Meeting McGonagall went smoothly (she was the only other person Dumbledore had informed of Fred's time-travelling predicament), as did introductions with the other second year Gryffindors, of whom he – thanks Merlin's socks and whisker-curler – recognized none by face or name.

Well, no one but one…

A slightly tanned boy with playful dark curls, dark brown, lively eyes and a cordial, Lee-like smile greedily took Fred's extended hand to throw it enthusiastically up and down. "Lazzaro Zabini, welcome to Gryffindor."

Fred frowned in puzzlement. Wasn't there a Zabini in Slytherin in his old time? Fred had understood Zabini associated with Malfoy and the likes, which didn't mean he had necessarily become a Death Eater, but still, he was a pure-blood supporter who looked down on Muggle-borns and blood-traitors. How could this cheerful young boy ever be related to such a person?

Zabini mistook his pondering for bewilderment however, and recalling Fred's Hogwarts-depraved background story, he immediately plunged into an vast explanation of the many joys of being a Gryffindor: "I know what you're thinking, I had the same at first: what are these houses? It's only the place you sleep, nothing more – but I've been here now more than a year, and I can tell you, it really does matter which house you're in. I mean, what they actually do, is that they put you with people who like to do the same kind of things as you like to do, like Gryffindor is the house that likes fun, but we can be a bit too rude and intimidating now and then for shy people, so that's what's Hufflepuff's for, there they put all the shy and nice people so they boast each other's confidence, and then you have Ravenclaw, if a Gryffindor would be in Ravenclaw they would probably be complaining that he's disrupting their studies, they like to study, you see, and it's really a good thing they've put the Slytherins together, only Slytherins dare to sleep with Slytherins, and with reason…"

"As I've heard. With great reason." Fred interrupted.

Lazzaro beamed. "With magnificently great reason, imagine the causalities sleeping with Slytherins could cause."

Fred shuddered. "I'd rather not."

Lazzaro nodded, then thought about what they had said, and paled visibly. Fred burst out laughing. After a moment Lazzaro began chuckling too, and started off a whole story about himself, his family, his friends, why you shouldn't mix horseradish with grinded Erkling eyes, and life in general.

No, future families aside, Fred liked this boys Italian-accented rambling. Lazzaro had that something that reminded him of George, but even more of Lee, that something that made him seem invincible to pain or serious stuff. He seemed to be able to goof around like this all day, joking, laughing, grinning, and so he provided in what Fred now craved for the most: a truly careless companion that could take his mind off of things and bring a smile to his face. Then and there, Fred decided that this Lazzaro Zabini would soon be one of his best friends.

That night he woke up with a start. There'd been an explosion. He'd been buried under tons of debris, and when he finally had crawled out, night had fallen and the whole castle was abandoned. He was alone.

He searched the place for his friends, his family, anyone whom he could spend the night with, where had they gone? Had the battle finished, and had they left without him? Did everyone think he was dead? Was he dead? Suddenly, he saw someone, one person, sitting near the fire of the Common Room, but it was too dim to see who it was.

"Who's there?" Fred had called, relieved for the comfort of another human being, but at the same time suspicious: what was he doing, here, in the dark?

The man, or was it a boy, responded casually, as he would have on any other day…

"Fred."

That single word turned the scene from comforting to sinister, making Fred want nothing but to leave this place, but who could he turn to?

"George, is it you?" he asked, hope against hope, but the annoyed voice was unmistakably his. "Honestly, Fred. If anyone should be able to tell us apart, it should be you. I'm disappointed."

He stepped away from the copy of himself, but just then the evil Fred grabbed his wrist. Still not able to see his face, he tried to pull himself free and for a moment Fred wrestled with himself. He found his wand, blasted his malicious duplicate against the wall which collapsed upon him, killing him, crushing him like he'd been crushed, leaving George all alone – wait…

He was all alone, and he'd just killed Fred!

That was the point he'd woken up, soaked in sweat, feeling a horrible, irrational guilt washing over him, until he shook the nightmare away. What the heck? He wasn't George, and he certainly hadn't killed himself. It was pointless, beyond absurd to think he'd actually believed that in his dream. The whole dream had been beyond absurd, and terribly unsettling.

He glanced over to the bed next to him, where normally his twin would lay, but which now was occupied by a boy named Norman Evershire. The abandoned feeling of his dream remained.

