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Disclaimer: This fan fiction was based on the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership on any character created by J.K. Rowling, and no money is collected from this story. This is one way I show appreciation to J.K. Rowling's works. Other names or places on this story are fictional. Any similarity to actual name is purely coincidental.




Chapter 19: Mischief Makers

At the Weasley twin's room, Fred and George were both sitting on the floor discarding parchment after parchment. The visiting twins were selecting their next prank. Their second prank on Harry was easy. He didn't even booby-trap his own room against uninvited guests. They weren't disappointed with him though. Harry adapted fast if what happened to Neville and Ron were an indication of his prowess. To the twins, Harry was proving himself a worthy opponent.

"I like this one better. It has a sense of panache." Fred showed George one of the earlier parchments. It's about a song and dance routine of a strip-teaser kind.

"Panache, my foot... Loud and bold have effectively worked for us before. I say we do this one next," George showed his twin their newer joke. It's a creeping slime. If splattered on a victim's clothes, it would rapidly spread and harmlessly explode leaving the person with only his undergarments.

The twins looked at each other, both holding a parchment on their hand. Then, as one, they both dropped the parchments. They had a feeling the jokes wouldn't work. Grimmauld Place was just too small a house. And, everyone already knew their reputation.

"Oh, what's the use?" Fred complained sulkily.

"We need something fresh," George said ponderingly.


Unknown to the twins, Ron and Neville were standing outside their bedroom door. They have been knocking on the door for a few minutes. When it became obvious no one's going to answer, they boldly entered the room. Ron and Neville saw the twins flipping through parchments and silently consulting with each other.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked curiosly. The twins didn't answer. They were engrossed with looking at the parchments and talking to each other. Ron felt ignored. So, he went down on his knees and inserted his face between the twins. He saw parchments full of prank ideas. The twins, however, yelled and jumped to their feet.

"How did you get in here?" George asked at once, surprised.

"The door wasn't locked," Ron answered casually. He lazily stood up holding one of the parchments.

"We're slipping," Fred said good-naturedly. He moved closer to Ron and grabbed the parchment from his hand. "It's a good thing it's only ickle Ronniekins."

"Don't forget Nevie Pooh," George added, chuckling. He couldn't understand how Neville could stand being called Nevie Pooh by his girlfriend. He grabbed both shoulders of the two intruders and led them to the door. "We're happy to chat with you. But, as you can see, we are in a middle of a very important business meeting."

Ron suddenly twisted his body and escaped from George's firm grip on his shoulder. The three stopped near the door. "Are you planning another prank on Evans? The one earlier was brilliant. The prat looked hilarious."

"I'm glad you approved, Ron." George reached out with his left hand and opened the door. "But, we really have no time to chat. So, why don't you amuse yourselves in your own room?" Holding the door wide open, he swept his right hand in a graceful gesture of showing them out.

Neville looked thoughtfully from Fred to George. Then, he smiled amiably. "Sorry to bother you, Fred, George. Come on, Ron. I guess they don't want to know all the pranks Evans has planned." Neville turned to walk out the door. Ron was confused. But, he followed nonetheless.

George suddenly shut the door in their face and stood in front of it. "Perhaps, we are being a bit hasty," he said in a much friendlier voice. He wrapped his arms around their shoulders and led them further in the room.

Fred secretively took out his wand and locked the door to avoid anymore uninvited guests. "You know you two can always pay us a visit anytime you like. Isn't that right George?" He joined his twin and they stood facing Neville and Ron. They had a broad smile on their faces.

Neville crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the twins with a smug smile on his face. He got them. He knew the very mention of Evans' pranks would get their attention. From the amount of parchments strewn around the floor, they were getting worried. Granted Evans had no way of pranking them while they were in their shop. But, they still visited number twelve Grimmauld Place once in a while. Evans had plenty of time to prepare his pranks for them.

"I'll make you a deal. You give us the antidote to remove this ink, and we'll give you the book Evans is using for his pranks." Neville saw the twins looked at each other. It always amazed him how the twins could look at each other and knew one another's thoughts. "Well, do we have a deal?"

"We really like to help you, Neville, old chum," Fred started.

