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╰┈➤ ❝ [𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝑂𝑁𝐸] ❞ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
⁺⤾·˚.⃗. [ᴄᴀɴᴅʟᴇs, ᴄᴀᴋᴇs, ᴀɴᴅ
ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟʟᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴀᴏs] 𑁍ࠜೄ ˊˎ
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
— Scottish Highlands
( April 1st, 1995. )

          𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐄𝐃 with a peculiar kind of energy as the morning sun crept through the windows of Hogwarts on April 1st. It was a day that most students anticipated with equal parts excitement and dread—Fred and George Weasley's birthday. April Fools' Day.

For anyone else, having a birthday that coincided with the most mischievous day of the year might have been a coincidence. For the twins, it was destiny. Hogwarts itself seemed to hum in nervous anticipation, as though the castle was bracing for whatever chaos they had planned.

The day was winding down. Classes had been simple enough. No pranks or tricks — yet. But there was news of a birthday party in the quad. More than likely thrown by Fred and George themselves. They preferred to throw their one birthday parties, something about 'only we can pull it off.'

She smiled to herself, shaking her head as she dressed. Of course, they'd be insufferable today, but it was hard to begrudge them their moment. After all, they'd managed to make every day at Hogwarts a little less predictable, a little brighter—and in George's case, a little more complicated in the best way.

As she made her way to the quad, Olympia's thoughts wandered to the plans she and her friends had been roped into for the day. Fred and George had insisted that their birthday wasn't about them, but about 'unifying the entire student body in a joyous display of mischief and revelry.' Which, in twinspeak, meant 'prepare for pranks.'

Cassie had rolled her eyes at their dramatics, but even she couldn't resist their infectious enthusiasm. Olympia, for her part, had learned long ago that resisting the twins was futile. Better to lean into the madness and enjoy the ride. Today would be no different.

As she approached the courtyard, she noticed something peculiar—students exiting with bright, neon-colored hair, some sporting polka dots on their skin, others leaving trails of glittering footprints. Olympia grinned, already suspecting the culprits.

"Here we go," she muttered, pushing open the doors to what was sure to be a day filled with unforgettable chaos. Hopefully she wouldn't have detention by the end of it.

The courtyard was alive with chaos.

Brightly colored streamers floated mid-air, enchanted to twist and swirl in mesmerizing patterns. Large, glowing balloons with enchanted faces grinned down at the students gathered below, occasionally winking or making cheeky remarks. Tables laden with snacks, charmed fireworks, and prank paraphernalia were scattered across the space, while students darted about, trying out harmless hexes and laughing at one another's ridiculous transformations. It was unmistakably a Weasley affair—bold, chaotic, and utterly unforgettable.

Olympia stood near one of the tables, arms crossed, her lips quirked into an amused smile as she watched Fred and George preside over their self-thrown birthday celebration like mischievous kings. Fred was currently demonstrating the "proper" way to launch a miniature dragon firecracker, which promptly exploded into a harmless but dramatic plume of sparks. George, meanwhile, was laughing as a first-year's shoes spontaneously began to tap-dance against his will.

"Only you two would throw yourselves a birthday party," Olympia remarked dryly as George approached her, his grin as wide as ever. "You know, some would call this arrogant."

George leaned against the table, his expression unrepentant. "Don't trust anyone else to do it better than we can."

She rolled her eyes, though her smile gave her away. "Merlin forbid someone else tries to match your standards of chaos."

"Exactly!" George said, his tone mock-serious. "We're innovators, Harrington. Visionaries. The world doesn't need another boring birthday. It needs this." He gestured grandly to the courtyard, where a group of students was chasing after a set of enchanted, self-propelling cupcakes that kept zigzagging away from their grasp.

Olympia snorted, shaking her head. "You're both ridiculous."

"Ridiculous," George said, feigning offense, "is just another word for unforgettable."

She glanced at him, her smile softening. "Well, you've got that part down."

Before George could respond, a loud boom echoed across the courtyard. A fountain in the center had erupted with glowing rainbow water, courtesy of Fred, who was now bowing dramatically to the cheers of the crowd.

"Show-off," George muttered, though he was grinning.

"Are you jealous?" Olympia teased.

