#started as a joke in a discord conversation from a wattpad comment

[theweasleysredhair]

Eiffel Over [F.W.] [G.W.]

Characters: Fred Weasley, George Weasley

Word Count: 1600

Requested?: Yes/No(t exactly)

Summary: You take Fred and George to Paris and regret every decision you ever made that lead up to this point.

A/n: people keep asking me to write a fic where the twins take you to paris... this is for everyone who has ever imagined that!! enjoy! (please don’t hate me after reading this fic. please.)

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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

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“I can’t believe we were just flying,” Fred looked over his shoulder at the plane you had just departed, his mouth dropping slightly as he took in the sight.

“You literally played Quidditch at Hogwarts, and your dad had an enchanted car that you stole and drove. How are you so confused over flying?” You replied with an amused shake of your head.

“Because it flies without magic,” Fred said as if it were obvious.

“And it’s got wings,” George added. Fred nodded enthusiastically, “Like a bird.”

You shook your head, “Whatever you guys say. Now come on, we need to grab our suitcases!”

In hindsight, you should’ve assumed that taking the twins to Paris the muggle way would’ve caused chaos and many many questions. But in your defence, you did not expect to turn back from grabbing your suitcase off the conveyor belt to said two grown men sitting on the carousel and riding around on it, handing out the cases to the wrong people.

You sighed, much like a parent whose toddler had drawn on a wall in felt-tip and proudly showcased this fact to them.

Waiting until the conveyor brought the twins back to you, you grabbed each of them by the shirt collar and yanked them off (with a little difficulty, and a lot of strange looks).

“I can’t take you both anywhere,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and lazily gestured to two familiar cases that were making their way towards you, the twins leaning over to grab them.

“Were we not supposed to do that?” George asked innocently, though the look he shared with Fred told you they knew they were not.

“Did you see anyone else doing what you two were?”

“Well no, but we assumed everyone was just being boring,” Fred replied as he followed you out of the airport.

“To be fair, they were being boring, stood around like that. At least we gave them free entertainment,” George added with a shrug of his shoulders.

The taxi ride to the hotel went by quickly and, thankfully, with little to no embarrassment to yourself.

You managed to check in to the hotel when you arrived and get the twins to their room without much more of a hassle, besides Fred yelling out, “Au revoir monsieur! Oui oui baguette!” at the receptionist as the lift doors shut, prompting you to scold him, even if the bemused look on the receptionist’s face made you want to laugh.

“I’m going to settle into my room, sort out my clothes and freshen up. And then we can visit the Eiffel Tower. How does that sound?” You asked, receiving nods of affirmation.

You let yourself into your own room and smiled at the peace and quiet - which was quickly interrupted by a loud banging next door, followed by loud laughter.

You knew you should’ve asked for a room on the opposite side of the hotel to the twins.

It didn’t take long for you to sort out your belongings, flicking on the tv for some background noise as your eyes scoured a map of France, deciding on the best route to the Eiffel Tower. You’d purposely picked a hotel within walking distance, and with it being noon, you had plenty of time to make a day out of the trip.

Hearing more laughter, you decided that they’d had enough time to destroy their hotel room, and grabbed your card key and bag before exiting your own room.

You knocked on their door, hearing an exasperated, “Fred, this is permanent ink!” and bracing yourself for what Fred had used the ink for. To draw on the walls? To write on the table? To-

The door opened and your mouth dropped, “Did you... did you draw a moustache?”

Fred stood proudly in the doorway, an uneven, curly moustache drawn above his upper lip, round glasses - reminiscent of Harry Potter’s - around his eyes, George barely being able to breathe through his laughter behind him.

“I did! Do you like it? It’s a proper French moustache!”

“I can’t believe I’m going to be walking around France with you looking like that,” you stated, only being able to shake your head at him.

“Should’ve seen him panic when he couldn’t get it off,” George chortled, earning a glare from his twin.

