In a world unseen 
by muggle eyes,
lived two young men
(both funny guys).

The first was freckled
with flaming red hair;
the second’s appearance
proved they were a pair.

The first was Fred,
and the second his kin;
the second, named George,
Fred’s identical twin.

Fred looked like George,
and George looked like Fred,
and the rest of the Weasleys
bore the same hair: red.

While each Weasley child
seemed cast by one mold
the twins, George and Fred,
were by far the most bold.

Their parents, though poor,
for their kids had high hopes,
but they thought the odd twins
might be a couple of dopes.

Bill and Charlie had set
a high standard to meet,
and Percy set to prove
it could even be beat

Prefects, Head boys, 
Quidditch heroes who scored,
even youngest boy Ron
got a special award.

Not the twins, however,
not a badge nor award.
(They did love Quidditch,
but the rest they ignored.)

More important to them
than the family’s approval
was laughter, and humor,
and sad face removal.

While freckles and hair
made the twins fit right in,
the likeness of family
was only deep as their skin.

The difference of these two
was quite easy to see
they started acting up
before they even turned three.

Turning Ron’s teddy bear
to a big hairy spider,
or showing Ginny mischief
and attempting to guide her,

they almost tricked Ron
and sent him to heaven,
with the Unbreakable Vow
when they were just seven.

Explosions at home
were common for these twins,
or shooting wet spitballs 
through poor Professor Binns,

the pair never ceased
in the pursuit of their dreams,
they started out simply
with their new Canary Creams.

All throughout school
they researched and tested
(it wasn’t schoolwork:
they didn’t do as expected).

When Hogwarts most needed them,
they rolled up their sleeves,
they packed up their bags,
and on Umbridge, sicked Peeves.

They didn’t fly off in fear
Or abandon the school;
what they decided to do:
give the revolt some more fuel.

Umbridge got sacked,
their new premises bloomed,
thanks to their antics
their business finally boomed.

At Diagon Alley
the real story begins,
and coming into play
are the flaws of the twins. 

While clever and talented,
and funny and kind,
there’s a side to the pair
that we must keep in mind.

In Gryffindor’s House
the two were dubbed brave
but curiosity with courage
will send one to the grave.

For all of their lives 
the twins bent every rule;
their special map of Hogwarts
helped them sneak out of school.

Hidden passageways piqued  
the interest of these two.
One shouldn’t be surprised, then;
it’s still something they’ll pursue.

Why did they choose their shop,
at Diagon Alley, ninety-three?
Did they pick it from an ad;
bought a shop they did not see?

That’s not like Fred and George;
their behavior is a clue:
In life they’re daring, risky blokes,
But business they think through!

One day they made the trip
to Diagon Alley, ninety-three.
A slip through Hogwarts’ humpbacked witch
the easiest way would be.

They didn’t quite reach Honeydukes,
for once they left the grounds,
they’d passed their apparition tests
and no one heard the cracking sounds.

What did they find in the empty store
at Diagon Alley, ninety-three?
While sneaking out would these two 
rush their curiosity?

Not Fred and George, 
they examined every inch,
and finding what was hidden there
for them would be a cinch. 

The shop, of course, is flourishing, 
the most colorful on the street
inside, a crowded atmosphere,
the shuffle of busy feet.

Filling up the aisles now
Bright boxes, tricks, and funny sounds,
They hide the clinching factor 
for which the Weasley’s bought the grounds.

There is of course, another room; 
few notice it’s location,
for set beside it— muggle tricks:
Too bland for fascination.

Set back from all the jokes and tricks
and hidden with a curtain,
this darker room, much more subdued, 
drew the twins for certain.

Why cordon off this extra space,
why keep it’s entrance hidden?
There’s something there they can’t resist:
Something that’s forbidden!

"But no," you say, "this room is used
to stock Dark Arts defenses."
Yes, I say, that’s true, right now.
But try and use your senses!

Into this cut off, darkened room
they must have just expanded—
for only recently, they say, 
were the products here demanded!

Beyond the boxes labeled
Shield Cloak, Shield Gloves, and Hat,”
the floor might have a mismatched spot,
hidden with a mat.

A passageway found by the twins
convinced them here to stay, 
But what kind of place connecting 
sits indifferent there today?

What interest when they bought the shop
no longer interests George and Fred?
What interest now forgotten 
set the boxes there instead?

Their first flaw: curiosity,
the second lay in greed.
But these days heaps of extra gold
is something they don’t need.

Below shop number ninety three,
like each shop on the street,
lie caves and rails, and vaults with gold,
run by the goblins’ most elite.

Gringott’s bank is most secure,
the safest— save for one,
but Fred and George beat Hogwarts;
the bank would just be fun.

Would Fred and George steal Gringott’s gold?
Do we really know they wouldn’t?
Let’s look back at what they’ve done,
even when they knew they shouldn’t.

To blackmail, first, high on the list
they found themselves succumbing,
to get the gold they rightly won—
Well, Bagman had it coming.

