a/n: holy fuck..this took forever. i’m back sort of? and wow look at me no filth in sight that warning list has never been that short. anyways, hope yall enjoy i will push the second part out by mid november (i hope)

𓆙

year 1: september 1st

the moment you stepped into hogwarts your little 12 year old mind was blown. your parents had talked about their time at the school, reminiscing in memories but their descriptions of the place hadn't lived up to the sight itself.

you had followed the crowd of kids, hiding yourself amongst the large group as you gape at the sheer size of the great hall.

you attempted to sit yourself down wherever your little body could find space, preferably at the gryffindor tables. both your parents and their parents had been placed into gryffindor, so of course, you wanted to carry the legacy on.

you gnaw at your lip as you take in the scene, kids chattering in excitement as they await for their houses.

however, excitement lasts only for so long before something, or someone ruins it.

you'd been at hogwarts for exactly ten minutes when you had made your first enemies.

to be fair, it wasn't entirely your fault. the goblet of pumpkin juice had been way too full, your hands way too shaky, and the slytherin table had been way too close to your clumsy orbit.

you were trying to weave through the crowded great hall, searching for the gryffindor table, when someone bumped into your shoulder from behind. the cup jerked, your fingers slipped, and the next thing you knew, a wave of sticky orange liquid was flying through the air—straight into the lap of a smug, brunette haired, sharp-jawed boy in green and silver.

it hit him square in the chest. soaked right through his robes. the entire slytherin table went quiet.

you held your breath, your mind scrambling as you open your mouth to quickly apologize.

he looked down slowly, like he couldn't quite believe what had happened. thick drops of juice were dripping from the collar of his uniform, pooling on the bench. next to him, another boy, his exact twin, down to the cut of his jaw and the sharp glint in his eyes with the only difference being his blonde hair—let out a strangled laugh before doubling over, wheezing.

you stood there, frozen, your empty goblet still in your hand like a murder weapon.

you could see his hands shake in anger, his chest rising and dropping quickly as he continues to stare down at himself in pure disbelief.

you made a move to apologize only for the brunettes snarl to cut you off, you heard him curse under his breath. something along the like of  "stupid hag."

never mind then.

"oh," you said, blinking owlishly, "oops?"

the soaked twin didn't laugh. he raised his eyes to you, face unreadable. sharp. calculating.

"you did not just do that."

"i mean," you shrugged, trying to act unbothered even though your heart was in your throat, "technically, gravity did it."

his twin leaned in, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes glittering with mischief, "technically," he said lazily, "you just declared war."

and then professor mcgonagall called your name.

you turned, face flushed, and tried to walk with some level of dignity up to the front of the hall. tried being the key word—because the moment your foot hit the step, your shoes tangled together, and you went down. face first. in front of everyone.

laughter erupted. loud, echoing, merciless.

you scrambled up, mortified, and caught a glimpse of the twins at their table—high-fiving, smug as ever. the dark haired one smirked when he caught your eye, his eyebrows raising in mockery as he stares you down.

you didn't need a prophecy to know it.

they were going to be a problem.

and if they wanted war? fine.

you were a gryffindor now. you'd give them hell.

𓆙

september 29th

you weren't sure if you hated them because they were smug, or if they were smug because they knew you hated them.

either way, you couldn't go a single day without running into them. it had been weeks since school had begun, weeks that were hell.

when the blonde one had declared war, he meant war. you hadn't gone a single day without something going wrong, and it was all thanks to the spawns of voldemort himself.

"juicebox," one of them—riki, you had learned who was the blonde one called from across the courtyard.

you didn't even bother to look up from your book, recognizing his voice which was a tad bit squeakier than his brothers, "sod off, clone number two."

"ouch." he plopped down on the bench across from you like he had every right to sit there. like this wasn't your spot. "you wound me."

niki appeared a second later, dropping an apple onto your open book. it rolled and knocked your quill into the dirt.

thanks.

"how's our favorite little gryffindork today?" riki asks sweetly, voice dripping with sarcasm as he swaps from the bench across from you to now sitting right next to you.

you gave him your best unimpressed glare. "if i tell you to choke, would it count as a hex?"

"only if you mean it," riki grinned. you narrowed your eyes at his toothy smile, holding yourself back from making a comment about his missing front tooth.

riki was the louder one you had noticed, doing most of the talking whereas niki stayed silent. he seemed to observe and let his brother do the talking for him.

you narrowed your eyes. "trust me, i do."

they'd been haunting your life since day one. tripping you in corridors. charming your quills to write backwards. once, they'd even slipped a sugar quill into your bag that turned your teeth blue for an entire afternoon. you'd retaliated by jinxing their ink bottles to leak. their essays were ruined. professor snape was not amused.

but it didn't stop them. if anything, it made them worse. your retaliation seemed to egg them on, motivate them even, to out do you.

"you're awfully bold for someone whose robes smell like burnt broccoli," riki sniffed dramatically, leaning in to smell your robes.

you slammed your book shut. "i hexed your robes once—once—and you're still crying about it."

"it was garlic-scented. for two days." he said, eyes wide, lips twitching. "that's psychological warfare. no girl wanted to be near me," he almost cries out.

you roll your eyes, "no girl wants to be near you in any circumstance."

riki grins, his eyed meeting his twins as they share a look.

creeps.

