two — the fool.

upright: innocence, new beginnings, free spirit

reversed: recklessness, taken advantage of, in consideration

( alternatively: george weasley gets an itch! )

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GEORGE WEASLEY WOULD like to state that, for the record, he did not lose the Marauder's map despite what Fred says. Instead, he would like to propose that the amendment that he instead misplaced the unsuspicious piece of parchment and that it would surely turn up crammed between one of the pages of his book or at the bottom of his bag. Besides, it wasn't as if Fred hadn't done the same thing before, which he'd brought up to his fuming brother (not the brightest move he's ever made, he'll admit). 

And in his defense, how was he supposed to remain calm and act in a rational manner when the most exciting thing to happen at Hogwarts in ages was finally underway?

Granted, it was absolute rubbish that they'd placed an age limit on those who could enter the tournament, but George had grown bored as the past six years had consisted of relatively the same things (okay okay, he knew that since Harry started coming to Hogwarts there was at least something new every year, but those events typically happened near the end of the year and were more bothersome than entertaining and it was just assumed a this point that something bad would happen involving Harry, so he didn't count them). This Triwizard Tournament? This was the good stuff, and it brought with it a plethora of new people to prank, people who wouldn't know to avoid the twins until it was too late.

However, their pranks wouldn't be nearly as successful if they didn't have the map. Which is precisely why the red headed twins were racing through the empty corridors in their pajamas. George skidded around a corner, his socks doing little to help him gain any traction, nearly tripping over the threshold of the library.

The twins split up without saying anything, starting at the table where they'd been sitting earlier that day and working their way out, combing through the maze of bookshelves.

George would have to admit, he was a bit annoyed at his current predicament. Of course the one time he and Fred decide to actually do homework (though, it was only because they didn't want a month long detention with Snape since they had loads of products to test out) and the one time they go to the library to get work done, it ended in mild disaster.

And to make matters worse, they were on a time crunch. Not because of curfew, the twins had stopped caring about curfew their first year, but because technically speaking, they weren't the owners of the map anymore. Being the kind souls they are, George and Fred had gifted Harry the map last year so he could sneak into Hogsmeade undetected. They'd been borrowing it in an attempt to find a good place to store and perfect some of their joke products, and were set to return it in a week.

It was a little hard to return something you didn't have.

When their search proves to be futile, George makes sure to keep an extra inch between himself and Fred as they stalk back to the common room. Reading Fred's emotions was easier then reading a picture book, and George could see the frustration pinching his face and the anger lining his shoulders.

So it was no surprise that the instant they were back in their dorm room, the two brothers dissolved into a petty fight that started on one of their beds (though fight was simply another way of saying Fred was currently trying to suffocate him with a pillow for his stupidity) and ended with them scuffling on the floor. Both the twins had short fuses and were similar to dynamite; they exploded into an exaggerated fit of rage before simmering out in the same breath, their anger strong but fleeting. George finally wrestles Fred off of him, and Fred takes a few deep breaths, eyes still narrowed in annoyance. For good measure, his twin hits him in the face with the aforementioned pillow before clambering on his bed.

"Little brotherly spat?" Lee Jordan asks from where he sat on his bed, flicking to the next page in a sports magazine. He hadn't bothered to move the entire time, more interested in the beautiful Harpy blowing a kiss at the magazine from her broom after she'd caught the Snitch then the scuffle on the floor (a regular occurrence in their dorm. Lee would honestly be more concerned if they hadn't just fought, the twins gone nearly three days without throwing a punch and he was getting a little worried at the lack of sibling violence).

"George is an absolute fuckhead." Fred grumbles from his bed.

"Is he now?" Lee says in the tone of one who couldn't care less.

"Am not!" George retorts, climbing into his own bed, rubbing at his smarting nose. Pillows, while usually very soft and malleable, became positively lethal in the wrong hands.

Lee reluctantly closes his magazine, "Alright boys, spit it out."

Fred looks at their friend, "Spit out what?"

Lee waves a hand in the air, "Whatever's got your knickers in a twist. Lee is here to save the day..." he paused, glancing down at the Muggle wrist watch he wore, squinting, "for the next three minutes, but then I've got a snogging session to get to."

"George is an blathering, idiotic, no good—"

"Fred is a fuckin' drama queen who—"

Lee throws his hands up as the twin's words clash into each other, each increasing their volume to be heard over the other, "FOR MERLIN'S SAKE SIMMER DOWN."

The two fall into a shaky silence, glaring at each other.

