Author's note:
Because the question begs an answer. More answers regarding the mobile omnioculars will come in later chapters. For now, know that they are a prototype. Also, they really don't have anything particularly important to do with the story. They just gave me something to do with the twins because you really can't have enough of Fred and George in the story.
Sorcerer's Muse.
Harry Potter and the Heir of Morgaine Le Faye
Chapter 9: Beloved Baby Sisters and Apple Pie
The latest addition to the empire of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was located on Taishanese Way in the wizarding section of San Francisco's Chinatown. Since its opening, eight months ago, it was where you could find Fred, George or both on any given day. With the Hippogriffs' second stop of the season opening road trip bringing them to the San Francisco Bay Area for their match with the Leprechauns, Harry reasoned it was the perfect opportunity to check up on his business partners. That, and he needed a prank or two. Ginny had been right about his teammates never letting his spewing on the team trainer's shoes go. He was quite itching to turn the tables in their practical joke war. Harry stepped in the door and let it close behind him, the bell jangling loudly.
A young man, stocking items on the shelves, set the box in his hands down and hurried up to him. "Is there something I can… Merlin's beard you're," he stopped mid exclamation and went back to his job. "Sorry, sir, is there something I might help you find? We have some new fireworks; perfect for locker room victory celebrations."
Harry chuckled. "Nice recovery, Ernie," he said, reading the young man's name off his badge. "What'd they threaten you with?"
Ernie turned red and nervously glanced around the shop. "Can't say, it'll kick in."
Harry laughed again. "Well, you're braver than I am. I wouldn't work for these nutters for all the galleons in Gringotts."
Ernie grinned. "It's not so bad. They let me help mix most of the potions they use in the products."
"Is that so," Harry asked, impressed with his enthusiasm.
"Yes, it made potions a breeze my last year of school."
"You know," Harry said, "it always surprised me how well those two did on their exams."
"He did really well in school," Fred said, backing into the room. "He's a great disappointment to us, Ernie is." He turned around and spotted Harry.
Harry grinned at him. "Actually, I was talking about you and George."
"Oy, George!" Fred hollered over his shoulder. "Come see who's here."
George poked his head out of the back room. His eyes brightened when he saw Harry and his gaze moved to Ernie. "Now, Ernie, didn't we tell you this was a high class establishment?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Here we go."
Ernie glanced between the twins and Harry. Are they really going to start in on Harry Potter, he wondered.
"And that you weren't suppose to let people like this in?" Fred added.
"People who," George said, picking up the paper on the counter.
"Would take advantage of our baby sister," Fred said. He pointed to the picture of Harry and his teammate, Heather Mitts, emblazoned on the front of the sports section.
"Not just take advantage of her," George corrected.
"But two-time her with some…." Fred said
"Two bit tart?" George provided.
"Trollope," Fred said.
"Scarlet woman," George countered.
"Right," Fred agreed. He drew his wand. "What should we do with him?" Harry backed up. You could never be too sure with the twins.
"Congratulate him, I should think," George said.
"Congratulate him?" Fred asked with genuine surprise.
"We'll certainly if he was two-timing our baby sister," George said.
"Beloved, baby sister," Fred corrected. He waved his wand in Harry's direction.
"Right, our beloved, baby sister."
"She'd have killed him already."
"Twice, likely," George said.
"And he couldn't be standing here in front of us if she had," Fred surmised
"Which means…" George began.
"Congratulations?" Fred asked again.
"Too right. Have you seen this Mitts bird?" George asked.
Fred put his wand away. "She's…"
"Built." George suggested.
"Stacked," Fred provided.
"And how," George agreed.
"Enough to make a wizard wonder,"
"Are you really dating her?" they both asked.
Harry grinned. "No."
"No?" the twins asked, their eyebrows cocked.
"No," Harry reiterated.
"And we already know you're not two-timing our baby sister," George said.
"Beloved, baby sister," Fred corrected again.
"Right," George agreed.
"Which means we don't have to kill you ourselves," Fred concluded.
"And can therefore ask you," George said
"Can you introduce us to her?" the twins asked together.
"Not to our sister," George said.
"Baby sister," Fred corrected.
"Beloved, baby sister," George amended.
"Right you are, dear brother," Fred agreed.
"But to Miss Mitts," they said together.
Harry laughed and handed over an envelope. "Tickets and locker room passes. Though I'm warning Mitts."
George crossed the room and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Harry, you're a mate."
"More than a mate," Fred said, sorting through the contents of the envelope.