"you know that's not true, juicebox. look at you, you want us near you. right?" he teases, nudging your shoulder as you lean back to avoid his touch,

"you deserved it," you said, now standing—ignoring the blondes words. "you made my parchment sing 'i'm a little teapot' in the middle of charms."

"it was catchy," niki offered with a shrug, finally adding his two cents to the conversation . "admit it," riki chimes in, now standing too.

you two stood at the same quaint height of 5'3", however, you seemed to have grown a bit taller than them. you teased them about it relentlessly, how you, a girl, was taller than the both of them,

you glared at him, "bite me."

"don't tempt me," riki snaps back.

you faltered, cheeks turning a flush pink as you struggle to come up with a snarky answer.

just for a second. it was barely noticeable, but niki caught it—of course he did. his smirk curled wider, sharp like a secret as he watched his twin. riki looked clueless to the whole ordeal, continuing to ramble on about his oh so clever parchment charm.

you rolled your eyes and shoved past them, but the both of them followed after you. niki trailed behind while riki raced in front—walking backward with that same stupid grin on his face.

"so touchy, juicebox. it's almost like you like the attention."

you stopped in your tracks. "attention? oh, please. the only thing i want from you two is a hundred foot radius and a silencing charm."

"funny," niki said, suddenly appearing at your side. "because we were just talking about how cute you looked tripping over your robes the other day."

you whirled around, "that was your fault!"

"was it?" riki blinked innocently.

"you hexed my laces!"

"proof?" he shrugged. "all i saw was a very clumsy gryffindor flailing like a baby unicorn."

"you two are actual demons," you hissed.

niki leaned closer slightly, tone mock-thoughtful, "well, we are slytherins."

"you're not even clever about it," you muttered. "you just cause chaos for fun."

"no," riki said brightly, "we cause chaos for you. it's more fun that way."

you spun on your heel before you could say something truly unhinged. you didn't have time to argue with two overgrown toddlers with god complexes.

𓆙

october 4th

it started with a pair of shoes.

or more accurately, it started with your spell.

you weren't going to just let it go after the broom incident. spiraling mid-air like some rogue snitch while niki and riki cackled from the ground? humiliating. and when you stormed back to the castle with your hair windblown and dignity shattered, their smug little wave sealed your fate.

so, obviously, you broke into the slytherin dormitory.

well, technically, you had help—sooyun from your herbology class owed you a favor. she distracted the prefect while you slipped in with a batch of charmed potion vials and a very devious plan.

you hexed their shoes. all of them.

any footwear owned by the nishimura twins now oozed bright green slime with every step. thick. cold. loud. and best of all? impossible to clean without a specific counter-curse you'd invented yourself—with the help from your mothers spell book of course,

you were proud. smug, even.

for five glorious hours, you basked in the chaos. watching from across the great hall as the two of them slid into breakfast, trying to act like their shoes weren't leaking goo all over the marble floors. riki nearly fell three times. niki slipped on his way to the jam. professor mcgonagall nearly passed out when she saw the mess. cleaning after them with a cleaning charm.

but then lunch rolled around and everything went to hell.

you walked into the great hall like a queen, shoulders squared, practically glowing with self-satisfaction.

you didn't even see it coming.

one second you were reaching for a plate of roast chicken—and the next, your goblet exploded.

not shattered. exploded.

pumpkin juice shot straight up into your face like a geyser. your hair clung to your forehead. your robes were soaked. the entire table went silent—and then burst out laughing.

you turned your head slowly, dripping and fuming—and there they were.

niki and riki, seated at the slytherin table, raising their goblets in a toast. matching grins. devil eyes. smug bastards.

you stood up, slamming your hands on the table.

"you absolute, inbred ferrets!"

gasps. shrieks. a few cheers from your fellow gryffindors.

riki leaned back lazily in his seat. "now, now, juicebox—language."

"oh, shove it!" you shouted, marching toward their table. "you think you're so clever? slime in your socks wasn't enough for you?"

niki raised an eyebrow. "ah. a confession. we were wondering who did that," he deadpans, his mouth falling into a grim line.

"please," you snapped, pumpkin juice dripping on the stone floor. "you knew it was me."

"of course," riki said cheerfully, his eyes squinting as he grins. "but it's nice to hear you say it."

you were fuming. your fists clenched. your eyes narrowed. "i swear to merlin, one more prank—one more—and i'm going to hex your brooms straight into the forbidden forest."

"cute threat," niki said, standing up slowly—straightening his crisp robes. he stepped around the table, cocky as ever, closing the distance between you infuriatingly calm. "but you should know by now. if you prank us—"

"—we prank you back," riki finished, appearing at your other side.

they were testing you. again.

you hated when they did that.

"you're obsessed," you muttered, eyes flicking between them. "this is actual harassment."

"say it louder," niki smirked.

"i'm going to scream," you hissed.

"go ahead," riki said. "maybe we'll finally find out if your voice cracks under pressure."

you glared at him. "i know yours does, squeaker."

"my voice is not squeaky, j—" the blonde boy squeaks. puberty was not his friend.

"you're both delusional," you cut in. "and annoying. and—" "charming?" niki offered, eyebrow raised.

"psychotic."

"close enough."

the three of you stood in the middle of the great hall, dripping juice and oozing slime, locked in a standoff of pure chaos. you huffed, not having enough patience to deal with the twerps.

you stormed out of the great hall, soaked in pumpkin juice and murder in your eyes.

you could still hear them laughing behind you. of course they followed. they always followed.