"Merlin's tits, I feel bad for your mother," Lee mutters, scratching at his chin, "alrighty Fred, you go first."

Fred frowns, "George lost the map."

Lee's eyebrows shoot up, "...oh shit."

"I didn't lose it," George is quick to correct, "I simply misplaced it!"

"Sure you did, Georgie," Fred snarks, "and I'm the bloody minister of magic!"

Lee's watch beeps and he gets out of his bed, "Right well, don't burn down the room you two." And promptly leaves.

Fred huffs and lays down, muttering something under his breath.

"It'll turn up," George says firmly.

Fred squints at him, "It better." His twin says flatly before rolling over, his back to George. A flick of his wand and the curtains close around him.

George sighs and flops back onto his bed. Did he feel a little guilty for misplacing the map? Yes. Was he going to let Fred know so he could bring it up to win future arguments? Absolutely not. Besides, surely the map would turn up sooner rather than later... right?

───━┿──┿━────

Wrong. George had been wrong. Six days had passed in a blink of an eye and the Marauder's map was nowhere to be found. The sixteen-year-old had torn apart the dorm room, the common room, and half of the library in his quest for the map, and yet the map continued to evade him.

While the twins were known to hold grudges against others, they could never hold them long against each other, but just because Fred had (somewhat) forgiven him, didn't mean his brother wasn't irritated at the lack of the map. His irritation had only grown when Harry had found out they lost the map, though the younger boy hadn't been upset ("I wouldn't even know the map had existed if it wasn't for you two," Harry had told them, "and it wasn't like it was mine in the first place. Besides, I'm sure it'll turn up.") so Fred had taken it upon himself to be upset for Harry.

Waste of energy, if you asked George.

A week later found George trailing after his brother, stretching his arms overhead to work the kinks out of his back as they made their way out of Transfiguration, their last class of the day. They'd been held back by McGonagall who'd reprimanded them for the prank they pulled on a few Beauxbaton students during the class period, the stern woman taking 10 points each for their discretions and a firm reminder that the other schools were here to strengthen relationships, not tarnish them.

So preoccupied in his thoughts, George failed to notice the girl leaning against the wall outside the classroom until he'd already past her. The sight of the unfamiliar student registered in his mind a second before footsteps sound out behind him and a soft tap lands on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, George right?"

George turns around, Fred following suit, the twins standing shoulder to shoulder as they faced the girl. She's on the shorter side (though, to be fair, most people were short to him) and her wavy brown hair is tucked behind her ears, the short strands hovering above the metal pin on the right side of her robes. A green and silver tie is knotted neatly, the colors reflected in her Prefect pin, and George feels vague familiarity tugging at the back of his brain.

He didn't know the girl in front of him, per say, but her face was familiar enough that he knew they were in the same year.

Realizing she'd asked him his name, George smiles at the easy in the girl had given him, "It's Fred actually. Easy mistake I know, we look rather similar."

"It's no big deal," Fred catches on easily, "you can call us Forge and Gred if you'd like. Or Fred and George. Or Thing 1 and 2. I'd be Thing 1 of course, and Gred, and George. This one is Thing 2, Forge, and Fred. Unless... wait am I Thing 2, Fred?"

"Nonsense, you're Thing 1 George, but you're also Forge, not Gred. I'm Gred, not Forge, but also not to be confused with George because my name is Fred."

"Oh right you are, Gred. But I do believe if you're Forge, but not George, then that is a terrible mistake because what a rhyming scheme that is! Perhaps we should change our secondary names so you're Gred to rhyme with Fred, and I'm Forge to rhyme with George. That makes more sense, don't you think?" Fred turns to the Prefect with a wide grin, one that matches the one on George's face.

Her eyes flicker between the two and George notices that she has a strange mixture of amusement and disbelief on her face, "...sure. Anyways, sorry to bother you, but I believe this is yours?"

The girl holds out a very familiar piece of blank parchment and George blinks. There was no way the Slytherin Prefect was holding out the Marauder's map that had been plaguing his mind for the past week... except that's exactly what she was holding.

George reaches out to grab it, "Where'd you find it?"

"Library, picked it up so it would avoid getting trampled." She says, letting him take it from her before tucking her hands inside of her robe pockets, "I apologize for not being able to give it to you sooner, I got swept up in the chaos of things this past week."

"That's alright," George says a bit absentmindedly, running his fingers over the familiar parchment. He then looks back at her, "Thank you..." he trailed off, realizing he doesn't know her name.

"Vera," the girl says, "and don't mention it. See you around, George," she pauses and turns to Fred, inclining her head, "Fred."