He let his head fall back in his pillow. Were they searching for him, in the future? Or had that all ceased to exist, never had been there in the first place? Were Arthur and Molly even married? It was years before they would be born.

Nineteen-seventy-one, the fifth of February, now the sixth of February, was it? He took a look at the clock on his night desk. Yes, the sixth of February. A quarter to six. Soon everyone would wake up and get dressed for breakfast.

It was weird, being a second year again. The lessons would be boring, he reckoned – maybe he could help Lazzaro a bit. The corners of his lips pulled up in a half-smile. Fred Weasley helping someone with their schoolwork, who would've imagined.

A little later he was trudging down the stairs to breakfast, Lazzaro and a friend of his named Thomas Cornfoot at his side. When they passed a group of Slytherins at the entrance of the Great Hall, Fred tried his very best not to look at them, yet couldn't avoid recognizing some of the Death Eaters they'd been fighting against in the war. However, he clenched his teeth, he clenched his fists, and followed Lazzaro to the Gryffindor table, since as long as he didn't know what was going on, cautiousness was advised.

Breakfast was relatively peaceful, he wasn't asked questions he couldn't think of an answer on and Thomas and Lazzaro introduced him to some of the faces and the quirks of the school, of which some he already was familiar with, and some not. Only when he had just finished his first helping, the Great Hall was awakened by a great ruckus near the hallway…

"That's Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail." Lazzaro explained with a half-smile, "They're the Marauders."

The Marauders? Fred almost couldn't believe his ears. The Marauders were here, their role-models since their very first year! The legendary pranksters whose legacy they'd strived to continue! Their very inspiration for their shop! And they lived in this time! How he wished George were, so they could meet their idols together...

He soon noticed most of the yelling came from the Death Eater group, pink smoke rising up from their midst. Furious glares were send at a group of four Gryffindors - no! The Marauders were Gryffindors! Now he owed George money! - racing down the aisles giggling and chuckling on their way...

They were Remus, Sirius, James and Pettigrew.

"They are a year older than us, and the main reason why there is always something going on in Gryffindor house – they love pranking. Which is also the reason you shouldn't cross them though, they won't refrain from hexing you. But don't worry, as long as you aren't a Slytherin and aren't an arse, you'll be fine."

He saw now the victim of their prank: a small, greasy haired boy was covered in bright pink goo, that seemed to stick onto his clothes and on his face, blocking his view. Then Fred suddenly recognized it as one of the discarded products of Zonko's, already out of sale before he was even allowed to visit the shop – Bursting Bubble Gum: Blowing up before it's even eaten.

One of the Death Eaters he only recognized from photos called after the four, pulling out his wand. Sirius turned swiftly and did the same, before hastily ducking away from a bright purple flash of light. Scrambling up again, his wand in his hand and his friends at his back, he was interrupted by the loud voice of a certain Minerva McGonagall: "NO DUELING IN THE CORRIDORS!"

Fred snorted as his mind flashed back to the terrible battle – that he had partaken in – in the school. No duelling in the corridors. The irony.

The Marauders turned around sheepishly, grinning at the tall woman looming menacingly over the quartet. "My office. At seven. All four of you. Professor Slughorn will deal with the Slytherins." She glared over her glasses at Remus. "I'm disappointed in you, Mr Lupin."

"Their real names are Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black." Thomas clarified needlessly. However, he could impossibly know Fred new exactly who – and what – they were.

McGonagall left for the teacher's table and the foursome walked over to an empty space a little down the Gryffindor table. When they eagerly started on their breakfast, Fred suddenly caught James' eye.

He really did look like Harry.

James nudged Sirius and gestured over the table. Sirius looked up too, as did Peter and Remus. Fred was staring back unashamedly. Then he apparently remembered he wasn't supposed to know them beyond yesterday, and returned to filling his empty plate like nothing had happened.

Nonetheless, it was too late, as Sirius, Remus and James stood up and approached the odd little boy, wanting to know now exactly what he was doing here.

"So now you are a Gryffindor, huh?" James said, commenting on Fred's school uniform and red and golden tie.

Lazzaro beamed at the older boy. "Yes, he is! He is home-schooled by his parents, but had to leave because it was to dangerous there! He also has a brother, George, who was supposed to come but didn't arrive, Fred is a bit worried for him..." He turned around and gave Fred an encouraging smile, "But I'm sure he'll come soon! I'd love to meet him, I'm sure he's a very cool guy!"