"But, we really don't have any antidote for that ink," George finished.

"It will really take two days," Fred explained.

"But, not to worry, your looks really suit you well, don't they Fred?" George pointed out cheerfully.

"Yes, they do, indeed. I must say you two never look better," Fred added admiringly.

"Cut it you, two. Just give us the antidote, and we'll be out of your hair," Ron was beginning to get annoyed. Instead of helping their own brother and friend, they're making fun of them.


There was a flash of flames. A Phoenix song suddenly surrounded them and filled their hearts with gladness. They all looked up and saw Fawkes hovering in the middle of the room. The Phoenix, then, flew on top of Fred and George's head and pecked them repeatedly. And just as the way he appeared, Fawkes vanished in a fiery display of flames.

"Stupid bird. Came here just to peck us in the head. I told you not to transfigure his perch into an owl-size cage," George complained grumpily, still the rubbing his smarting head.

"How would I know he would return to full size overnight? But, never mind that, dear brother. Look!" Fred pointed at something on top of his bed while his other hand soothed his throbbing head.

Indeed, Fawkes had left them something. George, still rubbing his head, walked near the bed. It was a letter. He slowly picked it up and looked at who it was addressed to. It bore his and Fred's name in their mother's handwriting. "The letter's from mum," he said aloud. "Hey, Fred, get over here. This letter is for you too."

George quickly broke the seal and opened the letter. Fred, who stood at George's side, reached out and held it steady so he could read it too. They had a confuse look on their faces as they read the letter.

"Take me out to the Quidditch match," sang George hesitantly, and then stopped. He had no idea why he sang the words.

"Take me out with the House," sang Fred, picking up where George left off. They briefly looked at each other pleasantly surprise.

"Buy me some butterbeers and chocolate frogs." They sang together and continued singing. Not only did they sing heartily, they also put their arm around each other's shoulder and swayed to the beat of the song.

Ron and Neville eyes grew wide in surprise. They momentarily looked at each other, worried. They didn't think the letter would be sent back to the twins. Ron was about to open his mouth to say something. But, Neville quickly nudged Ron in the ribs. Ron flinched and glared at Neville who warningly shook his head. Ron lost his animosity towards his best mate and smiled in understanding. Together, they watched the twins' funny antics and just enjoyed the show. At the finale, Fred and George raised up the arm that they put on each other's shoulder, like in a cabaret.

"You sing well, Forge," Fred complimented, giving his twin a graceful bow.

"So do you, Gred," George complimented back, also giving his twin a graceful bow.

Together they gracefully bowed to Ron and Neville. "Thank you. Thank you. Please, hold the applause. No autographs at this time please," George said beaming widely.

"Bravo! Bravo!" cried Neville, laughing and clapping heartily.

Ron half-heartedly clapped his hands too. He had a long suffering look on his face. "Are you two done? Could we have the antidote to this ink so we can go?" His twin brothers ignored him.

"He is good," Fred said suddenly, smiling while folding the letter.

"He also gave me an idea," George added appreciatively.

"Who's good? What idea?" Neville asked, confused.

"Harry, of course," Fred said automatically. He was thoughtfully looking at the letter in his hand. "See... He sent this letter to Snape. He even wrote his name on it."

"Mum, of course, believed it was us. The magic involve in creating this letter is beyond Harry's skill right now and the complimentary closing is a dead giveaway." George excitedly joined in the explanation.

"So, mum sent it back to us. He obviously succeeded in pranking Snape and most probably a few curious people in the Order meeting." Fred had an admiring look on his face.

"Now, he pranked us as well, thanks to our mum. Brilliant! Simply brilliant!" George finished excitedly, also impressed.

Ron scoffed at the admiration on both Fred and George's faces. "Oh, please... Snape wouldn't even receive that letter if we didn't send it. So, if there's anyone who's brilliant, it's us," Ron said with a smug look on his face.

Uh oh, Neville thought. He slowly backed away from the Weasley brothers. He discreetly moved towards the door. When he was sure the twins wouldn't notice him. He frantically grabbed the door handle and twisted it open. It was locked. He roughly jiggled it. But, it was no good. He heard Fred asked Ron a question. They were doomed. He nervously turned around and waited for the inevitable.

