AN: Okay, we're moving in a straight line now, no more back and forth, all happening on the same night, the night we've been going back to now and again.
"Five Sickles someone's coming to get me within a minute," George muttered to the ceiling, seeing the golden glow of the sunlight almost gone.
"I'm not betting against a sure thing," Fred answered, casting a glance over at his grim-looking brother. "Hey, lighten up! It isn't the end of the world, you know."
"No, but it'll be the end of my taste-buds," George retorted as he sat up. "Heard the Wolfsbane tastes horribly, and the worse it tastes, the more it actually works." He made a face and shuddered.
"Well, can't say I envy you that," Fred said, shaking his head. "At least you won't go berserk and kill half the village."
"Thanks," George answered dryly. "If it works, I won't. If it don't, I'll do Charlie in first, make Bill experience what damage a transformed werewolf can do, gnaw Nox's bones dry for dessert, then nip upstairs for a snack on Mum and Dad," he rambled, before ending it all with a groan while burying his face in his hands.
Fred calmly placed a hand on George's shoulder, before stating gravely, "You, my friend, have a bad case of nerves." George peeked up between his fingers, then snorted, he had a right to be more than a tad nervous. "And you know you haven't been doing yourself a favour by moping in here all day. Now, let's go down, crack a few jokes on the others' behalf, down a goblet of what most likely tastes like Snape's underwear boiled in tar and have a great night outside! It's not raining, it's not windy, and Charlie brought some booze, he'll be belting out 'The King is Gone' before the clock strikes three."
"And such a lovely voice he has, too," George said sarcastically. With a sigh he nonetheless got up.
–
Nox found herself curled up in an arm-chair, absently watching Bill carefully measure up George's dose of potion.
"Man, I'm glad I'm not the one forced to drink that stuff," Charlie commented, already halfway down in his second glass of whisky. "It smells like... Well, honestly, it smells like the nappy of a dying child."
"How picturesque," Bill said, setting the goblet on the table before reaching for his own glass of whisky as the twins entered.
"Merlin's pants, Charlie, take a shower!" was George's first comment, pinching his nose shut. "Did you roll in dragon dung before you came here, or what?"
"Ha, ha," Charlie retorted dryly, still grinning like an idiot, both in anticipation and in the reassurance that George was taking it all with a light heart.
"Aww, little Noxy-poo has fallen asleep," Fred cooed, patting Nox's hair and making an attempt at cover her with a quilt, even though her eyes were absolutely open and glaring at him.
"I'm not sleeping, you snot-rag," she retorted when he made some progress of fishing the blanket over her legs.
"Well, you should be," Fred answered, crossing his arms and looking down his nose at her. "It's long past bed time for little eight-year-olds like yourself."
"Get bent," she hissed back. The little row was broken by Bill clearing his throat and gesturing towards the gold-rimmed goblet with a look at George. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, George picked up the potion, doing his best to breath through his mouth to avoid the putrid smell as he lifted it towards his lips, and downed it all in one motion.
"Good Godric!" Shudders ran through his body as he haphazardly put the goblet down to reach for one of the whisky glasses. Before either of his older brothers had time to react, he had drained that, too, which luckily erased most of the taste.
"You better pray that didn't ruin it," Bill told him in a hard voice. He had spent a lot of time on the potion, making sure everything down to the slightest detail was right, and on top of it produced a golden goblet for it to be drunk from for maximum effect.
"We'll find out soon enough," Charlie said, glancing out the window. "Sun's almost down." With a slightly shaking grin, George descended the stairs to the cellar, hoping the transformation went as smooth and pain-free as possible, and that he had not ruined the effect of the potion with the whisky. Fred followed him, confident it all went problem-free and the precaution of having him there to supervise and tell the other's it was safe was simply not necessary.
Once they were down on the packed earth floor, the door was bolted behind them and the room cast in near darkness. George's eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness and he could soon make out the clothing lines behind Fred.
"D'you think it's gonna hurt a lot?" Fred asked nonchalantly after half a minute in silence.
"Not more than having my ear blown off," George answered absentmindedly. He knew all that stood between him, and Bill, Charlie and Nox was a couple of flimsy wooden boards. His parents were upstairs in their bedroom and the rest of the village didn't even have an idea what was going on. They would be taken completely by surprise.
"Feel any different yet?" Fred questioned, leaning against the wall. George shrugged, just as he felt his spine bend and stretch in an unfamiliar way. Seeing a fault in their plan, he quickly tore off his shirt and got as far as wrenching his jeans down to mid-thigh before the transformation really got started.