Then she's walking away, smiling as another girl looks up from further down the hall, the two making their way towards one of the always shifting staircases.

"That was..." Fred starts, looking down at the map in George's hand.

"Odd?" George finishes his brother's thought, watching the short girl vanish out of sight. "Very."

Then it finally hits George that the map is back in his hands and he grins at his brother, "I told you it would turn up."

Fred rolls his eyes, "You also said you misplaced it, when clearly you lost it."

The two start walking towards the Gryffindor tower, George scoffing, "Semantics."

After they tell the Fat Lady the password (this week it's fairy lights), the two clamber inside, pleased to find the common room mostly empty due to the odd time of day, with the exception of their younger brother, his two friends, and one very familiar roommate of theirs.

"Ah Harry!" Fred croons, "Just the wizard we were lookin' for." He hops over the back of the couch and lands next to the dark haired boy, settling back into the worn material. Harry looks up from the letter in his lap, a question already swimming in his eyes.

Ron, who's sitting in one of the arm chairs next to the couch glances over, annoyance flickering in his gaze. Hermione, who's occupying the other arm chair, doesn't look up from the thick textbook propped open against her knees. Lee is sprawled across the other couch, fast asleep.

George makes his way around the back of the couch Harry's on and drops the map unceremoniously into the younger boy's lap, "The map, as promised!"

He then shoves Lee off the other couch, sending his friend to the floor in a flurry of confused limbs, sitting down into the now empty space. Lee huffs from the floor and mumbles something that sounds a lot like duck you. George reckons he misheard the first letter.

Harry straightens up, "You found it!"

Lee rolls onto his back, yawning, "Where was it?" The yawn contorting his face also contorts his words, making his sentence into an almost incoherent mess.

"Some Prefect picked it up," Fred says, "she was a bit odd but gave us the map back so I'm not gonna complain."

"Odd?" Lee questions, propping himself up on his elbows, "Was it the one from Hufflepuff, who swears she's never high but always smells like weed?"

George shakes his head, "It was a Slytherin Prefect, um... shit she told us her name. Vera, I think?"

Fred shrugs, "Sounds about right, pretty sure she's in our year."

Lee's face scrunches up as he thinks. Surprisingly, it's not Lee who speaks next, but rather Ron whose face lights up in recognition, "Did she have brown hair? Shorter side?"

Fred tilts his head, looking at his brother, "Yeah she did... how do you know that? Does ickle Ronnikins have a crush on a Slytherin?"

"A Slytherin Prefect to boot." George chimes in, never one to miss a moment for teasing his little brother.

Ron just stares at Fred, before looking over at George, "You're kidding right? On Verity Finch?"

The two look at each other before looking back at him, clearly waiting for Ron to elaborate, and they're not the only ones. Hermione has placed a bookmark in her textbook, and Harry is also looking at his best friend, the Marauder's map held securely in his hands. Lee is still on the floor, though he's now given up on getting up, instead laying down with an arm over his eyes.

Ron's eyes flicker around the room "Well, you do know what she is, don't you?"

The twins exchanged amused glances before chorusing together, "A girl?"

The tips of Ron's ears tinge red in embarrassment, "No you gits. I mean you know what's she's part of, right?"

"Oh yes Ronald," George says dryly, "we clearly know exactly what you're vaguely hinting at, isn't that right Fred?"

"Mmhmm, we're practically mind readers at this point," Fred agrees.

Ron leans back, his arms folded over his chest, "Now you two are just being gits."

The two look at each other again, mock surprise exaggerated on their somewhat impish features.

"Us?"

"Being gits?"

"Never."

"Do you want to know or not?" Ron snaps at them, and the twins grin at successfully getting underneath his skin.

"Yes we most certainly do," Fred says.

"Please enlighten us," George adds.

Ron glances around the common room before leaning forward. Subconsciously, the others lean in and he looks at each of them before whispering, "She's a Death Eater."

George bursts into laughter and Fred isn't far behind, snickering as he leans back into the couch, "Good one."

Ron looks offended at their disbelief, "I mean it! Don't you know who her aunt is? It's Evangeline Montgomery."

It's interesting what a name can do to a room, and at the mention of the infamous witch their laughter comes to an abrupt halt.

"Er, who's that?" Harry asks timidly, breaking the somber silence.

Unsurprisingly, it's Hermione who speaks up, "One of the only known Death Eaters to evade arrest. She killed eleven Half-bloods and Muggleborns in one night, alongside her own sister. On top of that, she murdered eighteen Muggle families, and apparently tortured a Pureblood family before fleeing. She managed to make it outside of the UK, and while other countries aren't keen on having her around, international laws make it hard for Aurors to track her down properly."

