Prank Wars & Candy Stores

“I only agreed on doing one, single prank with you, not learning everything,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She stared at everything in the room like it was poison.

“But you have to know your tools first before you do anything,” George said.

“Then show me the one thing we have to use for this prank, and then let me be,” she said.

“What’s the fun in that?” both twins asked in unison.

“Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?” they said again in unison.

“That…the twin thing,” Adele said.

“We can’t exactly –“ George started.

“Help it,” Fred finished.

“Well, try,” she said, staring at the two. She realized then that she never did know how to tell the two apart. She looked from one to the other, trying to figure out a trick to figuring out which twin was which.

“You’re never gonna get it, dear,” George said. “We’re quite hard to tell apart.” He had a smirk on his face then.

“Only we know the trick; then again, we’re always with each other so of course we can tell us apart,” Fred said. George stood close to Adele, who thought maybe, just maybe her Veela charm was kicking in. She smiled up at him sweetly. But it should’ve kicked in a while ago. Maybe she did have to work harder with this one. Such a shame...

“And you’re going to tell me, right?” she asked innocently.

“That depends; what would I get if I told you?” George asked.

“What would you want from me?” Adele asked, her arms falling to her sides then. Her piercing blue eyes directly met his. Fred snickered from behind George.

“What would you be willing to do?” George asked, ignoring his brother. Adele had the vague idea of where this was going, but she didn’t want to think too much on it.

“Aren’t we supposed to be teaching her our prankster ways?” Fred asked, interrupting the moment.

“Bugger off, Fred,” George said, not taking his eyes off her. “We’ll do that after she figures out which one we are. I mean, would you want to be called me?”

Fred laughed then, “Mum does that already!”

“Well, do we want a pretty girl messing us up?”

“Eh, I s'pose not,” he replied.

“Exactly,” he said, before speaking to Adele again. “Now... your answer?”

"I'm afraid, monsieur, that I do not have very much to offer."

George half-smiled at her. "Can we agree on a Butterbeer in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Adele didn't understand what he was talking about. Butterbeer? Hogsmeade? These words seemed so foreign to her, or, probably more so, she was the foreign one.

"Don' think she agrees, mate," Fred said to his brother with a chuckle, breaking Adele from her distracted state.

"No, it's not that," Adele argued. "I just... I don't understand."

George furrowed his brow. "Like a date. You know? Go out for a drink, talk a little bit. And when I bring you back to the common room, I'll tell you the secret to telling us apart."

"Oh." A smile crept upon her face as she studied him. "Sounds lovely."

"Tonight, maybe?"

"Oui."

"I'll pick you up later then."

She nodded, and as he walked away she began to giggle. Truth be told, tonight's rendez-vous was now rather unnecessary because, just a few moments ago, Adele had noticed the tiniest scar on the bridge of George's nose.