It was nothing like anything he had experienced earlier and nothing he could have envisioned before feeling it. It all seemed to happen at the same time, yet it felt like everything took forever. Some of his bones were stretched, other shrunk, yet other disappeared and new ones popped up. He could feel his kneecaps melting away and his fingers shortening, his feet stretching to unbelievable length as he fell forward on now fur-covered paws. Muscles were sliding around under his skin, feeling more like rubber bands than flesh. He lost all track of time in the nauseating feeling of his brain liquifying to fit his changing skull. His ribs produced forward, his waist narrowed, squeezing his intestines for a moment, before those too relocated. His heart was beating fast and his ears, now pointy and higher on his head registered his own whimpers and groans with painful accuracy.
Then, suddenly, or maybe it had been that way for a while already, it stopped. He had another body, but still it didn't feel too foreign. He knew exactly where everything was, the paws on the floor, the tail slowly wagging back and forth, the tongue slightly stuck out between open jaws.
"You okay?" Fred asked, clearly shocked and not likely to speak in anything but mutters. George narrowed his yellow eyes at the ghost, sizing him up, then let out a happy bark and ran over, doing his best to nuzzle the transparent form, snorting as he found it to be nothing more than cold air. "Yeah, you're okay," Fred said, chuckling softly as he ran his hand over the hole of the missing wolf-ear.
George shook his head violently, sat down on his hind legs, then raised one to scratch furiously before snorting and shaking his head some more. Once done with this, his nose picked up the smell of human company and bolted up the stairs, putting his front legs on the wood before giving several loud barks.
"It's okay, he's safe," Fred called and the door opened, showing Charlie and Bill ready with their wands just to be completely on the safe side. George gave another loud bark, then threw himself at Charlie, causing them both to topple over on the floor.
"Wow," was all Nox could say as she watched the beast alternatively sniffing and licking Charlie, the thick, wagging tail a hazard for anyone that came too close. Charlie took it all with a grin as he was bathed in sticky saliva and had the snout of the large, grey-brown animal repeatedly shoved into his armpits.
"Enough now," Charlie gasped out between laughter at length and George quickly obliged, making Nox his next victim. Seeing what way he was heading, she quickly backed up to the wall, not being thrilled by the idea of being tackled by a werewolf weighing between a hundred and fifty and two hundred pounds. George, however, quickly solved this problem by shoving his snout between her legs, drawing a deep breath of the exciting smell while Nox screamed "Hey, hey, hey!" Charlie came to the rescue, taking a good hold of George by the scruff of his neck and pulling him away.
Regaining his common sense and pushing the wolf's need to inspect any thrilling smell his brain was bombarded with by his excellent nose away, George made the canine equal to an apology and dropped his head to the floor, laying one paw over his snout and whining while he kept his eyes on Nox's.
"Don't ever do that again," she told him, but seemed to have forgiven him, for now.
"Pfft, you liked it," Fred put in, grinning at her. She wisely chose to ignore him.
"What's this?" Charlie had squatted down beside George and now ran his fingers over the place where an ear should have been, instead there was a dark hole, surrounded by hairless, red skin. "Itches, does it?" Placing his palm to the scarred wound Charlie began massaging it, causing George to sit up, panting in delight as his tail and hind leg drummed to the floor.
"Maybe we should get outside before the whole house smells like dog," Bill put in with a smile in George's direction. "Mum would just be thrilled to find someone marking the couch as their territory." The werewolf reacted at once and ran through the room and barked several times when he found the closed door. Fred shook his head, amused of how much life it suddenly was in his twin, before following.
"Relax, we have the whole night," Charlie muttered as he gathered up the glasses and bottle before joining the others in the yard. George had put his front paws on Bill's shoulders and easily towered his brother as he found the smells of soap, aftershave, a hint of healthy sweat, hormones and Fleur's perfume. After getting a nose-full of the last from the hollow of Bill's throat, George dropped down to the ground again and gave the older the best accusing look he could with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
"I'm married, I have the right to," Bill answered at once, crossing his arms over his chest. George snorted. "None of your business, anyway." George turned on his heel, making sure his thick tail hit his brother in the knee.
"Everything is our business," Fred said, half-leaning, half-sitting on George's back. "And a perfect smell-detector might not be the worst –" His sentence was cut short when George bolted towards Nox and the glass of whisky she had just been offered by Charlie.
"Hey, down boy, down!" Holding the glass as high as she managed while trying to push the beast off with the other hand, Nox felt all other than in control of the situation and was thankful when Charlie gave a sharp whistle and offered to pour the whisky straight down George's throat. After a few swallows the werewolf found himself done with that game and took what mostly resembled a victory lap around them and finished with a short chase after his own tail.
"He's had enough now, he's enough of a handful as it is," Bill commented while George busied himself with some intimate hygiene.
"Well, the night is still young," Charlie answered with a shrug and took a sip of his glass.
"The last time you said that I ended up holding your head over the toilet while you puked your guts out," Bill said dryly, cocking a brow. Before Charlie could defend himself George shot off towards the forest, barking madly. The others followed, finding him nose-deep in a hole in the ground, still barking.