"gryffindor's going rogue," riki sang, voice echoing through the empty corridor.

"she's gonna cry," niki added, footsteps trailing too close behind. "should we get her a tissue?"

you spun around so fast they nearly collided into you. "what is wrong with you two?" you snapped, flinging juice droplets as you gestured wildly. "do you not have hobbies? friends? actual lives?!"

niki blinked, mock offended. "i have friends."

"name one," you deadpanned.

he paused, "...riki."

"pathetic."

"she's being mean again," riki whispered, fake-wounded as he holds his twin in comfort.

"someone should hex her to teach her a lesson," niki said with a slow grin.

you stared between them. dripping. humiliated. and vibrating with rage.

"i swear," you hissed, "if you say one more thing—"

"what?" riki leaned in, smirking. "gonna cry, juicebo—"

BANG.

a spark of pink light shot from your wand and hit him square in the chest. niki barely had time to gasp before you whipped around and hit him too.

they both froze.

then—PPFFFFT.

a loud, wet fart echoed in the stone hallway.

riki looked horrified. "what the—PRRFFFFT—did you do?!"

you crossed your arms, smug as you hold in your laughter, "hexed you. now every time you talk, you fart."

FRRRPPPT.

"this is childish," niki muttered—and immediately let out a high-pitched BBBRRRP that echoed off the walls.

you grinned. "oh, i'm sorry, didn't quite get that. could you repeat that?" riki stared at you like you'd just kicked his cat. "you—you can't—PHHHHHHHT—this isn't funny!"

"oh, it's hilarious," you said sweetly. "i should've done this weeks ago."

"reverse it," niki growled, cheeks red as another small toot slipped out.

you tilted your head. "hmm. no."

they both groaned. every attempt to argue was punctuated by another awful sound.

"what spell is this?" riki gasped, in between helpless blasts of magical flatulence. "who even invents this?!"

you smiled like the sun. "a genius. obviously." your mother.

they looked so offended. so betrayed. it was beautiful. you turned on your heel and strutted down the hallway like you were on the bloody catwalk—soaked in juice, but victorious.

behind you, you heard a faint, desperate voice:

"we're gonna get you back for this—BRRRFFFFPT!—juicebox!"

you didn't even flinch, "try me, gasbags."

you thought you had seen the last of them for the day, only to see them a few hours later.

detention. again.

and of course, they were here too.

detention was something you faced almost every day, the prank war between you and the twins not going unnoticed by mcgonagall.

you sat at one end of the dungeon classroom, arms crossed, glaring daggers into the ancient desk in front of you while a slow, steady drip from the ceiling echoed like a countdown to your final nerve snapping.

"can you two stop breathing so loud?" you snapped.

"we're not breathing loud," riki said—and immediately let out a soft but undeniable frrrrt.

you choked on a laugh, biting your lip hard. niki groaned beside him. "this is torture."

"you hexed us," riki whined, muffled slightly as he hunched lower over the desk. "and now we're stuck with you for two hours, smelling our own shame."

"you should've thought about that before the juice explosion," you muttered, smirking to yourself.

"you're cruel," niki said—and another toot slipped out.

you were thriving. professor filch, who'd been dozing in the corner with his feet up, snorted awake. "quiet down or i'll make you scrub the toilet drains."

you and the twins shut up immediately. for about thirty seconds.

then riki shifted in his seat, trying to adjust without making noise—but the wood groaned under him, and so did his body. PPFFRRRT.

you lost it.

you covered your mouth with both hands, shoulders shaking as silent laughter overtook you. niki caught you laughing and immediately glared. "you think this is funny?"

"objectively," you snorted, "yes."

he leaned across the desk, eyes narrowed. "you're not getting away with this."

"oh no," you gasped in mock horror. "am i gonna be pranked again?"

"you'll regret this."

you rolled your eyes. "you say that every time, and yet here we are. you, gassy. me, flawless."

"flawless?" riki scoffed. "you're covered in dried juice and smell like a haunted pumpkin patch."

"you smell like guilt and shame," you shot back. "and farts."

his mouth opened—and another loud BRRRTTT echoed. you cackled. filch shifted in his sleep. niki slapped a hand over his own mouth before he could speak. you all sat in silence for a few minutes. a tense, awkward, fart-filled silence.

until finally, you muttered, "you guys can't seriously be mad. you've done way worse to me." you felt a tad bit guilty, just a tad.

"yeah, but this was personal," riki mumbled.

"oh, and glitter in my shampoo wasn't?"

"okay," niki said slowly, grinning when he remembers how you showed up to potions with disco ball hair , "that was kind of funny."

"i went to charms class looking like a disco ball!"

"a cute disco ball," riki offered, his face turning pink when he realizes the words that just came out of his mouth.

you blinked, not sure if you heard them right. "excuse me?" niki elbowed his brother, hard. "shut up."

you stared between them, suspicious. "what was that?"

"nothing," they said in unison, giving each other glares.

you narrowed your eyes. "if you're planning something, just know—i'm always ten steps ahead."

"noted," riki said, scribbling on a parchment with fake seriousness. "note to self: juicebox thinks she's smart."

