This is my first Fanfiction, tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/objects/events/etc that you recognize.
"Good-bye Frank." Fred heaved a sigh and closed the door of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes firmly. For just a moment, he leaned his head against the door. He was so tired. But a grin lit up his features. Not for the first time, it hit him that his and his brother's store was success! They had been in business for almost a year, now and they, he and George, were on their way to becoming rich off their crazy inventions. It was all due to Harry. Thank the lord for him. His generosity would gain him forever the twin's respect. Because of the Galleons he had won during their 6th year and his 4th year in the Tri-wizard Tournament, Fred and George were able to really start investing in their idea for a business. Many of the people they had spoken to had been delighted with the idea, and they had soon found a storefront they could use in Diagon Alley It wasn't much, and it was the best they could afford, for the time being, but it had space in the back where they could experiment with new ideas.
However, sometimes, sometimes, he felt a slight pang. He knew it was his mother's ideas that had somehow wound their way into his brain. She had constantly been disappointed. Oh Well. Maybe, he and george could think of someway to help the fight against old you-know-who. Despite being the joker he was, he found it difficult to say HIS name. Oh well.
"HEY! Fred, you lazy rat! Get your ass in gear so we can have some REAL fun!" shouted George from the back. Fred smiled, he and his brother could be so different yet so similar. His brother sensed when Fred's mood was going south, since he was usually the one to have more drastic mood swings. George's moods were less drastic, making him the more laid back of the two, not that they showed different personalities to the world, of course. It was actually through effort that they presented an identical presence to the world. They made it purposely difficult for anyone else to be able to tell the difference between them. That made it all the more fun for them, so no one could tell the difference between them. For some reason, though, Angelina always had. Funny how it worked, the girl you liked could always tell it was you. It was very gratifying and annoying at the same time. Gratifying, because, well, she knew it was him. Annoying because he couldn't fool her into thinking he was George. Ever.
Smiling, Fred ambled back to their workshop where they tested new ideas on each other. Despite the fact that everyone believed they were lazy, it was just that they were uninterested in any of the subjects at school. Charms, of course, held the most interest, because they were able to use some of the charms they learned there to put into there products. Of course, they often had had to figure it out for themselves. Who was anyone else to say they were lazy. If anyone knew how much work they put into, they would be immediately respected. But who wanted respect, when they could be the jokers instead? They had once overheard McGonagall and Dumbledore talking about them. It had been right after one of their larger jokes and Dumbledore, as usual, had not seemed to be frustrated or angry with them.
"My word! I swear, those Weasley twins could be the end of me!" said Professor McGonagall.
"I don't know Minerva" responded Dumbledore quietly. "I seem to remember a time when you said that of Sirius Black and James Potter."
"Oh, I suppose. The Weasley twins could give those two a run for their money!" Minerva had responded. Fred smiled. It had been one of the few times he had ever received something of a compliment from a teacher. At the time, Fred hadn't quite understood how enormous an accomplishment giving James Potter and Sirius Black a run for their money was, but being the resourceful young man he was, he had searched for records of them. Apparently James and Sirius were the most troublesome pair Hogwarts had seen in years. They were also brilliant. Of course, James had managed to become Head Boy. Fred snorted. Who would want to be Head Boy? Not him, of course. Although there was a part of him that smiled wistfully about it. He could have done a lot but had never cared to. He had known since his first year at Hogwarts that he did not want to be a leader in things like that. Fred knew that the little nugget of doubt that rested in the back of his mind was because of his mother. Why she wanted them to work in the ministry with Voldemort out there was beyond his comprehension. He knew all too well that she suffered from fears that they would be dead soon. Well, George and I, we know how to protect ourselves, at least as good as anyone else. But when it came down to it, they were living in a dangerous world, and there was little they could do to protect themselves. This was another one of those reasons why they didn't join the ministry despite their hatred for the ministry: Self-preservation. They knew that being pureblood wizards, even muggle-loving ones, and not actively participating in the fight was the way to not being killed. Fred, however, wished he could do more, but he knew he wasn't prepared to. All he could do was offer humor to ease tension to the situation. But that was a noble pursuit...wasn't it? Of course it was! What was he thinking? Shaking his head, he entered the back room where pandemonium reigned. George was trying to keep their fireworks from going off, but apparently, something had set them off. Uh-Oh.
