"You two! Off to your room, and don't you come back out until dinner!", Molly yelled as the potion they had been working on for hours turned into a very pretty but very wrong shade of green.
"But mum, we -", one tried to interject, but Molly had no time for excuses. " No, Fred! I need to salvage this and I can't do it with you under my feet!". With a mutinous glare from Fred, and a defeated sigh from George, the twins truged out of the kitchen and Molly turned back to the stove.
In another world, Molly clucked her tongue, vanished the potion and gave up trying to teach her skills to them. In that world, she would become increasingly upset that none of her children were interested or able to continue on the lineage of Prewett Potioneers that had existed for centuries. Certainly, they were not potions that one could sell to just anyone, being specifically tied to friends and family via intention magic and blood, but they were truly powerful and mustn't be lost to the next generation.
Every time when one of her kids turned thirteen, and thus old enough to study these potions, Molly threw herself at the project, trying to show them the power and heritage she was teaching.
But while Bill was competent in following instructions, he lacked the ability to channel his magic through a cauldron. Charlie had never had anything in mind other than dragons, and Percy was uncomfortable with the imprecision of the recipe.
Ron had only just finished his first year at Hogwarts, but had already pronounced his hatred for anything potions related, and Ginny's result with toddler-safe potions they'd brewed together showed she wasn't much better than her brother. Too easily distracted, too much constant movement, and no eye for time.
The twins really were her last hope.
So, in another world, Molly became bitter and resentful that they were squandering their obvious talent and let their heritage die.
Luckily, this is not the world we're in today.
In this world, Molly rubbed her forehead and gave it one last chance. She spent hours unwinding and analysing every single thing they had done that was not done to recipe.
By the end of it, she was absolutely gobsmacked - and very late to preparing dinner.
While she was cobbling together a simple, but filling stew, Molly pondered how to talk to the twins about their alterations. They were utterly brilliant and showed a deep understanding of how these specific potions worked.
This was not something they would've learned at school. No potion master would ever use a stainless steel cauldron, thanks to the "knowledge" that muggle created materials were inferior and unfit to conduct magic. In truth, they required a very specialized touch and a particular method of preparation. But how could they know this?
Molly felt as though were sitting on hot coals all throughout dinner. She kept sneaking glances at the twins, who were still obviously (and righteously, she had to admit to herself) upset with her.
But something else was wrong. Their facial expressions looked wrong on them. She would need to find out what was going on with that.
Finally, dinner came to an end and the family left to their various rooms and projects.
"Fred? George? I'd like a word", she said before they could sneak out. The two looked at one another and rolled their eyes. Molly decided to ignore this. She had behaved quite unkindly so it was no surprise they didn't want to talk with her.
"First of all, I want to make clear that I am sorry for how I reacted a few hours ago. I feared the potion was out of control and had become dangerous. And I worried about ... but that's neither here nor there. What's important is that I'm sorry that I didn't hear you out. Okay?"
The boys looked honestly surprised and Molly felt a surge of guilt. Was she that unfair and unforgiving to them?
She let out a sigh of relief when the two nodded to each other and chorused "okay". Now I want to know what you did with your faces. They're all wrong.
"I have no idea what you mean", said the one that looked like Fred, encouraged by an angelic nod from his brother but Molly wasn't fooled.
" Boys, I've seen you every day for eleven years. What did you do? Is it a charm? A potion?"
'George' looked cautiously hopeful.
"You noticed?". She raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Of course I did. Will you tell me what exactly you did and whether you need help reversing it?".
Their response came in their dizzying twin speak.
" It's a potion-" "to find out if you-" "can tell us two apart-" "since you didn't at the end of the brewing". The last part came as a chorus. Well. This was concerning and something to ruminate about later. Right now, she had two boys to reassure.
"Fred, George, I will always recognize you. I know that you, Fred, are a bit more expressive and laugh a little wider. And you, George, screw up your face when you're thinking. You're a bit stronger, and Fred is a bit faster. You make a wonderful team because you're very similar, but you are your own people and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise".
There was lots of hugging and crying and promises to do better after that.
"Now, it's gone quite late, but what do you say we come back to that potion tomorrow?"
"We'd like that", they chorused.
" I'm glad. Good night boys, and brush your teeth!", Molly said, hugging the two of them and giving each a wet kiss on their head which they scrubbed off immediately before running up the stairs.
In another world, the twins would grow to resent their mother's distaste for their aspirations. But in this world, Molly became a partner.