Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any character, story element or plot item originally published in the Harry Potter books or movies that I may refer to in this story. I'm merely playing in the sandbox.
Author's note: Welcome back, dear reader, to another of my random ideas that I don't know what else to do with.
So, I've sat on this idea for a good while now but have not put it down except for a very snotty comment on one of my unfinished pieces. Perhaps we should look at this a bit deeper.
Fred laughed as another snowball leapt from his hand, guided by magic, and hurled with as much force as he could. It tracked as the Ravenclaw Firstie dodged, whirling around him to hit him hard in the face. "Gotcha!"
"Good one George."
"I'm Fred, you dolt. No one can hear us anyway."
"Oh, right."
They looked around. "Need to move." They said in unison.
"Think we should lighten up," Fred said. "Give them more of a chance?"
"Nah."
They chuckled as they shifted positions, abandoning the snow fort with a few surprises for anyone who might take it over.
"Hey, look," Fred hissed, pulling George down behind one bank.
George tipped his head to the side, then grinned. "Easy target.
Quirrel walked up from Hogsmeade. They could see him through the fence, then both looked at each other, chuckling as they split, each knowing the plan. Soon, a few students were poised to watch, some pretending to make snowmen, others just chatting.
Fred loved the audience. That'd be perfect, as long as they managed to keep this subtle. He glanced over to his twin, catching him mirroring his actions. They nodded, then began casting on the piles each had prepared. A dozen snowballs flung out from their feet, battering the Defense teacher. He stuttered as he tried to swat them away. Doesn't this guy know he's a wizard?
As he thought that, one flew out from the side, a member of the audience joining in the fun and knocking loose the turban. Quirrel jumped to catch it, but not in time to stop it unravelling, revealing a bald instructor and…
"What is that?" George's cry was barely audible over the screaming of the other students.
The face on the back of the man's head began to rage, cursing them verbally, but George was cursing back, hammering the man in the back with a Stunner. It didn't work.
"He's possessed! Hit him with everything you got!" Fred said, joining the rain of jinxes and hexes from the hillside. Other students joined in and Fred looked over to George. George never looked back, just pointed to the main entrance. Fred cast as he ran, spellfire merging in the light show.
As he ran in, telling the angry caretaker to shut up as he blew past him, he ran in to Snape. Great. "Professor, there's something wrong outside. We need help. Something's wrong with…"
"I'm sure, Weasley. Spelled a bucket or something to dump water on me?"
"No, sir," Fred ground out. I'm tempted now, fill it with random potions mixed together and see what you turn into. "Sir, it's Quirrel."
"Whatever you've done to the man, I don't care. Ten points from Gryffindor for bothering me."
The man turned but then spun backward. Fred's hand seemed not to be attached to him as he watched it grab the man by the forearm and spin him to face him. Despite the oddity of it, Fred pushed forward. "We know you read minds, you dingy old bat. Take a thousand points if you have to. Just look into my mind!"
Snape glared at him, then paled. "This is real."
"We need help."
"Take your hand off of Professor Snape, Mr. Weasley. That's enough!" McGonagall stalked up but paused at the look on Snape's face. "Severus…"
"I need to get the Headmaster." He spun to the side, jerking free from Fred's hand casting a ghostly doe from his wand. The spectral deer ran up the stairs in the direction of the classrooms. "I've sent for Filius. Quirrel is possessed by something."
"I'm sure it's just…"
"He let me see his memory. It's real." The black robed man paused only long enough to look in her eyes. "Go help the students."
Fred watched him run up the stairs, then leap off and fly up to the Headmaster's office. As he turned, McGonagall was speaking into a pendant that glowed pale blue. What is going on?
George was scrambling to think of nonoffensive curses that wouldn't harm in an area, trying to contain the man. As Fred passed out of sight, Quirrel started casting back. The casting was almost strangled as it was vocalized, as though the figure was fighting whatever possessed it, but still dangerous. George dodged a Cruciatus and debated a piercing curse. Am I going to have to really hurt him?
Soon, Flitwick was pouring spellfire down from the window of one of the towers, forcing the impacted man to defend. McGonagall joined the attack, running from the main entrance at a pace he didn't know was possible. Fred was at her heels.
After a moment, there were a dozen cracks and George almost dropped his wand at the sudden appearance of a series of gray clad figures surrounding the teacher. There was another series of spells and the figure was encased in a blue crystal structure, then they vanished.
"What happened?"
"I don't know…."
"Department of Mysteries, Misters Weasley. This is their purview."
"Are we in trouble?'
"Fred? Maybe. He assaulted Professor Snape."
George turned to face Fred and mouthed "Are you insane?"
"Knowing him as I do, though…I imagine you may have needed to grab him to get him to listen." McGonagall continued. "If only you weren't known for so many pranks."
"Yes, Professor." The pair acknowledged it in unison, though George knew neither would change their ways.
"What happened?"
"We threw some snowballs at him, Professor. It knocked his turban off."
"Five points to Gryffindor, boys. I never though one of your pranks may have saved the school from something horrible."
"Will he be okay?"
"I don't know."
A/N: I've thought about this since I completed the first book. The Weasley twins were the first to visibly attack Voldemort/Quirrel except for Fluffy. At this point, I imagine that the whole prophecy is either negated or that the random student may be Harry? Who knows. Can you imagine the Dark Lord being felled by a snowball?