Summary: You're upset about some of the marks you got back, so Fred tries cheering you up.

   "Come on now. Look at what I got! It's even worse than yours!" Fred says, shoving his History of Magic homework in your face. You push it away and prop your head up on your hand. Fred gives you a disapproving look. "You're really this upset about one measly essay? [Y/N] I've gotten worse than that on the past T H R E E essays!" He exclaims, tossing the rolls of parchment onto the table. Madam Pince, the librarian, glares at him. She's particularly irritable today.
You continue to stew, your cheek pressed against your hand as you slouch in your chair. Fred is still going about trying to get you to cheer up. He's gone from comparing your marks to just staring you down. Every time you glance at him he's still looking at you. You watch him, stiff as a statue–and quiet (which is unlike him.) He smiles and begins copying you, his face making an overdramatized version of your own. "Stoooop," you whine, setting your head on the table and hiding under your arms.
   "Why are you still so grumpy?" He asks. Your voice is muffled and sounds a bit funny. "Because I failed, that's why!" Fred goes silent. You keep your face hidden for a while, half expecting him to do something, but he doesn't. It's another five minutes before you sit up. Fred is still across from you with him arms crossed and his eyes fixed on you. "What?" You ask quietly. He doesn't say anything. He just makes a face. His eyes cross and his tongue sticks out, making him look sort of like a ginger monkey.
   "Fred–"
Now he's baring his teeth and scrunching his eyes.
   "...Fred."
"What?"
   "What are you doing?"
"I'm not doing anything. What're you doing?" He makes another ridiculous face.
   "Stop that!"
   You finally crack a smile and so does he. "Ahhh, there it is!" He says, pointing at your face. You stop smiling immediately and sigh, returning to your original mopey state. "Really?" He asks; "Reeeally? C'mon now you're just being stubborn." You glance at him and hang your head (this just adds to the whole effect). Fred chuckles, "You're just determined to be sad aren't you?" He pokes you. "Stop! No! Let me sulk!" You say, hiding another smile by turning away from him. He laughs at you again. "You're ridiculous and I love you."
   During another period of silence, George walks by, becoming the comic relief. "Hey," Fred says, nudging your arm. "You wanna know the one thing worse than my marks?

"George's hair."

   "Your hair is exactly the same," you giggle, dropping the façade once more. "No," Fred says. "I've started wearing it in a bun, don't you know?" You raise a brow at this. "Oh really?" He nods and begins putting his hair up (or at least he tries). You laugh at the little nub of bright red hair he's managed to gather–even harder after he charms it to stay put. "Now that I'm pretty and you're happy again, what do you say we go prank the Slytherins?" Fred says as his "bun" floats around on his head. Before you can answer, he's already shoved your stuff in your bags and is dragging you by the hand. You nearly knock Harry over as you're leaving.

"Nice hair, Fred."