Two hours later, Fred took a step back and quickly muttered "Scourgify" pointing at his robes, which were covered in god knew what. Immediately, his robes became clean, although it was instantly clear, that there was still damage done to them. He had apparently ripped them when he had been trying to contain their fireworks. Well, at least his dragonskin shoes weren't damaged. He could always get new robes. They had enough money to. Unlike at home, where they had to be careful not to destroy their robes because money was tight, here they were earning quite a bit of money. They shared a flat in a magical neighborhood, making sure that they were surrounded by people who didn't mind things that go bump in the night. That was their specialty. Loud noises and such. Although he did have to admit that the pond was a masterpiece. He knew from a letter from Harry who was in his 7th year now, that after Umbridge had fled, Flitwick had easily cleaned up their swamp but had left a bit by a window in what seemed a tribute to them. Fred had known then, that he and George were talented in charms.
"So, should we continue working on our firefly spies? Or on our timed dung bombs?" asked George with a mischievous smile on his face. Fred summoned up his most evil grin and said "the firefly spies. I think it would be best to, shall we say, keep a low profile." Just a couple days ago, they had miscalculated with the timed dung bomb, and it had left the whole neighborhood reeking of dung even now. Fred figured that it was easier on the whole neighborhood if they backed off for a while. However, they could work on the spies and they would never know that their shops had been spied on. Of course, there was that issue about their tendency to explode if pushed to hard. Fred just hoped they didn't test a malfunctioning one tonight. Unfortunately there was no way to tell. Neither he nor George had any idea how to correct it. Perhaps, though, tonight would show them how.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps echoing...This would be the perfect time to practice with their spy gadgets. Quickly, he cast the spell that made it function. He flicked with his wand and sent the firefly gadget bumbling towards the figure walking quickly along the road. The firefly would send back an image of what it saw to the controller's hand, as if it was T.V. screen, or so Harry called it, when he had described it.
He watched, lazily, as the image on his hand zig-zagged until it came to rest on the figure walking rapidly down the street. He flicked the firefly closer and suddenly the face came into view. Fred gaped at it but just then, his luck turned. The picture he was watching fizzed and shut down, his hand returning to normal. With a horrified look on his face, Fred watched as the firefly fell to the cobblestone alley and exploded, sending bits of stone and dirt everywhere. The figure looked down, and up again, at the store, noticing Fred in the Window. The figure shouted angrily "FRED WEASLEY YOU LITTLE TURD!!"
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/objects/events/etc that you recognize.
"Good-bye Frank." Fred heaved a sigh and closed the door of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes firmly. For just a moment, he leaned his head against the door. He was so tired. But a grin lit up his features. Not for the first time, it hit him that his and his brother's store was success! They had been in business for almost a year, now and they, he and George, were on their way to becoming rich off their crazy inventions. It was all due to Harry. Thank the lord for him. His generosity would gain him forever the twin's respect. Because of the Galleons he had won during their 6th year and his 4th year in the Tri-wizard Tournament, Fred and George were able to really start investing in their idea for a business. Many of the people they had spoken to had been delighted with the idea, and they had soon found a storefront they could use in Diagon Alley It wasn't much, and it was the best they could afford, for the time being, but it had space in the back where they could experiment with new ideas.
However, sometimes, sometimes, he felt a slight pang. He knew it was his mother's ideas that had somehow wound their way into his brain. She had constantly been disappointed. Oh Well. Maybe, he and george could think of someway to help the fight against old you-know-who. Despite being the joker he was, he found it difficult to say HIS name. Oh well.
"HEY! Fred, you lazy rat! Get your ass in gear so we can have some REAL fun!" shouted George from the back. Fred smiled, he and his brother could be so different yet so similar. His brother sensed when Fred's mood was going south, since he was usually the one to have more drastic mood swings. George's moods were less drastic, making him the more laid back of the two, not that they showed different personalities to the world, of course. It was actually through effort that they presented an identical presence to the world. They made it purposely difficult for anyone else to be able to tell the difference between them. That made it all the more fun for them, so no one could tell the difference between them. For some reason, though, Angelina always had. Funny how it worked, the girl you liked could always tell it was you. It was very gratifying and annoying at the same time. Gratifying, because, well, she knew it was him. Annoying because he couldn't fool her into thinking he was George. Ever.
Smiling, Fred ambled back to their workshop where they tested new ideas on each other. Despite the fact that everyone believed they were lazy, it was just that they were uninterested in any of the subjects at school. Charms, of course, held the most interest, because they were able to use some of the charms they learned there to put into there products. Of course, they often had had to figure it out for themselves. Who was anyone else to say they were lazy. If anyone knew how much work they put into, they would be immediately respected. But who wanted respect, when they could be the jokers instead? They had once overheard McGonagall and Dumbledore talking about them. It had been right after one of their larger jokes and Dumbledore, as usual, had not seemed to be frustrated or angry with them.
