(We interrupt your scheduled broadcast because today is an important day in the cosmos. Many entities don't care about this day, but for the select few we tend to get a little creative around the office. As time in itself is a little weird in our jobs, as several time-lines are light years ahead or decades behind, days such as these rarely come by. It just so happens that April 1st, 2,836 is one of those days where not one, but sixty-nine hundred thousand four hundred and twenty universes fall on the same exact day. Corporate understand that we have massive destructive power over all things, and so this very fantastic day is 'where everything goes.' Rules are disabled for the entire day. No take backs. The Gordon Ramsey office declared war on the Chuck Norris section, resulting in Ragnarok in fifteen different stages in the break room. Personally, the giant snake-like Æsir that is hiding in the company fridge is a little frightening, but please, nobody tell Loki this. He, and his many versions of himself, easily take offense for his children. Quite a lot of areas are on fire, like the coke product machine. In fact, Hell has both frozen and is suffering a heat wave. Somebody in the Maya section (the universes when the Spaniards didn't wipe their entire civilizations out) let out the Quetzalcoatl and you can't actually prepare for when a winged serpent takes your morning coffee.

Everything is, quite literally, a madhouse. Somebody created and let loose a clown. The Harry Potter section has blocked the door with the filing cabinets, and the lights have been cut three hours ago. We tried to signal peace, but unfortunately, Satan and his goons came in and took our water cooler. (We'll get it back later. But, uh. We'll have to sanitize it a lot afterward.) Greg over in the corner is hyperventilating, his universe needs constant supervision because the Master-of-Death asshole decided to kill Grindelwald and adopt Tom Riddle. If he doesn't do his job then it could cause the collapse of Joann's universe, and he's intimidated by her eldritch demon powers. Joann, with her many horns and eyes, is a rather scary individual. Mary, the HR representative, is rationing out food in hopes that we could survive until the 1st of April is over. However, since time is still at best the weirdest, we don't actually know how long this day will be. And until then, Harriet Potter in 1991 will be postponed and to try to pass time, the general entity and narrator of this particular tale will be focusing on two special boys who were born on a chaotic day just like this one. After all, it isn't like we don't have anything else to do. We hope that the water won't be cut. Otherwise, we might have to go out and forge around.)

This is how things came to be:

Molly Weasley nee Prewett wanted a large family. She has always dreamed of having a large family since she was a small girl. She grew up with her two brothers, Gideon and Fabian. They always teased her and played jokes on her, and as the youngest, she was also generally a spoilt child. Unfortunately, Molly didn't grow up from her mindset and generally thought that the world should be handed to her on a platter. Gideon and Fabian, although a few years older than her, didn't have much life to live. They were destined to die young, but in the few years out of Hogwarts, they showed their parents how responsible they were.

Molly- to put it lightly- was horrid in comparison. We will not get into details about how she acted when she was younger, but she did some very bad things to both her parents and her brothers to the point where they disowned her. Her parents were already fairly old, and the stress of having to outcast their youngest child caused their health to decline. They soon passed away, and the war began to fester.

Molly met Arthur Weasley. They had a whirlwind romance, and within six weeks of knowing each other, got engaged. Molly was still selfish in a sense, but Arthur still loved the woman. Another few months past and Molly found herself pregnant for the first time and they quickly moved up the ceremony. One shotgun wedding later, Molly Weasley started her long-awaited dream of having a large family. She grew up. Being a mother does that. Some of her old personality was gone, as Molly looked back and acknowledged that what she thought then was childish. She had responsibilities, a child to look after, a small bent house to take care of, and a husband to love.

But it does have to be said that people are not perfect. And Molly was still bitter over a few things from her past. How her family kicked her out. From living a rich lifestyle that was abruptly taken away from her. Arthur took care of her the best he could, but it still wasn't enough. But over the years, as Molly had more children and Arthur made some questionable financial decisions that the dissatisfaction resurfaced. It went from 'where were her precious jewels that she should be wearing?' to 'when will we have the funds to fix the roof from leaking.' Molly wanted more. More than just a hovel with her many children. More than worrying about what they would do when they started school, and all the fees that would come with it. More than staying up at night, wondering what happened. How did this happen to her? Being dirt poor wasn't her dream when she was a girl. (The answer to that particular question was when she tried to steal her brother's inheritances and to throw them out of their family. She set up her brothers with false crimes, but luckily they had alibis and it was found out that she had been the one to cause the grief. Molly was then subsequently disowned and was told never to contact them again.)