"Family," George said.
"Like a brother, I've always said," Fred agreed, pretending to wipe a tear from his face.
"But if you hurt our baby sister," George said.
"Beloved, baby sister," Fred corrected.
"We'll kill you," they said together.
Harry held his hand up. "Enough. Where can we talk?"
"Back room," George said, leading the way. "You aren't dating her are you?" he asked under his breath.
"Who?" Harry asked.
"Our baby sister," George said.
"Beloved, baby sister," Fred shouted.
"Right," George agreed. "You aren't dating her, are you? Cause if you are, we'd have to talk, Harry."
Before he followed them, Fred glanced at Ernie. "You're working Saturday right?"
Ernie nodded. "Yes."
Fred held out two tickets. "Here, take the day, with pay. We'll close the shop instead. I'd give you passes for the locker room too, but there's only two and George'd skin me alive if I gave you his. I'll get you an autograph or two instead. Ok?"
"Whatever you say, Fred," Ernie said, eagerly taking the tickets from him.
"Don't let anyone bother us, Ernie," Fred said before closing the door to the back room.
Ginny rolled over in her bed in her London flat and blearily blinked at the clock. "Urgh," she groaned. "Bleeding apparation lag." She clumsily sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Of course stopping Harry from plummeting to great bodily harm hadn't helped any. The magical energy required to focus that charm over a distance of nearly a half kilometer and a height of almost a hundred meters was no small feat. Nor was it a small matter to simply apparate across an entire ocean. Not many sorcerers were capable of it. Even those who were generally preferred to portkey. But growing up poor, meant that even now when she was rich, she saved money where she could. And an international apparation visa was much cheaper than purchasing a ticket on an international portkey. With the way her body felt, she was beginning to think she should have bought the portkey ticket.
Ginny rolled her head from side to side and stretched her back; sighing with pleasure with each pop and crack. She glanced at the clock again.
11:32.
Deciding it wasn't going to get any earlier if she just lay there, she kicked off the covers and made her way towards the bathroom.
She paused to stroke her companion fern when it snaked a frond across the floor to greet her. "Yes, I've missed you too," she said. The plant slid a frond up and down Ginny's leg. She swatted at it. "Stop, tickling." The plant shook all over, its fronds swishing together as if blown by the wind. "Yes, you are funny," Ginny agreed. She poured the remnants of the glass from her nightstand into the planter and resumed her trudge to the bathroom. The plant let out a loud belch just as she closed the door. "Definitely male," Ginny muttered to herself.
An hour later, a fresh picked apple from her mother's orchard in hand, Ginny sat down at the Burrow's kitchen table and pulled her mother's copy of Witch Weekly from the counter top. Despite giving her mother hell about the tabloid, Ginny secretly loved that she was a regular subscriber. It allowed her to indulge her inner gossip without having to suffer the embarrassment of buying the rag herself. She took a bite of the apple and promptly started choked on it when she read the first headline.
WEASLEY SAVES BEAU ONLY TO BE DUMPED THE SAME DAY?
The headline was followed by three pictures. One showed her with her wand drawn while stopping Harry's fall from his broom at his quidditch match the previous day. A second showed Heather Mitts, joyously lifting Harry into the air at the end of the match. And a third, showed Heather and Harry locked in an embrace in the tunnel coming out of the locker rooms. Ginny watched the scenes in the three photos play through a number of times before beginning to read the article.
Did former London Lions' seeker Ginny Weasley save her boyfriend, current New York Hippogriffs' seeker, Harry Potter, only to find out latter that she had been dumped in favor of Harry's current teammate, chaser, Heather Mitts? Neither Harry, Ginny, nor Heather could be reached for comment, but this reporter's sources say, it's true. Of course both Harry and Ginny have been denying rumors of their relationship for weeks. But sources say that after the match, there was a heated argument between the fiery redhead (turned brunette) and the Hippogriffs' golden boy. Exactly what was said behind closed doors remains a mystery, but Ministry records indicate that, after an extended stay in the United States, the recently minted brunette returned to England just last night. Coincidence? This reporter thinks not.
Ginny's face turned red, and she could feel her blood pressure beginning to build. It was galling how easily they could twist the truth. She and Harry had gotten into it a bit after the match. If memory served, she had screamed, 'It's bloody quidditch, not goddamned Voldemort.' at him. Harry had angrily retorted she was a hypocrite because she couldn't stand there for even one second and tell him she wouldn't have done exactly the same thing.