"So, she's still out there?"

Hermione nods, "She's on the Top Ten Most Wanted list for the Ministry."

"Well, if we're going to be talking about her family tree," Lee pipes up, "then perhaps we should toss in that her father's Alexander Finch. He's one of the best Aurors around, you know. Caught a lot of high risk witches and wizards both during and after the war. So you can't go around saying Vera's a Death Eater just because her aunt's one, by that logic since her dad's an Auror, so is she."

"I'm not saying she's a Death Eater because of her aunt," Ron said stubbornly, "it's because she has the mark."

"Really? You know this how because she just cornered you one day and made you look at it?" Fred questions with a wicked grin, trying to dispel the serious atmosphere, "Got to second base and got a good look at it, did you?"

Ron scowls, "She wears an armband on her left forearm, spans from her elbow to her wrist. Why else would someone wear that unless they had something to hide? Besides, she's in Slytherin. No good witches or wizards come out of that house. But if you don't want to believe me, fine, I know it's true though."

"Ah the infamous armband," Lee mumbles, arm still over his eyes, "heard rumors about that too. Honestly, heard a lot of rumors about that girl. Some say she's a Death Eater, some say she's the world's youngest Auror, others say she's a Seer or a Squib in disguise. Merlin's tits, the sheer amount of rumors circulating her puts her up there with you, Harry, and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb here."

"Rumors can blow things out of proportion," Harry admits softly, "but I mean, Ron could also be right. It's not like we'll ever know though, doubt she'd show us."

The twins exchange another look and Fred sniffs the air, "Smell that, George?"

George copies his brother's action, "Smells like a challenge to me, Fred!"

The conversation soon shifts and eventually the twins make their way upstairs, George sitting on top of his bed while Fred rummages through his trunk. It's only then that the thing that had been bothering him finally makes it to the forefront of his mind and he frowns deeply, mind whirling.

Finally, George blurts out, "She knew our names."

"Who?" Fred asks absentmindedly.

"Vera," he shifts so he can see his brother better, "we did our usual skit and despite that she didn't hesitate to call us our proper names."

Fred glances up, "Lucky guess?"

George shakes his head, "I don't think so."

Understanding flashes across his twins eyes and then Fred's face warps into a shit-eating grin, "Oooh, so that's what's been bothering you."

"You could tell?"

"George, you always get this stupid look on your face when you get one of these."

"One of what?"

Fred grins, "An itch. You know, when you can't stand not knowing how someone did something, you get this invisible itch. And now, George's got an itch for Verity Finch." He pauses and wicked delight lights up his face, "Oh that rhymes! George's got an itch for Verity Finch!" Fred hops up and crows the sentence, laughing as he dodges George's pillow flying to the air, "GEORGE'S GOT AN ITCH FOR VERITY— mmph!"

It's at this moment Lee walks in, pausing at the sight of Fred in a choke hold, before commenting mildly, "Hey now, we all agreed no murder in the dorm room."

George reluctantly releases Fred, who stumbles back and comes to a stop next to Lee. Fred grins widely at him and mouths the words over Lee's shoulder.

George briefly wishes Lee would reconsider the no murder rule.

"I'm going to head down to watch people put in their names in the Goblet," Lee tells them, "I heard a bunch of girls may faint at the sight of Diggory, thought it'd be entertaining. Say, did you two ever figure out how you're going to get past the Age Line?"

"I can't seem to recall. Did we, Fred?" Fred says, tapping his chin.

"Well I'd say we did, George. We were going to enter tomorrow morning." George replies slyly.

"Right then!" Fred pumps his fist in the air, "To the Goblet we go! I'd like to see some of our pathetic competition."

As the trio make their way to the Goblet of Fire, a slew of conversations follow, the topics switching around quicker then a Quaffle at a Quidditch game. But despite shoving his brother into a wall, turning an unsuspecting Third Year student's bag into a porcupine, and the general mayhem that followed them, George couldn't completely tune out Fred's voice whispering in the back of his mind.

George's got an itch for Verity Finch! George's got an itch for Verity Finch! George's got an itch for Verity Finch!

Because, unfortunately, his brother was right.

He did have an itch for Verity Finch, and when George Weasley got an itch?

He could never, ever, resist it.

thanks for reading!

i adored writing this chapter & i hope i managed to capture the twins properly.

let me know what you think :)