As he had foreseen, second year lessons were… well, boring. At Transfiguration, McGonagall had handed them each a box with mice, which the students should transform in teacups following the instructions in the book. Weren't it for McGonagall's watchful eye, he'd just turned all those stupid mice in a tea set already and started plotting his pranks with Lazzaro and Thomas, but as it were, he had to act like this material was new for him.
So he watched how his classmates struggled with the spell, and simply began copying them: stressing the words purposefully wrong, deliberately missing his target, yelling on top of his voice, waving his wand as if it were his Beater bat rather than a fragile wooden stick.
Actually, it became sort of entertaining, watching the others blunder. Evershire tried so hard making the correct flick he made a little jump with every incantation. One of the Hufflepuff's got so worked up his mice blew up like balloons and floated away, reminding Fred of Harry's Aunt Marge. The group of girls in front of him was mostly giggling instead of practising the spell, and shrieking whenever a mouse came near the side of the box.
A mischievous smile crept onto his face. He leaned over his box so Thomas and Lazzaro wouldn't see, and fired a few doubling spells – for the maximum effect. Then, he stood back, said the incantation and made a great swirl with his wand, toppling over his box so all mice fell over the tittering tarts. The effect was immediate.
"Ho! Look out! My mice've escaped!"
"… EEEEHHHHHHH!"
"There is one in my robe, THERE IS ONE IN MY ROBE!"
"Catch them, don't let them escape!"
"THEY'RE ATTACKING ME!"
"Sybil, catch that mouse for me!"
"Mouse!? What mouse!? Get it away from me!"
"LADIES!" At once all screams were silenced under the stern gaze of an agitated McGonagall. With one flick of her wand all mice had disappeared. "What has gotten to you! They're only mice, no fire-spitting salamanders! And you…" she scowled at Fred, "What were you thinking? Throwing your mice at your class mates!? I expected better behaviour of you, Mr Weasley."
"But professor," it was a bit early to start calling her Minnie already, "it was an accident!"
"Could you then please read to me the instructions in the book and tell me how it does involve knocking over the target?"
Fred glanced down at his opened book and read the instructions out loud. "The Terra Vivus spell has the ability to change any given animal – preferably of the class Mammalia or Aves – into an item of pottery. One preforms the spell by saying the incantation clearly (TER-rah VEE-vus) while making a swift wand-movement downwards from the wrist, ending with the wand pointing at the intended target. One should not have to move any part of the body but the hand, nor should one have to make any movement but a straight line downwards."
"Is there any point in these instructions unclear to you?"
"No ma'am." Could Minerva honestly not see that Fred had just been enacting his fellow students?
She wordlessly summoned a mouse from Thomas' box and put it into Fred's. "Then would you care to perform the spell for me?"
He looked at the professor, he looked at the mouse, restrained a chuckle, cleared his throat audibly, stretched his wand hand over the mouse and then made a swift flick downwards. "Terra Vivus!"
The mouse changed into bright purple mug, festively decorated with flickering lights.
The surprise on her face reluctantly broke McGonagall's strict gaze; she seemed actually impressed with his spell work. Only one second later however, she regained her scowling composure. "Five points from Gryffindor for letting mice loose in the classroom, ten points to Gryffindor for showing competence over the material." She gave him a piercing glare over her glasses. "Try not to make it a negative."
Fred simply flashed her a smile.
Once her back was turned on them and she was far out of earshot, Lazzaro gave up pretending he could focus on his own improvement in the spell and diverted his attention to an actually intriguing subject: Fred. "How did you do that?" he whispered, amazement gleaming in his eyes, "I know you weren't really trying back then, so how did you manage to get it right at once?"
"Oh," he muttered, silently priding himself for being so conniving, "I guess these kind of things just come easily to me."
The Italian scowled, but his permanent grin made it hard to take him serious. "You lucky bastard!"
He just offered him his own most infuriating smirk.
The remaining hour they'd spent going through all possibilities to prank the Marauders, though admittedly the two younger boys weren't much help. For one, they were both rather anxious pranking them, neither wanting to get too far or too involved, and another thing was Fred knew far more of the foursome than he could let on; not only would he risk blowing his cover if he let something slip, he could upset the time-lines in a most disquieting manner and hurt people he considered his friends. His stomach turned at the thought of bringing Lupin's secret out in the open.
No, however inflated their heads may be, Remus' furry problem would remain untouched, as would the secret of their illegal Animagi-forms, though Fred doubted they'd have come that far yet. Also Sirius' family issues were out of the question, and he just refused to think of Pettigrew as the direct target.
The rat deserved a far crueller fate than a harmless prank.
...
James was the one to come up with the idea. Sirius was the one who would put it into motion. Remus was the one clever enough to mention not only Fred, but Lily Evans as well had red hair. James feared for his secret crush, and sent out Peter to stop her from entering the great hall. And all other red-heads, too, except a certain Fred Weasley, he was free to walk in.
As such, all Marauders with the exception of Peter Pettigrew, sat waiting at the Gryffindor table in anticipation.
"Uh, James, Remus, Sirius?" James and Remus looked around to find the blond boy who'd spoken, Thomas Cornfoot, and his friend Lazzaro Zabini.