"Of Fred? Never," George said, nudging her lightly. "But if you'll excuse me, there's a crowd out there waiting to be amazed. Care to join me?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "I think I'll stay right here and watch you make a fool of yourself."

George raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "But the view is better by my side." He leaned down, tipping her chin up and placing a quick kiss along her lips.

Before Olympia could reply, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the center of the courtyard, his laugh blending into the cacophony of the celebration. If there was one thing she'd learned about being close to George Weasley, it was that resistance was futile—and somehow, she never minded.

The courtyard seemed to pulse with energy as George tugged Olympia through the throng of students. Everywhere she looked, there was another burst of laughter, color, or controlled chaos. Enchanted fireworks spelled out cheeky messages in the sky—"Long Live the Weasleys!" and "Fred and George: Hogwarts' Finest."

A particularly daring group of Gryffindors was attempting to ride broomsticks that had been charmed to buck like wild hippogriffs, and a group of Ravenclaws was debating the physics of a fountain that now shot colored water in synchronized patterns to the beat of the lively music filling the air.

George stopped near the fountain, grinning as he pulled Olympia into the middle of it all. "See? Isn't this better than standing on the sidelines?"

"I'm still debating that," Olympia said, though the glimmer of amusement in her eyes betrayed her.

Fred sauntered over, dusting off his robes after another successful prank demonstration. "Ah, I see you've managed to drag Olympia into the chaos. Well done, brother."

"She didn't fight too hard," George said, smirking as he glanced at her.

"I think I'm just numb to the chaos at this point," Olympia quipped, crossing her arms. "I've accepted my fate."

Fred grinned, leaning closer with a conspiratorial air. "See, that's the first step to surviving a Weasley birthday. Acceptance. Now, the second step—"

"—is to embrace the madness," George finished, producing a small, glittering firecracker from his pocket. He handed it to Olympia with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Care to do the honors?"

Olympia arched an eyebrow. "You want me to set off one of your creations? Do you think I have a death wish?"

Fred gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Harrington, you wound us! These firecrackers are masterpieces—completely harmless."

"Mostly harmless," George amended with a smirk.

She looked between the two of them, her skepticism clear, but the infectious energy of the party tugged at her. With a resigned sigh, she took the firecracker from George and raised her wand. "If this explodes in my face, I'm hexing both of you."

Fred stepped back, gesturing grandly. "We'd expect nothing less."

"Go on," George urged, his grin widening.

With a flick of her wand and a muttered incantation, the firecracker shot into the air, spiraling higher and higher before bursting into a dazzling display of golden sparks. The sparks shifted and formed into glowing letters that spelled out: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO US!"

The crowd cheered, and Fred and George both bowed dramatically, soaking in the applause. Olympia shook her head, laughing despite herself. "Only you two would make me set off your own birthday message."

George stepped closer, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "You're part of the inner circle now, Harrington. You've got responsibilities."

She rolled her eyes, though the warmth in his gaze made her stomach flip. "Responsibilities, huh? Like keeping you in check?"

"Exactly," George said, grinning. "Though I think I'm doing a great job of keeping you on your toes."

"I'll give you that," she admitted, her smile softening.

"Oi, lovebirds!" Fred called, interrupting the moment. "There's a giant cake over here, and I need someone to help me test if it's enchanted."

George groaned but didn't let go of Olympia's hand. "I swear, he's worse on our birthday than the rest of the year combined."

"That's saying something," Olympia said, letting him lead her toward the table where a massive, elaborately decorated cake sat, surrounded by curious onlookers.

Fred was already wielding a knife, dramatically poised to cut the first slice. "Gather 'round, everyone! Let's find out if this is a cake or one of George's failed experiments!"

"I don't fail," George protested, leaning close to Olympia. "Much."

The cake was, thankfully, a real cake—but not without a twist. The moment Fred cut into it, a burst of confetti and tiny, fluttering paper badgers shot into the air, earning a round of laughter and applause from the crowd.

Olympia couldn't help but laugh along, shaking her head as George handed her a plate. "You two really don't miss a beat, do you?"

"Not on our birthday," George said, grinning as he took a bite of his own slice. "Today, we're untouchable."

