My Beautiful Blackbird.

Six days later, Wednesday, September 7th, 1994
“-and therefore, the Draught of Living Death is an extremely difficult potion to procure, not to mention dangerous. If brewed wrong, this potion can-”
My eyes began to close as I faded in and out, jolting upright every time I was about to fall asleep. This was ridiculous; Snape had been lecturing us on this potion for some twenty minutes, rather than having us brew it.
“Hard time staying awake?” George whispered in my ear. I felt chills run down my spine and- wait, what?
“Erm- yeah, something like that.” I muttered awkwardly. He chuckled quietly and went back to planning out our next line of sweets in his notebook, which would apparently make you vomit. I would definitely not become the guinea pig for that one; I hated vomiting.
I decided to shrug off what had happened and focus more on Snape, hoping to take my mind off of it.
“Now I will have you brew this potion, but be warned,” Snape continued. “There will be no tomfoolery, no messing around and definitely-” He looked over at the three of us. “No mischief.”
The three of us snickered as he glared at us, obviously wanting to rip our heads off. Out of all of us I'd say he hated me the most.
“Five points from Gryffindor.”
We groaned.
“You will find the instructions on page fifteen. You may begin.”
Everyone leaped to their feet, obviously excited to be able to do something other than listening to a boring lecture. All of the ingredients that were needed, as well as our cauldrons, appeared on the desks in front of us. I took out my Advanced Potion Making book and flipped to page fifteen.
“What d'you think's got his knickers in a twist, eh?” Fred questioned.
“Not sure, maybe he ran out of his favorite styling gel.” George commented, pouring the infusion of wormwood into his cauldron. I did the same before adding the powdered root of asphodel.
“So... who do you think will be chosen?” I asked, stirring the brew.
“Hmm... I'd put a good bet on Krum, it wouldn't surprise me if the star Quidditch player competed. And I'd just love to see Ron wet himself over that one.” Fred grinned as he stirred his potion. We laughed.
“I would too.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the twins grin at one another, obviously trying to hide it. I looked over at them; this couldn't be good.
“What?” I commanded. They snickered.
“I'm going to hex the both of you if you don't tell me what you're smiling about.”
George chuckled. “We, uh- we were planning on entering our names into the Goblet this evening.”
I scoffed, throwing a sloth brain into the mixture. “Right, I'm sure.”
“We really are, it's gonna be brilliant.” Fred smiled.
“And how exactly are you planning on doing that? You're sixteen.”
“We have our methods, eh Freddie?” George nudged Fred, who was still smiling.
“Yep.”
I tried to steer to the conversation to Quidditch, hoping they would forget about whatever it was they were planning.
“So are you guys going on the Quidditch team next year?”
“Of course, it wouldn't be the same without us.”
“I'm sure.”
“Your time is up.”
The chattering stopped and the room fell silent, everyone's eyes on Snape.
“I will come around and inspect each of your-” He looked over at a fifth year Hufflepuff, whose potion had exploded in his face, and grimaced. “Concoctions.”
After he had graded everyone's attempts (Fred got an A, George an E and me also an A) we were excused to leave, which meant that it was our free period. Everyone was supposed to use their free periods for homework and Apparation practice, but instead the students flocked to the Great Hall, just to sit and watch the brave contestants submit their names into the Goblet. Fred, George and I did the same.
“I'm concerned.” I said as we walked there. They looked at me.
“And why's that, Blackbird?”
“Because knowing you two this won't be good.”
“Nah, we've planned this perfectly.” George declared. When we got to the doors of the Hall the two of them ran inside, holding up two vials they had each pulled out of their pockets. The substance looked weird, as it was blue and sparkling and definitely looked different. Everyone cheered and clapped as my stomach dropped; an aging potion?
“Ready Fred?”
“Ready George.”
“Bottoms up.”
They drank the potion and jumped over the age line, everyone cheering when they weren't harmed. As soon as they slipped their names into the Goblet, however, they were blasted backward up against the wall, something even Hermione didn't expect.
Suddenly their hair grayed and they grew beards, and my best friends soon looked like two old men. I couldn't help but laugh.
“You said!” Fred yelled.
“You said!”
They began wrestling with each other and acting like idiots, obviously pissed at one another. I laughed and watched as the two old men wrestled, failing miserably as they tried to hurt one another.

How did I end up with these two?