"note to you," you hissed, "i'll hex your armpits next if you try anything."

niki gave you a low, amused look. "getting creative with your threats now?"

you leaned in slightly. "you haven't seen creative yet."

the air shifted. just a little.

and maybe it was the dungeon heat, or the fact that detention forced you to share the same air as them for hours—but for a second, your eyes locked with niki's too long. then riki's. then back again.

no one said anything. not a word.

and then—

ppppfffffttttt.

you snorted so hard you nearly fell out of your chair. detention was hell, and you were enjoying every second of it.

𓆙

december 15th

the thing about christmas at hogwarts was that it was too perfect.

soft snow fell in perfect sheets across the castle grounds. garlands strung themselves across banisters. carols floated through the halls—charmed to be just loud enough to be festive but not annoying. students were bundled in cozy scarves and sipping cocoa like they were in some wizarding world postcard.

it made you nervous. you knew better.

peace meant the twins were planning something.

so when you woke up to a sparkling note hovering over your bed, blinking red and green in annoyingly cheerful script, you groaned before you even read it.

"hope you're not too attached to your christmas gifts. xoxo."

your eyes narrowed.

another note dropped gently onto your pillow as if mocking you.

"p.s. check the common room. – santa's favorite snakes."

"you've got to be kidding me," you muttered.

you stormed out of bed in your slippers and pyjamas, hair a mess and wand already in hand.

the gryffindor common room was chaos.

your stack of carefully-wrapped presents from home? gone.

in their place stood an obnoxiously large candy cane sculpture—charmed to sparkle and hum christmas tunes when you got near it. floating above it in dazzling fairy lights:

"come and find them. happy hunting."

"i am going to drown them both in eggnog," you seethed, fists clenching as you begin to imagine what kinds of hexes you'd spit at them.

"is that thing humming mariah carey?" your dormmate asked, eyes wide—hair messy.

"yes," you growled. "i'm going to burn it."

-

you spent the entire day running around the castle on a glitter-drenched scavenger hunt, dodging booby traps and magical chaos.

your new jumper from your mum? stuck to the ceiling of the charms classroom, charmed to sing in a tone-deaf falsetto every time you tried to summon it.

your chocolate frogs? all bewitched to scream when opened. the whole slytherin table burst out laughing when you unwrapped one and it shrieked, "PUT ME DOWN YOU MONSTER!!"

and the handmade scarf from your aunt? it appeared at breakfast tied around the neck of a very confused first-year toad, who croaked mournfully every time someone tried to remove it.

you were drenched in melted snow, covered in glitter, and beyond furious by midafternoon.

and of course, they made sure to show up just when you were at your wits' end—leaning against walls in synchronized smugness, watching the chaos unfold like it was their own private holiday special.

"you're glowing with festive rage," riki said as you stomped past him in the library. niki snickered, walking backwards in front of you. "how's the scavenger hunt?"

"i'm going to shove a sleigh bell so far up your—"

"someone's not feeling the holiday spirit," he cut in, fake pouting.

you hexed a pile of snow to fall on his head. he laughed. of course.

-

it took all day, but you finally tracked down the last gift. the enchanted note left with it said only:

"your prize awaits in the astronomy tower. come alone. no cheating."

you debated ignoring it. but pride wouldn't let you leave it unfinished. and also—you were going to make them pay for this.

you climbed the snowy spiral staircase to the tower just before sunset, wind biting your cheeks and fingers.

and there it was.

floating in the center of the open-air platform: your last gift, perfectly wrapped, tied to a delicate sprig of mistletoe. it dangled midair, gently turning in the breeze.

you narrowed your eyes.

"...this is so a trap."

but before you could cast anything, a voice behind you said, "you made it."

you turned sharply to see niki step onto the platform, gloved hands in his pockets, scarf wrapped high around his neck.

you blinked. "what, just you?"

"riki's in the kitchens, trying to charm a pudding to explode."

"of course he is."

he nodded toward the gift. "that one's real, by the way. you earned it."

you raised an eyebrow. "and the mistletoe?"

"also real."

"...is it cursed?"

"define cursed."

you groaned and moved toward the floating present, reaching up cautiously—but the second your fingers touched the ribbon, the mistletoe flashed bright red and a sweet, enchanted voice rang out above you.

"mistletoe match detected! kiss or be cursed!"

you froze.

niki froze.

the glowing text shimmered brighter, "5 seconds to comply..."

"you absolute dickhead," you hissed.

"i swear i didn't do this," niki said, holding his hands up, but his grin was already breaking through. "this one was all riki."

"of course it was. that little gremlin—"

"4..."

"do something!"

"what, like override an ancient mistletoe charm? i'm not dumbledore."

"3..."

"i'm not kissing you."

"curse it is, then."

"2..."

you glared at him, no way in hell did he think you were going to kiss him. he only smiled wider.

"1—"

screw it.

you grabbed his scarf, yanked him forward, and smacked a kiss on his cheek with as much sass as you could muster.

"there," you said, shoving him back. "kissed. happy?" you could feel your cheeks burn as you look anywhere but him, swallowing harshly as you focus on the ground.

niki blinked. his ears were red.

"...you kissed me."

"on the cheek, don't get weird."

"little festive kiss," he said, smirking now. "should've gone for the lips."

you scoffed, "my fist will go for your lips, twerp."  you turned, snatched your gift from the mistletoe, and stormed toward the stairs.