She smirked. "Let's see if that holds true when McGonagall finds out about this."

Fred and George both exchanged a look, then burst into matching grins. "What McGonagall doesn't know," Fred said, "can't hurt her."

"Or us," George added, winking at Olympia.

She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest lingered as she watched the two of them bask in the chaos they'd created. Maybe, just maybe, they deserved to be untouchable for one day.

As if summoned by their very mention, a hush fell over the courtyard. The students near the entrance parted like the Red Sea, and there, in the archway, stood Professor McGonagall, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line, her piercing gaze scanning the chaos before her. Behind her, in stark contrast, was Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with unmistakable amusement.

Fred froze mid-bite of his cake, his fork still poised dramatically in the air. "Well, speak of the devil," he muttered under his breath, nudging George. "Looks like someone sent out an invitation we didn't know about."

George leaned closer to Olympia, his grin unfaltering. "This should be good."

McGonagall stepped into the courtyard, her robes billowing as though propelled by her sheer disapproval. She stopped near the fountain, where the enchanted water was still performing its synchronized, rainbow-colored display, and crossed her arms.

"May I ask," she said, her voice sharp enough to cut through the noise of the party, "what exactly is going on here?"

Fred, ever the showman, cleared his throat and gestured widely. "Why, Professor McGonagall, it's a celebration! A bonding moment for the students. House unity at its finest."

McGonagall's lips tightened further, her eyes narrowing at the floating cupcakes and glowing balloons. "House unity, is it? And who, pray tell, organized this extravaganza?"

George raised his hand lazily. "Guilty as charged, Professor. But in our defense, it is our birthday."

Fred added quickly, stepping forward with an exaggerated bow. "April Fools' Day, Professor. A day practically invented for us."

McGonagall's eyes darted between them, her expression unreadable. "Invented for you, you say? How fortunate for us all."

Before she could continue, Dumbledore stepped up beside her, his long fingers gently clasping her arm. "Now, Minerva," he said, his tone light and filled with quiet humor, "surely we can allow a little frivolity on such an auspicious occasion."

McGonagall turned to him, her brow furrowing. "Frivolity, Albus? The courtyard is in complete disarray. The students are—"

"Laughing?" Dumbledore suggested, his lips quirking into a small smile. He glanced around at the students, most of whom were standing still, watching the exchange with wide eyes. "How dare they."

Fred elbowed George. "Told you Dumbledore's on our side."

"Always has been," George muttered back, grinning.

McGonagall straightened her robes and let out a soft huff, though the sharpness of her tone softened. "While I appreciate your dedication to, shall we say, 'school spirit,' I must remind you both that there are rules—"

"Of course, Professor," George interrupted smoothly. "We've made sure nothing gets out of hand. Every firework is charmed for safety, every snack is fully edible—though it may bite back—and the only magic here is the good, harmless kind."

Fred nodded earnestly. "We even put a confetti clause in our fountain charm. Just in case."

McGonagall gave them both a look that suggested she didn't believe a word of it, but Dumbledore stepped in again, his voice calm and reassuring. "Minerva, sometimes a bit of levity is exactly what we need. Let them have their fun."

She sighed heavily, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. "Fine. But if I find one dungbomb, one sabotaged cupcake, or one student hexed beyond recognition—"

"You won't, Professor," Fred said with an overly sincere smile.

"Scout's honor," George added, raising a hand.

McGonagall glanced between them one last time, then turned on her heel. "See that it stays that way."

As she strode back toward the castle, muttering about "complete mayhem," Dumbledore lingered a moment longer. He turned to Fred and George, his smile widening just enough to give them a knowing look. "Happy birthday, gentlemen. Carry on."

The twins bowed in unison, barely hiding their grins. "Thank you, Professor."

As soon as Dumbledore disappeared through the archway, Fred straightened and clapped his hands together. "Well, that went better than expected!"

George turned to Olympia, his grin victorious. "Told you. Untouchable."

Olympia shook her head, laughing softly. "I'm not sure whether to be impressed or horrified."

"Both," George said, looping an arm around her shoulders. "But mostly impressed. Now, where were we?"

