An Exclusive Interview

"Lies, lies, says he's down in the Bahamas
Tries, tries, bangin' little hoochy mammas
No way, none of this is true
Well you see there'll come a day
when the joke's on you, yeah!"
-"Original Prankster" (The Offspring)

"It's not easy being evil,
and evil's what I be"
-"It's Not Easy Being Evil" (Zorak)

As the sun rose over Diagon Alley, an alarm clock went off in the bachelor pad over number ninety-three, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. A calloused hand immediately swatted the nuisance off the nightstand between the two beds and into the far wall. Being enchanted and quite used to this kind of treatment by now, the clock fell silent.

A muffled groan came from across the room as the other resident peered up from under his pillow. "S'your turn to make breakfast, Fred."

"Is not, George, I made it yesterday! Accio!" Fred replied, retrieving the abused clock with a Summoning Charm.

"You made lunch yesterday, I still have the faint taste of charcoal in my mouth," George said with a smirk, sitting up. "Gonna have to start calling you 'Pyro Boy' instead of Charlie if this keeps up."

The Weasley Twins were notoriously identically good when it came to fun skills like pranking and Quidditch. But when it came to more mundane things like cooking, one was far better than the other. Case in point, Fred's tendency to burn almost anything he tried to cook.

"If you hate my cooking that much why do you still nag me to make half the meals?"

"Maybe because I'm hoping you'll improve at some point. Or maybe I should just wait for WWN to forecast a cold day in H-" George was cut off by a pillow to the face. Fred laughed at him but not for long as a full-scale pillow fight ensued.

The trouble was that Fred's cooking skills, or rather lack thereof, had never been much of an issue until recently. For the longest time, meals were provided by either their mother or the Hogwarts house-elves, depending on where the twins were residing at the time.

However, after their famous escape from school, everything changed. At first they remained at Grimmauld Place with their parents, who initially weren't too happy about what Fred and George had done. Granted, a big reason for their rash actions had been to smite Umbridge and escape her wrath, but they had also gone ahead with the joke shop plan behind their parents' backs. Though one glance at the profits they'd made via owl order and during the school year proved it had been a worthwhile venture.

But before long the twins decided it would be easier if they resided in the apartment over the shop. So after a thousand promises to keep in touch and not take after "Prodigal Percy," Fred and George packed up and left on good terms with the rest of the family. Upon glancing into their now-mostly empty bedroom back at the Burrow (they'd gone home to pick up a few things that'd had to be left behind in the previous move), Mrs. Weasley swore it was the cleanest she'd seen it in years.

And so there they were a few months later, driving each other crazy over the chores. As the pillow fight wound down, Fred headed for the kitchen in the next room. "Might as well get started, you get things ready downstairs."

"I don't think so!" George quickly followed him inside. "Can't have you burning down the shop after all. Besides, what's to prepare if it's just Rita Skeeter coming?"

Fred couldn't hide his mischievous grin. "Nothing really, I just wanted you out of the kitchen."

"Freeeeed!!!" George gave his mirror image a murderous look.

The older Weasley Twin was unfazed. "You're cute when you're mad, you know that?"

George groaned, chuckling a little. "I hate you."

"Love you too, Georgie," Fred stated simply as he rummaged through the pan cabinet.

Such things were nothing new to them. Just because they were identical twins who'd grown up side by side didn't mean they got along perfectly all the time. They were as prone to squabbles as the next pair of siblings, but usually those never lasted very long.

- - - - - -

A short while later, Rita Skeeter was walking through Diagon Alley, her crocodile skin handbag in one hand, a clipping from the Daily Prophet in the other. She smiled devilishly at the twins in the clipping photograph, who were standing arm in arm in front of their new joke shop grinning madly and waving.

"They won't be grinning when we're through with them, eh Bozo?" she asked her photographer. Bozo nodded, following close behind.

The two continued until they reached a shop on the left, large curly green words overhead proclaiming:

Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes
Magical Mischief Since 1989

A wooden sign hanging over the street read the same, but on a smaller sign hanging from the bottom was also: "F. and G. Weasley, Troublemakers in Chief." Painted behind the larger words was a pair of crossed Beater's bats, after their old mutual Quidditch position. Technically, they'd just opened the shop earlier in the year, but as a brand it had been in the making for years.

Upon entering, a fart and belch announced their presence in place of the traditional bell. The rude noise charm above the door had been George's idea. Having heard it go off countless times already, Fred and George just stood behind the counter, grinning at Rita's and Bozo's reactions.

"Fred and George Weasley, I presume?" Rita queried.

"That be us," replied the twin on her left.

She looked at them, then at the newspaper photo. In it they wore initialized shirts which presumably identified who was who. Of course, anyone who knew the pair well enough also knew that they were notorious identity-swappers. However, Fred and George were wearing plain shirts that day along with their dragon skin jackets. "So, which of you is which?"

The two gave each other a knowing, evil look. "I'm Fred, he's George," the twin on the right stated, gesturing accordingly.

"No, you're not! I'm Fred! You're George!" his brother cried, much to their audience's surprise.

"No, we both agreed that it was my turn to be Fred today!"

Rita stared at them in disbelief as the argument continued. "You take turns?!" Behind her back, her Quick Quotes Quill was having a field day.

