Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I know, I know. It's incredibly disappointing.
AN: Firstly, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews! You guys rock! Secondly, to address a concern brought up in a review about gay marriage being counterproductive basically to the Ministry's goal of re-population. I completely get where you're coming from. However it's the way that the Ministry goes about matching people that allows gay couples to be matched. I wanted to explain this in the story, but in my mind Hermione is the one to research it and since we don't have a lot of Hermione interaction happening I'm not sure it will be. So just in case I don't fit it in, here is how the matching happens.
We all know that there is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is always locked, yes? That is the Love Chamber. Well, in my small sliver of the Harry Potter universe they used the knowledge gleaned from the Love Chamber to create a spell that could match people to their soul mates using only their names and magical signatures left in the Book of Registered Witches and Wizards (mentioned in chapter 1). This of course would match you to your soul mate regardless of race, gender, blood status, etc.
Now the ministry could just take all the people matched with their same sex and mix them up to fit their reproduction quotas, but what I haven't revealed (and again, don't know if I'll be able to) is that despite what Cora thinks of her, Wanda Denison (the Minister [ministress?] of Magic) is really an old softie who, along with repopulating the Wizarding World, just wanted to give everyone some of the happiness they deserve after surviving the war. Of course they can't just use the spell all the time to match people up, because that would mess with free will and more than likely have drastic long term side effects, but it was deemed a dire enough situation to warrant the use of the spell on this specific occasion.
Okay, I think that's enough of my babbling. I hope that didn't get too confusing... If you still have questions PM me or review!
.
Chapter 12: Getting Along?
.
I'm standing impatiently in the center of Fred and George's humble sitting room while the pair of them slowly amble their way into the flat. Fred makes a show of slowly shutting the door behind him and then they turn towards me and smirk in unison. I bare my teeth and gesture to my throat.
'Fix it,' I mouth at them, knowing that as soon as I try and speak nothing but gibberish will escape my lips.
"Hmm? Sorry what was that Cor? We couldn't hear that," George says teasingly. I glare at him and without breaking eye contact draw my wand from my back pocket and begin impatiently tapping it against my palm, letting it throw off orange sparks to show my growing temper. Both twins eye my wand warily and suddenly become much more cooperative.
"Er- Really Cora, let's not be hasty," Fred tries to placate me nervously. I bare my teeth and snarl, the sparks flaring red for a moment.
"We can't do anything to fix it, but," George tells me quickly, elbowing Fred.
"It'll wear off in about 20 minutes or so," Fred adds. "Or at least it should."
I glare meanly at him, hopefully conveying that it had better wear off or he and his twin are dead. They gulp. Message received. I drop onto the couch and cross one leg over the other
and my arms over my chest and wait. No way am I going to leave until it's completely worn off with no lasting side effects.
George, seeing that the main danger has passed, plops down beside me and grins.
"So how did it work?" he asks excitedly. I glare half-heartedly at him for a minute and then sigh in defeat and motion for a pen and paper. I just can't stay mad at George. And besides, this isn't the first time he's pranked me. It's the first time Fred has pranked me, but I've already fallen victim to Gabbing Gum, Belching Soda, and a few trick wands via George.
Those ones I just laughed off, but for some reason it feels different being pranked by Fred. With George I know it's just all in the name of fun, so I'm fine with it. But with Fred… I don't know what to think. I still get the vibe that he doesn't like me much and that affects how I feel about him pranking me I guess. Pranks to have a laugh with someone I can handle, pranks to laugh at someone, not so much.
"Say something," George demands as he shoves the requested writing utensils into my lap. I frown at the parchment, quill, and ink bottle. Seriously, wizards could really learn a thing or two about convenience from muggles. I open my mouth to tell him so.
"Soft words butter no parsnips, but they won't harden the heart of the cabbage either," comes out instead. George and Fred throw back their heads and roar with laughter. I try to scowl at them, but my amused grin is determined to make an appearance.