"My word! I swear, those Weasley twins could be the end of me!" said Professor McGonagall.
"I don't know Minerva" responded Dumbledore quietly. "I seem to remember a time when you said that of Sirius Black and James Potter."
"Oh, I suppose. The Weasley twins could give those two a run for their money!" Minerva had responded. Fred smiled. It had been one of the few times he had ever received something of a compliment from a teacher. At the time, Fred hadn't quite understood how enormous an accomplishment giving James Potter and Sirius Black a run for their money was, but being the resourceful young man he was, he had searched for records of them. Apparently James and Sirius were the most troublesome pair Hogwarts had seen in years. They were also brilliant. Of course, James had managed to become Head Boy. Fred snorted. Who would want to be Head Boy? Not him, of course. Although there was a part of him that smiled wistfully about it. He could have done a lot but had never cared to. He had known since his first year at Hogwarts that he did not want to be a leader in things like that. Fred knew that the little nugget of doubt that rested in the back of his mind was because of his mother. Why she wanted them to work in the ministry with Voldemort out there was beyond his comprehension. He knew all too well that she suffered from fears that they would be dead soon. Well, George and I, we know how to protect ourselves, at least as good as anyone else. But when it came down to it, they were living in a dangerous world, and there was little they could do to protect themselves. This was another one of those reasons why they didn't join the ministry despite their hatred for the ministry: Self-preservation. They knew that being pureblood wizards, even muggle-loving ones, and not actively participating in the fight was the way to not being killed. Fred, however, wished he could do more, but he knew he wasn't prepared to. All he could do was offer humor to ease tension to the situation. But that was a noble pursuit...wasn't it? Of course it was! What was he thinking? Shaking his head, he entered the back room where pandemonium reigned. George was trying to keep their fireworks from going off, but apparently, something had set them off. Uh-Oh.
Two hours later, Fred took a step back and quickly muttered "Scourgify" pointing at his robes, which were covered in god knew what. Immediately, his robes became clean, although it was instantly clear, that there was still damage done to them. He had apparently ripped them when he had been trying to contain their fireworks. Well, at least his dragonskin shoes weren't damaged. He could always get new robes. They had enough money to. Unlike at home, where they had to be careful not to destroy their robes because money was tight, here they were earning quite a bit of money. They shared a flat in a magical neighborhood, making sure that they were surrounded by people who didn't mind things that go bump in the night. That was their specialty. Loud noises and such. Although he did have to admit that the pond was a masterpiece. He knew from a letter from Harry who was in his 7th year now, that after Umbridge had fled, Flitwick had easily cleaned up their swamp but had left a bit by a window in what seemed a tribute to them. Fred had known then, that he and George were talented in charms.
"So, should we continue working on our firefly spies? Or on our timed dung bombs?" asked George with a mischievous smile on his face. Fred summoned up his most evil grin and said "the firefly spies. I think it would be best to, shall we say, keep a low profile." Just a couple days ago, they had miscalculated with the timed dung bomb, and it had left the whole neighborhood reeking of dung even now. Fred figured that it was easier on the whole neighborhood if they backed off for a while. However, they could work on the spies and they would never know that their shops had been spied on. Of course, there was that issue about their tendency to explode if pushed to hard. Fred just hoped they didn't test a malfunctioning one tonight. Unfortunately there was no way to tell. Neither he nor George had any idea how to correct it. Perhaps, though, tonight would show them how.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps echoing...This would be the perfect time to practice with their spy gadgets. Quickly, he cast the spell that made it function. He flicked with his wand and sent the firefly gadget bumbling towards the figure walking quickly along the road. The firefly would send back an image of what it saw to the controller's hand, as if it was T.V. screen, or so Harry called it, when he had described it.
He watched, lazily, as the image on his hand zig-zagged until it came to rest on the figure walking rapidly down the street. He flicked the firefly closer and suddenly the face came into view. Fred gaped at it but just then, his luck turned. The picture he was watching fizzed and shut down, his hand returning to normal. With a horrified look on his face, Fred watched as the firefly fell to the cobblestone alley and exploded, sending bits of stone and dirt everywhere. The figure looked down, and up again, at the store, noticing Fred in the Window. The figure shouted angrily "FRED WEASLEY YOU LITTLE TURD!!"