Thievery from Honeydukes!
We saw them disappear,
They used the passage and came back
Arms full of butterbeer.

“They paid!” I hear you say to me,
I have to strongly disagree.
Paid the owner, Ambrosius Flume,
and back into his cellar flee?

Pay Mr. Flume
and hope and pray
he wouldn’t tell Albus 
who he met that day?

Left him money?
Well, perhaps—
if they didn’t mind him searching through
his cellar floor for traps.

And another thing
you may have missed,
they drugged a prefect,
we witnessed.

Hermione told them once 
not to test on any first years;
conveniently she fell asleep
with one of their butterbeers.

Would the mischievous duo go
so far they’d rob a bank?
It seems to me they’ve gone before
beyond an innocent prank.

The brand new shop has cost a lot,
Their start-up loan depleted,
They move into a place that will
ensure they’re not defeated.

For even if they do go broke,
and lack of funds persists,
the passage in the shop insures 
another plan exists.

“It’s not like stealing really,”
to George says brother Fred,
“For business will soon pick up, and,
when it does the word will spread.”

“And then we’ll have enough gold coins
to return whatever we borrow,”
to Fred replies his brother George,
“And none but we will know.”

And this was how they justified,
and how the plan seemed right;
it was something they would only do
if money got too tight.

But luckily for Fred and George,
they didn’t have to do it,
for business took off right away.
As for the plan? “Screw it.”

For now instead of taking coins,
they deposit coins instead,
and the secret entrance to the bank?
Unimportant to George and Fred.

Why then is it at all important
we find these little clues?
Because soon in the future
it’s something that they’ll use.

Why? But why? 
Mere curiosity?
No, the reason is because
the future is not pretty.

The Dark Lord Voldemort
is taking over everywhere.
It won’t be long before 
he does something quite unfair.

He wants the magic world to be
completely in his hands,
and so we look to what is vital
to realize his plans.

There’s something every wizard has
that he can take away,
and with the goblin’s help
the wizards don’t have a say.

It won’t be hard to turn them,
the goblins don’t like us;
they’re in it for the money
they won’t put up a fuss.

“If you don’t support me,”
the Dark Lord will declare,
“The goblins get to keep your gold,
and you don’t stand a prayer!”

The goblins will be happy,
for most won’t back Tom Riddle,
and they’ll be gaining all the wealth
by staying in the middle.

“The warning history shows,"
are words that once were said
by a ragged, ancient, talking hat
each kid puts on his head.

The sorting hat is right, of course,
it’s offering a clue;
throughout the goblin's history
they revolted too.

“I shall have,” the Dark Lord claimed, 
“my servants returned to me,
and an army of creatures whom all fear.”
(Goblet of Fire, 33.)

Of his wishes in the graveyard,
Riddle’s gotten every one:
Dementors, giants, servants,
only “creatures” remains undone. 

An army, made of creatures,
one that’s feared throughout the land,
might be hard for him to build—
unless... there’s one on hand.

Beneath Diagon Alley,
already feared by wizards all
lies a mass of creatures waiting,
guarding vaults while they’re on call.

Should Riddle land the goblins,
and sway them to his side,
he’ll also get his final wish;
creatures he can guide.

And when this finally happens,
the bank closes to the good,
what will Fred and George do?
I’ll tell you what they could.

Pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord
and have access to their gold;
it’s just words anyway,
their meaning empty, heartless, cold.

Not Fred and George, our heroes, 
it’s not like them at all.
They won’t give in to Voldy
they’ll continue standing tall.

But Fred and George, our heroes,
they won’t like this one bit.
They worked too hard for all their gold,
and they’re not going to lose it.

The twins, bold and daring,
will find another way;
they’ll explore the depths of Gringott’s
to try and get their pay.

The secret passage in their store
seems handy at this time,
but Fred and George would have been wise
to listen to the hat’s rhyme.

“Oh, know the perils, read the signs!”
the tattered hat forewarned.
Now listen closely to these clues,
the hat should not be scorned. 

Poor Arthur one day did indeed
face “mortal peril” and a ward,
it was the sign on Arthur’s door
that none of us should have ignored.

“Dangerous” Dai Llewellyn 
was the name tacked on the door,
and if we studied carefully
we’d know what was in store.

“Dangerous” Dai Llewellyn Ward
is a clue to the finale,
an anagram, arrange the letters:
“War dwells under Diagon Alley.”

An army there, in Gringott’s depths
of creatures feared by all,
So sneaking to a Gringott’s vault
is not a feat that’s small.

Yes, these brave twins, they will try,
for it’s true what we saw:
The twins unyielding greed for gold
is their most tragic flaw.

Fred and George have been forewarned,
to say that is quite fair:
simply look at Gringott’s doors,
the warning is meant for a pair.

Will they survive?
I can answer in half
and Harry, our hero, 
won’t think it’s a laugh.

The passage will open
and down will go two
one will come back,
one won’t make it through.

Kill off a twin—
really, would she dare?
She would, of course, she planned it:
J. K. Rowling made a spare.