"Probably on McGonagall's last nerve," she quipped, though she let herself lean into him as the party roared back to life. If there was one thing she'd learned about George and Fred, it was that they thrived in chaos—and somehow, she didn't mind being swept up in it.

As the party roared back to life, the twins basked in their victory over McGonagall's scrutiny, the courtyard once again full of laughter and glowing lights. Olympia stayed near George, her fingers brushing his as they stood by one of the tables piled high with charmed snacks.

Fred, still buzzing from their brush with authority, was now leading a group of first-years in a ridiculous round of charades.

Just as Olympia was starting to relax into the rhythm of the party again, a familiar voice called out from the entrance to the courtyard.

"Fred! George! What have you two done this time?"

Ron Weasley stomped into the courtyard, his red hair catching the flickering lantern light. Ginny followed close behind, her eyes scanning the chaos with a mix of awe and exasperation.

Fred turned, throwing his arms wide in mock innocence. "Ronniekins! Little sister! You wound us with your assumptions. This is a celebration, not an interrogation."

Ron rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets as he surveyed the scene. "It looks like you've turned the courtyard into your personal joke shop."

Ginny smirked as she stepped past him, grabbing a floating butterbeer from the air. "I think it's brilliant. Happy birthday, you two."

Fred grinned, sweeping her into an exaggerated bow. "Thank you, dear sister. Your approval means the world."

"Don't encourage them," Ron muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched as he watched a nearby balloon explode into a flurry of harmless fireworks.

George clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Relax, little brother. You're in good hands. Nothing dangerous, nothing illegal—well, mostly nothing illegal."

Ron groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Why do I feel like I'll regret staying?"

"Because you're a pessimist," Fred quipped, tossing him a piece of enchanted candy. "Here, have a laugh. It's our birthday, after all."

Ginny turned to Olympia, her grin widening. "They roped you into this madness too, huh?"

Olympia shrugged, a smirk tugging at her lips. "It's impossible to avoid, really. Resistance is futile."

"Self acceptance is the first step," Ginny said approvingly, sipping her butterbeer.

Fred suddenly reappeared between them, throwing an arm around both Ginny and Olympia. "Ladies, you're in the presence of greatness tonight. I hope you realize this isn't just a party—it's history in the making."

Ginny pushed him off with an amused snort. "Don't flatter yourself, Fred."

"He doesn't need to," Olympia said dryly. "He's already convinced himself."

Fred clutched his chest as if wounded. "And yet, I persevere."

George shook his head, leaning toward Olympia. "See what I have to deal with every day?"

She smirked. "I'm starting to think you like it."

"I do," George admitted with a grin, slipping his arm around her waist again. "But don't tell him that."

As the group settled into the party's rhythm, Ron eventually found himself laughing at Lee's antics, and Ginny joined a circle of students dancing near the fountain. Olympia couldn't help but feel a warm sense of camaraderie as she stood with George, the vibrant energy of the celebration swirling around them.

This was the kind of chaos she'd never imagined enjoying, but with George by her side, it felt just right.

The courtyard was in full swing, the party showing no signs of slowing down. Fred was mid-demonstration of a particularly dramatic firework charm, surrounded by an awestruck group of first-years, when it happened.

A sudden bang echoed through the air, followed by an explosion of bright pink smoke that engulfed both Fred and George in an instant. The crowd gasped, then immediately burst into laughter as the smoke cleared, revealing the twins—now sporting matching fluorescent pink hair and glowing neon-green robes that pulsed with every movement.

Fred froze, looking down at his new look, then at George, whose stunned expression mirrored his own. "What the—?"

Fred broke the silence first, lifting his glowing sleeve. "George," he said slowly, "why do I look like the love child of a dragon and a traffic sign?"

"I was going to say a toxic jellybean," George muttered, his voice low with disbelief. He turned in a circle, watching as his robes flashed 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WEASELS!' in enormous blinking letters.

"Bravo!" Gideon Thyme's voice rang out, and he stepped forward from the shadows, his Slytherin robes swirling dramatically behind him. Lee Jordan and Oliver Wood flanked him, both wearing identical smug grins.

"You look radiant, Weasleys," Gideon said, his tone smooth and mockingly polite. "Very fitting for such a momentous occasion."

