Twin Dusks
The First Chapter
Harry and Evan Potter were both peculiar children. For one thing, both twins have been told time and again that both of them looked exactly like their father, from their ruffled unkept hair that always stuck up in the back, thin face, mouth, eyebrows, and hands, down to their knobby knees. Except for their eyes. For while Evan has inherited their father's hazel eyes, completing the look of a complete clone of their father, Harry green eyes, their mother's eyes. It surprised and mystified the twins that they can look so similar except for that one distinct difference. Everything else was the same. They even had the same scar on their foreheads in the shape of the lightning bolt.
A scar that cost them their parents, and changed their lives forever, as they became known as The-Boys-Who-Lived.
There was another peculiar thing about the two that made them stand out from their relatives the Dursleys: they were both wizards. And now, with their friends the Weasleys, they were off to watch the Quidditch World Cup.
They were both woken up early by Mrs. Weasley. It was still dark outside. Ron muttered indistinctly as his mother roused him. At the foot of Harry's mattress, he saw two large, disheveled shapes emerged from tangles of blankets.
"'S' time already?" Fred asked groggily.
They dressed in silence, too sleepy to talk, then, yawning and stretching, the five of them headed downstairs into the kitchen.
Mrs. Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchments tickets. He looked up as the boys entered and spread his arms so that they could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him, held up by a thick leather belt.
"We're supposed to go incognito, so do I look like a muggle, Harry, Evan?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"Yeah," Harry smiled, "very good."
Evan yawned and nodded, "Looking very mugglish Mr. Weasley."
"Excellent!" Mr. Weasley said.
"You alright?" Harry whispered as he and Evan sat down. "You sleep alright?"
"Yes, I slept fine," Evan yawned. "Except for Ron's snoring… and George kicking my mattress in his sleep."
"Told you to sleep in my bed instead, we could have fit," Harry whispered.
Evan gave a tired, dramatic gasp and said, "There is no way I will share my bed with my older brother! That is just so weird."
"Ten minutes," Harry stressed, "and it is not weird when the alternative is George kicking your mattress all night."
Evan rolled his eyes, "Whatever," he yawned. "I just want to know when we can sleep again…"
"Lazy bum," Harry muttered, but he too yawned soon afterwards.
Ron noticed they were whispering and leaned towards them, "What were you two whispering about?" he asked curiously.
"Twin stuff," Harry shrugged.
"Harry wanted me to sleep with him last night," Evan said.
"At least Fred did not kick my mattress, Evan," Harry said, he turned to Ron and said, "George kept Evan up with his kicking."
"His what?"
"George kicks in his sleep," Evan grumbled. "Anyway, when are we leaving, Mr. Weasley?"
"As soon as the girls come down we're leaving," Mr. Weasley said. "We have a bit of a walk."
"Walk?" Evan asked. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"
"No, no, that's miles away," Mr. Weasley said, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup—"
"George!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply, and they all jumped. Even Hermione and Ginny as the two walked into the kitchen.
"What?" George said, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.
"What is that in your pocket?"
"Nothing!"
"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"
Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.
"We told you to destroy them!" Mrs. Weasley said furiously, holding up a strange-looking candy. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"
The twins looked like captured prisoners as they evidently been trying to smuggle as many of the strange toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.
"Honestly! No wonder you both didn't get more O.W.L.s if you've spend your time making these instead!" Mrs. Weasley said furiously. "Why can you two be more like Harry and Evan, I don't see them wasting months on ridiculous nonsense like this, do you?"
Harry and Evan shifted awkwardly as she said it. They both knew that Mrs. Weasley meant well, but it was always awkward whenever she compared Fred and George to them. All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the Weasley twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.
With a promise to send the older Weasleys, Bill, Charlie, and Percy, their way around midday, Mrs. Weasley waved them off as Mr. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry and Evan set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.
It was chilly, and the moon was still out. Evan kept close to Harry as they walked, both boys not feeling like talking. "Mr. Weasley, where are we headed?" Harry asked after a while.
"Well Harry, we'll be using a Portkey to get to the World Cup," Mr. Weasley said, glancing behind at the twins. "Portkeys are objects that are used to transport wizards form one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points across Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed."
Mr. Weasley pointed ahead of them, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.
Harry heard his brother groan with a mutter of, "That's so far…"
"You want me to carry you, little brother?" Harry joked, poking out his tongue.
"So-Sod off…" Evan yawned. "I'll make it there just fine!"
They trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way though the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Harry's hands were freezing, Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch.
They didn't have breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass. Each breath Harry took was sharp in his chest and his legs were starting to seize up when, at last, his feet found level ground. He felt a weight on him, and turned to see Evan leaning heavily on him.
"Whew," Mr. Weasley panted, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater."
"Arthur!" a man's voice shouted from the other side of the hilltop. Two tall figures were at the other side of the hilltop.
"Amos!" Mr. Weasley said, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.
Mr. Weasley was shaking hands wit ha ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.
"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," Mr. Weasley said. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"
Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.
"Oh I wish I knew him more," Evan panted. "Harry, I think I found my husband…"
"You say that about every hot person we meet, male or female," Harry whispered back. He glanced back at Cedric and blushed when the boy smiled their way. "But he is very cute…"
"Handsome, Harry, the word to describe men like Cedric is handsome. … I'm guessing we're supposed to be touching that boot and it'll take us to the World Cup?" Evan asked.
Harry nodded, "I'm guessing that's the idea."
"Then I want to stay close to Cedric," Evan said, sounding and looking suddenly reenergized. "I want to get real close to Diggory and let him feel our chemistry."
"What happened to being tired?" Harry chuckled.
"Not when there are handsome men around," Evan said. "Older brother, you really need to learn…"
Harry sighed and shook his head slightly, "I just want a guy who'll love me for me," he said softly. "Besides, didn't you hear, Cedric has a girlfriend."
"Had a girlfriend you mean," Evan said. Harry just shook his head in defeat and muttered, "I liked it better when you were sleepy."
Their attention turned to Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory when Mr. Weasley said, "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's—and Harry and Evan, also friends—"
"Merlin's beard," Amos Diggory said, his eyes widening. "Harry and Evan? Harry and Evan Potter?"
"Uh—yeah," Harry answered as Evan was too focused on staring at Cedric. Way to ignore your future dad-in-law, Harry thought to himself. He was used to people looking at them when they met them, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scars on their foreheads, but it always made Harry feel uncomfortable.
"Ced's talked about you, of course," Amos Diggory said. "Told us all about playing against you last year. …I said to him, I said—Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. …You beat Harry Potter!"
Harry couldn't think of any reply to this, so he remained silent. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed. "Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you …it was an accident…"
Next to him, Harry heard Evan muttered, "I knew I should have joined Quidditch." He smiled ruefully and shook his head.
Mr. Weasley turned to Harry, Evan, and Hermione.
"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do—"
With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the ten of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.
They all stood there, in a tight circle, as the chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. Harry looked around and saw that Evan was the only one grinning happily as he stood close to Cedric, their fingers almost touching.
"Three…" Mr. Weasley muttered, one eye on his watch, "two… one…"
It happened immediately; Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; he could feel Ron and Hermione on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; his forefinger was stuck to the book as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then—
His feet slammed into the ground; Ron staggered into him and he fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near his head with a heavy thud.
Harry looked up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, Cedric holding onto Evan as the boy looked to be in mid-fall; they still looked very windswept while everybody else was on the ground.
"Seven past five from Soatshead Hill," a voice said.
Harry disentangled himself from Ron and got to his feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. Evan immediately went to Harry's side and smiled, pulling Harry aside and whispered, "Did you see that? How my husband caught me like the fair maiden I am?"
"There is nothing fair or maiden about you," Harry grumbled, "and you're fourteen, I don't want to even think of you being like, well, that." Evan just laughed and patted Harry's shoulder, "Oh how my older brother is so naïve, not unlike the beauties that Cedric and I are, so ready for love—"
"Keep going like that and I'll hit you with the nearest broom," Harry said. Evan just laughed and the two followed Mr. Weasley and the group across the deserted moor. They walked for twenty minutes until a small stone cottage next to a gate came into view. There they said their goodbyes to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door. "Oh to be parted with my husband so soon," Evan cried out.
"Evan, again, he has a girlfriend," Harry sighed but his words fell on deaf ears. At the cottage, much to Harry's surprise, was a muggle. Harry and Evan had to help Mr. Weasley pay muggle money. They were given a map of the area, and the crowd walked through the gates and both Harry and Evan gasped.
