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Summer at the Burrow was Fred's favorite time of year--even though they had to listen to Mum go on and on about how O.W.L.s were this year--mostly because he could sleep as much as he wanted. George was using this to his advantage in planning a prank that was sure to be the greatest prank ever pulled--because he was going to pull it on Fred.
It was hard enough for both of them to keep their plans from Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and Ginny, not to mention Mum and Dad, but they had never kept them from each other before. Keeping a secret from your twin had to be one of hardest things in the world, but George kept his mouth firmly shut on the topic at all times.
On the morning of The Prank (he had taken to putting capital letters on the words in his head), George snuck out of the house to the spot behind the garden shed where he was keeping his Muggle balloon filled with black powder and elaborate, detailed diagrams, buried a foot underground. He dug them up and charmed the dirt off of them. The diagrams had tiny stick figures running around bowls of porridge and numbers scrolling up and down the sides (not that he needed the numbers, they just looked nice). He stuffed the balloon in his front pocket and the diagram in his back pocket and hurried back to the house. He came into the kitchen, where Mum was already cooking breakfast.
"Where were you just now, George?" she asked without turning around.
"Just out back, Mum," he said, truthfully. "What's for breakfast?"
"Porridge," she said, abandoning the pot to sit down wearily at the table for a moment.
George grinned at her. "I'll finish up, if you like, Mum."
She eyed him playfully.
"Oh, come off it Mum, what could I possibly do to porridge?"
"All right," she said, standing up, "but if Ron or Percy end up with green welts on their noses again, you'll be doing something a lot worse than washing those dishes by hand."
"Mum," he said as he helped her find a nice, comfortable seat in front of the fireplace, "that was Fred." He kissed her cheek and returned to the kitchen.
He poured out 6 bowls, carefully sprinkling some of the black powder on one of them. A moment later, he could hear Ron lumbering down the stairs, then Fred and Ginny, then Percy. Dad was probably still sound asleep (last night was the first night in weeks he hadn't been on a raid), so he charmed one bowl to stay hot for an hour.
"Oi, George, are you thinking of taking up a career as the Weasley family cook?" said Fred, sitting down.
"No," he said matter-of-factly as he set out the bowls in front of his siblings. "Just saw that Mum needed some help." He was having a time not grinning like a madman, but somehow he controlled himself.
Just as he was about to sit down with his own bowl, Percy said, "What about Mum?"
Blushing, he jumped up, returned to the counter, poured out another bowl, and brought it to Mum, who was snoozing by the fire. He charmed this one also, and finally sat down at the table.
Everyone was enjoying their porridge (especially Ron) when suddenly Fred stood up, announced that he was about to be sick, and bolted for the bathroom. George grinned to himself and kept his nose two inches from his bowl, when said nose suddenly grew outward and sprouted whiskers. He felt his ears mysteriously migrate to the top of his head, and his teeth get sharper in his mouth.
"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed as George followed his twin.
He flung the bathroom door open to see Fred prodding as his face in the mirror and looking quite green--in fact, he was entirely green, from head to foot. Only his red hair and blue pajamas retained their original color. He was laughing at George, who was gaping at his reflection: his head had been transfigured into that of a large, strawberry blonde mouse.
"But you--you!" he said, pushed Fred into the bathtub, jumped on top of him (hitting the faucet handle by accident), and wrestled him until they both collapsed in giggles, drenched and completely back to normal.