"You silly thing, it was just a gnome," Charlie said, sitting down and wrenching the large, hairy head out of the dirt and buried his hand in the thick ruff of the neck. "Oh, you like that, do you?" It didn't take long before the scratching turned into a full wrestling match and all that was visible was grey fur, muscle-bulging freckled skin and the odd view of denim.
"Oy, stop that now!" Bill shouted to get through George's growls, Fred's cheering, and Charlie's laughter and yelps. "It's all fun and games 'til sometimes gets hurt –"
"Then it's hilarious," Fred supplied.
"No, it's not," Bill answered, scowling. "George might not be raving now, but if he accidentally bites you we'll be going through the exact same procedure with you in a month." His blue eyes bore into Charlie's green ones and the latter got slowly to his feet, obviously looking ashamed of himself.
"It was just a bit of fun and games, Bill, nothing happened and I know..." he said quietly.
"Yes, you know," Bill answered and turned away. "But George obviously don't, he's showing as much responsibility as... as Fred."
"Hey, is that an insult?" the ghost said, swelling slightly with anger.
"Yes," Nox confirmed dryly from beside him, smiling slightly.
"The point is, I think it's time for a little man-to-man talk," Bill continued, fixing his eyes with George's. "Well, almost-werewolf to werewolf, then." The corner of his mouth twitched and he beckoned the beast to his side before they sat off between the trees.
"Okay, what's up with him?" Fred asked, still looking where they had disappeared.
"A lot, and I'm staying out of it all," Charlie answered, sitting down with his back against a tree and filled his glass again.
"Nox, follow them," Fred said absently and made his way up on a branch in the nearest tree.
"What, you think you can just order me around like that?" she answered, fixing her fists on her hips.
"Well, you're a detective and small enough to pass as a squirrel or something if you make a noise," he said and fitted his hands behind his head. "Or an elk, with those feet."
"Except there aren't any elks in these woods," Charlie put in. "Beside, George would smell her as soon as she came within a hundred meters of them."
"You're right," Fred said and sighed. "Make sure to have the wind towards you, Noxy. Maybe even take a shower first?" Not having any good replies, Nox turned her back on him and wished she at least knew of a place to go to get away from the ghost.
"Bill's not telling him anything interesting, if that's what you're worried about," Charlie said, having found a toothpick in his pocket and put it to good use. "Prob'ly things like... boring werewolf-things, at least."
"Like how to lick his balls?" Fred said and gave dry laughter.
"One of the few things I think Bill's anatomy prevents him from doing, although he might ask Fleur – does it feel like it's gonna rain to anyone else?" Charlie's sudden stop in what he was about to say and his slight blush was more than enough to tell Nox he had momentarily forgot she was there.
"No, not really. Might get more cloudy, though," she said, sitting down beside him to get the bottle resting between his feet.
"Would be nice if it stayed clear," Charlie said absently, rolling the content of his glass around. "I hate stumbling through the forest when it's pitch-black. Once I managed to fall down a small cliff and land in a nest of prickly bushes. Now, I'm not a shy guy, but having another man pick thorns out of my bare butt while a dozen other stood around watching, laughing their heads off, isn't an experience I want to repeat."
"Oh, don't worry," Fred told him in a mock-sweet voice, "if you run into some cactuses here I'm sure Mum'll be more than willing to de-torn you, and it'll just be me and George laughing."
"What a comfort," Charlie shot back.
"I've had a similar thing happen to me," Nox said, smiling at the memory. "I ran through some rose bushes when I was younger and the only one home was my father's secretary. Still, he handled the whole thing very soberly and didn't seem affected the least to have a half-naked twelve-year-old on his lap."
"Oh, do tell more!" Fred had floated down to sit cross-legged in front of her, leaning forward and looked very much like a cat waiting for a can of tuna to be opened.
"No," she answered flatly.
"Come on, a bit more," Fred pleaded. "Give us some of the dirty details, how he stroke his hand over your non-existing tits, or something."
"God, you're disgusting!" She crossed his arms and gave him a nasty look. "I know it's nothing but air between your ears, but that you could ever come up with something that disturbing..." She shuddered.
"She's right, that was a low blow even from you," Charlie agreed, trying not to break into a grin from the cat-and-dog behaviour they were showing.
"Fine," Fred sighed. "Is it my turn to tell a pain-in-the-butt story, then? All I got is when me and Georgie was experimenting with the Fever Fudges back in our school days. You see, we got these giant boils, all filled with stinking green gouge, which meant Quidditch practise wasn't a reason to celebrate any more. Sometimes they'd burst with audible pops and spray our underwear with pus. George still got pock-marks." A quiver went through his shoulders, but his eyes shone, egging Nox on.
"If I take what I actually understood of that and twist it in the way you usually do, you're saying I would benefit from seeing George naked?" she said, cocking her head to one side with the same light in her eyes as him.
"And you accuse me of having a dirty imagination!" The ghost put the back of his hand to his forehead with a deep sigh before all three of them burst out laughing.