Ecco alcune delle loro più esilaranti performance, in lingua originale *-*
"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown a full-time education."
"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.
"Definitely," said George.
And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wants and said together, "Accio Brooms!"
Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left he ducked just in time -- Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.
"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.
"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.
Fred looked around at the assembled students and at the silent, watchful crowd.
"If anybody fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three Diagon Alley -- Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"
"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," said George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.
"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.
"Give her hell from us, Peeves."
And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.
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"Make way for the heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through..."
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"You two just Apparated on my knees!"
"Yeah, well, it's harder in the dark --"
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"Yeah, Montague tried to do us during break," said George.
"What do you mean, 'tried'?" said Ron quickly.
"He never managed to get all the words out," said Fred, "due to the fact that we forced him head-first into that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor."
Hermione looked very shocked.
"But you'll get into terrible trouble!"
"Not until Montague reappears, and that could take weeks, I dunno where we sent him," said Fred coolly.
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"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.
"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?"
"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.
"That's not what he said," said Fred Weasley.
"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.
"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.
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"Cheers," whispered George, wiping tears of laughter from his face.
"Oh, I hope she tries Vanishing them next...they multiply by ten every time you try..."
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"We tried to shut him in a pyramid, but Mum spotted us." -George
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"Has Ron saved a goal yet?" asked Hermione.
"Well, he can do it if he thinks no one is watching him," said Fred, rolling his eyes. "So all we have to do is ask the crowd to turn their backs and talk among themselves every time the Quaffle goes up on his end Saturday."
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"You don't want to bottle your anger up like that, Harry, let it all out," said Fred, beaming. "There might be a couple people fifty miles away who didn't hear you."
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"--but you get these massive pus-filled boils too," said George, "and we haven't worked out how to get rid of them yet."
"I can't see any boils," said Ron, staring at the twins.
"No, well, you wouldn't," said Fred, "they're not in a place we generally display to the public --"
"-- but they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the --"
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"Hey, look - Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!" Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow 'F' on it, the other a 'G.'
"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."
"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."
"I hate maroon," Ron moaned half-heartedly as he pulled it over his head.
"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge."
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"Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy--"
"Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."
Percy scowled.
"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand too. "How really corking to see you--"
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"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!" - George
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"Hello, Harry," said George, beaming at him. "We thought we heard your dulcet tones."
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"We've got it [ Percy's Head Boy badge]. We're improving it." The badge now read, "Bighead Boy."
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"You're a prefect? Oh Ronnie! That's everyone in the family!" [Molly Weasley]
"What are Fred and I? Next door neighbours?"
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"So top grade's O for 'Outstanding,'" she [Hermione] was saying, "and then there's A-"
"No, E," George corrected her, "E for 'Exceeds Expectations.' And I've always thought Fred and I should've got E in everything, because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams."
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"Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."
"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred.
"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"
"It was," Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it."
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"Time is Galleons, little brother."
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"What would we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."
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"I can't see anyone trying to bump off a Quidditch team," said George. "Wood might've done the Slytherins if he could've got away with it," said Fred fairly.
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"So, all in all, not one of Ron's better birthdays?" [Fred]
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"What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"
"Oh no, Ron," came Fred's voice, very sarcastically. "No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."
"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," said George, whose voice sounded muffled, as though he was squashed against the wall.
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"This isn't how we imagined handing over our present," said George grimly, putting down a large wrapped gift on Ron's bedside cabinet and sitting beside Ginny.
"Yeah, when we pictured the scene, he was conscious," said Fred.
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“For instance, this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill with a single glance from his eyes. That’s a basilisk, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that’s glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it’s safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that’s still likely to be the last thing you ever do.” [Fred]
Se avete bisogno di traduzioni, ditelo pure XD