"It's no use boiling your cabbage twice," I continue much to the twins' delight. "What butter and whiskey will not cure, there is no cure for. Men are like bagpipes, no sound comes from them till they're full."
Even I can't stifle my chuckle at the ridiculous things coming out of my mouth.
'Where did you get these?' I scribble on the parchment and then hand it to George. He's still chuckling to himself as he reads it.
"They're old Irish proverbs," he explains, "We stumbled across them while we were stuck in our Aunt Muriel's place during the war. She had this whole book of them in her attic."
"By the looks of the book it used to belong to either Fabian or Gideon," Fred says.
"Our uncles," George adds.
"We thought they were hilarious, and that they should most definitely-,"
"Get used in some joke product or another, but-,"
"We weren't sure how to go about it," Fred and George explain, one jumping in and finishing out the other's sentences. I've noticed they do this a lot when they get really excited over something; usually something to do with their shop. I just sit back and grin between the two when they do.
"In the end, we were able to alter Veritaserum-,"
"And add a charm to it-,"
"To get this!"
That is pretty impressive. As far as I know Veritaserum is a very finicky potion and doesn't like being toyed with. They must be either very talented, or very lucky that they didn't poison themselves… Or me. A concerned look must pass over my face because George jumps in hastily to reassure me.
"Don't worry! Fred and I always test our products on ourselves before we let anyone else try them," he explains. This news leaves me torn between concern that they are endangering themselves, and amusement at George's choice of words. To "let" people try their products implies that people do so voluntarily. If my experience is anything to go by (and I'm willing to bet that it is) then no one ever actually gets the chance to offer to be a test subject. You get chosen.
"But anyway," George continues, ignoring the concerned stare I'm leveling at him. "How are you feeling? Any side effects? I noticed you got a bit, er, angrier over this one than you did the others. Is that from the tonic do you think?" I sigh through my nose and snatch back my scrap of parchment to note down everything I can think of.
'Anger not side effect. Slightly disorienting as potion takes effect, but nothing uncomfortable other than not being able to control your own tongue. I'm assuming Fred spiked my drink earlier with said 'tonic'? No flavor change or noticeable scent, but slight tingling on tongue. Delaying effect a nice touch. Gives administrator a chance to escape line of fire. An idea though could be to add an Irish accent if possible? Would be funny.'
As I write the bit about escaping the line of fire I glare at Fred. I don't know when he spiked my drink, but it had to have been sometime while we were at the Leaky Cauldron for our lunch date (Mrs. Weasley insisted. It was incredibly awkward) and nothing strange happened until about a quarter hour after I returned home to prepare to meet the Parkees.
George takes my notes and retreats with Fred to the other side of the room where they put their heads together and read my comments, mumbling to each other and pointing out different things and making suggestions. I hear George exclaim over the brilliance of adding an accent and roll my eyes at their behavior. They act like mad scientists, but I can't help but to think that it's kind of endearing. Just a little bit. For George.
"Soo," George says slowly, a teasing grin taking over his familiar features as he and Fred end their little conference, "If the anger wasn't a side effect, then what was that about? Hmm?"
I glare at him and say nothing. He smirks at me and looks between me and Fred, obviously already knowing what it was about.
"Well if you don't have a problem with me pranking you, then it must be that you have a problem with Fred pranking you," George says after a pause. "Now why would that be?"
Again I stay close lipped. Not that trying to answer would work anyway unless the tonic wore off in the last few minutes.
"Could it be that you think Fred might have different intentions than me with our pranks?" George asks, hitting the nail on the head. I don't know how he can read me so well, but he can. I glare at him for outing my secrets. Sharing feelings and stuff isn't all that easy for me. Fred is obviously not on the same page as his twin and I judging from the confused looks he's shooting at George.
"Go ahead and explain yourself," George says, "It should have worn off by now."
I'm irritated enough that it gives me courage to answer honestly, although I do avoid looking at Fred.
