"My poor Dad," Fred sighed as he slumped in an arm chair.
"What happened now? Someone quit?" I asked as I looked up from the chess game James and I were playing on the floor.
"Worse. Apparently today is the anniversary of the first time he and Uncle Fred blew up a toilet."
"Why does he keep track of these things?" I asked as I my knight smashed one of James' pawns to dust.
"Well, it was their first real prank. Don't you guys remember yours?"
"I vaguely remember it having to do with replacing Malfoy's hair gel with Mayonnaise," I said as I grabbed a cookie out of the bag I had stolen from the kitchen.
"April 17th of my third year, and it wasn't Mayonnaise, it was pure lard," James corrected.
"My point exactly," Fred grinned triumphantly.
I just gawked at James.
I swear, only boys feel the dire need to remember things like that.
"Knight to A5," James chuckled, "And goodbye, Nikki's rook."
"Jerk," I yelled as I threw a cookie at him, "Well, if it's that important to your Dad, we must commemorate it."
"That and the fact that they're complete Hogwart's legends," James chuckled as he ate the cookie I had thrown at him, "What kind of trouble-makers would we be if we didn't honor their first prank?"
"I like where this is going," Fred giggled deviously.
"Alright, so, I stole dungbombs from Al the last weekend when we were in Hogsmeade," James whispered as Fred joined us on the floor.
"Dungbombs? James that is so First Year," I said with a roll of my eyes.
"Let me..." he threw a pillow at me, "Finish, woman. We are going to need them to add something extra to the toilet explosion. Because just blowing up the toilet? That's boring. But if we fill it with dungbombs and then blow it up? That would be amazing."
"James, sometimes you are bloody brilliant," I smirked as I chewed another cookie.
Yes, I talk with my mouth full. Get over it.
"I know I am," he grinned.
"Don't get cocky, I said sometimes, not always," I grimaced.
"Can we save the toilet seat?" Fred spoke up.
"Of course, mate. But just one thing- why?" James puzzled.
"I want to send it to Dad," he shrugged, "Show him people remember."
"And we can sign it too. Lord knows we'll probably be famous," James said proudly.
"Um, James?" I spoke up.
"Don't call me that," I growled as I smacked him, "And what I was going to say is you two already are famous. Well, pretty much."
"Dad's fame doesn't count. I want to earn mine," James retorted with a nod, "Don't you, Fred?"
"Not really. I'm good. I don't need all that glory and bollocks. I'm perfectly happy just being Fred Weasley II," he said with a tiny smile.
I knew that boy had some of his mother in there somewhere.
"Okay, so after lunch I'll go grab Grandad's cloak and the map and well make the shit explode. Quite literally," James laughed at his own pun.
Fred and I just rolled our eyes.
"Where is he?" Fred whined.
"He's always late to his own pranks, you should know that by now, Freddy-boy," I laughed as I leaned on the wall.
"He wasn't late to scold me about flirting with you."
"What's that? He did what?" I said astonished as I stood up straight.
"You didn't know?" Fred chuckled half-crazed.
"Apparently, if I try to pick you up again, he's going to steal your itching powder and pour it down my pants every day for the rest of the year."
"He'd better not touch my itching powder! Wait, What? Why?" I asked as I realized the full extent of the threat.
"You honestly don't know?" he laughed.
"Know what?!" I asked frantically.
"Never mind," he chortled, "You're bound to find out soon enough."
"Why do people keep telling me that?!" I screamed as I kicked the wall.
I don't recommend kicking stone walls. Or any wall for that matter. Because there's an extremely high probability that you will get more injured than said wall will. Like I did. I happen to know I broke at least three- if not all five- of my toes. Good thing they aren't relevant in Quidditch.
"OW DAMMIT!" I yelled as I hopped on one foot and clutched the other.
"Nikki. That was the stupidest thing I have ever seen you do," James chuckled as he rounded the corner, "And I've seen you do some pretty dumb things."
"Shuddup, you tosser," I grumbled.
"No one's coming, right James?" Fred asked worriedly.