"don't make me shove you off the tower!" you called behind you.

"merry christmas to you too, juicebox ," he called back.

you didn't turn around.

but you were smiling.

just a little.

𓆙

december 16th

you'd almost made it through the day.

you'd survived the slytherin smirks, the floating "sweetheart of house snake" banner, and niki's infuriating wink across the great hall that made your porridge boil in its bowl.

but riki? he'd been suspiciously quiet.

no hexed scrolls. no cursed candy canes. not even one magically farting snowman.

which meant, of course, something was coming. and it hit the moment you stepped into the gryffindor common room.

literally.

a burst of glitter exploded in your face as soon as you crossed the threshold, coating you from head to toe in sparkling red and green dust.

"what the actual—"

before you could even blink the sparkles from your eyes, the air around you filled with a soft chime. dozens of tiny mistletoe sprigs bloomed from thin air, enchanted and floating down in a gentle spiral like snow.

a voice—high-pitched and obnoxiously cheerful—echoed around the common room: "this kiss has been overdue. please redirect your attention to the hallway."

your jaw dropped. "you've got to be kidding me."

you turned—and there he was.

riki.

leaning against the open doorway like he owned the bloody corridor, arms crossed, scarf loose around his neck, one eyebrow arched high.

"what," you snapped, brushing glitter from your sweater, "the hell is this?"

he didn't answer right away.

instead, he slowly pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, dragging the toe of his boot against the rug like he had all the time in the world.

"you kissed niki."

you froze.

"it was on the cheek—"

"still counts."

"it was to avoid a curse!"

"and i'm cursed now too. emotionally."

you blinked. "are you—are you serious right now?"

riki nodded solemnly. "deeply wounded. hurt. betrayed. publicly humiliated. do you know how it felt watching my twin get a festive smooch while i got nothing?"

you stared at him, stunned.

he took another step closer, mistletoe twinkling above your head.

"you know," he said casually, "it's only fair you balance the scales."

you laughed—sharp and disbelieving. "fair? this is about fairness? you can get any one of your slimy slytherin "girlfriends" to give you a kiss," you hiss.

"you hurt me, gryffindor," he said dramatically, ignoring what you had just said and placing a hand over his heart. "and the only cure... is a kiss."

you gave him a flat look. "you are not using a fake heartbreak act to guilt me into—"

"the glitter says otherwise," he interrupted, gesturing to the still-sparkling mess all around you. "do you know how long it took to charm this?"

"you're insane."

"only for holiday justice."

you huffed, marching up to him until your boots nearly bumped his. "fine. fine, you absolute lunatic. you want a kiss?"

his eyes lit up. "i do."

"then stand still."

"i am still."

"you're vibrating."

"it's the anticipation."

you rolled your eyes, grabbed the front of his robes—and planted a kiss to his cheek. quick, annoyed, aggressive.

it left a glitter print behind.

you pulled away fast.

"happy now?"

riki blinked, then grinned.

"eh," he said. "cheek again? feels lazy. you already did that to niki."

you narrowed your eyes. "don't push it."

"too late," he chirped. "you owe me properly."

"i owe you a slap, maybe—"

but he'd already leaned in close—too close—and said in a low, too-soft voice, "you didn't think this was over, did you?"

you blinked, his eyes dropped to your mouth for half a second.

then the glitter around you burst again—popped, really—showering you both in red dust as the enchanted voice shouted:

"kiss denied! emotional damage increasing by the second!" you snorted, startled into laughing despite yourself.

riki gave you a look—mock-offended and dramatic. "see what you've done? you've broken the holiday spirit."

"good."

"the mistletoe is judging you."

you sighed, wiped glitter from your lips, and groaned. "you are exhausting."

"you're glittery."

"you're about to be hexed."

"but you kissed me."

"on the cheek. again."

he smirked, leaning back slightly, eyes still twinkling.

"it's fine," he said, already turning toward the door. "you'll get it right next time."

you blinked. "next time?"

he tossed you a wink over his shoulder.

"just don't leave me hanging again, juicebox."

and with that, he vanished down the hall, leaving you covered in glitter, stunned into silence, and already plotting at least five new ways to ruin his week.

𓆙

march 26th

spring at hogwarts meant a lot of things.

sneezing suits of armor. overexcited pixies in the greenhouses. puddles of melting snow that soaked through your socks before breakfast. but more than anything, it meant the twins got ideas.

dangerous ones.

so when you arrived to herbology ten minutes early for once—bag slung lazily over your shoulder, cheeks warmed by actual sunlight—you let your guard down.

you should've known better.

professor sprout had stepped inside for a moment, and you'd found yourself leaning against one of the benches, humming quietly while you dug through your satchel for a quill.

and that's when it happened.

you reached in and your hand wrapped around petals.

soft, damp, disturbingly squishy petals.

you frowned, tugged them free—and yanked out a full-on bouquet of white daisies, enchanted to sparkle faintly around the edges.

you blinked, they blinked back.

and then—

"ACHOO!"

the flowers sneezed on you.

a thick, glittery puff of yellow pollen burst in your face, coating your skin, your robes, and your hair in a sneeze-inducing cloud.

you coughed, waving your hand wildly. "what the—is this cursed?!"

laughter rang out from across the greenhouse.

not just any laugh.

riki's.

you looked up, eyes watering, and found him perched smugly on the edge of a planter box, legs swinging, mouth curled in a grin so wide it should've been illegal.