"Of course it's different," I say, and am relieved to hear the words I intended to say come out. "It's not exactly a secret that Fred doesn't like me." I see Fred whip his head around to turn and stare at me from the corner of my eye, but I continue to look away towards George.
"I like you," Fred blurts out. I snap my head up in surprise and am slightly relieved to see that he looks every bit as uncomfortable as I feel.
"You do?" I ask before I can stop myself. Fred shrugs awkwardly.
"Well yeah. You're kinda hard not to like," he mumbles looking over the top of my head. I stare incredulously at him.
"Then why have you been such an arse lately?" I demand awkwardness momentarily pushed aside for the irritation surfacing as I think about the past week and how bloody difficult Fred has been every step of the way. He finally looks me in the eyes appearing to be disbelieving of the conversation we're having as well.
"Because you stopped arguing with me! Out of the blue! No explanation! I was just trying to get you to act normal again," he says heatedly. I gape open mouthed at him for a moment and then my eyes flick towards George, who's obviously struggling to hold in his laughter. Then suddenly everything clicks into place. Jump to my feet.
"You!" I shout while pointing an accusing finger in George's direction. "You did this on purpose! I spent half of my savings on rubber ducky printed robes because of you! Non-refundable!" This seems to be the last straw for George. He succumbs to his maniacal laughter and has to sit down in the armchair across from me to avoid falling to the floor. Fred and I are both staring open mouthed in shock and betrayal which only seems to tickle George even more. Every time he catches sight of one of our faces he bursts into renewed giggles. He's giggling. I swear it. I don't even giggle. Usually.
"He told me to give you a chance and stop arguing with you even if you provoked me!" I explain animatedly to Fred.
"He told me to keep provoking you until I got a reaction!" Fred responds. As a unit we turn to stare at George who is laughing even louder now with tears running down his cheeks.
"You manipulative prat!" I exclaim. Seriously, I just can't believe the friends I choose to spend my time and energy on.
"You know what this means right Georgie?" Fred suddenly asks, a menacing grin spreading across his face as he gets over the surprise of it all. I begin to grin as well, having an inkling of where he is going.
"Now that we're privy to the game that's being played it'll be two against one," he says, gesturing between he and I first and then to George alone. George grins up at him, not seeming to be intimidated in the least as he wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes.
"You've got to sleep sometime George," I add with a wicked grin of my own. Fred and I smirk at each other, both already plotting the mischief we can get up to in the name of revenge.
George still just grins at us, not looking concerned at all. In fact he looks rather pleased. But the next topic of conversation drives that observation clean from my mind.
"Well in light of your new partnership maybe it's time we made the offer we discusse-," George doesn't get to finish before Fred cuts him off.
"I hardly think now's a good time to-,"
"Oh but brother dear I disagr-,"
"No. We just finally-,"
"Exactly! Now that you've-,"
"She'll never-,"
"We won't know till we try," George finishes, leaving Fred looking stumped, but still completely unconvinced. Needless to say I am woefully lost.
"Fine!" Fred finally exclaims, throwing his hands up. "But just know this was not my idea," he says to me.
"What on Earth are you two on about?" I more demand than ask. George grins wolfishly and Fred gives him a look before collapsing onto the couch that I vacated earlier with a sour look on his face and his arms crossed. I raise my eyebrows at him and then turn back to George and wait impatiently for an explanation.
"You see Fred and I-,"
Fred clears his throat loudly and George rolls his eyes but heeds him none the less.
"Pardon me. I had the thought that it would be a good idea if you were to move in here with Fred and me," George says casually. My jaw drops and I find myself dropping onto the cushion beside Fred.
"What?"
"He's mental isn't he," Fred mutters to me. As George steamrolls on, I can't help but agree.
"You'll have your own room of course. We have a third that we haven't so much as looked in in ages. Whatever else you need we can take care of. Unfortunately we'll all have to share the bathroom seeing as there's only the one, but we'll make it work. I mean you'll have to share with Fred at least for the rest of your lives anyway so might as well get used to it now," he chuckles to himself. I have to stop him there.
