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The Burrow
Village of Ottery St Catchpole
- Devon, England
( July, 1995. )

                 𝑻he Burrow was quiet under the soft glow of a summer moon, the usual bustling chaos of the Weasley household subdued for the night. The Harrington girls were spending the night, as they often did. The faint chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl drifted through the open kitchen window. Inside, the Harrington sisters were supposed to be winding down, enjoying the rare quiet of the evening with a cup of tea and a stack of magazines.

But, as always, peace never lasted long when Fred and George were involved.

"Psst," Fred whispered from the doorway of the sitting room, his grin wide and mischievous, a glint of something vaguely reckless in his eyes. He gestured dramatically for Cassie and Olympia to follow him. "Oi, Harringtons. Emergency."

Cassie, lounging on the sofa with her feet up, raised a brow. "Emergency? Did you set the garden on fire again?"

"First of all, that was a controlled experiment," Fred replied, holding up a finger. "Second, no. This is much more important."

Olympia, perched on the arm of the chair next to her sister, crossed her arms, already suspicious. "Define 'important.'"

George's head popped out from behind Fred, his grin just as wide. In his hand was a bottle of Firewhisky, the amber liquid catching the moonlight. "This kind of important."

Cassie's jaw dropped, half in disbelief, half in amusement. "Are you serious? You smuggled Firewhisky into the house? Your mum would kill you if she even so much as smelled that!"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Smuggled? Please. We rescued it from Bill's stash. He's barely ever here anyway. We're doing a public service, really."

Olympia gave them a look, though her lips twitched with the hint of a smile. "And what exactly do you plan to do with that?"

"Celebrate," George said simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "It's summer. The garden's quiet, the stars are out, and Mum and Dad are snoring like Hippogriffs. It's the perfect time for a little fun."

Olympia sat up, her curiosity outweighing her common sense. "Define 'fun.'"

Fred clapped his hands, his excitement palpable. "Drinks, stories, and maybe a little experimentation with some harmless spells. You know, for science."

Olympia tilted her head, clearly skeptical. "Your definition of 'harmless' and mine are probably very different."

"Oh, come on," George said, stepping fully into the room and shaking the bottle enticingly. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Olympia and Cassie exchanged a look. They both knew better than to trust the twins' idea of 'fun.' But at the same time, the idea of a quiet night under the stars with a bit of Firewhisky and a lot of laughter was tempting. Too tempting.

"Fine," Olympia finally said, standing and stretching her arms. "But if this ends in disaster, we're blaming you two."

Fred's grin widened as he turned on his heel. "Disaster? With us? Never."

"Ha!" Olympia quipped sarcastically.

Minutes later, the four of them were sitting in the middle of the Burrow's backyard, a collection of mismatched chairs and an old blanket spread out under the clear night sky. Fireflies danced lazily around the garden as Fred popped the cork on the Firewhisky with a dramatic flourish, pouring generous amounts into conjured goblets.

"To mischief and mayhem," Fred declared, raising his glass.

"And to not getting caught," George added with a smirk.

Olympia raised her glass, rolling her eyes fondly. "You're impossible."

"Cheers to that," Cassie muttered, clinking her glass with hers.

They sipped the Firewhisky, the warmth spreading through their chests as they leaned back to admire the stars. The twins immediately began regaling the girls with outrageous stories—some of which may have been exaggerated—about their exploits at Hogwarts, leaving Olympia and Cassie in stitches.

It was only after the third round of drinks that Fred's eyes lit up with a particular kind of gleam. The kind of gleam that always preceded trouble.

"You know," Fred began, leaning forward with a conspiratorial tone, "this is the perfect opportunity to test something we've been working on for the shop."

George groaned, though he didn't look the least bit surprised. "Fred, we agreed no work tonight."

"Oh, come on," Fred said, nudging him. "It's just a little spell. Completely harmless."

Cassie gave him a look. "Your version of 'harmless' is never harmless."

Fred ignored her, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out his wand. "Hear me out. It's an enlarging charm. Meant to make eggs bigger for pranks, right? Imagine the look on someone's face when they crack an egg and it's the size of a Quaffle."

Olympia raised a brow. "And you're testing this... now?"

Fred nodded enthusiastically. "Why not? The coop is right there. We'll just do one. Quick test. No one will even know."

"That's a terrible idea," Olympia said flatly.

"Which is why it's brilliant," George countered, grinning.

Olympia sighed, leaning back on her hands. "You two are going to be the death of us."

Fred bounded into the hen house, he waved his wand, already focused on one of the eggs. "Just watch. This is going to be amazing."

He flicked his wand, muttering the incantation. A spark of light shot toward the egg but the rooster bounded in front of it at the last minute, the rooster ran into the yard, startled as can be—and for a moment, nothing happened. The group stared at the bird, waiting.

And then it began to grow.