They were on the top of a hill overlooking a sea of hundreds and hundreds of tents all lined up in perfect rows that seemed to go on for miles. Even from where Harry was standing, it was obvious that the wizards who made the tents only had a vague idea of what muggle tents looked like. As they descended and walked down the rows of tents, they passed tents with chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vane. Here and there, there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised if the muggle at the cottage would be suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several life peacocks attached to it. A little on the ways was a tent with three stories, and a tent with a patio and fountain attached along with a hanging garden.
They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small wooden sigh hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.
Harry was grateful that the two tents Mr. Weasley brought were muggle looking enough, shabby and man-made with no extra bells or whistles or turrets in sight.
"Right, well, we will be a bit cramped, but I am sure we all can squeeze in," Mr. Weasley smiled, admiring their handiwork. Harry just realized that when Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrive, they will be a party of eleven. Hermione seemed to have spotted this problem too; she gave Harry and Evan a quizzical look as Mr. Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent.
The rest began to follow, and Harry felt his jaw dropped. He walked what looked like an old-fashioned three-room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. He and Evan shared a look of amazement and they quickly ducked out to look at the girls' tent, which was the same but slightly smaller. Outside again the twins grinned at each other.
"You totally thought that they would be normal tents, didn't you?" Evan asked.
"I mean… they look like Muggle tents," Harry said in his defense. "I thought we were going to have to pile on top of each other!"
"Mmm… I wouldn't mind piling myself on top of Cedric," Evan said, hugging himself. Harry only gave him a confused, quizzical look. Evan saw this and gave an annoyed sigh, "You'll understand when you're older Harry."
"I am older!"
"Then you'll understand when you're older still," Evan said with a smile.
Harry frowned at his brother, "You really need to stop hanging out with Seamus and Dean so much, I don't know what they've taught you." Evan laughed hard and slapped Harry's back, "You'll find out soon enough Harry, I mean… haven't you had any changes? Any… hardening when you feel happy?"
Harry stared at Evan, completely confused. Evan sighed and said, "I'm going back in the tent." He ducked inside, leaving Harry alone. Wanting to stretch his legs, Harry decided he was going to go for a walk. "Mr. Weasley, I'm going to go for a walk, look around," he said into the tent.
"Alright Harry!" Mr. Weasley called out. Harry loitered a moment as he heard Mr. Weasley ask Hermione, Ron, and Evan to fetch water from a tap somewhere in this camp while the rest gathered firewood.
Free from the tasks, Harry began wandering the sea of tents that stretched in every direction. It wasn't long before Harry lost he way, too enamored by the strange looking tents and the stranger looking people inside. In his distracted state, he did not see where he was going. He felt a hard mass in front of him, then fell to the ground.
"Are you alright?" a boy's voice asked.
Groaning slightly, Harry blinked a few times before registering that there was an outstretched hand in front of him. Harry grasped it and the boy pulled him to his feet. "Thanks…" Harry lost the word to the wind as he stared at the handsome face of the boy he ran into.
He was on the pale side with a skinny face, dark eyes stared at Harry with a curious look as his black hair blew gently in the wind. He had a nice, soft smile and was dressed like an old-time muggle with a vest and tie and black slacks. He looked more like a grandfather than a teenager, yet Harry thought that it fitted the boy perfectly. "S-Sorry…" Harry blushed.
"It is all right, however you really should watch where you are walking," the boy smiled. Harry nodded, his heart beating fast. "I'm Tom, by the way," the boy said.
"Harry…" Harry said, noticing that Tom was still holding his hand. He never wanted him to let go.
"Harry," Tom purred his name. Harry liked how it sounded in the boy's mouth. "It is very nice to meet you, Harry," the boy said, his lips lifting into a strange smiling smirk.
"Harry!"
Harry turned around to see Evan, Ron, and Hermione walking up to him. "Harry! I was wondering where you were!" Evan panted.
"I was just walking where I met—" Harry turned around, only to see that Tom wasn't there anymore. Frowning in confusion, he spun around looking for the boy, but only saw strange tents and its occupants instead. "He was… just here…"
"Who was?" Evan asked.
"This boy… I ran into him and he helped me up," Harry frowned.
"Oh well," Evan shrugged. "Anyway, Mr. Weasley wants us to get water for the tents, can you help?"
"Y-Yeah… sure," Harry nodded. He looked around one last time in desperate search for the boy before giving up and joining his brother. As they began to walk more around the field, Harry felt something brush inside his pocket. His face frowning in thought, he reached in and pulled out a small strip of parchment that he was sure he did not put in himself. On the parchment was a neat scrip that read:
I'll see you at Hogwarts, Harry Potter. Be Good.
Tom