But please, do not get this wrong. Molly Weasley was a nice lady. She was caring and thoughtful, she loved to knit and she raised her children to the best of her ability. They came out somewhat okay, and Molly was a wonderful wife to Arthur. But like always, sometimes good people make bad choices. And sometimes they stick to those choices, refusing to see the consequences of their actions. And so by the time Molly had her youngest son, she had started to walk down a dangerous path that would inevitably ruin her life.

(We will talk about this at a later point in time. As this is a part of Harriet's tale. We are, however, not going into that particular story. We will save that for when it will become relevant. An update on the April 1st thing- water has not been cut off yet. However, we have heard several motorcycles driving past our office doors, and Greg has now begun to cry. Joann is bench pressing a few interns to entertain herself. We, in the small Harriet department, are suitably impressed with her endurance. It has only been a few hours since the last time we checked in, but we have been relatively untouched by the madness in the other departments. We can only hope that April 1st will soon end, it feels like it's been a few weeks since it started by now.)

When Molly Weasley was pregnant for the fourth time, everything was considered normal. Whenever she would have check-ins, the mediwitches always gave her a glowing bill of health. By now Molly was pretty much an expert when it came to being pregnant. It was soon again revealed to be yet another boy, and Molly and Arthur were happy. Yet another member of their family was coming, and they were joyful to have another child. It was when Molly was in her seventh month, at her annual checkup, when they found out that not only was she having one child, but two. It was unexpected to find out so late in her pregnancy, but it wasn't unwelcome. If anything Arthur was more excited than Molly, throwing out so many different names that they could call their boys.

It was also around then that Molly had found out that her older brothers had been killed. The war was in full swing at this point, and so the Weasley family was just trying to keep their heads low. Arthur, after hearing about her brother's deaths, mentioned that perhaps they should name their children after them. They were, after all, twins. Molly reluctantly agreed, but on the condition that their names would start with the same letters, rather than the Fabian and Gideon. Fred and George were selected, and Molly had two wonderful baby boys with shocking tuffs of red hair.

Three months after hearing about her brother's deaths, and having her twin sons, Molly left her children with a neighbor and went to Gringotts. She quickly found out that even though she was the surviving sibling of her brothers, they had specified in their wills that she was not to take the Prewett title nor fortune. She threw a hissy fit, and hastily left with a bitter taste in her mouth. It was, perhaps at this point in her life that she realized that she was never going to have the life of luxury that she used to have. And she still craved to have it-

(Oh gods. Oh, gods, they have found us. We have to go we have to-

A camera on a laptop is turned on, showing the panicked face of a non-binary individual who is panting. Behind them is what looks like absolute chaos. Filing cabinets were blown across the floor, the paperwork inside of them was on fire in various colors. A spider-faced man is throwing himself out of a window while a smoky black monstrous being in a green dress is lifting a motorcycle above their heads. The non-binary glances behind them, and gasps and the smoke clears and begins to run towards an unknown destination. The camera shakes from the motion. From behind them, stepping out of the smoke is a clown. It honks a horn menacingly.

A knight with a lance on a motorcycle rides into the room. It has a cape that looks like it is from a curtain with the words, 'fuck the marvel industry' spray painted on it. The knight gestures to the clown, who nods. At this point, the camera has turned from the scene as the non-binary Entity finally leaves the room. Their face was flush, their thick-framed glasses were nearly falling off.

The hallway that appeared behind them seemed like a normal office. With large windows showing a clear orange sky, and fake plants in every corner. However, it didn't stay normal as the wall burst open and in a cloud of white dust and chunks of drywall everywhere. Tentacles began to pour out of the wall, curling around everything and throwing the plants out of the windows, shattering the glass.

"Oh my gods," the non-binary being whispered as they still booked it down the hallway, "they released the Kraken."

Flustered, they ducked into a small room and closed the door behind them. When the camera adjusted to the lack of light, it was shown that they were in a cleaning closet. The bottles behind the Entity said in bright packaging; 'bathroom cleaner- made to take care of those tough intergalactic stains right out!' and 'Carpet stain from space? Clorox Bleach will save it!'