"did you just—did you hex flowers to sneeze on me?!"

"they're festive," he replied, mock-innocent. "i read somewhere daisies symbolize purity. thought you could use a little."

you nearly choked on your next sneeze, "you absolute toad-faced cockroach."

riki's grin widened. "now, now. name-calling? i thought gryffindors were above that."

"you're getting hexed."

"and you're glowing. look at you! pollen chic."

"i hope your next potion explodes in your face."

"i hope you fall in a puddle and ruin those awful shoes."

you lobbed one of the cursed daisies directly at his head. it bounced off his cheek and sneezed again.

riki ducked behind a shrub, laughing as you launched the rest of the bouquet after him like a pollen-covered grenade.

-

you did not forget.

in fact, you spent all of dinner plotting your revenge.

the next night, after confirming with the house-elves that riki did in fact sneak down to the kitchens after curfew for snacks, you set your trap.

spring-themed cookies.

pretty, delicate, pastel pink and lavender. shaped like butterflies and baby bunnies and cheerful little flowers. absolutely disgusting.

the secret?

a charm brewed from a shrill-whistle potion—every bite would make the eater's voice pitch up an octave until they sounded like a lovesick puffskein on helium.

you left them outside the slytherin common room.

a little sign stuck in the icing: to the prettier twin. from your biggest admirer.

he took the bait.

hard.

the next morning, the great hall was chaos.

you spotted him the moment he walked in. his hair was damp like he'd just showered, scarf askew, and he was gesturing wildly as he talked to niki—

only his voice came out in a squeak. a high-pitched, painfully nasal squeak, "—i swear i only ate like two, maybe three!"

half the slytherin table was in hysterics.

you sat casually at the gryffindor table, sipping your pumpkin juice with no innocence whatsoever.

niki caught your eye from across the room, doubled over laughing.

riki looked around, finally spotting you. your smug, satisfied expression told him everything.

he stormed over, cheeks flushed red—not from embarrassment, no, but rage. pure, squeaky, humiliated rage.

"what—did—you—do—" he squeaked.

you blinked up at him, all sugary sweetness. "hmm?"

"my voice! i sound like a pixie in puberty!"

"sounds like a you problem."

he stared, horrified. "you poisoned me."

"i baked you cookies. you're welcome."

riki narrowed his eyes, voice breaking into a whistle. "this isn't over, gryffindor."

you leaned your elbow on the table, resting your chin in your palm.

"it never is."

-

later that day, you passed each other in the corridor between classes. no one else around.

he bumped your shoulder, just hard enough to make you stumble.

you shoved him back.

"still squeaking?"

"still annoying?"

you paused for half a second. "you are kind of cute when you're mad."

he blinked, clearly caught off-guard. "you think i'm cute?"

"no," you said immediately. "i think you're cursed."

and you walked off, biting back your smile.

behind you, riki was still standing there, pink-cheeked and completely flustered—for once without a comeback.

𓆙

march 29th

you should've known the twins wouldn't let the cookie debacle go unpunished.

for a blissful three days, everything was suspiciously calm. no enchanted flowers, no cursed quills, no sneezing portraits in your dormitory.

you'd even dared to think—just for a second—that they'd finally given up.

and then you opened your charms textbook and every single word was gone.

like, completely vanished. blank pages. from cover to cover.

you blinked once. twice. then let out a slow, venomous, "you've got to be kidding me."

you heard laughter from behind you, the kind that made your eye twitch. you turned—of course it was them.

niki and riki, identical smirks, identical smugness, sitting two rows back with their wands tucked oh-so-innocently behind their ears.

"something wrong, gryffindork?" niki asked, leaning forward, voice dripping with false concern.

"you look like you've seen a ghost," riki added, all mock sympathy.

you slammed your book shut, spun in your seat, and glared. "what did you do to my charms book?"

niki blinked at you, feigning confusion. "nothing at all. maybe it's shy."

"my textbook is not shy!"

riki tilted his head, pretending to think. "well, you do yell at it a lot. maybe it finally decided to leave."

"i—what—i don't yell at my book!"

"you're yelling now," he pointed out, grinning.

you opened your mouth, then closed it again, resisting the urge to throw something. professor flitwick was just a few feet away, and detention was already basically your second home.

"you two are evil," you muttered.

"thank you," niki said cheerfully.

-

after class, you waited until they left, grabbed your bag, and headed for the library. madame pince gave you a look that said don't even breathe too loudly, and you slipped between the stacks until you found an empty corner to test some counter-charms.

you had just started muttering "revelio scriptum" when a low voice spoke from behind you.

"you missed a spot."

you turned around—and there was riki, holding your missing words. literally. the ink from your book was floating in midair beside him, shaped into little sentences, swirling lazily like it was mocking you.

"give that back," you snapped.

he shrugged. "technically, it's not yours. it's free now."

"riki."

"say please."

you glared. "i'd rather swallow a broomstick."

"you probably would. gryffindors love dramatic gestures."

you stomped up to him, wand raised. "fine. we're doing this the hard way."

"oh no," he said, tone amused. "not the hard way."

you flicked your wand—and the floating ink shot straight at his face.

riki froze, now covered in black splatters across his chin and cheeks. he blinked, slowly wiped his face, then looked up at you.

you tried not to laugh.

failed spectacularly.

