifically, it wasn't actually barbecue sauce.

They took their bites and foolishly believed none of their friends tampered with their food before they picked it up and started eating. Oh, how naive they were. Never again.

They also never expected that Fred's mozzarella was actually Polka-Dotted Powder from Zonko's and that George's barbecue sauce was, in fact, a Heatless-Fire-Engulfer sauce. Given, they did taste exactly like their counterparts though, so it is perfectly understandable why they might not have noticed they were pranked at first. A fact which made it all the funnier for those who weren't Fred and George.

So, the bites were taken and, much to Georges surprise, flames erupted from his hands and looked like they should be in incredible pain. He shrugged it off and continued eating after recognizing the effects of the Heatless-Fire-Engulfer sauce, he always wanted to be hit with one of those. Fred kept eating as well, oblivious to the fact that he had also been pranked.

By the time they finished their food the table was in hysterics and Fred and George looked at one another.

"You have purple spots," George pointed out to Fred who looked at himself.

"I do," he said with a nod of agreement. "Are you aware you are on fire?"

"I am."

"Good."

"Fred?"

"Yes, George?" Fred said with a bit of a smile coming to his lips.

"I believe we have been 'pranked'," George said making little quotations with his fingers as he said the word.

"Aye," Fred said in understanding. "I'm afraid we are going to have to do it."

George nodded in mock solemnity to his brother, "No other way."

"Well, if it has to be it has to be," sighed Fred.

They both got up and looked at their giggling friends who believed they got the better of them. Fred and George said simultaneously and melodramatically with fists raised into the air, "We hereby declare war on your sniveling souls!"

"And we shall not stop - "

"- until you repent - "

" - your treacherous deeds."

Pause.

"That and beg for mercy," added Fred.

"Yes! Especially mercy!"

With that Fred and George left their friends cracking up in hysterics and walked out of the room briskly while everyone watched them leave; people on fire and having strange purple dots on them tend to attract attention for some reason.

They played it off as people started to giggle and heckle them as they walked out. They rose their chins and acted as if they purposely did this to themselves. They were supposed to look like this.

When they finally passed out through the doors at the end of the Great Hall and started to head down the numerous hallways to their dormitory George was the first one to speak, "I don't believe they took us seriously."

"They'll learn soon enough," Fred grinned and it quickly spread over to George like an epidemic. They. Will. Learn.

"What first?"

"Simple is best," Fred said knowingly. One of the twins favorite jokes was a simple one they played on their mother which required only a chicken bone for a prop and ended up with her getting kicked out of the premier wizarding museums for attempting to donate a chicken bone to their archeology exhibit. It was a classic.

"Agreed. Any ideas?" George asked. He already knew the answer though; Fred always had ideas.

"Plenty. You?"

"Enough."

"Good."

"Let's use them all," George said and his grin turned feral as the mayhem that might be caused played before his eyes like a movie reel; it was beautiful.

"Not too quickly, though. I'd like to make them suffer for a while before we let them surrender."

"Fine, fine," George lamented sadly, "I suppose we can be a little easy on them at first."