"For Lady Gaga!" A deep robotic voice outside of the room boomed, and there was a small explosion. The bottles behind the Entity shuddered with the shock wave, but the room remained intact. The camera only showed the face of the Entity, but the sounds from outside of the room were horrific. There were wet slappy noises (from presumably the Kraken) a few screams of general agony, and at one point, a honking noise from a clown. Until, at last, it seemed like things were dying down.

… let's continue shall we?)

This is how things turned out:

There was only suppose to be one of them. That was the message that they got when they were little. Two boys, two little children, were told that one of them should not have existed. Perhaps if they had been told in a gentler way, or if it came up when they were older, it might not have affected them as much. But in the end, the two boys were everything to each other. They couldn't have imagined a life without the other. If one began to cry- the other would soon follow. It was the same when one began to laugh, there were two giggling boys. They did everything together as they grew up. From crawling to walking and finally when their babbling turned into actual words. They did it together.

And to know that one of them, whichever one it was, wasn't supposed to exist, was impossible for their minds to compute. It was difficult to explain it to somebody why- but they were together. They always supposed to be together, there was no way that they could be separated. Perhaps magic was the only true way to explain this- they shared a soul. Twins in the magical world were a rare thing, especially within a pureblood family, and they shared abilities and magical affinities. Their magic was formed together when they were babes, and thus Fred and George Weasley had strange and particular magical skills. Although identical, they were equally not the same magically. Magic did strange things when there were two relatively young sources growing around each other.

Fred was the first of the two be affected. They were four and a half at the time. Their mum had a new baby a few months ago, and for a long time, they were sort of left alone. Little Ginny took their mum away a lot. They didn't mind it. They weren't ever alone because they had each other. It was just like how it was when Ronny was born, but they were a little too young to remember that clearly. George was playing with Fred by passing a floating ball between them (Bill's gift to them for their fourth birthday. It was brilliant in their minds) and he was the first one to feel something was wrong. Fred froze up. George knew something was off, he didn't know what. Fred was his best friend. His brother. They were like the same person. And yet-

"Fred?" George called out in a hushed whisper. His brother didn't even move. George moved towards his brother and grabbed his arm. It was his touch that shocked Fred into sucking a deep breath, his body shuddering. "Fred?" George's voice grew high in concern. "What happened?"

"I dunno " Fred whispered. His face was pale, making his freckles stand out on his face sharply.

"I'll go get mum." George moved towards the door when Fred grabbed his brother's hand and held it tight.

"Don't leave me," Fred said with tears welling up in his eyes. "Please?"

"Okay." George agreed without hesitation. "I won't."

Fred felt fine later on, and as four-year-olds, they simply forgot about it. Until it happened again a few months later. And again, nearly half a year after that. Fred didn't know how to explain it. George was simply there, watching helplessly as his brother would freeze up and then cry afterward. It was scary. For both of them. Fred wanted his brother to be with him, and George never went for help because he didn't know how long Fred would be frozen for. And afterward, when everything was fine again, there didn't seem to be a need for a parent to be involved. They happened so infrequently and sparsely that it never really came up. Fred said he was fine afterward, if a bit dizzy, so George took him at his word and never mentioned it to their mum.

This continued through their youth. When they began their mischief and started to stuff Percy's socks with chicken dung it, Fred would freeze up. They would later spend the rest of their day in their room, even when their mum was yelling at them to clean up their mess. Percy wasn't happy that day, but he was smart enough that he left Fred alone after taking a look at him. When Percy asked why Fred wasn't looking too good, George explained that sometimes Fred got bad headaches. And the Weasley clan accepted that answer and moved on. Mum would give Fred some ointment that he despised and he'd feel a tad bit better after. George was the only one who really knew the extent of Fred's condition. They didn't know why. It was a mystery to both of them.

The one time somebody else saw Fred freeze up was Ronnikins. They were seven, and they certainly acted as malicious as seven-year-olds do. They had already replaced Charlie's books with their mum romance novels when he came home for the Hols. And Percy was being a git that one day so they left him a nice gnome in his bed. Ginny was being a terror to be around, yelling and screaming and generally throwing a tantrum, so they magicked her socks to be mittens. Their mum was certainly puzzled as to why their four-year-old sister had no socks and an abundance of mittens, but the prank served its purpose. Ginny grew to love mittens, and for a while, she always had to have them on. Much to their parent's dismay. But it certainly lessened the tears.

