"A knut!" Fred exclaimed showing a rusty bronze coin to his twin.
"That's pathetic!" George said in exasperation. "At this rate we'll be in our third year at Hogwarts before we get those broomsticks."
Fred pulled a magazine from atop his bedside table, the cover read, 'Magnetic Magic! Prank your friends, jinx your enemies, and show off your skill with these tips and tricks!'
He flipped to a page that had been marked, 'Huge Sale' in blazon red letters headed the page. 'New at Quality Quidditch Supply! The new Fury 15! A state of the art broomstick! Dazzle your friends with the broom that actually hovers! Complete with a holly handle and foot placements! Choose between our quality colors, blue, red, green, yellow, black, and gold! Now for the low price of one Galleon and three Sickles! But our deals don't end there, if you buy one now we will give you a second half off in the color of your choice! Through October only. FREE SHIPPING! Ages 5-10. Must be of age to order, under aged witches and wizards must have a parent or gaurdian's signature, owl upon request.'
Fred sighed, he tossed the knut into a clear bowl on top of their dresser.
"You think that's bad?" George moaned, look at what the Lovegoods gave me in return for my work." he said miserably holding up a reddish radish.
"What in Merlin's name it that?" Fred asked flabbergasted.
"I don't know." said George, "He said that it was suppose to bring good luck or something. And can you guess what I had to do for it?"
"Well you said your were going to de-gnome their garden." Fred replied.
"I was!' George exclaimed. "But he actually likes them! He said that they harness magical powers or 'somthin. No, he had me catch all the lace-wing-flies in a jar, rub the jar against the every wall in that house then let them go! He said that rubbin a jar of lace-wing-flies against the wall will ward off bumbonoos, which don't exists by the way. And he expected me to be pleased when he handed me this radish, I think that he was offended when I asked if he wanted me to make him a stew now too."
"We're already halfway through October and no closer to gettin those Fury 15's then when we started!" The twins fell onto their beds miserably.
"Is there anyone we've forgotten to ask?" asked George.
"I sent an owl to aunt Muriel asking for a few sickles. She sent a howler back. I think she's still upset about us turning her hat into a rat." replied Fred.
"You know who we haven't asked?" Fred continued, "Mrs. Jostie."
"Oh come off it" George laughed, "We haven't got a chance with her."
"Why not?"
"Because we threw a filibuster firework through her window on Valentines Day remember?"
"I thought that was Mrs. Rucklbie." George replied.
"I was just curious how far it would go, I had no idea that it would light her kitchen on fire."
"Oh yeah," George remembered. "Worst whipping in memory I think. But besides mom turning purple with rage, blowing up that kitchen was worth it."
"Do you think we should ask?" said Fred.
"It cant hurt as much as those lashes." replied George. "How much money do we need?"
Fred walked toward the bowl of money and pored it out onto his bed. George joined him to help count.
"Twenty-six Sickles, and seventeen Knuts." George said, "Not bad, we're a lot further than we thought. So all that we need now is..."
"Two Sickles and twenty-six Knuts." Fred finished. "We can find 'something' to do for that much."
"I'll put my shoes back on and we can head to Mrs. Jostie's" said George.
Fred knocked on the big yellow door to the old ladies house a half hour later.
"Who is it? What do you want?" said a cranky voice from inside. A hazy gray eye appeared in one of window panes. "Red hair?" She yelled. "Weasleys?"
"Umm, yeah, we're saving money for-" But George's sentence was cut short.
"Twins!" she exclaimed pressing her entire face to the window. "You blew up my kitchen! Get out! Get away from my house!" They could hear her feet scuttling away from the door."
"We're working for money, We're good at de-gnoming!" Fred had to yell.
They could hear her stop and walk back to the door more slowly this time. "How much are you wanting?" she asked her eye back on the window pane.
"Umm..." Fred looked at his twin.
"Three Sickles." George finished.
The old lady thought for a moment, then they could hear her unlocking the door.
The door swung open, and before them was a sour, squat witch with her hair in a tight bun and very visible frown lines around her mouth.
"Fine." she said. "But be sure that you spin them well, they always fine their way back somehow."
The twins followed her into a old and sickly sweet smelling house and to the back door.
"Alright," she said. "And don't come back in until all the work it done." And she scuttled back into the house leaving them standing in front of the glass door.
The boys swung it open and walked out. A couple ugly potato looking gnomes shuffled about the garden.
"This shouldn't be to hard." said George grabbing a gnome by its angle and swinging it past the garden wall.
Fred grabbed the second one and began the swing, "Ow!" he exclaimed dropping the gnome. One had just bit him on the ankle.
"Here they come." said George.
And sure enough, little potato like heads started poking out of the ground.
"There's quite a few." said Fred as six more popped out. "Well, six, ten... Merlin."
There were now thirty running across the ground and still coming.
Fred looked at George in horror. Hours passed sweat pored from the boys as they worked, and with the sharp teeth of the gnomes, blood too.
Fred and George walked back through the back door as the sun began to set.
Mrs. Jostie examined the garden and not seeing one gnome, dropped three Sickles into Fred's blistered and bitten hands. And it was sweet to leave that house.
