The Weasley twins hit the changing room after a tiresome Quidditch practice.

It was an extremely
warm spring day and the hour and a half they spent riding their brooms had only made them more
anxious for a shower.
Unlikely for them, only one of the three showers was available -Oliver had got ahead of them, and
Harry, who had left the training session a bit earlier, had been under the cold water for about ten
minutes now. George reached into his robes' pocket and took out a sickle. He flipped it and called
heads as the coin went up, leaving tails to Fred. He pointed his wand to it, yelled Immobulus! and
froze the coin in mid-air. It was tails. Fred got in first.
He stepped into the shower and relished the feeling of being under fresh rain pouring down on him.
He was mindlessly humming to some tunes whilst cleaning himself. He reached for the shampoo
bottle, squeezed it and applied the somewhat sticky product all over his hair, ruffling the gorgeous
redhead locks.
Although he could still hear George cursing the heat and the coin that had doomed him some five
minutes before, he closed his eyes and massaged his head before turning on the shower again. When
he did so he had the strangest sensation of his head itching and burning. He hurried and got under
the cold water again, washing away the shampoo as soon as he could. As the burning started to wear
off, off went his hair, too.
GEORGE, WHAT DID YOU PUT IN MY SHAMPOO, YOU BASTARD? He was screaming at
the top of his lungs, traces of fear were noticeable in his voice. You'll pay for this, I swear.
He didn't wait for him to answer, nor would he have quite make out what that would've been,
anyway, since he was still mumbling and cursing under his breath, as he saw red hairs going down
the drain.
He thought there ought to be a counter-spell. A hair-growing spell. He was sure he could make
Hermione fix it for him in exchange of a week without any Weasley turmoil. That was the easy part.
The hardest was how to make George pay for it. Skiving Snackboxes were as far as he thought the
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had gone, but how long George had been working on that shampoo on
his own, he did not know. He'd eventually come up with something, he thought, turning on the
shower for a third time.
Just as he was clearing any trace of soap on his body, he found another unpleasant surprise. He went
for what he thought would be a bald head, but instead he felt two very short lines of short hair on
the back of his head. He rubbed it, thinking it was still to fall off. It stayed. Determined to find if
there was some message written with short hair, he very carefully caressed his own head. But it
didn't feel like a normal oval-shapped head. There were bumps and dents.
Surely there was something wrong. This can't be my skull! his squeaky voice cried. GEORGE, I
SWEAR BY MERLIN'S BEARD THAT I'M NOT FORGIVING YOU FOR THIS ONE!, he said,
although he secretly admired his twin's talent for a prank.
When he finally stepped out of the shower, he made sure George wasn't near to see his face the
moment he actually saw what exactly was on the back of his head. Once he told himself it was safe,
he got closer to the mirror and turned around very slowly, still reluctant to learn the truth, although
oddly curious. What he caught staring back at him on the mirror was not to be liked.
He let out a scream that could've easily been Ginny's, and faced the mirror once again. Eyes wide
open and trembling lips were now in front of him. But that was not what worried him. The trouble
was what was on the back.
The door opened and George came in, wearing a genuinely worried face. Fred turned around to tell
him to stop pretending and give him the counter-spell. Or just to congratulate him on the success of
this new product. However, it was not naughtiness what George's eyes showed. He was scared.
Even more scared than when Molly told them off for stealing their father's car.
By Dumbledore's hundred names! What on earth is going on, Fred?, he finally let out. His eyes
were travelling from Fred's face to the mirror, occasionally checking the few red hairs in the
shower. Is that... Who I think it is?
It almost certainly is Fred replied, half-sighing, half-smiling. I'm guessing it wasn't the shampoo,
then?

It almost certainly was not George laughed. We'll have to tell Dumbledore and send some owls.
The Ministry will like to hear about this!
There was not time for George to get showered, too (and although he didn't say, he didn't want to
risk it, just in case). When Fred got dressed, they silently marched to the castle, to Dumbledore's
office. The staircase landed on the correct corridor and they paced up until the gargoyle, when, after
seeing Harry, Fred stopped immediately and grabbed his brother by the arm.
Hey! Knock, knock, he whispered to Harry.
What?, Harry stared back at him, still in surprise, uh, who's there?
You know, Fred said, grinning.
How original..., Harry sighed, You Know Who?
A few silent seconds went by until Fred turned around, exposing the back of his head -which he had
covered with a beanie hat- and revealing the ugly face of Voldemort facing Harry. Yes, the now
bald Weasley finally said, high-fiving his brother and stepping into the gargoyle's staircase.
Good one! George snorted, as the magic staircase whirled up and got lost out of sight.