"Another Weasley, eh?"

Fred barely managed to keep himself from throwing the hat from atop his head.

"How many more of you are coming?" The voice continued, exasperated. "It's quite boring, you know, all you Gryffindors… except… that's odd."

Fred got over his shock (warning: mind invaded) and joked with a smile as brittle as his control, "Well, I live to surprise. If I may, what's so odd?"

"You've got quite the mind there," the Hat murmured. "Very cunning, though I suppose you've had to be with your past."

Fred didn't like the insinuation, and prompted, "So what house?"

A light chuckle, and Fred shivered. It sounded almost ominous. "Oh let's shake things up a little, shall we?" Fred suddenly felt small, with the weight of the ceiling and the stares of students and the thin, worn-down brim of the hat. "SLYTHERIN!"

The sound of stilted and hesitant applause reached his ears, and with it a parting whisper from the hat, "This will be such fun…"

Fred carefully slid off the raggedy piece of cloth and, when McGonagall didn't automatically reach for it, settled it on the school.

He glanced around the still whispering hall, before trooping over to his table with a wide grin on his face. A glance at George showed freckles starkly contrasting with a pale face. Percy and Charlie were not much better, each stiff from shock. Percy was rubbing his glasses nervously.

Fred sat down at an empty space hastily created for him by his gaping housemates and kept an easy smile on his face. His ears were ringing and he felt slightly dazed, if not 'd had a vague premonition tapping the back of his brain into a hyper aware state since he first got on the train.

Up front, McGonagall finally regained her composure enough to call out "George Weasley!"

Fred's twin went up to the stage looking very much like he was being sentenced to execution, but when he sat down, quiet determination seeped into his expression.

Fred felt only mildly sorry for him, too preoccupied with the idea of being separated from his twin. That would cause a mutiny, one that Fred would be more than happy to lead.

George had his face screwed up in intense concentration, a familiar stubbornness scrunching up his brow. The last time Fred saw that, it had ended with Charlie howling with his hair on fire from a burst of accidental magic and the coveted broom firmly in George's hand.

Fred watched in anticipation as George seemed to come to a conclusion in his head and nodded unconsciously as if affirming his decision.

George abruptly stood up, whipped out his wand, and held it under the hat. The tip of his wand caught fire with a spell their mother had taught them for cooking.

Ignoring McGonagall's shocked "Mr Weasley!", George announced, "Put me in Slytherin, or the hat gets it." His face was dead serious despite the cliche language.

"Alright, alright!" The Hat shouted. "SLYTHERIN!"

George promptly put down the Hat, grinned at McGonagall, and practically vaulted over the tables to sit next to Fred.

"I got in," George smirked at his twin, mindless of the stilted silence around them.

"Hey, that was awesome!" Fred laughed, loudly and freely.

"I know," George said smugly. Fred felt a burst of pride and relief.

"Hey, Weasleys," a gruff voice called out to them. They looked up to see an older Slytherin eyeing them. "Don't cause trouble, got it?"

"Oh, we can't promise that." Fred laughed.

"Don't cause trouble for the house," the older boy amended.

"Oi, you're being to soft, Warrington," a girl scoffed. "Trouble will bring you our own form of retribution." She warned with a hard look in her eyes. "And retribution for us Slytherins is different than you are used to." Her words were ominous and accompanied with an eerily in sync smirk by five other Slytherins who were near enough to hear the words.

George kept a frozen smile while Fred just laughed. The smirks faltered.

"Great," a young first year with slicked black hair whispered to his mate. "We get the mental bloodtraitor."

Fred's smile grew sharper.

So, taking suggestions, cause I'm fresh out.