The courtyard erupted into chaos as Fred and George stood frozen, their newly fluorescent pink hair glowing so brightly it cast shadows against the walls. Their robes, now a violently neon green, shimmered like they were alive, pulsating with every breath they took. The crowd burst into uncontrollable laughter as the twins stared at each other in horror.

Then, Fred struck a dramatic pose, throwing his arms wide and flipping his now-pink hair like a diva.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he boomed, "we have officially been upgraded."

The courtyard erupted into laughter, the students doubling over as George joined in, spinning in place to show off the pulsating green glow of his robes. "Honestly, Fred, I think this is a bold new look for us."

"Bold?" Fred repeated, examining his neon reflection in a conjured mirror. "It's revolutionary. We're fashion icons now."

Gideon Thyme, raised a mock toast with his butterbeer. "You're welcome, gentlemen. Consider it our contribution to your birthday bash."

Lee Jordan clapped Fred on the back, grinning. "Couldn't let you two hog all the spotlight, could we?"

Fred spun dramatically, pointing at Lee, Gideon, and Oliver in turn. "You three conspired against us. Betrayal! Treachery! Treason!"

George crossed his arms, his grin only widening. "And we love it. Seriously, the glowing robes? Genius. Pink hair? Inspired."

Fred gasped, gesturing at George. "Are we losing this prank war already?"

"Never," George said, shaking his head firmly. "But credit where credit's due—this was top-tier mischief. A proper prank."

"High praise," Gideon said, bowing deeply. "Though, if I may say, it's hardly a war if we win right away."

Fred snorted, his hands on his hips. "Oh, Gideon. Sweet, naive Gideon. Do you really think this is over?"

"Not a chance," George added, rubbing his hands together. "You've just poked the dragon, my friend. And the dragon's wearing neon-green robes now."

Fred struck another pose, winking at the students watching. "And doesn't it look fabulous doing it?"

The crowd roared with laughter again as Olympia shook her head, wiping tears from her eyes. "You two are impossible."

George leaned in, flashing her a grin. "Admit it—you're impressed."

"Impressed?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm just wondering how long it'll take you to turn this around."

"Give us an hour," Fred declared loudly, "and this courtyard will be unrecognizable."

"An hour?" George smirked. "Fred, don't insult us. We'll have revenge in thirty minutes, tops."

Oliver, who had been quietly sipping his butterbeer, raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Fred and George exchanged a look, their matching grins sending a ripple of excitement through the crowd. "Oh, you'll see," Fred said, wagging a glowing green finger. "We're not just going to win this prank war—we're going to redefine it."

George nodded solemnly. "But first, we're keeping the hair. I think it suits us."

"Agreed," Fred said, tossing his pink hair over his shoulder like a model. "Now, everyone clear the area. We need space to plot."

The students scattered, laughter still ringing out as the twins, now radiating neon and armed with endless creativity, huddled together with Olympia trailing behind, grinning.

"This is going to be ridiculous," she said, shaking her head.

"Ridiculously brilliant," George corrected, winking at her.

The twins wasted no time diving into their revenge plans, setting up a makeshift 'war table' in the corner of the courtyard. Fred dragged a table closer while George rummaged through his enchanted bag, pulling out various gadgets, potions, and what looked suspiciously like a jar of sparkly, growling glitter.

Olympia crossed her arms, already stifling laughter. "You two look like evil geniuses plotting world domination."

"Correction," Fred said, straightening up dramatically. "We are geniuses, but our world domination plans are on hold. Today, it's all about taking down Gideon and his merry band of pranksters. Think they can outdo us? Ha!"

George clapped his hands together, his glowing green robes pulsing rhythmically. "Alright, first things first—distraction. We need something big enough to draw their attention but small enough to keep them guessing."

Fred snapped his fingers, his pink hair bouncing as he grinned. "The fountain!"

"What about the fountain?" Olympia asked, already regretting the question.

"We turn it into a marshmallow cannon," Fred said, his tone deadly serious. "Firing hundreds of fluffy marshmallows at Gideon, Lee, and Oliver every time they come within ten feet of it."

Olympia blinked. "That's... surprisingly tame for you two."

