Fred and George and the Minute To Win It
Fred sighed impatiently as he squatted on his bedroom floor. It was completely uncluttered, too clean, he thought to himself. His and George's toys were still littering the living room downstairs. New toys, games and puzzles, everything imaginable, including the set of Chuddley Cannons action figures from Bill. They'd had a windfall of presents for their sixth birthday.
He blew a stray pillow feather off his finger and stared at his twin sitting opposite him, way on the other side of the room. George was unusually silent. Too silent for Fred's liking, and much too concentrated on the head-sized lollipop that lay in the middle of the room between them. It was an impressive one too, with twisted, spiralled colors of the rainbow and edible glitter dust. Thick as his two thumbs put together, he was sure it would take a whole week to eat it all up. The lollipop had been tied to one of their presents as a decoration, but there had been only one.
Who gives one lollipop to a set of twins on their birthday?
He twiddled his thumbs, tapped a quick rhythm on the floorboards, thought about humming a tune, but stopped himself, eyeing George's extreme look of concentration. No, better not hum.
Birds sang outside their window. The sun was bright. It had been a beautiful day for a party. The balloons were still tied to the picnic table, bobbing in happy yellows, shiny greens and blues that blended into the sky. In fact, he could be out there right now, except for George. And those toys, most of them still in their packaging, still lay untouched downstairs while little Ron and baby Ginny were taking naps.
He wanted to play, not sit here, staring at his brother on the nicest day ever. Not when they had so much stuff to take out of packaging and so many tiny pieces to scatter underneath the couches. The Chuddley Cannons action figures were calling his name, he could almost hear them whisper in the gust of wind coming from his window.
He fidgeted with the laces of his shoes and finally had enough of sitting still and being quiet. On their birthday of all days!
"Why are we doing this again?"
George's face broke into a triumphant grin as he slid across the floor and snatched up the lolipop. "I win! I win!" he shouted. "You spoke first, and it didn't even take a whole minute!"
Fred grumbled. He hated the Quiet Game.
He could be mad. He could make their dad force George to split the lollipop with him with one of those Muggle tools he always liked showing them, maybe something that was long, sharp and dangerous. But then he thought about how long it would take for their dad to choose something from the shed, and then he'd have to do something silly like wash the thing up or scrape the rust off. They were wasting precious nap time where they wouldn't have to share with Ron and Ginny.
It didn't matter who got the last sweet anymore. Their birthday cake leftovers would last for days and days, their mum had made such a big four-layered monster cake. She even said they'd have some for dessert after dinner tonight. That made Fred even less concerned. George could have the lollipop. It was his birthday, after all.
"Come on, George," he said, getting off the floor and tearing the bedroom door open. "Let's go play!"