"Fred, mate, it's a sunny Saturday in November, right after lunch nonetheless. Do you really think anyone's coming?"
"Guess not," Fred shrugged.
"Good answer," James smirked, "Now come on."
"She can't go in the there!" Fred shrieked.
"I have been in almost every one of the guys lavatories in the school, including this one. This is not my first bathroom prank, by far," I said pointedly.
"Right, I overreacted again, I know," he sighed.
"Will you two at least bring your argument in the bathroom? I want to finish this," James snapped.
I walked up to James and smacked him in the back of the head.
"OW. What the hell was that for?" He whined.
"I will argue where I please, thank you very much," I frowned as I walked into the bathroom, followed by a sighing James and a smirking Fred.
"Third stall in," James directed.
"Why the third stall?" Fred asked.
"Because, you twit, it's in the middle. The explosion will cover more territory," James huffed.
"OH. You are too good at this, James," Fred chuckled.
"There is no such thing as being too good at pranks, my dear cousin," James smirked.
"He's right you know, for once," I nodded with a grin.
"I'm always right," he grimaced as he dumped the bag of dungbombs into the toilet.
"Were you right when you said the pineapples would be worth it?"
"And what about shoving me in a broom closet, was that the right idea?"
"Hey! That was not my fault..."
"And what about your thinking letting male cats loose in Minnie's classroom was a good idea?"
"And what about the Myrtle thing? What did you say it was going to be? 'Immensely Epic', I believe your words were," I sneered.
"I thought it was," he said proudly.
"Even with the Howler?" I asked.
"Even with the Howler, it was completely worth it," He said as he glanced at me with an unreadable look.
"You guys did the cat thing?!" Fred laughed before I got the chance to question James' answer.
"Of course James did. And Colin the moronic Irish boob," I drawled.
"You helped!" James yelled.
"I held the damn door open, that hardly counts!" I yelled back.
"That was bloody brilliant," Fred giggled.
"What is it with you Gryffindor boys thinking it was brilliant?! Do none of you see how disturbing it was?! And how completely mental one would have to be to think of something like that?" I yelled as I threw an empty paper roll at Fred.
"See. Three to one, it was brilliant. Which means I was right once again," James smiled triumphantly.
"Guys, can you finish this out in the hall? I'm pretty sure those are going to blow soon," Fred said anxiously.
"Bloody hell, you're right, I charmed them for five minutes. Get out, hurry!" James rushed as he grabbed my hand and tugged me to the door.
"WAIT FOR ME!" Fred screamed as he scrambled to follow us.
We barely made it out of there when there was a boom and quite a few very gross-sounding splats. And quite a ferocious smell.
Seriously, I think it could have killed Hagrid.
"Oh my GOD!" I shrieked as I covered the bottom half of my face with my sleeve, "I think I'm gonna be sick!"
"Yeah, me too," James gagged as he covered his mouth.
"Let's get out of here guys, it smells rancid," Fred whined as he took off down the hall.
We didn't need convincing as we sped right past him.
"James, I swear to God you are a bloody moron," I grimaced as I scrubbed the dung covered floor.
"How were we supposed to retrieve the toilet seat if I didn't make it obvious it was us?!" He said defensively.
"This is so disgusting," Fred wretched from the other corner of the room.
I may love James to no end, but he is such an idiot sometimes. Because thanks to him, I was manually scrubbing crap off the floor. And I mean that literally.
He decided it would be ingenious to charm them so that when they blew up, it would splatter the names of whoever the culprits were on the wall.
Like I said. Idiot.
"God, it smells," James griped.
"Yes it does. It smells like fail," I growled as glared at him.
"Well at least I got the seat to send to Dad," Fred shrugged.
"I hate you two," I grumbled.
"You don't hate us," Fred stated, "Your just moody cause you're scrubbing up feces."
"Shut it, Weasley!" I yelled as I threw my dung-covered cloth at him, hitting him square in the face.
I swear the cloth fell off of his face in slow-motion. And the look of revulsion under it was enough to get James and I in hysterics. Thankfully we had already cleaned the bit of floor we were rolling on.
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