“On the bright side, look what we can do!” Fred stepped inside the doorway to the left, George rushing to the right so you couldn’t see them anymore. Then all of a sudden-

“Ouiiiiiiii,” Fred yelled as he moved from the left side of the doorway to the right. “Ouiiiiiiii,” George copied the same movement, just in the opposite direction to what his twin did previously.

And then suddenly they moved back and forth, taking it in turns, yelling out “Ouiiiiiiii!!” whilst all you could do is stand and watch in half shock half confusion.

After a minute or so, both twins stopped as if they hadn’t been doing anything and stepped out of their room, closing the door behind them.

“We’re ready to go now.”

“I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want to ask,” you shook your head, before turning to head down the hallway, gesturing for them to follow you.

It felt later than nearly 1pm to you, with everything that had happened already. You also kept forgetting that Fred had marker pen on his face, and was receiving yet more strange looks from passers by as you began the short walk towards the Eiffel Tower.

“Can we stop at this shop?” George asked, gesturing to a tourist-y type gift shop. You nodded, “Sure, why not. I’ll wait here for you, just be quick, okay?”

The twins disappeared into the shop, emerging maybe ten minutes later sporting matching grins and berets, their ginger hair peaking out either side. Stifling a laugh, you pointed at them, “What on earth-“

“We’re fitting in, Y/n, duh,” George rolled his eyes at you with a shake of his head. “We’re simply showing our fellow Frenchmen that we too, are French,” Fred added, before looking around at the crowds of people passing you by on the pavement.

“Excuse me, sir! Bonjour! Je m’appelle Fredrique, oui oui! Baguette, beret!” He suddenly called out to a middle aged man who happened to be walking by with his dog. He took one glance at Fred and hurried on faster, which you didn’t blame him for.

A pair of 6’3 ginger twins wearing brightly coloured berets and holding baguettes under their armpits, one of which with permanent ink covering his face? Yeah, you figured you’d hurry on by too.

“We’re never going to get to the Eiffel Tower if you two don’t behave. Come on, stop bothering these people!” You grabbed an arm of each of them and pulled them along with you in the direction of the tower.

It didn’t take long for the twins to get distracted again, this time by a gentleman who was stood by the side of the road with a hat in front of him holding change and spare notes.

“Why is he standing so still?” Fred asked, confused.

George nodded at his twin’s question, “And why does he have a moustache like Fred’s?”

“He’s called a mime,” you explained, watching as a young boy stepped over to the hat and dropped a couple of pennies into it. The mime immediately came to life, making the twins jump, pretending to be stuck in a box.

“But he’s not in a box,” Fred frowned, tilting his head to see if the mime was somehow in some kind of invisible contraption.

You shook your head with a smile, “That’s the point, Fred. He is a mime, he mimes different scenarios, one of which being him stuck in a box.”

As soon as you had told the twins this, they decided it was the best thing they’d ever heard, and pretended to be stuck in their own boxes for a solid few minutes, until you swiftly moved them on, dropping some spare coins you had in your pocket from purchasing a magazine at the airport for your flight into the hat. The mime tilted his hat off to you and then you were back on your way to the Eiffel Tower.

As you got closer to the Tower, you hoped you’d be able to make it to the queue without any more distractions from the twins, figuring they couldn’t possibly cause much more trouble... could they?

Alas, as you heard a small scream, and a clash from behind you, you turned around, your eyes widening as you realised Fred had been too busy looking up at the Tower to notice a row of bikes, that he’d very kindly now knocked over, he himself being sent to the floor.

“Fred! Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You crouched down to his level where he was laying on the concrete.

He groaned, sitting up and pulling a knee to his chest, before looking at you and then up at George, “I can’t believe it. Eiffel over.”

The concern dropped from your face as you stared at him with no emotion, George rolling his eyes at the pun, though a smile was tugging the corner of his mouth.

Fred grinned wide, “Geddit? Eiffel? Because we’re in Paris?”

You stood up without another word, grabbing George’s arm and walking away from the eldest twin, much to the loud protests of the eldest twin.

All of this, you realised, and it was only day 1 - next time, you’d come to Paris alone.