"Oh? It wasn't Harry who sent the letter?" Fred asked innocently, feigning surprise.

"How could he? He's in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, remember," Ron replied proudly. He unwittingly condemned himself and Neville.

"I see," Fred said reflectively. The twins looked at each other again. A message seemed to pass between them.

"Then, we have you and Neville to thank for," George said grinning wickedly. His eyes were unusually bright.

Ron's broad grin disappeared at the grotesque smile on the twin's faces. He saw Fred and George slowly drew their wand. He nervously gulped and gradually backed away, alarmed. "Fred, George, why are you looking at me like that? Why did you draw your wand? What are you going to do with them?"


Hermione woke up with a start. She immediately reached for her wand underneath her pillow. She lit the candles on her bedside table. She looked around the shadowed room hoping to see what woke her up. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She got out of bed and put on her bathrobe. She went to Ginny's bedside and lightly shook the girl's right shoulder.

"Ginny. Ginny, wake up. Did you hear something? I could have sworn I heard someone screamed." Ginny merely grunted and turned the other way. Hermione stood there for a moment, at a loss. Could it be Neville or Ron? But, those two slept like a log. Then, she shrugged her shoulders. "I was probably just dreaming. I'll ask them during breakfast." She hanged her bathrobe again and slipped between the warm bedcovers. With a wave of her wand, the room was dark once more.


Severus Snape was not a happy wizard. He apparated in the middle of a heavy rain. In his haste to pull out his wand, he dropped it on the muddy ground. By the time he cast the Impervius Charm, he was soaking wet. Still, he was thankful he was spared the indignity of being observed by his comrades. He set his eyes on Malfoy Manor and began his muddy trek towards the distant house.

Soon, Snape found himself waiting outside the door of the sitting room where the Dark Lord was holding a meeting. While he was waiting, he calmed his fear laden heart and cleared his thoughts. He examined his cloak once more to make sure it was clean and dry. The door began to open. Snape stood up straight and assumed a haughty posture. He saw Draco Malfoy holding the door wide open. He gave the young Malfoy a slight nod, and then he imperiously entered the room, his cloak billowing behind him.

He immediately fell on his right knee about two meters from the Dark Lord. He leaned forward and supported his body by resting the tips of his fingers on the floor. "My Lord, I come to serve." He waited tensely, his eyes never leaving the hem of his master's cloak.

"Arise, Severus." Snape warily stood up. He briefly studied the Dark Lord before he dropped his gaze. His master was paler than usual. And, he looked very tired. Instead of the lazy reclining posture, his master's body laid slump on the chair. What could have happened? There was no report from the Order meeting of the Dark Lord's involvement in the battle. Could he have exhausted himself from another magical ritual?

"How may I be of service, my Lord," Snape asked insipidly, his eyes concentrated on the hem of his master's cloak.

There was no answer. Nevertheless, Snape waited patiently. This was one of the Dark Lord's idiosyncrasies. The Dark Lord would speak only at his own leisure. New Death Eater recruits quickly learned never to rush the Dark Lord when conversing with him.

"Tell me everything you know about Harry James Evans." Snape narrowed his eyes, confused. Why this sudden interest with Potter's son? Evans was insignificant. "I am waiting, Severus." He heard again the raspy voice of his master. He immediately searched his mind with all the information he knew.

Snape's insipid voice soon filled the room. "Harry James Evans is the abandoned son of James and Lily Potter. He grew up in the muggle world believing he was a squib. He was reunited with his parents when his guardian was killed at Diagon Alley. His relationship with his parents is strained. He has been studying magic a little over a month now. I have observed his lessons with a mudblood student, Hermione Granger. He is an average wizard. His skill is comparable to that of a second year. If the Daily Prophet is to be believed, then, he may have latent animagus ability."


Voldemort ignored the rest of Snape's report when he heard that Evans was learning magic a little over a month. His anger began to boil to the surface. He couldn't believe it. He was beaten by a boy with almost no magical training. He looked suspiciously at Severus. There had to be a mistake. Could Severus be lying to him? He studied the Potions Master who was still spouting information. He couldn't detect any deceit in Severus' words which made him angrier.