"Of course! It's only fair that we both get a chance to be Alpha Twin for a day. The one who makes all the important decisions and such," said the most recently declared "George." Years of pranking and mental discipline were the only things helping them keep straight faces the entire time.

"But surely one of you must know who was originally named what?"

"Weeeell... Fred, didn't Mum have the Healer put a mark on one of us so she could tell us apart?"

"Yeah, on the first baby. And we were named alphanumerically.." "Fred" agreed.

Rita's patience was wearing thin. "Inotherwords...?"

"Whoever's got the mark is the real Fred."

"Well let's see who's got it then!"

"If I remember correctly, though, it's somewhere normally hidden from the public. But if you insist..."

Both twins reached for their belts but stopped at Rita's cry of "ENOUGH!" Though she would most likely include this eagerness for indecent southern exposure in her article, she refused to witness such a thing. She also decided to end their little name game then and there as well. "You are Fred!" she snapped, pointing her wand at the boy to her right. She whipped it toward his brother. "You are George!"

They simply blinked, not so much at her attempt to control the situation as the fact that she'd actually "guessed" correctly on her first try. Not that they planned on telling her as much. She'd probably think they were trying to confuse her again.

"Now that THAT'S settled, what would you like to know?" Fred asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, the Prophet already got a story about us the other week as you can see," George pointed at the clipping in her hand, having guessed its contents.

"True, but I believe they didn't get the whole story..." Rita replied with a smile. "Is it true that both of you left Hogwarts before the end of term to open this shop?"

They'd expected this kind of question given who they were dealing with, and she wasn't entirely wrong. But they also knew that Rita loved a good juicy scandal, whether it was true or not. So, geniuses that they were, the devious duo had cooked up a whopper that wasn't entirely unfounded. One that would turn her attention away from their delinquencies and give them the revenge they sought on a certain someone...

"Not entirely true, Miss Skeeter. We left mostly to escape the wrath of the Minister's mistress. 'Head'mistress to be more precise," George replied casually. Fred snorted at the play on words.

Rita raised an eyebrow at him, curious. The Ministry usually made sure that the Prophet only published Ministry stories that reflected good on them. But that had changed after the recent reappearance of Lord Voldemort in public. With the Ministry's stranglehold gone, this sort of story might be welcomed easily. And considering who it was about, a certain muggleborn student wouldn't consider it a breach of agreement. "Dolores Umbridge is having an affair with Minister Fudge?" He nodded. "It's true that he placed her there at the beginning of the year-"

"To keep the scandal from being discovered!" Fred interrupted. "Very close call from what I understand."

"And those hateful decrees she had him pass? They may have given the Ministry loads more power at Hogwarts, but Fred and I are among the select few who found out that they were more than what they seemed..." explained George with an air of utter seriousness.

"Really, now? Do tell." Rita's grin was growing more sinister by the second. She'd since gotten out a fresh roll of parchment and put the other aside, never noticing when Fred quietly summoned it to his hand to burn later.

"Oh yes... Turns out she had to take control of Hogwarts on Fudge's behalf or else she wouldn't get any more nookie..."

"...Dare I even ask how you two found that out?"

Fred winced, and George squeezed his shoulder in mock comfort. "Being natural born troublemakers, we'd committed every secret passage in the school to memory. But apparently we weren't the only ones who knew..."

"We'd just ducked into a rather large secret corridor only to find THEM doing the Nasty." George gave an involuntary shudder. "Our poor virgin eyes..."

"Once they realized they'd been spotted, Umbridge put some of her clothes back on and started chasing us."

"Fudge called after her that she'd better find some new ways to give him power or that would be their last - (hem, hem) - 'session.'"

"You poor dears..." Rita gave them both an uncharacteristic look of sympathy. "Am I right in assuming I'm the first you've told of this?"

Fred nodded grimly. "Not even our parents know we saw it happen."

"Weren't sure they'd believe us. But we knew that a hard-working truth seeker like yourself would surely understand and help us bring this scandal to light."

"Both of you should be commended for such bravery in letting the public know the truth," Rita stated, but George shook his head.

"Much as we'd like to, we'd rather just be annonymous informants."

"Granted, Fudge'll probably still figure out it was us that squealed on him-" said Fred.

"-but he won't be able to prove it without a good reason for being at Hogwarts."

"Besides, we've got our own reputation to maintain."

"Understandable. I thank you for your time and sacrifice, Gentlemen, and I bid you both good day." She put away her quill and parchment, shook hands with each twin, and headed out the door looking quite pleased with herself. Bozo followed suit as retching noises and armpit farts announced their departure.

George cast imperturbable and locking charms on the door before looking at Fred for the first time in the past hour. Both of them immediately doubled over in hysterics, finally letting out all the laughter they'd been holding in for so long that morning.

"She fell for it! She actually fell for it!" George managed, leaning against the counter for support.

"Of course she did! She doesn't care if we were lying or not. If it's enough to ruin someone else's reputation, she'll make sure the public knows!" Fred whiped a few tears from his eyes.

"Ah, sweet revenge..."

"And Mum didn't think we could do anything useful for the Order. As if!"

- - - - - -

A day or so later, their tall tale - embellished even more by Rita - appeared on the front page of the Daily Prophet. His reputation already tarnished by recent events, Fudge was eventually impeached and replaced. Umbridge was unavailable for comment given she was still recovering from the centaur attack, and her temporary replacement became a permanent one.