But the greatest offense to both of them when Fred was helping George clean out the fireplace by scrubbing it and stiffening suddenly. Ron was stuffing his mouth like usual at the kitchen table, a mouthful of food still in his maw when he spoke, spitting food everywhere. "Wha's wrong w'th 'im?"

"Nothing." George quickly said, placing his hand on his brother. Fred was still out of it, staring off into nothing while not moving.

"It doesn't look like nuthin." Ron had thankfully swallowed before speaking again. "He looks stupid."

"Shut up Ron." George snapped. "Nobody asked you."

"You can't say that to me," Ron whined in his ridiculously high voice. "I'll tell mum."

"You tell mum and I'll go tell Percy that you were the one who tore his favourite book." George countered.

"But you can't do that!" Ron's voice grew three octaves higher. At that point, Fred took in a sharp gasp and shuddered, slumping against his brother. "Look at that. You look so stupid when you're acting like a girl, Fred."

George, in a fit of rage, sent his younger brother a scathing look. "Shut up Ron." He repeated, "nobody asked you." And he grabbed Fred who was shaking again, tears welling up in his eyes, and practically fled with his twin leaning his weight on him.

"I'll tell mum!" Ron yelled after them, but George didn't reply. His attention was focused on his brother, who was beginning to cry.

"Don't listen to him, Fred," George whispered once they were up in their room. "He's just being an idiot."

Fred sniffled a lot and didn't answer. George didn't push him to, and they spend the day within arms reach of each other. Comforting each other simply by being close to the other twin.

That night they magicked Ron's teddy bear into a spider. They got into a huge load of trouble, but it was worth it. Even grounded and having to de-gnome the garden wasn't terrible. For George, it was an easy price to pay. If he saw Fred smiling again then it was all worth it.

It was when they were nearing the age nine did Fred start to speak about it. George never asked. He never spoke about it unless Fred wanted to. They were in it together, and Fred was the one who was being affected the most. So George let him deal with whatever he was thinking alone until Fred wanted to talk.

It was a few weeks after their most recent one. They were coming quicker, to George's dismay. Instead of once every three or so months, they were appearing every six weeks. Fred was getting paler, and he started to eat less at breakfast. George was worried, but he tried to act normal for Fred's sake.

It was a tough night that Fred began to whisper about the dreams. On troubling days, they would share a bed. Being closer stopped the tremors in Fred's hands, and it made George less scared when he could feel his brother's heartbeat.

"There is a big lake," Fred says one night. George was almost asleep but blinked himself awake when Fred began to whisper. "It's dark. And a twisted tree is sitting on a hill. But I know I can't go near it. There is a rat. It's saying things- asking another to forgive them. I don't know how it ends- I never do. But I know that there is a wolf. And the moon is big. It's really big in the sky. A woman laughs. I don't know how it ends."

George doesn't speak. He doesn't move, but he grips his brother's hand and squeezes. Fred doesn't speak for a while again, taking in deep breaths and then continues.

"I see a kid. I don't know who he is. But somebody is yelling at him to do magic. He can't. They say that there was a possibility that since he survived something that it ate up all his magic, and that he was a squib. I saw an older man grab him and hold him out a window in a tall building, and let go. He bounces a bit, and the people were happy but they still couldn't get him to do a lot of magic. They say that he's just weak now. He cries a lot in his room. He was really scared when they dropped him, and he still doesn't know how he survived."

"That's messed up," George whispers. "Who does that to kids?"

"Yeah." Fred agrees. "I could almost feel his emotions. I was so scared for him when I saw him fall."

"Is…" George hesitated afraid to ask a question. He was glad he wasn't facing his brother, staring at the wall in the dark. "Is everything you see awful?"

"Not always," Fred replied. "I see us. We're in Hogwarts. We're older, probably in our second year or so. I look better than you, so all the girls are coming up to me-"

George jammed his elbow back and hits Fred who muffled his laughter. "Come'on Freddy," George grumbled. "We look the same. And if anything, I'm the better looking one."

"How come?"

"I brush my hair in the morning, you dimwit."