The ensuing silence and glares had been broken when they both burst into peals of laughter. Harry had thanked her for saving him from himself. And she had told him, as saving people was his foible, not hers, he shouldn't expect her to make a habit of it. As to reports of her returning to England, as she was currently in her mother's kitchen, of course they were true.
Beyond that, it was a simple matter to check the ministry ledgers and apparation records. They were public record after all. Any good, or even not so good, reporter or investigator new it. What the article failed to tell, was that her arrangements for an international apparation visa for last night had been made more than two weeks in advance. Hell, you couldn't even get an international apparation visa with less than twenty-four hours notice.
Ginny crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it towards the hearth. Just as it hit the flames they flared and her mother stepped out of the fire. "Oh, those two," she sighed with exasperation. Obviously convinced the twins had set up some kind of prank for arriving guests the last time they had been home. She brushed the soot off her robes and picked up the crumpled paper from where it had landed after hitting her in the head.
"Sorry, mum," Ginny giggled. "I was just trying to burn the paper."
"GINNY!" Molly exclaimed. She rushed across the room and enveloped her daughter in a crushing embrace. "You're home. Oh, I'm so happy to see you. Are you staying for supper? I'll make your favorite," she tried to bribe her.
"Mum…Can't….Breathe," Ginny gasped.
"What? Oh, sorry sweetie," Molly said. Though she let Ginny go she continued to fuss over her. Ginny quickly took in a huge gulp of air. "Well at least you've been eating. And the sun was good for you. You've got a nice healthy glow about you." Molly brushed at Ginny's hair. "When are you going to change this back?"
"I like it," Ginny testily replied.
"I do to, but I want my daughter back."
"I'm still your daughter," Ginny said.
"You know what I mean, Ginevra."
Ginny sighed. She really didn't want to fight with her mother right now. "If you must know, I'm going to have it changed again in a few weeks… But you can't tell anyone," she quickly added.
Molly smiled, closed her mouth, pretended to zip and lock her lips and then tossed the pretend key away. "Good, I'm not sure this family can stand having two brunettes in it."
"Mother," Ginny gasped, scandalized.
"I'm teasing. You know I love Hermione."
"Good thing, that, seeing she's married to your son. And they're likely to produce a brown haired child or two."
Molly beamed with anticipation. "I can hardly wait for their third. Hermione's convinced it's a girl. I told her Weasleys only have boys, but she won't hear it. She claims some muggle doctor told her it was a girl; something about an ultranoisy, or some such nonsense. I told her no one can predict the sex of a baby till it shows up. But she won't hear that either and you know how she gets."
Ginny giggled. She did know how Hermione could get. She also knew how her mother could get. It seemed, even if you weren't born into it, being headstrong was a prerequisite for being part of the Weasley family. She didn't bother telling her mother that muggles had figured out some machine that could tell them the sex of an unborn baby years ago. It would fall on deaf ears. Instead, she asked, "Can we invite them to dinner?" She could hardly wait to talk to Hermione. She was going to be an aunt again. And this time she'd be getting a niece. She'd no longer be the baby girl of the family!
"We most certainly can," Molly said. "We should invite Bill and his too."
"Sounds wonderful," Ginny said.
"But you'll have to help me," Molly said. "It's a bit short on notice, and I'm not as young as I use to be."
"Sure thing, mum. What can I do?"
"For starters, let's go pick some more apples." Molly grabbed a basket and headed for the orchard. "I feel like making a pie."
"Sounds delicious," Ginny agreed, following along behind her.
They walked in happy silence till they reached the orchard. "That bunch there looks good," Molly said. She pointed to a group of apples that looked to be particularly large and brightly colored.
"I agree," Ginny said. She summoned the ladder from the shed. Set it in place and headed up.
Molly raised an eye. "You're doing wandless magic again?"
Ginny shrugged. "I don't want to lose the ability so I've started practicing it again." Molly nodded slightly and handed the basket up to Ginny once she had reached the top. Ginny began to fill it. "Do you want enough for just the pie, or should I pick more?"
"Go ahead and fill the basket, dear. It's better for the tree when they're handpicked, and I'm getting too old to climb up this ladder anymore."
Ginny smiled to herself. "You're not that old, mum."
"Thank you, dear," Molly replied. They were quiet for a few moments before Molly innocently inquired, "And how is Harry?"
"He's well, mum. Very happy."
"Mmmm," Molly mused. Ginny smirked. She was actually quite surprised it had taken her mother this long and wondered just how long she'd be able to hold out. "That's all you're going to say?"
