Chapter III
"Look at it!" Hermione said when she and Ron arrived outside the new Weasley home. "It looks just like it's been there for ages."
"Yeah," said Ron with a sigh. "It looks like home."
Hermione squeezed his hand, and they shared a smile before walking in.
"Uuuugh!" moaned George from the living room sofa.
"George? Is that you?" Ron asked as he quickly went to check on him. George's face was white and pasty with sores in various places. He was wrapped in a quilt.
"You look awful, mate," Ron said. "What's the matter? You got the flu?"
"Worse than that, I'm afraid," George whispered. "Had an accident today while creating a new potion for the store. Mum and Dad have gone to find Professor Slughorn. He's the only one who might know how to counter-act it."
"Can we do anything?" asked Hermione.
"I'm afraid not," came the reply. "I've really done it this time. It was supposed to be a sleeping potion, but it's slowly shutting down all my vital organs. It's gotten worse and worse over the last couple of hours, and I don't know if I can hold on much longer."
"George," Ron said as he dropped to his knees and took his hand. "Hang in there, mate. Professor Slughorn can fix this. They'll be back before you know it."
"Ron…" said George.
"Yeah?"
"Tell Mum and Dad I love them."
"Tell them yourself, stupid." He looked back at Hermione who stood shaking and in tears.
Then George stiffened, took a deep breath, held it for a few second, closed his eyes, and slowly exhaled. When he didn't immediately take another breath, Hermione yelled, "No! Don't do this to us, George! Don't do this to your family!"
Just then, a silvery white ghost rose out of George into the air. It floated to the ceiling. Ron and Hermione took a few steps back and watched.
"George?" Ron said.
"Gotcha!" Fred replied. George sat bolt upright on the couch, and they both laughed at Hermione and Ron.
"Sick, sick, sick!" Hermione said, still sobbing. "How cruel and heartless can you be!"
"My brothers," said Ron, shaking his head.
"Well after being dead, I had to make a grand entrance, don't you think?" Fred said, as chipper as you please.
"Come here!" Hermione said as she went to hug Fred, but she fell right through him headlong into the couch.
Ron finally managed a smile, still shaking his head. "You two are a menace! Will you ever stop?"
"Never!" they both said in harmony. George stood up and hugged Ron. Fred put his ghostly arms around both of them. "Come on in," he said to Hermione who obliged.
"It's so good to see you!" Hermione said.
"It's nice to be back home," Fred said, "but honestly, I've never enjoyed Hogwarts so much!"
"Where are Mum and Dad, really?" Ron asked.
"Oh, they really did go see Professor Slughorn," George said. "That part was true." He was wiping the make up off his face with a towel. "They'll be back shortly. They know you're here."
Hermione said, "Fred, I don't mean to be insensitive, but I'm really curious. Why did you stay?"
"Because I thought if I go, you all would just sit around talking to my photographs. My photographs would talk back! I couldn't have that. What if they got things wrong? Or worse, what if they got things right and told you all my dirty little secrets? So I had to come back to defend myself against my own pictures." He put his hand on his chin. "It never struck me as weird until now that pictures can talk."
"You have a point," Hermione said, then turned to Ron. "Can you imagine how Crazy Horse would feel about that?"
"Who's Crazy Horse?" asked Fred.
"Oh," said Ron, "He's a native American who fought for the Sioux at the Battle of Little Bighorn in the 1870's. He never would let anybody take his picture because he thought it would steal his soul."
Fred and George smiled at each other. "We could have some fun with somebody like that."