"What in the world makes you think I'd want to move in with the two of you?" I demand. George grins at me, not taking any offense or even seeming surprised by the question.
"Well you'll be marrying Freddie boy here in a few weeks and everyone always says the only way to really get to know someone is to live with them," he says matter-of-factly. "So why not? You'll have to live together eventually anyway and this way you'll learn faster and know each other better than you otherwise would by your wedding day."
It actually makes sense in an insane kind of way, but in no way does that mean that I'm okay with it.
"What if we fight more than ever?" I ask. George shrugs looking unconcerned.
"You're going to be bonded to each other for life. You'll have to figure out how to co-exist, if not get along at some point," he says. Again I can see his logic and it bugs me.
"What about Angelina? Is she moving in too? There's no way we'll all fit," I point out. George winces a bit.
"Angie's parents are pretty… Traditional. There's not a chance we'll be living together before we're officially married," he explains.
"Well my parents are also very traditional," I latch onto the excuse like a lifeline. "There's no way they'll agree to this. Especially my mum."
Unfortunately my feeling of victory is short-lived. It withers in the face of George's triumphant smirk and then dies completely with his next words.
"They've already agreed," he says smugly.
"What?!" Fred and I both shout, pitching forward in our seats. George smiles widely at us showing his teeth.
"Yes, they both agreed that it was a sound idea. I talked to them today while the two of you were at lunch," he says looking particularly pleased with himself.
"What did you do to them?" I accuse at the same time Fred says, "You were the reason we had to go on that lunch date!"
Fred's words completely distract me from my own question.
"That was you?!" I yelp.
"You planted that idea in mum's head didn't you!" Fred reproaches. George grins and shrugs.
"Well it really wasn't hard," he says. I glare at him, thinking that he should have been put in Slytherin rather than Gryffindor with all the plotting and manipulating that he's been doing behind everyone's backs.
"So I sat through one of the most awkward meals of my life for your little scheme?" I ask semi-hysterically.
"Hey it wasn't that awkward!" Fred protests. I give him a look.
"Really? I don't know what table you were sitting at, but the one I was at was drowning in awkward juice," I say. "I kept getting sympathetic looks from the sixteen year old sitting at the table behind you eating alone."
"Oh alright it was horribly awkward," Fred concedes as he no doubt relives parts of the experience; The unending silence, the horrendously long wait for the food to come, and then us both wolfing down our meals at lightning speed so that we could finally leave. I don't even remember what I ate. Just kidding. It was fish and chips. I burned my mouth raw because it was so hot, but in my desperation to leave I didn't care. Much. Then I had to chug down my spiked pumpkin juice to try and soothe my wounds.
"All the more reason for the two of you to get to know each other better," George sing songs.
"What did you do to my parents?" I repeat my earlier question now that I've come to terms with George's further betrayal and cross my arms over my chest. George rolls his eyes.
"I just talked to them," he says. I raise my eyebrows disbelievingly and wait for him to elaborate. "Really," he says, "I told them everything I told the two of you, and yeah they were skeptical at first and I thought your dad was going to throw me out, but in the end they saw reason and agreed that it might be for the best. With the understanding of course, that if you decide you're too uncomfortable or something you can move right back out."
"Oh look!" I say sarcastically. "I'm uncomfortable. I'd like to move out. Oh wow, see that? That was easy! We sure did avoid a lot of unnecessary tension!" George gives me an exasperated look.
"Oh c'mon Cor. Take this seriously. Think about it," George urges me. I shake my head and press my lips together in agitation. This is just insane.
"I still don't understand how my parents agreed," I say after a moment. "They're both Christians and very much into the belief of abstinence until you're married. I can't see them willing let me live with two guys that I'm not related or already married to."
I'm surprised to see the tips of George's ears redden ever so slightly and him rub the back of his neck uncomfortably.
