George Weasley X Reader (Harry Potter) Fred Weasley X Reader

Rainbow Robes

Y/n P.O.V.

Y/n, 

Hello!  

Blah, Blah, Blah, here's the info I'm divulging for today:

I know you because I am you,

Your steps were once mine, 

I was once in your position

Standing there, and wondering: who?

Yes, I'm bad at poems, but I was writing this quickly to warn you, so you can't judge! 

Your stunt earlier poisoned the water supply and drugged all the food. Don't eat anything!

Merry Christmas, 

Your guardian angel. 

I placed down the letter, looking at the table. How did this person know where I was going to sit at mealtimes? What did the letter mean? Why were they sending these letters? This was frustrating!

I looked around at faces grinning. People sat in a sleepy daze. Chances were, according to the letter, everyone was drugged from the meal. 

Fred and George were in a jolly mood, trying to sell some "banging bottle farts" to the first years. The twin's inventions would get you out of class, guaranteed. 

I watched the people at my table with mild interest, halfheartedly listening to conversations. Setting down my fork, I stretched and yawned. I was not eating this food. 

"You eat already?" The boy next to me asked. I shrugged, undecided. I glanced over at him. He was wearing a red scarf. Was he the one?

"Hey, I heard the pie is really good this year. You should try it!" He reached for the serving utensil, his robe moving dangerously close to the candles placed on the table. On instinct, I reached for his sleeve and moved it out of the way of the flame. 

"You're going to catch on fire if you're not more careful," I said simply as he placed a helping of pie onto my plate. I poked at it with mild interest, staring at the boy as he introduced himself. 

"I'm Maxwell, a 5th year." He greeted me, stretching his arm out for a handshake. I took his hand half-heartedly, as he firmly shook it. His eyes were half glazed, just like the rest of the students. I stared intently into his eyes. They were dark brown, completely different from the golden color of my guardian angel.

I poked at my pie again, pushing it away firmly. I stared angrily at the tablecloth. How could I get my hopes up? Finding my guardian angel wouldn't be that easy!

 Fred and George walked up to me, giant smiles on their faces. "With everyone drugged like this, we're selling the 'Banging Bottle Farts' like crazy!" Fred laughed. 

"Yeah, and we totally didn't have anything to do with it," I countered sarcastically. Their smiles fell as they looked around conspiratorially. 

Max tapped on my shoulder, drawing my attention. "More pie?" He offered, his eyes glazed and the corners of his mouth drooping. 

"Who's this guy?" Fred asked, walking over to him and inspecting him carefully. I shrugged. This boy had never spoken to me before, and he was drugged now, so he wasn't in his right mind. 

I looked at George who held a glimmer in his eye. "Wanna do something fun?" He asked suddenly. I nodded hesitantly, still not sure what their definition of 'fun' contained.