"you look like a blotchy niffler!" you wheezed.

"you're so dead," he said, lunging.

you shrieked, darting behind a table as he grabbed for your quill case, trying to smear his inky hand on your robes.

"don't—!" you ducked, barely avoiding him as you both nearly toppled a stack of parchment.

madame pince's hiss echoed across the library. "OUT!"

you and riki froze mid-grapple, still holding each other's sleeves. slowly, you turned to look at the furious librarian.

"she started it," he said immediately.

"he ruined my book!"

"she hexed my face!"

"you deserved it!"

madame pince's glare could've melted steel. "detention. both of you."

you groaned. riki smiled sweetly at you as you stomped toward the door.

"at least we'll get to spend more time together," he said.

"i'd rather duel a troll," you shot back.

"you already are," he replied, smirking.

detention. again.

you were beginning to think your name had been carved into professor filch's punishment list permanently.

the man was currently dragging his mop down the corridor, muttering under his breath about "troublemaking little gremlins" while you and riki trailed behind, both glaring at each other.

"honestly," filch grumbled, "if i had a galleon for every time one of you brats destroyed something in the library, i could retire and buy a cottage in france."

"you should," you said sweetly. "it'd make everyone very happy."

riki snorted loudly.

filch turned, narrow eyes landing on you both. "you'll be cleaning the trophy room tonight. by hand. no magic. and if i see one speck of dust left, i'll have you polishing the ceiling tiles next."

he stomped away, muttering something about needing stronger tea.

you turned to riki the moment filch disappeared around the corner. "this is your fault."

he gasped dramatically. "my fault? you attacked me with sentient ink!"

"you stole my words!"

"you talk enough without them."

"say that again and i'll shove a trophy up your—"

"language, gryffindor," he interrupted, grinning. "filch said no magic, not no sass."

you groaned, grabbed a rag, and started wiping down one of the many dusty plaques. the room smelled like metal polish and old glory. every time you rubbed too hard, the rag squeaked, making it sound like the trophy was screaming.

you paused, frowned. "why does it sound like the trophy's in pain?"

riki, who was stacking awards into a crooked pile, shrugged. "maybe it's haunted. maybe it's your fault."

"maybe i'll haunt you."

"joke's on you, i'd make an excellent ghost."

you rolled your eyes. "you'd annoy everyone in the afterlife."

"especially you."

"oh my god—"

"language," he said again, smirking.

-

an hour later, your arms hurt, your hands smelled like lemon polish, and you were this close to throwing a quidditch cup at his head.

riki, of course, had somehow made cleaning into a performance. he was polishing a seeker's trophy while humming—loudly—and using it as a mirror.

"you're staring," he said suddenly.

you snapped your gaze away. "i am not!"

"you were."

"you're literally singing to your reflection!"

"well," he said, polishing it with mock flourish, "someone's got to appreciate me."

you groaned. "you have the ego of a blast-ended skrewt."

"thank you."

"that wasn't a compliment!"

"it was in my language," he said cheerfully.

you squinted. "you speak idiot?"

"fluently."

you stared at him for a moment, then smirked. "that explains so much."

after another ten minutes of bickering, you both somehow managed to finish half the room. filch still hadn't returned, which felt suspicious.

riki leaned against a display case, inspecting your work. "you missed a spot."

you turned slowly. "no, i didn't."

"right there," he said, pointing just above your head. "you see it? dust."

you glared. "there's nothing there."

"no, really, i insist."

you raised your rag threateningly. "if i look and there's no dust, i'm hitting you."

he grinned. "worth it."

you stood on your toes, peering up—and smack! he flicked a bit of polish right onto your nose.

you froze. "did you just—?"

riki was already backing up, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "you look like a flobberworm with allergies!"

you lunged. "i'm going to murder you!"

the next thirty seconds were pure chaos—rags flying, polish splattering across half the trophy case, you chasing him around like a rabid niffler. one of the trophies actually fell off its stand and rolled under a cabinet.

you both froze.

riki looked at the missing trophy. then at you.

"...we're dead," he said finally.

you nodded solemnly. "definitely."

there was a pause. then he snorted.

you tried not to laugh. failed. within seconds, you were both wheezing like you'd inhaled a laughing potion, surrounded by a room full of semi-clean, slightly dented trophies.

filch returned ten minutes later, stared at the disaster, and groaned so loudly a ghost in the next corridor wailed in sympathy.

"detention. again. both of you."

you didn't even care this time. as filch dragged you both away by the elbows, riki leaned toward you and whispered, "worth it."

"you're insufferable," you muttered.

he grinned. "you like me."

"you're lucky murder's illegal."

"see? you do."

𓆙

may 23rd

it all started with a single chocolate frog.

to be clear, it was your chocolate frog. you bought it. you unwrapped it. you were about to eat it.

and then it hopped away.

you blinked as it sprang off the table, landed on your open charms book, and bounced straight toward the slytherin table.

"no, no, no—come back!" you hissed, lunging after it.

you almost made it too, but right as you dove across the floor, a pair of shoes stepped squarely on the frog's shadow.

you looked up, of course.

riki.

he had his hands in his pockets, grinning like a gremlin. "lost something?"