"What else would you like me to say?" Ginny asked.
"You've been living in his house for the past month, and all you can say is, 'He's well. Very happy.'"
"Well, he is."
"Ginevra," Molly said. Her tone was somewhere between reprimanding and whinging.
Ginny plucked a last apple from the tree, put it in the basket and handed it down to her mother before climbing down and banishing the ladder to the shed. "He's happy, mum. He looks great. He's eating well. Dobby and Trilly both dote on him. He loves quidditch and spends most of his free time either watching muggle picture shows or going to NASCAR races. He's pretty good friends with the team's keeper, Luke St. James. He's well, what else would you like me to say."
"What about all the articles that say you and he are dating now?"
Ginny headed for the house. "Lies," she said.
"What about that one this morning? You must have been pretty upset to want to burn it."
"I was angry at how they twisted the truth."
"So it is true, you were dating him."
"No," Ginny said. "We're not dating. We never were. Harry isn't dating Heather Mitts either."
"But you just said," Molly started. Ginny sighed and launched into an explanation of what had really happened yesterday. By the time she finished they were back in the Burrow's kitchen. Ginny set the apples on the counter and with a flick of her wrist set them to peeling.
Molly eyed her critically. "I warned you something like this would happen."
"So I'm never supposed to be seen with Harry? Because it will provide more fodder to sully my already sterling reputation?"
"I didn't say that," Molly snapped.
"Good," Ginny retorted.
"Still, it's good you're home. It's not right for an unmarried girl to stay-"
"I'm going back after the match against the Magpies," Ginny interrupted. Molly dropped the pie dish she was pulling down from the shelf. Ginny waved her hand. "Reparo," she muttered.
"Ginny," Molly pleaded, "it's not right for you to be staying with him."
Ginny picked up the plate and set it on the countertop before pulling the flour canister out. "Don't start, mum."
"Ginevra."
"Don't Ginevra, me. I'm twenty-six years old, mother. I'll make my own decisions about what's proper and what's not."
"Ginny, please," Molly tried again.
Ginny shoved the flour canister away and turned to face her mother. "Do you want me to stay for dinner or not?"
"What?" Molly asked flustered.
"Do. You. Want. Me. To. Stay. For. Dinner. Or. Not?" Ginny reiterated.
"Yes, of course I do," Molly quickly said. "You know I do."
"Then drop it," Ginny said. She turned back around and began measuring out the flour for the pie crust. Molly watched her for a moment before pulling the lard from the pantry and setting it on the counter for her. "Thank you," Ginny said quietly
"You're welcome," Molly replied just as softly.
Ginny turned and hugged her. "I know you're just watching out for me."
Molly patted her back and sniffled. "I just hate seeing those articles with all those lies about you."
Ginny pushed away from her. "Then stop buying the magazine," she said, half teasing, half serious.
Molly smirked slightly. "If I did that, then how would you or Hermione ever get to read it?" she teased.
"Hermione reads it?" Ginny squealed gleefully.
Molly glanced around conspiratorially. "She thinks I don't know. But I've caught her a number of times with it."
Ginny giggled. "She'd be so embarrassed if she knew you knew."
"Yes, she would," Molly agreed. She turned to the counter and the beginnings of the pie crust again. "Now what else do you need?"
"Cinnamon," Ginny said.
Molly handed it to her and watched approvingly while Ginny worked a bit of it into the pie crust. "Never thought to do that."
"It just kind of came to me now," Ginny said. "I figured why not."
"It should be tasty," Molly said. "Ginny?" she asked after a second.
"Yes?" Ginny replied, thinking her mother was going to start in on her again.
"What's a nacsar?"
"NASCAR," Ginny corrected before launching into an explanation.
By the time she finished, her mother was sitting in the chair and her face had gone white. "And you've been in one of these cars?" she asked weakly.
Ginny nodded enthusiastically. "It was a blast, mum. Dad would just love it." Molly's eyes widened in alarm. "If you so much as mention it to your father, I'll disown you." Ginny laughed, and mimicking her mother from earlier in the day zipped and locked her lips together. "And the next time I ask something like that, you just tell me I don't want to know."
"I promise, mum. No more stories of my adventures in the muggle world," Ginny said. "Now what should we do next?"
"You can peel the potatoes while I get the roast ready," Molly said pulling out the pans. Glad to be home again; even if only for a short time Ginny set to work happily regaling her mum with stories of her visit to Harry's.
Author's note:
A bit of a short chapter. The next one makes up for it. I promise.
Sorcerer's Muse