The Friendship Of Fred and George 2 (For Admin Fred)

"What in the name of…"

"Merlin's pants?"

"Are you doing?" 

George had entered the Gryffindor common room to find Fred lying on the floor, The Monster Book Of Monsters wrestling to be released from his grip. The rest of the room was empty and silent, except that of the crackling fireplace and a strange hissing sound. Fred's wand lay a few feet away and the hissing, which was not coming from the wand, grew louder. The textbook writhed and squirmed, snapping at Fred's arms which were suffocating the thing. 

"Are you trying to anger it?" George asked, stepping over Fred's wand, moving closer to his twin. 

"Precisely!" Fred gave George and malicious grin and sat up, hugging the book close. "Right. Hold this for me, will you?"

George took the book gingerly, first holding it at arms length as to protect himself, then deciding that his grip wasn't strong enough, he, too, hugged it to his chest. "And your plan is?"

"You'll see." Fred climbed the spiralling staircase to the dormitories, disappearing from George's view for a few seconds, before returning with a large hairy animal that appeared as equally as, if not more distressed than the book in George's grasp. Crookshank's face was screwed up in anger, his tail thrashing under Fred's arm, and his claws slashing at anything within his reach. As George stared at his brother, Fred's sleeves were becoming more and more threadbare by the second, yet Fred didn't seem the list bit concerned by the bite marks now covering his hands which were holding the angry cat.

The twins looked at each other, each holding a wriggling, snapping creature. At long last, George understood. His face split into a maniacal grin, and he took another step forward. 

"On the count of three, then?" Fred suggested, his eyes watering with the pain of Crookshank's attacks, but he kept on smiling through it. 

"Okay. One…"

"Two…"

And together they shouted, "THREE!" 

George thrust the book under Fred's arm and the paper teeth latched itself onto Crookshank's tail. Fred released the yelping feline and it darted towards the back of the Fat Lady's portrait. Fred threw himself onto the floor, grabbed his wand, and pointed it at the door.

"Alohomora!" The door flew open as Crookshank's, the book still attached to his tail, sped out of the hole like a bullet. Too perfectly timed to be planned, Filtch, the caretaker, stepped in the way of the cat, mop and bucket in hand, and was suddenly bowled over by a streak of orange fur. 

Fred and George turned to one another, their hands colliding with a high-five, two identical grins etched upon their faces before they sprinted up the dormitory steps, fleeing from Filtch's cries.