"Wait for it," George said, holding up a vial of bright orange potion. "We'll charm the marshmallows to stick to their robes and slowly inflate."

Fred cackled. "By the time they realize what's happening, they'll look like walking marshmallow men."

Olympia groaned, though she was already laughing. "You two are ridiculous."

"Thank you," they said in unison, grinning.

The setup was surprisingly quick. Fred tinkered with the fountain's charm while George sprinkled the potion into a pile of innocent-looking marshmallows. Olympia stood back, trying (and failing) not to find the entire spectacle hilarious. By the time they were finished, the fountain looked the same—calm, elegant, and utterly unassuming.

Fred dusted off his hands. "And now, we wait."

It didn't take long. Only fifteen minutes to be exact.

Gideon, Lee, and Oliver, completely oblivious, and still basking in the success of their earlier prank, strolled past the fountain like kings surveying their kingdom. As they crossed the invisible line around the fountain, the trap activated.

POOF!

A jet of marshmallows erupted from the fountain, pelting Gideon square in the face. Lee let out a surprised yell as marshmallows stuck to his robes, and Oliver was too stunned to react before his arms were covered in sticky, rapidly expanding fluff.

"What the—?!" Gideon shouted, stumbling back as marshmallows clung to his hair and face, inflating like tiny, sweet balloons.

Fred doubled over laughing. "Success!"

"Brilliant success," George agreed, clutching his side as he pointed at Oliver, who now looked like a very angry snowman. "Look at him! He's majestic."

Lee tried to peel a marshmallow off his sleeve, only to find it expanding to the size of a Quaffle. "What is this sorcery?!"

Oliver glared at the twins, his voice muffled by a marshmallow stuck to his face. "This isn't over, Weasleys!"

Fred, still wheezing with laughter, saluted him. "Oh, it's far from over, Wood. Consider this a friendly warning."

Gideon, now resembling a marshmallow-covered Slytherin mascot, glared at the fountain, then at the twins. "You've declared war, Weasleys. War."

George smirked, his pink hair glowing in the sunlight. "Oh, Gideon. Sweet, naive Gideon. We invented war."

As the marshmallow-coated trio retreated to regroup, the crowd erupted into laughter, students cheering the twins on as Fred and George basked in their victory.

Olympia shook her head, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "You two are unbelievable."

George grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Unbelievably good at what we do, you mean."

Fred, still grinning, added, "And don't worry—this isn't over. It's only the beginning."

Olympia groaned. "Why do I feel like this is going to end with all of you in detention?"

"Detention's temporary," George said with a wink. "Victory is forever."

As the marshmallow-coated trio disappeared to plot their revenge, the courtyard remained alive with laughter and the lingering scent of burnt sugar from the twins' latest stunt. Students buzzed with excitement, retelling the marshmallow fountain moment as if it were a legendary battle.

Fred climbed onto a table, raising his arms dramatically to address the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, today marks the start of the Great Hogwarts Prank War! Remember this moment—it will go down in history!"

The crowd cheered, their voices echoing against the castle walls. Even the enchanted lanterns seemed to flicker brighter in response.

Olympia, leaning against George, rolled her eyes but couldn't stop smiling. "You two are going to get this entire courtyard hexed by morning."

"Maybe," George said with a grin, his pink hair still glowing. "But tell me this isn't the most fun you've had in weeks."

She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Well... it does beat revising for Potions."

"That's the spirit," he said, pulling her closer and pressing a quick kiss to her temple.

Fred hopped off the table, landing beside them. "Alright, team, we've got to regroup. If Gideon's smart—and he is—we'll be under counterattack by dinner."

"Perfect," George said, smirking. "More opportunities to shine."

Olympia laughed, shaking her head. "You're both insane."

Fred pointed a marshmallow-covered finger at her. "And you're stuck with us now, Harrington. No turning back."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the chaotic courtyard, the twins led the charge toward the next phase of their plotting, with Olympia, their unofficial strategist, trailing behind. The sounds of laughter, music, and a lingering promise of mischief filled the air, sealing the day as one of those rare, unforgettable moments.

It was, after all, a Weasley birthday. And with Fred and George at the helm, there was no telling what hilarity this evening would bring.