"give it back."

he bent down, scooping the frog up by its sugary leg. the thing gave an indignant ribbit! and tried to escape again.

riki held it just out of reach. "hmm. finders keepers?"

"that's mine!"

niki appeared beside him, munching on a licorice wand. "technically, it's hopping. doesn't really belong to anyone now."

"you're both menaces."

riki turned the frog over, squinting at the wrapper. "what card did you get?"

"doesn't matter," you said quickly, trying to grab it. "i want the frog."

"oh," he said slowly, lips curling into a smirk. "so it's not about the chocolate. it's about the principle."

"it's about you being awful!"

he laughed, tossing the frog lightly from hand to hand as you jumped to snatch it back. you missed every time.

"stop moving!"

"stop being slow!"

niki leaned on the table, unbothered. "this is better than watching quidditch practice."

"you two are evil incarnate," you snapped, glaring between them.

"we prefer 'innovative,'" riki said, still dodging your attempts. "tell you what—say 'slytherins are the best house' and i'll give it back."

"never."

"come on. just once."

"i'd rather eat a cauldron cake off the floor."

he tilted his head, fake thoughtful. "tempting offer."

you lunged again. he dodged again.

the frog finally escaped his hands, leaping across the table—and straight into professor mcgonagall's teacup.

the entire table went silent.

mcgonagall blinked. looked down at her tea. then at you three.

you froze mid-grab. riki's grin vanished.

"...explain," she said calmly.

riki opened his mouth. "uh—"

"detention," she said immediately.

you ended up scrubbing cauldrons in the potions classroom that evening—again—with both twins.

"this is your fault," you said flatly, elbow-deep in soap suds.

"technically," riki said, "it's the frog's fault."

niki nodded seriously. "tragic casualty of war."

"you two should form a club," you muttered. "the complete lack of accountability society."

"want to join?" riki asked. "you'd be a great vice president."

"i'll hex your hair green."

"already is," he said, grinning. "you're losing your touch, gryffindor."

later that night, as you all left the dungeon, you spotted something shiny tucked into your bag. a single chocolate frog. your name scribbled on the wrapper in messy handwriting:

fine. you win this one. —riki

you rolled your eyes, but your lips betrayed you—curving into the smallest smile.

𓆙

june 29th

the castle always felt weirdly empty on the last day of term. trunks clattered down staircases, owls hooted from the rafters, and everyone ran around trading last-minute sweets like it was the black market for sugar.

you, however, had one final mission: survive the day without a single prank from the twins.

you were doing so well. no exploding ink. no charmed shoes. no glitter frogs. nothing suspicious for nearly twelve whole hours.

which, of course, meant something was definitely wrong.

you glanced down the corridor toward the slytherin table in the great hall. niki and riki were there—suspiciously quiet, whispering over their plates.

"don't do it," your friend mumbled beside you.

"don't what?"

"whatever you're about to do. don't."

you sighed. "i just want to know what they're plotting."

by the time lunch rolled around, you still hadn't found out—and that made it worse. you couldn't concentrate on your pumpkin pasty, kept looking over your shoulder like they'd hex your food any second.

finally, you decided to play offense. you slipped out of the hall, down the corridor, and into the courtyard, where a few older students were already showing off end-of-year fireworks.

that's when you saw it. a banner—a massive one—being pinned magically above the entrance doors by two very familiar idiots.

"'goodbye gryffindorks—thanks for the free entertainment!'" you read aloud. the letters flashed in alternating red and green.

niki jumped, spinning around mid-spell. "oh. fancy seeing you here."

you folded your arms. "really? that's your big finale?"

riki grinned. "we thought it was tasteful."

"you spelled 'entertainment' wrong."

"...did we?"

you pointed up. "'enterainment.'"

niki groaned. "riki, you said you checked it!"

"i did! i just didn't spell-check it!"

you raised a brow. "wow. first-year slytherins who can't spell. truly the pride of your house."

riki narrowed his eyes. "mocking us? bold move when we still have fireworks."

your eyes widened. "what fireworks?"

he snapped his fingers.

for half a glorious second, the banner lit up in sparkles—and then the entire charm misfired.

the letters exploded into a cloud of glitter and red smoke, raining sparkly confetti over the entire courtyard. your hair turned silver. niki's eyebrows vanished. riki's robe caught fire at the hem.

"IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE GREEN!" he yelled, stomping the sparks out.

you were laughing so hard you couldn't breathe. "oh—oh my god—you look like a demented fairy!"

niki coughed through glitter. "it's—fine—it's festive!"

"you two look like you lost a fight with a christmas tree!"

professor mcgonagall appeared through the smoke, eyes narrowing at the sight of three first-years covered in sparkles and ash.

"...do i even want to know?"

"no," all three of you said at once.

she pinched the bridge of her nose. "five points each. go pack."

that night, on the train home, you found a folded bit of parchment tucked inside your bag.

a note written in familiar messy handwriting:

for the record, we meant to spell it wrong. consider it modern art. —the geniuses of slytherin

you smiled, shaking your head, and reached into your trunk. their luggage, it turned out, wasn't safe either.

because while they'd been busy blowing themselves up in glitter, you'd quietly switched their shampoo with a color-changing potion.

by the time the train pulled into king's cross, both twins had bright magenta hair.

and the moment they saw their reflections, their screams echoed through the station loud enough to scare three owls and a small child.

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