"Oh no! Professor Viktor!"
"Please don't do that!"
"We saw Teaching Assistant Tom flying overhead."
"So we secretly followed him into the Forbidden Forest."
"But when Tom got chased by all those birds, we lost him and got completely turned around."
"We only just found our way back—and then you caught us."
Viktor listened to the twins rattle off their explanation in perfect tag-team fashion, one sentence after another like spilling beans.
He gave a satisfied nod.
"Alright. Since you two were so cooperative and honest… I won't roll you straight to Professor Snape's office."
The twins let out huge, relieved sighs.
But before they could fully relax, Viktor's voice continued calmly.
"So—Gryffindor loses forty points."
"Oh! Merlin's flowery underpants!" ×2
The twins' relief evaporated instantly. They let out twin howls of despair.
Forty points on the very first day? McGonagall was going to have them under a microscope for the rest of the term!
Ignoring their wailing, Viktor flicked his wrist. Tom immediately released the vine-wrapped human ball.
The twins tumbled free, scrambled to their feet—and promptly forgot all about their punishment.
They stared at each other in open-mouthed astonishment, then at the smug-looking Tom.
"That was so cool!" ×2
"Teaching Assistant Tom, I'm Fred—he's George."
"No, I'm Fred—he's George."
"......"
Tom watched the twins spin in circles arguing about who was who. At first he could keep track.
But after a few dizzying revolutions, his head spun like a top, stars circling his eyes, and he collapsed dramatically onto the grass.
A second later he popped back up—perfectly fine—and immediately delivered one sharp paw-slap to each twin's forehead.
Two enormous, pointed lumps instantly sprouted on Fred and George's heads.
Tom rummaged around in the fur near his tail, pulled out a small bottle glowing with golden light, uncorked it—
—and two shimmering golden clouds drifted out.
He poked and prodded the clouds with theatrical flair, then jabbed them straight onto the twins' massive forehead lumps.
The clouds instantly reshaped themselves into two perfect, glittering golden name-tags:
FRED
GEORGE
"Hey! This is brilliant!" ×2
The twins stared cross-eyed at the glowing names floating above each other's heads and erupted in delighted shouts.
They reached up to touch the golden clouds—
—and immediately yelped in pain.
Because their fingers didn't meet magical mist.
They met the very solid, very tender, very pointy lumps Tom had just given them.
Tom cackled without a shred of shame.
But the twins recovered quickly. Their eyes locked onto the still-glowing potion bottle in Tom's paw.
"Oh, our handsome, brilliant Teaching Assistant Tom!"
"Would you possibly sell us that potion?"
"We'll trade you our own handmade prank prototypes!"
Without waiting for an answer, they started pulling gadgets from every pocket and fold of their robes—Sneezing Powder Snaps, Fanged Frisbees, trick wands, Decoy Detonators, everything.
They launched into a rapid-fire sales pitch, one finishing the other's sentences, demonstrating sound effects and dramatic effects.
Tom's eyes grew brighter and brighter with every new toy.
These things looked insanely fun.
He was just about to hand over the bottle when—
ahem.
Viktor's polite cough sounded right beside his ear.
Tom froze mid-reach.
He remembered Viktor's very clear warning: Do NOT give your homemade potions to students. If I catch you, say goodbye to pocket money forever.
Tom let out a long, tragic sigh… and stuffed the golden bottle back into his fur.
Then—looking like he was parting with his own soul—he pulled out a tiny wallet, rummaged sadly inside, and finally extracted ten shining Galleons.
He held them out to the twins.
They didn't move.
Tom gritted his teeth, reached in again, pulled out another ten Galleons, and shoved the full twenty into their hands.
Then he gathered up the entire armload of prank gadgets and candy prototypes, hugged them to his chest like treasure, and beamed.
Viktor ignored the entire three-way transaction.
He led the twins out of the forest, then headed straight for the Great Hall with Tom trotting happily beside him.
Behind them, Fred and George stood frozen, each clutching ten gleaming Galleons and staring at Viktor and Tom's retreating backs.
"Hey, Fred… is this real?"
"Why'd you pinch me, Fred?"
"Does it hurt?"
"Of course it hurts! Try it yourself."
"Ow—easy, George, that really hurts."
After their usual round of mutual abuse, the twins looked down at the twenty Galleons in total and grinned like they'd just robbed Gringotts.
"Twenty solid gold Galleons!"
"That's enough to last us ages!"
"Teaching Assistant Tom is a legend!"
"May Merlin bless his furry soul!"
Still sporting their glowing golden name-tags, the twins practically skipped back toward the castle, already plotting.
"Fred, that Tom is incredible."
"Yeah, George—he rolled us into a ball and gave us these massive lumps!"
"We've got to invent some killer new products and sell them to him."
"Absolutely. And we need to figure out how these floating names work—they're way too cool!"
"Hey Fred—d'you think we can still sneak out at night with these glowing names on our heads?"
"What's to be afraid of? New challenge!"
By the time they reached the Great Hall, buzzing with excitement and twenty Galleons richer, they'd completely forgotten about the forty-point deduction.
Until they stepped through the doors.
Their smiles died instantly.
Professor McGonagall stood directly in front of them, face thunder-black, eyes blazing.
Beside her: a furious Percy.
And behind them: the Gryffindor hourglass—noticeably, painfully lighter.
The twins locked eyes.
Both saw the exact same three words flash in the other's gaze:
We're screwed.
McGonagall stared at the two redheaded disasters in front of her: frozen grins, enormous pointy lumps on their foreheads, and glittering golden name-tags reading FRED and GEORGE floating above each one.
Her fury somehow managed to increase another notch.
"Detention. Immediate and extended. First day of term and you've already cost Gryffindor forty points. You will double your academic contributions to the house—and only then will your detention end."
The twins gulped in perfect unison.
Somewhere behind them, Tom was probably still cuddling his new prank arsenal.
And Viktor? He was already sitting at the staff table, calmly enjoying dinner.
Some days really were perfect for being a professor.