Fred laughed again, pressing his mouth against his brother's back. "Alright, you have a point there." They both giggled in the dark, the mood lightened. George finally shuffled around until he was facing his brother, his absolute best friend. Fred looked more relaxed than he had in ages.

"You can always tell me things, Freddy." George said, "I won't ever judge you."

"It's not always that," Fred said, averting his eyes. "I don't want to scare you. Sometimes I see things that..." He trailed off.

"Fred." George stated and squeezed his brother's hand. "I won't be scared. I'll never be scared of the things you tell me. Not if you're here with me."

Fred met his eyes. "Promise?"

"Promise."

(April 1st will not end. Whatever gods and higher beings (like management) decided that this day will be forever drawn out. The narrator and general entity of this story are currently contemplating on if they should eat cleaning supplies. The plus side is that hopefully, they'd pass out and when they woke up hopefully this hell day would be over. However, on the downside, they are immortal and if they tried to commit suicide they have to talk to HR and go to several mental health classes (if they had to go to another class where Cleopatra told them that her biggest regret was killing herself over her husband then this Entity would rather eat Cerberus food). That and cleaning supplies are not very tasty.

(That also being said, if you are on a human planet with vulnerable organs in your body, you should definitely not consume cleaning supplies. They are extremely harmful and will cause you to actually perish. The whole popularising Tide Pod thing was actually Satan's idea, and those should not be followed.)

The Entity almost left the safe little cleaning closet once, but they heard somebody shout 'yeet' on the other side of the door and something splatter on the ground. Something that looked like blood pooled under the door, so they sat back down with their computer and continued to survey and try their best at managing their universes. The office out there was clearly still too chaotic to be out and about. Damn, they hoped that they got paid today. They had a cat at home and they needed to feed the terrifying beast before it consumed their sofa again.

Their stomach grumbled, and the being longingly looked that the lemon flavored brain bleach that was sitting innocently on the shelf. It wouldn't work on them, it was mostly there for the random space travelers that accidentally hopped into their dimension. But it at least looked friendly enough to consume. It even had a little cartoon hero on the side. 'It's heroic to forget about everything!'

'I wish I could' the being thought and then turned back to the story, the unforgettable memories of this day already haunting them. They could never forget seeing Greg tossing himself out the window while Joann took the hit and stayed behind. At least Mary, the HR representative, got accidentally killed. She didn't have to see the horrors coming from outside. She'd revive herself the next day and work on getting things back to normal. The Entity vaguely wondered what the other two were doing right now, before getting back to work.

(Greg was fighting off a hoard of goblin creatures that the Inca's had summoned from a premortal realm. Joann was in the witches lounge, smoking a cigar and sipping wine while also getting her nails done. The witches were not to be messed with, and Joann was a favorite demon to summon. Mary actually faked her death and took the rest of the day off. Lucky bitch. She knew what she was avoiding.))

George's power manifests itself in a different way. It wasn't as nerve-wracking as Fred's, nor obvious. It was simple things. It wasn't until they were at Hogwarts, already sorted into Gryffindor, and gone through the first week of classes that George realized that it wasn't normal for kids to do wandless magic. He probably should have known earlier in his life, but to be honest, the twins mostly kept to themselves. They weren't around when Ginny or Ron complained about being unable to do magic. Or when Percy lost his wand for three days and couldn't go to his classes without it.

Magic was common in their house. Their mum always did incantations silently, they almost never heard her speak the magic words that would cause her knitting to do its job for her. Da only did magic if it meant he got out of chores faster so that he could go into the shed and work on the muggle things. And so the answer came to George through an abrupt way. Professor McGonagall asked them to transform a matchstick to a needle and George did it without thinking.

"Mr. Weasley." The older woman came up to the twin's shared desk. "I haven't seen your wand out yet. Why aren't you practicing." Then she looked down and picked up the needle. "Did you do this?" She stared George down, her tone accusing.

"Uh, no ma'am," Fred spoke up, clearly sensing his brother's discomfort. "That was me." He had at least his wand out. "I thought it'd be fun to do his first."

"Ten points to Gryffindor for being the first to turn their match stick to a needle, Mr. Weasley." Professor McGonagall spoke. Then she looked at George. "I suggest you do your own work, Mr. Weasley, and not depend on your brother to do it for you."

"Yes Professor," George muttered, looking down.