It doubled, then tripled in size, its feathers ruffling as its squawk turned into a deep, almost menacing roar. Within seconds, the chicken was the size of a small house, its massive wings flapping as it began stomping around the yard, knocking over garden gnomes and leaving destruction in its wake.

Fred's grin faltered. "Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen."

Cassie stood, her hands on her hips as she stared at the enormous chicken. "Fred. What. Did. You. Do?"

"I might've... overdone it a little?" Fred offered weakly.

Olympia groaned, grabbing her wand as the chicken let out another deafening squawk. "A little? That thing's a bloody dinosaur!"

George, however, was already laughing, downing the rest of his cup. "This is brilliant."

"Fix it!" Cassie shouted, pointing at the massive bird.

Fred turned to George. "How do we fix it?"

George shrugged, nonchalantly flicking out his wand—firewhiskey always made him about 10x chiller than usual. "No idea."

The chicken flapped its wings, sending feathers and dirt flying as it stomped closer to the house. Olympia grabbed Fred by the arm. "We have to stop it before your mum wakes up."

Fred sighed, waving his wand half-heartedly. "You're no fun."

"This is your fault!" Cassie yelled as the chaos officially began.

And so, the Great Chicken Debacle unfolded in the light of the summer moon.

The chaos erupted immediately. The chicken stomped through the garden, its massive claws tearing up Molly's neatly planted flower beds. It let out a deep, guttural squawk that reverberated across the yard, scattering the garden gnomes in a frenzy. One particularly brave gnome took a step forward, only to promptly turn and bolt in the opposite direction.

George stood frozen for a second, staring up at the enormous bird. Realization began to settle through his drunken haze. "It's like a feathered dragon!" he shouted, a mix of awe and slight panic in his voice.

Cassie, standing to the side with her arms crossed and an unimpressed expression, deadpanned, "This is why no one lets you two have nice things."

The chicken flapped its enormous wings, sending a gust of wind that knocked Fred's goblet clean off the blanket. It turned its head toward him, its beady eyes narrowing as if deciding he was the culprit behind its sudden growth spurt.

Fred, sensing danger, raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, let's not do anything rash, big fella—" But before he could finish, the chicken let out a thunderous cluck and started stomping toward him.

Olympia, already halfway through attempting to wrangle the situation with her wand, yelled, "FRED, STOP RUNNING AWAY! IT THINKS IT'S A GAME!"

Fred, darting around the garden like a man possessed, shouted back over his shoulder, "I'M NOT RUNNING! I'M STRATEGICALLY RETREATING!"

The chicken let out an almost playful cluck, flapping its wings as it chased after him, its giant feet thudding against the ground. Olympia groaned, raising her wand. "Does this count as practice for dealing with magical creatures, or are we just insane?"

"Definitely insane!" Cassie called back, ducking as a giant feather floated down toward her.

George, meanwhile, was howling with laughter, barely able to hold his wand steady. "This is the best thing we've ever done!"

"IT IS NOT!" Olympia shouted, pointing her wand at the chicken's feet in an attempt to slow it down. The spell only seemed to make it more determined, its clucking growing louder as it veered toward Fred again, who had just vaulted over a garden bench.

Cassie whipped out her wand, sending a spell toward the chicken's tail feathers. It let out an indignant squawk and whipped around to face her instead. "Oh, great," she muttered, stepping back. "Now it's mad at me."

"Quick, distract it!" Olympia yelled.

"How?" Cassie demanded.

"I DON'T KNOW, DO A CHICKEN DANCE OR SOMETHING!" Olympia fired back, frantically flipping through her mental Rolodex of spells.

"A chicken dance!" George tossed his head back, reeling with laughter. 

Fred, still dodging the chicken's massive claws, yelled, "Why does it have to be me it's chasing?"

"Because you're the one who enlarged it, genius!" Olympia shot back, flicking her wand to conjure a floating loaf of bread, which she flung toward the chicken. It paused for a moment, pecking curiously at the bread, giving Fred just enough time to dive behind George.

George, catching his breath, looked at Fred and grinned. "You know, for a giant chicken, it's kind of cute."

Fred glared at him. "You're no help you little bitch."

The chicken, apparently done with the bread, turned its attention back to the group, its massive head tilting curiously as if deciding who to target next. George stepped forward, her wand raised. "Alright, big guy, let's calm down—"

Before he could finish, the chicken let out another earth-shaking cluck and began stomping toward them. Cassie yelped, grabbing George's arm and pulling him back. "That didn't work!"

"I noticed!" George snapped, his voice tinged with panic.

Olympia finally stepped in, her wand raised with a look of determination. "Alright, time to get serious. I've got this."

Fred, still catching his breath, muttered, "This ought to be good."

Olympia pointed her wand at the chicken and bellowed, "Finite Incantatem!"

