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George and Fred were of two minds about Guy Fawkes day. Not in the sense of each of them having their own opinion about it, rather, that they both felt somewhat conflicted about its celebration.

On the one hand, fire was involved. Excepting the time the twins had accidentally set themselves aflame and had to be put out by the then thirteen year-old and deeply unimpressed Bill, fire was mostly a good thing in the twins's world.

On the other hand, the holiday at least ideally celebrated the continued survival of hierarchy, which seemed contrary to nearly everything the twins valued.

That said, the day was an absolutely fabulous money-maker, and when it came to profits, the twins weren't all that terribly concerned with ideological quibbles. Or much of anything else.

Even with the mass of people who flooded in the shop in the days and weeks preceding the holiday, it was something of a shock to lean over the counter one afternoon and notice Filius Flitwick standing there, patiently levitating his box of firecrackers up to the surface for purchase.

Fred and George grinned. "Hello, professor!"

Flitwick, who, in some ways, had been even more cunning at sniffing their plots out than Snape, smiled back. "Hello, boys."

Fred grabbed the firecrackers. "Something for the holiday?"

"My grandchildren seem to like things that make loud noises," Flitwick said, a touch of resignation filtered through his characteristic easy-going cheer.

George peered at the label on the box. "Those will certainly do, then."

"Just make sure you read the instructions on the back," Fred said.

"We've had some problems," George added.

Flitwick looked at both of them. They each took an involuntary step back from the counter standing between them and their former professor. "Erm, right."

"I don't suppose you boys could give me an 'ingredients list' so to speak? Of what forms the device?"

Fred grinned again. "Why professor-"

"That would be cheating," George told him.

Flitwick slid his money across the counter and picked up the box. "Well, the two of you would certainly know." He gave a tiny shrug. "More fun having to figure it out myself anyway."

Fred and George looked at him nervously.

Flitwick was the one to grin this time. "My grandchildren like noises." He walked a bit before twisting his neck so as to look over his shoulder at the two shopkeepers. "I like puzzles."

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Skin by egelantier, photo by microbophile