Reminded of what he was missing, Fred stabbed his eggs a bit forcefully. "I'd rather not talk about it, Lazzaro..."

He looked up to face the Marauders, "and sorry for yesterday, I'm not usually that gloomy. I was stressed out, the spell was having its toll on me, and I was worried about George..." not wanting to think on that topic further, he let a mischievous smile slide on his face, "But you never told me you were the pranksters of the school."

Lazzaro's head shot from Fred to the Marauders and back, eyes wide and mouth awed. "You already know each other!?"

"Yeah, we picked him up from the corridor yesterday, where he appeared." Sirius said non-chalantly.

Remus clear his throat pointedly. "Well, actually," Sirius relented, "it was Moony and Wormtail who picked him up, but we were all there when he woke up. He was a bit of an ass then, but now he has apologized, so everything is fine. And, yes! We're pranksters, and probably the best you'll ever see!"

Fred stood up and offered his hand, with an impish grin even wider than Lazzaro's. "The best pranksters I'll ever see, huh? Not too sure about that. The ones we did at home were pretty impressive."

"So you're a prankster too?" asked James as he shook his hand.

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Oh, James," exclaimed Sirius, "It seems we've found competition here!" Fred wasn't sure he was being sarcastic or not.

James smirked, and eyed him as if calculating whether Fred was a worthy opponent. Beside him, Lazzaro kept grinning obliviously (Blaise surely had inherited the Slytherin genes from his mother) and Thomas showed a befitting mixture of excitement and fear. Fred absentmindedly noticed Pettigrew had crept behind his friends again.

"James." Remus groaned wearily. "He's only just arrived! Give him a rest, will you?"

This sparked Fred to take action. "Oh no, Remus! Now you're really underestimating me. A rest – will you, please! – I've done more than enough resting in the Hospital Wing. Now, it's time for fun!" He clasped his hands together, silently laughing at the glances the Marauders were giving each other – if they hadn't thought Fred was insane before, they certainly did now.

"So what was it you wanted to propose to me, my dearest James?" he called jovially, "Tagging along with your little group, getting one on the Slytherins? Creating some great riot in the hall, to serve as a cover for your own mischief? I've heard about the kind of things you've done, and I greatly approve. Would love to join, actually." He gave them his evilest smirk, to convince them of his truly felt devotion. This was one of his greatest childhood dreams ever since finding the map, pranking with the Marauders! And if he ever needed something to distract his mind, now was the time.

"Join us!?" Sirius exclaimed indignantly, "Why would we allow sneaky, ickle second-years!? Not wanting to offend you, or anything, but I doubt you'll ever be able keep up."

Fred looked at Peter again, this time with one raised eye-brow. A moment later he shook off his pondering again, and put up a semi-affronted face.

"No offense taken, but it seems to me you're mistaking me for an ordinary, sneaky, ickle second-year! Do you really want to imply I'm an amateur on the noble field of pranking?"

James smirked. "I'd rather call it a bluff."

"That's it!" Fred cried dramatically, an accusing finger hovering in front of the offending boy's spectacles. "Pranking war, starting this lunch!"

He had to suppress his sniggering as he heard several gasps around him. Had he really now challenged the Marauders to a pranking war? Yes, he had! How could he not, they had just accused him of being not up to their standards! And even though the Marauders had been the twins' gods and role-models for much of their time at Hogwarts, he had his name as joke shop owner to defend.

Caught by a sudden flame of competition, James wildly pointed back, almost slamming his fist into Fred's nose, hollering: "You're on!"

That was it. He sat back on the bench, returned to his much needed food (there was a reason they'd only start at lunch time) and resumed eating, ignoring the wide-eyed stares he was getting from his house-mates.

"Have you any idea what you've just done?" said Thomas in a whisper.

"Yes," he replied casually, "I'm about to put those wankers in their place."

"Didn't you listen!?" Lazzaro almost squealed, "I told you, they're the Marauders! One does not cross them, or they get relentlessly pranked! Why don't you listen when I talk!"

"I did listen." Fred told them factually. "And I know exactly what I'm up to."

Thomas shook his head. "You're in for it, buddy. They are the worst troublemakers the school has ever seen. McGonagall says so herself!"

Fred only smirked; as the next words that left his mouth weren't meant for anyone to hear. "Reckon she does. Though, she has yet to meet the Weasley twins…"