He briefly glanced at Gunthar and Bellatrix. Their faces showed anger and surprise as they continued to listen to Severus. He normally ate wizards like Evans for breakfast. It was hard to believe Evans had been merely lucky earlier that night. There was more to the impudent boy. He wanted to know what it was. Severus would reveal it to him or he would die. Harry James Evans made a mockery of his magnificence. That half-blood boy must die.

Voldemort furiously hit the fabric arm of his chair with his right fist. "Enough!" he commanded imperiously, sitting straight. He noticed Severus flinched a little as if prodded by a hot iron. "Lies! You are telling me nothing, but lies!"

Severus fearfully looked at him and pleadingly said, "My Lord, I assure you. I have told you the truth. You can verify the veracity of my words when you have captured and interrogated Evans."

"Capture him? Why do you think I have been punishing Flint?" Voldemort glared at Snape who lapsed into silence, fearing punishment.

"My Lord, if I may make a suggestion..." Voldemort turned his angry eyes at Draco Malfoy who stood up from his seat. He noticed the young Malfoy bravely returned his gaze. He grinned maliciously. The boy definitely had spirit. It was a pity he would have to break it. He didn't need spirited followers. He wanted obedient servants. He gestured to a nervous-looking Snape to stand aside.

Narcissa leaned towards her son and grabbed his right hand. Her face showed worry and annoyance. "Hush, Draco. This does not concern you. Now, sit down." She tried to pull him down. But, he wouldn't budge.

Voldemort leaned back on his chair and lazily observed Draco. He raised his left hand and motioned Narcissa to settle down. "Don't stop the boy, Narcissa. Perhaps, he has a solution for us. Go ahead, Draco."


Draco nervously glanced at the others. Now that he had the Dark Lord's attention. His plan wasn't as clear anymore as he envisioned it earlier. He had watched the others bicker as to who would deliver the half-blood Evans. He would have staked his claim for the honor if he wasn't in the lowest rank of Death Eaters. If there was anyone who had the right, it was him. That half-blood imbecile broke his arm before the others even met him. If his plan worked, he would have his revenge and the prestige of delivering Evans to his master.

Draco inconspicuously wetted his dry lips and silently cleared his throat. "My lord, you could exchange one of your prisoners for that half-blood Evans."

His suggestion was met with hilarity. Gunthar sneered at him. "Boy, I suggest you sit down and mind your own business. This meeting is for adults."

Draco momentarily glared at the nasty big blond Death Eater before returning his attention to the Dark Lord. He waited nervously as the Dark Lord closely regarded him. He forced himself to remain calm and not move restlessly. The others grew quiet when the Dark Lord raised his right hand.

"If I am willing to give up one of my prisoners, how will you plan this exchange?" Lord Voldemort curiously asked in his raspy voice.

Draco noticed the cold voice and impassive face of the Dark Lord. His heart beat a little faster. He would have to be careful in outlining his plan. "I'm thinking of using the former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones, for the exchange, my lord." There were cries of surprise and outrage. The young Slytherin ignored these outbursts and calmly continued. His words were solely directed to the Dark Lord. "If we offer to exchange anyone of lower status, Dumbledore wouldn't hesitate to deny the exchange. After all, abandoned or not, Evans has never been disowned. Hence, he is still the heir of the House of Potter." He stopped and anxiously waited for his master's approval.

No one spoke. All eyes were watching the Dark Lord's reaction. For a moment, everyone thought the Dark Lord would punish the young upstart, for he narrowed his eyes, his two slits of a nostril, flaring. Everyone waited with bated breath. But, the moment passed and nothing happened.

"Continue." Lord Voldemort said the word so softly, everyone barely heard it.

Draco drew himself straight and lifted his chin high when he heard his master's approval. He briefly glanced at Gunthar who was nastily glaring at him. He gave him a mocking smile. He felt he was on his way in establishing himself as the foremost Death Eater. When he completed this plan, the Dark Lord would surely entrust him with more important missions. He would bring honor and glory to the House of Malfoy.