A spark shot out of her wand, hitting the chicken squarely in the chest. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a loud pop, the chicken began to shrink, its enormous body deflating like a balloon. Within seconds, it was back to its normal size, clucking innocently as if nothing had happened.

The four of them stared at it in silence, the garden now a mess of feathers, broken flowerpots, and overturned gnome homes.

"See?" George said, grinning smugly. "Told you I had it."

Olympia turned to Fred, her face dead serious. "If you ever get us into another mess like this, I'll hex the everlasting shit out of you."

"Duly noted Miss Harrington." Fred put his hands up in mock surrender.

Cassie, brushing dirt off her hands, shook her head. "We're lucky your mum didn't wake up."

As if on cue, the light in the Burrow's kitchen flickered on, and Molly's silhouette appeared in the window. The four froze, exchanging panicked glances.

"Scatter!" Fred hissed, and they bolted toward the tool she'd, leaving the poor, bewildered chicken to cluck softly in the moonlit chaos of the garden.

As Molly's silhouette grew larger in the kitchen window, Olympia acted on pure instinct. She quickly pointed her wand at the chaos around the garden and muttered, "Reparo Totalum!" A soft golden light swept across the yard, weaving through the overturned flower pots, scattered gnome homes, and trampled flower beds. The garden seemed to breathe in reverse as everything repaired itself—broken pots mended, flowers sprang upright, and feathers vanished into thin air. Even the dirt scuffed up by the giant chicken smoothed over as though nothing had ever happened.

Cassie stared at the now-pristine garden in awe. "That was... impressive."

"Thank you," Olympia said breathlessly, still clutching her wand. "Now run."

Fred and George, already halfway to the tool shed, waved frantically for the girls to follow. George scrambled to grab the blanket and for whiskey. Olympia and Cassie darted after them, their footsteps silent as they bolted into the shed just as the kitchen door creaked open.

Molly stepped out into the garden, her robe wrapped tightly around her and her slippers softly padding against the stone path. She squinted into the moonlit yard, scanning the scene. Everything was in perfect order—the flower beds were neat, the pots in tact, and the chickens were nestled peacefully in their coop, clucking softly in their sleep. All except the rooster who stared at her, clucking innocently.

"Hmph," Molly muttered to herself, her brow furrowed. "Thought I heard something."

The rooster let out an indignant squawk.

She stood there for a moment longer, her hands on her hips, before shaking her head and heading back inside. The door shut with a soft click.

From their hiding spot inside the shed, the four of them let out a collective sigh of relief. Fred slid down to sit on the ground, grinning. "Blimey, that was close."

Cassie smacked him on the arm. "Close? That was insane! A giant chicken, Fred!"

"It was brilliant," George said, leaning against a tool table with a satisfied smirk. "Absolutely brilliant."

"Brilliantly stupid," Olympia shot back, glaring at both twins. "I can't believe you thought any of that was a good idea."

Fred, still grinning, raised his hands defensively. "To be fair, I didn't know it would go that far."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "You never do."

George clapped Fred on the shoulder. "Come on, admit it. You're impressed, aren't you?"

Olympia sighed, shaking her head but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. "Impressed that we didn't all get caught, maybe."

Fred stood up, brushing off his hands. "See? That's the spirit. We're a team. A perfectly chaotic, slightly tipsy team."

Cassie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "This 'team' needs to make a pact. No more spells on the chickens."

"Well technically I aimed for the egg but—"

"—Agreed," Olympia said firmly, pointing at Fred. "No more giant animals. Ever."

Fred put a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. "Scout's honor."

George leaned in, whispering to Olympia, "He was never a scout."

"I know," Olympia deadpanned, rolling her eyes again.

George pushed himself off the table, and slung an arm around Olympia's shoulders, his grin as mischievous as ever. "Admit it, Harrington. You had fun."

Olympia shot him a look but couldn't hide the small laugh that escaped. "You're lucky I like you, Weasley."

"Very lucky," George replied with a wink.

Behind them, Cassie nudged Fred from his spot on the floor with her food. "If your mum finds out about this—"

"She won't," Fred said confidently, cutting her off. "Because the garden's perfect, the chickens are back to normal, and we are flawless."

Cassie snorted. "Flawless disasters."

"Still flawless," Fred quipped, standing up.

Fred held up the half-empty bottle of Firewhisky, the amber liquid sloshing as he grinned mischievously. "Well, we can't let this go to waste, can we?"

Cassie raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed. "You're kidding, right? After the chaos we just barely survived?"

George chimed in, slinging an arm around Fred's shoulder. "Cass, we survived a giant chicken. I think we've earned this."

Olympia shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'm not sure that's how it works, but fine. Where are we going?"

Fred's grin widened. "The creek. Best spot for a late-night drink."

Without another word, the four of them slipped out the shed door, their footsteps soft against the grass as they made their way to the wooded creek near the Burrow.