The two boys looked at each other before returning to the lesson. They knew better than to speak about it now. But it was obvious now that they really looked for it. Kids their age struggled with magic. They weren't good at transforming things into others, not unless they were older. And all of them had used their wands to do it. They waited until after dinner and they were up in George's bed with the curtains drawn for them to whisper about it.

"I never thought it was weird," George said. "I could just do things and they'd happen."

"Neither did I." Fred leaned up against his brother. "But then again, I guess it was sort of obvious. Percy could never figure out how we got his socks to dance every time he put them on."

"Yeah but that's Percy. We almost never listen to him." George scoffed. "I can't believe mom didn't notice."

"Ginny and Ron have taken a lot of her time." Fred shrugged. "That's always how it's been."

"Yeah, but mum should've noticed. At least when I turn Ronnikin's teddy bear into a spider." George grumbled.

"Mum never notices us unless we do something wrong." Fred mused. "It's always sort of been like that. Percy has been more of a mum than Mum."

"Percy likes to boss us around," George mumbled, then there was a long silence. Both took comfort by being near the other. The stress of going to a new school and a new environment made them both cling to each other. At least, more than what they usually did. They both sat there, contemplating when George turned to Fred. "At least we're both a little weird."

"What?" Fred asked.

"Well, I can wave my hand and make bespell anything. Which is super cool, because we can get away with so much stuff with that. Could you imagine turning Filch's robes neon yellow right in front of him? It couldn't have been us because we didn't have our wands out or anything." George waved his hands in the air to elaborate. Fred chuckled.

"Ohh yes. What if you replaced Snape's cup of tea with hot sauce." Fred added on. "Or what if used the dungbombs that Bill got us and cause them to explode when we weren't even in the castle. They couldn't blame us. We'd have alibis."

"Could you imagine?" George gave his brother a fond smile. "We'd be the prank kings of the school! Nobody would know how we'd did it!"

"That would be bloody wicked." Fred agreed. "We'd be unstoppable."

Their conversation lapsed once again. It a comfortable silence. Sometimes it was better not to speak. As long as they had each other then it wasn't awful. With the curtains shut they couldn't hear anybody else in their room shuffling about or talking. It as nice, and peaceful. To be together.

Then Fred spoke. "I had a dream again."

"What? When?" George looked over at his brother. "I don't remember one since the last time. A few weeks ago."

"Last night. I was actually asleep and the next thing I know is that I'm struggling to breathe and wide awake." Fred shrugged. "It wasn't that big of a deal. I'm getting used to them happening now."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You were tired and it was almost time to wake up anyways." Fred nonchalantly spoke. "It didn't seem worth it at the time."

George clearly didn't like that answer. But he didn't push his brother. "Okay, if you ever need me… I'm there." He said.

"It was about us." Fred smiled. "We were older. And super cool."

"Oh yeah?" George shuffled closer to his brother. "Give me the details."

"We could make anybody laugh. And I saw that we dumped a bucket of slime on Filch. He was super mad at us but nobody could prove anything." Fred said with a smile. "And there was a black notebook. I dunno why but we were writing in it. And it was funny, I remember both of us writing in it a lot."

"A notebook?" George seemed skeptical. "How is that funny?"

"I dunno." Fred shrugged. "But it was cool enough that I dreamed us fighting over it a few times."

"Fighting?" George asked surprised.

"I know, right? We never fight." Fred chuckled.

"Never. I'd never fight with you, Fred." George swore. "Not for a silly notebook."

"Same." Fred held out his hand with his pinky extended. "Promise?"

"I promise." George curled his finger around his brother's.

(The battery to the laptop is dying. It has been for a while. The Entity takes another swig of brain bleach and watches miserably as their laptop begins to shut down. The battery was supposed to last for weeks, the packaging for it said that it had a quantum built battery installed that would make it's life last longer than any other computer. However, the being had slowly watched as the bar life slowly begun to decrease.

They couldn't tell anymore if it's because they bought the wrong type of computer, or if they had been in this damned closet for too long. They stared at the tiles on the floor absentmindedly. They had counted them ages ago. Fourteen thousand and sixteen tiles. At around day four in the cleaning closet, some sort of pink ooze started to come from under the door and melted the shelves. Luckily the Entity only had to sit further away from the door in order not to get dissolved themselves.