"We've got the money!" Fred skipped. "We can have dad send the owl when he gets back from the ministry."
The boys got back to the house and ran up the stairs and into their room.
But when they got there, the smiles were slapped off their faces.
"Ron! You little prat!" Fred exclaimed. Sitting on their bedroom floor was their younger brother Ron, who was three. And all across the ground was their money, Ron was trying to fit the glass bowl, which had held their money, onto his teddy bears head like a hat.
Fred stormed out of his room and yelled down the banister to his mother,
"Mum! Ron's just ruined-"
"I can't talk now I'm busy George!" Called his mom from downstairs. You could hear Ginevra screaming from in her mom's arms.
"I'm not George I'm Fred!" he yelled annoyed. He walked back in the room. George was counting the loose the coins that he had already picked up, Ron was still playing with the bowl. Fred took the bowl from him.
Ron scowled and cried, "No! It's mine! Give it back!"
"No," Fred replied, "This is yours, now get out." he grabbed the stuffed bear and thrust it into Ron's arms and pushed him out of the room.
He looked at George who looked sour. "Two Sickles. We're missing two Sickles."
The twins spent the rest of the day on their hands and knees in search for those two Sickles. They had tried to get Ron to find the money considering that he lost it. Ron was no help, and during their third search they turned to find Ron, he cheeks stuffed with their Entire stash of Droobles Best Blowing Gum.
After hours they had finally found one of the two Sickles inside Georges half eaten cauldron cake on his bedside table. "What the," George said digging his fingers inside of the stale pastry.
"So we have enough for the broomsticks, we need to ask dad to order it." said Fred.
"But I would still like to find our Sickle." he got up and walked to Ron's room. "Oye!" George exclaimed when he opened the door.
Fred joined his twin. And rage spread across both of their faces. Ron, sitting on his bed with his hands behind his back.
"He was hiding something!" George exclaimed.
Fred stomped over there and jerked from Ron's hands whatever he was holding. Fred looked at whatever he was holding. It was a gigantic wad of wet, slimy, squashy, multicolored chewing gum.
"Agh!" Exclaimed Fred as he thew it on the ground. It made a horrible 'splat' sound.
"What a moment." Said George walking toward it. There was something shiny in it. George reached down and picked it back up. He wrinkled his nose as he was forced to rip apart the wad. And sure enough and pulled out of the gum, a shiny, silver, Sickle.
A week later Fred and George were still furious with the fact that Ron had tried to smuggle their money. But some of their anger dwindled away with the arrival of their new Fury 15's.
They had arrived that morning carried by five owls. They were glorious, one, beautifully scarlet, the other bright gold.
"They're beautiful." Fred said as the broomsticks hovered gracefully in mid air. "George, you grab our robes, and I'll grab the quaffle." Since the brooms could only hover, that version of quiddich wasn't going to be that intresting, but to six year old's it would be brilliant.
The boys ran down the stairs excitedly. The robes were found in the laundry but the quaffle was a bit more difficult to find. They searched and searched and finally found Charlie who was rolling it back and forth with little Ginny.
"Can we use that?" asked George.
Charlie threw the quaffle behind him without looking and lunged at Ginny, picking her up and throwing her into the air as she laughed.
The boys ran up the stairs, robes thrown over one arm and a quaffle under the other.
They ran into their room and a horrible sight awaited them, Ron, standing with a teddy bear in his arms the golden broom in front of him and the red one... gone.
"Ron!" yelled Fred. "Where's my broomstick?"
Ron looked out the window, the broken window.
Fred ran to the window. And to his horror, there lay his broomstick.
It lay, in the garden being torn apart twig by twig, by gnomes. They chewed the handle, tore the tail out, and a particularly fat one was trying to break the handle.
Fred yelled and ran down the stairs and out to the garden. By the time that he got there the fat gnome had succeeded.
Fred made his way up the stairs five minuets later holding his broom like a sick child and joined his brothers. His arms were badly bitten by a fierce battle with the army of gnomes who were determined to keep the broom.
Fred placed the mangled broom on his bed. It was pathetic. It had but five twigs left, the handle was cracked nearly in two, and paint was scratched bad enough that one could hardly tell that it was once red.
Fred said nothing, this was what he had worked so hard for, this is what he had spent hours of sweat on, what he had saved for, why he had turned his nose from dungbombs, and look at it now.
Fred picked it up, held it in midair, and let go, it fell sadly to the ground, it did not hover.
George said nothing, he too, was in shock. Fred's depressed face began to turn red so red that it matched with his hair. He scowled at Ron so hard that his face was now turning purple.
George noticed something happening to Ron's teddy bear. It- it began to grown sharp hairs, then long horns grew from the bears sides. The horns seemed to become legs, then the snout became pincers.
Ron looked down in horror as in his arms he held a great hairy spider. It snapped at his face and Ron dropped it. He screamed, a high pitch horrible scream and ran out of the room. The spider chasing after him and down the staircase.
"Fred!?" George yelled.
"Don't say it." Fred replied.
"What? That was ruddy brilliant!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" they heard a terrible scream from downstairs. "Mum!" they chorused.