Olive Custon was definitely a sight to see on this particular day of September.
Her robes had patches of Merlin-knows-what, after a disastrous Potions lesson that involved an exploding cauldron spraying violet blue contents all over her.
After that class calamity, the day grew progressively worse as she had no time to take a shower after a horrible Care of Magical Creatures class, with the animal they were studying deciding to do its business on her leg.

Olive regretted waking up at all.
Everyone was now avoiding her like she had contracted the plague, and she couldn't blame them, as there was a foul stench floating around a certain radius of her.
When it came to Herbology, Professor Sprout was a bit more kind. Or rather, worried about the effect Olive's state would have on the plants.

"Miss Custom, I expect you to spend this time I give you to clean yourself. Do not return to the Greenhouses in this state again." Professor Sprout had chastised, leaving her face a tomato-red.

So there Olive was, rethinking her life decisions as water cascaded down her back.
She had violently scrubbed her leg with soap moments earlier, and it had mimicked the shade her face had been mere minutes ago.
Groaning as she realised that she indeed had to get out of the shower, Olive reluctantly turned the shower off, and stepped out.

↜↝

No sooner had she nearly arrived at the Greenhouses, when she realised that the pink fluffy slippers she had been wearing while she cleaned her shoes, were still planted firmly on her feet.
"Oh, Merlin's beard..." Olive groaned in dismay.
Would anything go right, just for once?

She trudged to the entrance of the Greenhouses, trying to prolong the agony that was set in stone.
However, it was too late.
The sleeping dragon was now awake.
"Honestly, Miss Custon, I thought you cared more about your grades! This better just be a bad day, because I am not going to have another careless student in my class!" Professor Sprout had taken one glance at her shoe attire, and a storm had been unleashed.

Olive was directed to wait outside, and she hung her head in shame as snickers of students echoed in her head. Tears of humiliation sprung in her eyes, and it was all she could do to stop them falling. Olive was so focused on not crying, that the poor thing got such a fright when two people tapped her on the shoulders.

"What're you doing out here, in... slippers..."
It was obvious that the person who spoke was holding back laughter.
"Go ahead, giggle yourself silly. I don't care." Olive spat bitterly, and it was obvious that she did, in fact, care.
An awkward silence settled upon the trio, and Olive was sure they had left. But that was not the case as she looked up and found two redheads peering down at her.

"Oh no." She muttered to herself. For they were the Troublemaking Duo, as most pupils liked to call them. Fred and George Weasley. By the mischievous grin playing on both their lips, it was safe to say that they were planning something.
"You look a little down." George started enthusiastically.
"How about we help you?" Fred finished, a full-fledged smile breaking out on his face.

Olive widened her eyes and shook her head violently.
"U-Uh... I'm good... I don't need falling cakes on my head!" She squeaked fearfully, glancing around as if cakes were really going to drop from the sky. Fred shook his head.
"Oh, Georgie. She thinks we're amateurs!"
"It's horrible!"
"Offensive!"
The scene was so odd that Olive expected them to break out in song, like in Muggle musicals.

"We are not amateurs!" They both chorused in unison.
A laugh escaped Olive's lips as the twins sported identical triumphant expressions.
"So, will you help?"
"Um... just give me a minute..."

However, Olive couldn't help but be swayed by the pair - the twins were very persuasive (or rather, irritating).
So, somehow, Olive found herself trotting along with Fred and George, while one of them had brandished an infamous dungbomb.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Olive quizzed nervously.

"Are you kidding me?" Fred (or was it George?) admonished indignantly.
"Have you met us? We're made of good ideas!"