A/N: This was inspired by a thing I was doing with a youth group. We were playing kickball but could only go one base if we didn't slide, because there were plastic bags with water on them to slide on. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. I also don't know the entire concept of kickball, even though I've played it five or six times. So don't hate me for getting something wrong. This is also just Fred and George's version, something I talked about with one of my friends during the youth group thing.
"Hey, Fred. Fred. Fred. Fred. Forge. Forge. Forge. Forge!"
Fred was woken up by his twin saying his name repeatedly.
"What, Gred?" he asked, looking at his brother.
"I know what to do today," George told him. "I took a look at a Muggle magazine Dad brought home. There's a Muggle sport called kickball, but I want to add a touch of our own to it."
"Okay, what is it?" asked Fred, sitting up.
"So let me explain kickball first. There's four bases; base one, base two, base three, and home base. You have a ball rolled to you and you kick it, but if it's caught you're out. There's sections called innings, and in each inning usually both teams play once. For every player to get onto home base, that's one point for the team. Or at least that's what I remember."
"Okay, go on," said Fred, smiling widely at the things they could do to adjust this game to prankster standards.
"I was thinking that we could play it in the air, and on each base there's a Skiving Snackbox you have to eat. Then we could have plastic with water on it and you have to slide onto the base or it doesn't count. And instead of a kickball, we use a bewitched ball that moves when you go to kick it," explained George, grinning. "Let's go tell the rest of Gryffindor!"
The twins left their dorm, going down to the common room and standing on a table.
"If there's anyone who's not here, if their roommates could go get them, it would be very much appreciated," said Fred. There was some movement, and five minutes later everyone in Gryffindor was in the common room.
"So my brother here got the brilliant idea of a new sport," said Fred.
"I was thinking, for you Muggle-borns, out there, we could create a magic version of kickball," said George. He explained his idea, and Dean Thomas started cheering, as well as several other Muggle-borns. Even Hermione Granger was cheering. "Come on, hopefully Slytherin's not practicing."
All of Gryffindor followed the identical pair of redheads as they walked to the Quidditch field. Fred and George had levitated the things they needed and were about to go out onto the grass when they were stopped by what looked like a toad in a bright pink cardigan.
"Would you mind moving so we can play our game?" said Fred, looking Umbridge in the eye without a trace of fear.
"What kind of game?"
"A Muggle game with added magic qualities." George didn't look at all scared either as he stood by his brother, looking at Umbridge.
"What qualities?" Umbridge was glaring at the twins in front of her.
"Nothing dangerous," replied Fred in an almost too calm voice. Umbridge obviously didn't have anything else to say, because she walked away, her face bright red. The group of Gryffindors walked on, until they got to a grassy clearing. Fred and George mounted their brooms, taking the supplies with them. After setting everything up, they went back down to solid ground, asking who didn't like flying or didn't have a broomstick. After they got that settled and sorted everyone into two teams, all flying into the air. Fred and George had chosen to be on opposite teams.
"Okay, there'll be a different Snackbox on each base. You have to eat the end that causes the effect, then eat the antidote end. Don't worry, we've suffered from Fever Fudge, so that's not going to be on a base," explained George.
"This is going to be so funny when it's Ron's turn to kick," Fred whispered to George. Just to be safe, so nobody broke anything, they'd added a connection between each piece of plastic, preventing anyone from falling when they slid into a base. They'd used Aguamenti to get water onto the slides, as they were called, making it more slippery.
"Alright, Lee, you first," said George. He sent the ball, and it moved and Lee missed it. He tried again, this time kicking it almost half the length of the Quidditch pitch. He jumped off his broom, ran onto the first slide, and slid, eating a Fainting Fancy on the first base. Fred put the antidote end in his mouth, then Lee slid onto the next base, and they continued the process. Dean was next. He kicked the ball a little further than Lee, and Lee quickly ran to home base, which was a pool kept in the air with magic, and jumped into it. Dean had kicked it far enough to go to home too, so he belly flopped into it, and when he got out of it and onto his broom, everyone saw that his whole belly was soaked.
"Okay, Gred, you're up," said Fred. "I refree on your turn, you refree on mine."
George flew his broom over to the spot he was going to kick the ball in, and he gathered his strength as a Beater and kicked as hard as he could. He missed and somersaulted on his broom.
"Strike!" Fred shouted. An hour later they were on the third inning, and it was Fred's turn to kick. His first kick, he did the same thing as George had.
"Strike one!" George yelled. Another kick, another strike. Last kick, and he got an out. Angelina was next. On her first kick, George shouted, "Home run!" So Angelina ran (or slid) to home base, careful not to slide off. On first base, she got a Puking Pastille, on second she got a Nosebleed Nougat, and on third she got a Fainting Fancy. Ron was up.
"Yeah, go Ickle Ronniekins!" shouted Fred.
"This is going to be so funny," George said to himself as he sent the ball at Ron. As he was now the Gryffindor Keeper, this gave him a chance to practice his skills. George sent the ball at him, and he missed. When George sent it the third time, Ron kicked it, sending it flying at Alicia Spinnet. When he got to the base, however, he was met with a surprise. There was a Nosebleed Nougat without the antidote end. Fred flew over to George.
"Where's the other end?" Ron asked as Fred slowed to a stop, hovering on George's right side.
"It's missing the antidote end?" Fred asked innocently.
"Where is it, George?"
"I'm Fred, not George," replied George, smiling.
"You'd think after being able to remember things for twelve years you would've recognized a difference," said Fred.
"No kidding," said George, nodding.
"Only jokin', I'm Fred," said Fred, laughing with his twin and the other players.
"Seriously, where's the other end?" repeated Ron.
"I don't know," said George as innocently as he could. "Just eat it, otherwise you can't go on."
"Fine," said Ron miserably, eating the Nosebleed Nougat.
Another hour later, the game was almost over. Ron had gone thirty minutes with a very, very bad bloody nose, because by then Fred had given him the antidote. Harry had almost broken his glasses twice, once by sliding onto first base and almost hitting his face on the Puking Pastille bucket and the second when he jumped into the pool at home base.
"Be careful, mate," Fred had told him the first time. "That bucket's full of people's lunch, so don't knock it over. It'll spill on everyone under the game."
"Don't go belly first, next time, Harry," George had told him the second time. "Don't want to break your glasses then have them fall and shatter beyond repair."
Once the game ended, Fred and George took everything down to the ground, then checked on the Puking Pastille bucket to see how long it took everyone who had participated to swallow the antidote end. It had been a fun day for both of them.