"We want you to know we – Lazzaro and I – don't take part in this thing between you and Fred." Cornfoot glanced around at Zabini, who smiled at him but looked just as queasy. "We don't want to get involved."
James gave them a genuine smile. "No problem, it's him who's challenged us, not you."
He saw Cornfoot and Zabini ease at his words. They smiled gratefully, and headed to their own place. None of them had planned any pranks on the two, as they knew this urge to get one on the Marauders was Fred and Fred only. Nevertheless, if they did decide to help Fred with his plans, they would have every reason to worry…
Just then, Fred Weasley foolishly stepped through the large double doors, causing a great amount of water and foam to appear from the nothingness above his head and pour all over him.
James and Sirius roared with laughter as all students stared in shock at the fiery red-head being quenched. One by one, they came out of their daze, and began to giggle and rumour with their neighbours. Remus had severe difficulties not bursting out in chortles, and even Thomas and Lazzaro couldn't suppress a smile at Fred's soaked, foam covered, dumbfounded face.
At last, the victim found the Marauders, and gave them an acknowledging smile. Remus was silently glad Fred seemed to take it rather well, he'd hate creating true hostilities within the Gryffindor tower. Where he was concerned, their animosity with Snape was bad enough. Still, the young werewolf saw too this wasn't over yet. Fred had shown respect, no surrender. Even as Fred left a wet trail towards their table, his smirk made Remus perfectly aware he still had his own joke planned.
A few minutes after they'd stopped hollering and started eating Sirius felt something climbing up his leg: little paws clung onto his trousers and the weight dangled off his knee. Something softly stroke his ankle…
His friends gave him odd looks as his smile vanished and he ducked beneath the table. There it was… sniffling and clawing and looking straight at him with terrified, almost human eyes. A rat!
Sirius rumpled his face in disgust, and tried to shake it off.
James and Remus, both sitting opposite of him, traded non-understanding stares before peering under the cloth as well. James frowned as well at the sight. "Whose rat is that? It can't be wild, can it?"
Remus sniffed in the air. "Does smell familiar."
"What in Merlin, Remus!? You're sniffing at a rat?"
The werewolf shrugged.
"Well, I don't care what he smells like, why don't you help and get it off me!?"
James sat straight again to shake his head disapprovingly. "And breaking off true love? Can't you see!? He's obviously infuriated with you, would you deny him his one true love!? Think of the possibilities!"
Sirius shot James a withering glare. Beneath the wood, the rat was rather clinging on dear life than on dear Sirius.
"It seems tame." Remus informed them with a too amused smirk, "Maybe just tell it you don't return its feelings?"
Sirius scowled at his friends for not taking his problem serious, but nonetheless he ducked under the table again. "GET THE HELL OFF!"
To everyone's surprise, the rat squealed and ran off. The cause for this however, soon became clear as it leapt on Sirius' lap.
"WHOSE CAT IS THIS!"
James and Remus chuckled, until somewhere at the Ravenclaw table a pigtailed girl started yelling, "Hey! Miss Prissy? Where are you going? Miss Prissy!? Miss Prissyyyyy! Miiiiss Priiiiissyyyyyyyy!" A moment later Miss Prissy was brushing her head against James' pants.
Another cat was coming, black with white patches, jumping on James in an attempt to lick his ear, just as a large red male took over Remus' lap and began eating from his dish.
Just then, a needing meow came from Sirius' side. He looked at it; Sirius' face lost all colour, his mouth set in a grim line as his panicked eyes were focused on a spine-chilling sight…
Mrs Norris, looking as if she'd found the perfect father of her many, many little kittens.
While more and more cats and kittens came to snuggle against the Marauders and the whole great hall watched them in either annoyance or amusement, Fred felt kind of lost. Despite Thomas looking at him in awe and Lazzaro copying Fred's own face splitting grin, he missed someone to nudge, to collapse into in laughter, to make the final joke with, to high-five with and to stand up with, walk over to the Marauders with and tease them together about them having always been the cat-lover type. He'd never pranked anyone without George.
His smile faded quickly, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. What was this? He wasn't supposed to be an emotional wrack. He was Fred Weasley, for Merlin's sake! But who was Fred without George?
"Hey, Fred… Fred!" He looked to his left where Thomas looked at him with worry in his eyes. "Are you okay? Isn't this your prank?"
Fred's reaction startled Thomas. Or it wasn't his reaction really, but one short moment, Fred eyes locked with his, and at that moment Fred looked so much older than they both were, so much more responsible, and he couldn't bear the burden. But then, Fred's smile reappeared, and broke bravely through his worry.
"Yes, it's mine. I'm fine, sorry." he confirmed, before swiftly looking back at the food and hiding his expression.
That night, he heard him tossing in his bed. Thomas rose slowly, cautious not to wake anyone, and looked over at the bed where his red-haired friend lay. His curtains hung open, just like yesterday he'd left them open for some reason, but it didn't seem to bring him any form of comfort. Fred was obviously having a nightmare.
Despite being a Gryffindor, Thomas didn't dare to wake him from wherever he was in his dream. He felt that, whatever what was wrong with his friend, Fred wanted to keep private. So the only thing Thomas could hope, was that one day soon Fred would bring it up himself.