"Well," he says, "They didn't have a problem with Fred really since you two can hardly even get along. They knew you wouldn't do anything with him and that if he tried anything with you that you'd hex him into next week and come straight home."
Buuuut… I think to myself as I await further explanation. And then it hits me all at once. I feel the blood drain from my face in horror and then an instant later it all comes back as I flush bright red in mortification.
"Oh God they didn't…" I trail off as George does an uncomfortable half nod half shrug thing.
"They thought you and me…" I trail off again. Fred finally catches on to what we're talking about and jumps up in his seat.
"What?" he yelps.
"Gross!" I say probably a bit louder than necessary. "I mean no offense or anything, but eww. That's like Jon or Seb-," I cut off my own sentence with a shudder. "Yuck." George nods along in agreement.
"Yeah I was pretty horrified when they brought it up. But don't worry, I was quick to reassure them that there was only brotherly affection there. Absolutely no attraction whatsoever," he says vehemently.
"Hey!" I exclaim. "I can be attractive!" George gives me a look.
"You called me gross," he points out.
"I called sexual interaction with you gross actually," I correct him. He rolls his eyes.
"And I said-,"
"Can we just change the subject please," Fred interrupts weakly looking perturbed. George and I immediately stop.
"Right," George says as we mentally get ourselves back on track. "So yeah that convinced them more than anything I think that it would be okay. Oh yeah and I promised that I'd keep an eye on the two of you and if anything of that nature appears to be cooking up I'm to let them know."
I groan.
"Oh great so I'm going to have a babysitter," I complain as I slouch back into my seat. George beams at me.
"So you're moving in then?" he asks excitedly.
"I didn't say that!" I hurriedly correct him, shooting back into an upright position. George shakes his head and continues to grin.
"Oh no future sister darling. You said 'I'm going to have a babysitter'," he says smugly. "That means that you're going to be moving in."
"That is not what I said," I argue. George chuckles.
"Say what you want, but we all know that I've won. And since your parents have already agreed as well, I'll be expecting you packed up and ready to begin your new life with us tomorrow afternoon. That should be plenty of time," he says self-assuredly. I scowl at him.
"Last I checked I only had to marry one Weasley twin," I say argumentatively, because I know I'm on the losing end of the battle. George smirks.
"Ah but you see, we're a package deal we are. You get one, you get both, right Freddie?"
Fred says nothing, instead looking a bit shell-shocked over the developments of the day. George doesn't seem to mind though. In fact he looks downright giddy over driving his twin to speechlessness and I have to admit that it is quite the feat.
"Now if you two will excuse me I have a bedroom to prepare for our new flatmate," he says and then whisks off down the hall to the closed door at the end on the left humming to himself. I put my head in my hands.
"What did I ever do to deserve this?" I moan.
"You would have been better off if you'd stayed in France," Fred responds sympathetically while awkwardly patting my back a few times. I snort air out my nose.
"Truer words have yet to be spoken," I agree with a dramatic sigh and then lift my head and slowly pull myself to my feet.
"I suppose I should go pack?" I say, unable to keep myself from sounding utterly bewildered at the predicament that I've suddenly found myself in. Fred makes a sound of agreement.
"Right. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" he says, looking just as taken aback as I feel. I nod and head for the door. I stop with my hand on the knob and look back over my shoulder.
"You know your brother is absolutely bonkers, right?"
Fred nods vigorously and then we both grin because we know we wouldn't want him any other way.
.
AN: To my fellow Americans: Happy Thanksgiving! To everyone else: Happy almost Friday!
Anyway, my husband bought me a Chromebook (which I love) for my birthday last week. Chromebooks are mostly internet based if you don't know and have very little internal memory. Why is this relevant you ask? Well because that means that I am now converting my story from Microsoft Word to internet based Google Docs. So if you notice any formatting errors please let me know. It's just been things like staring a new paragraph in the middle of a sentence. I think I've fixed everything in this chapter, but if you notice anything please say something in a review or PM because I'd like to fix it. Thanks! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. ;) The next one is even better.