At around day six the Entity had resorted to solitaire. They hadn't known that there were so many rules and so many different types of games. But it was the only game installed beside Minecraft, and they would rather gargle flaming hot Cheetos than get sucked into playing that. The internet was down, has been since the lights were cut. And so they became an expert at solitaire. At least they felt like they were an expert. They played it for so long. They figured out the rules without any instructions too.

Somebody screeched outside. Bullets were fired. "We can't stop him!" Somebody shouted. "He's too strong!"

"Damn him!" Another person cursed right outside the Entity's cleaning closet.

"Scrappy-Doo is coming! Everybody duck!" There was a whistling noise and then a huge explosion rocked the room and it's remaining unmelted shelves. The Entity didn't bother to look up, those noises were so common to their ears now that it barely registered on their radar.

"No! Dad!" Somebody cried.

"I'm sorry son… I've been hit." They coughed weakly, "I'm sorry I was never able to teach you everything."

"No Dad! Don't go!"

"I'm sorry, son. I wish… I could have spilled that tea on Marrisa in accounting. She doesn't deserve the Hercules account."

"Dad! Noooo!"

The Entity took another swig of brain bleach. Completely ignoring the traumatic death of somebody outside their closet. The sobs from outside were tuned out as the Entity poked at a few keys on the computer. It lagged, and a window popped up. 'Warning: Battery Low. 0.1 percent.' And as soon as it did, the screen flickered and shut off. The Entity let loose a long sigh and stared at the dark screen. When will this day end? Was this punishment for whatever crimes that they had committed? Yeah, they knew that Mark in the audit department ate Margeries yogurt. Was this management's way of making their displeasure known?

'Oh Gods, ' they thought, 'when will this day be over?' They slumped against the wall, accepting the inevitable. This day was never going to end. It will not. It could not. And they will spend the rest of their immortal existence in this closet for the rest of time. They were defeated. They were going to lie here forever and slowly be driven into madness.

They close their eyes and take a final drink of brain bleach. To their utter disappointment, the bottle was empty. They tossed it into the pink ooze side of the room letting it sizzle and melt away. It was symbolic. The container was dissolving just like their hopes and dreams.

They laid in the dark. Probably for only a few minutes but it felt like an eternity. And then there was a small ding and the Big Boss From Above's voice came onto the intercom.

"Hello everybody. It is now April 2nd, and that means everything has to be put back into its original spot. That means that the clown does have to be put down, we will not be offering him a janitorial position like last time. We all know the balloon animal incident and HR has informed me that we will not be taking a chance like that again." There was a pause, and the intercom crackled. "Also floors 76 and 143 are melted. So those who offices are there, please be careful. Just avoid the acid pits and I'm sure you'll be fine. As for the rest of the mess, our janitorial support team will be by shortly to take care of it."

It was… over? The Entity sat up, staring at the ceiling. It was over! This hell day was done! They grabbed their laptop and stumbled out of the closet. The hallway looked like it had gotten wrecked. Deep gouges were taken out of the walls and floor. Being of various types were all getting up from their positions from where they fell. They all looked shell shocked and worse off than the Entity, one guy had an eye patch. The Entity was pretty sure that was new. They stumbled back to where the Harry Potter department was supposed to be. Liquid (they hoped it to be water) was up to their ankles as they stumbled through the mess and found their desk and dropped their laptop onto it. Their desk looked like it was gnawed on, but was it was still standing.

Shell shocked and tired, the Entity plugged back in the laptop and reluctantly began to work once again once it booted up. Closing solitaire with a sigh.)

This is how it ends:

One of them should not have existed.

Two brothers whos magic was twisted up in them when they were born. Equal in each other eyes, inseparable by the world. They stuck to each other through the thick and thin, and couldn't imagine life without the other. They were deeply grateful that they had each other.

And if one had the ability to see snippets of the future and the past... well. They kept that to themselves. And if the other had the strange ability of wandless magic… it wouldn't hurt to keep it a secret. They were both different. But only to themselves. The rest of the world simply saw two identical brothers, and they were fine with that. It felt more like a shield to protect them. If they only thought that they were identical in every way then it would protect them from judging them. From hurting them.

And if Fred had seen a girl with freckles on her shoulders, a mischievous smile on her obscured face, and felt a deep sense of adoration… he didn't tell his brother. Sometimes, it's good to keep a secret.