Disclaimer: I do not own HP.
To Ron's dismay, he found that trailing Fred was just as futile as he had expected. All morning he had been trying to follow him without being noticed, but was unsuccessful. Fred wasn't stupid. Ron suspected that Fred knew he was following him. To be quite honest, Ron made a poor spy. Wherever Fred went, Ron followed much too quickly. Although Ron tried to hum a bit or seem like he was going somewhere else, Fred was not fooled and gave him funny looks. He began to lead Ron in circles, walking through the kitchen, the hallway, and then turning back at Mrs. Black's portrait. He had even made a few cracks at Ron as he tailed him.
"What is it ickle Ronikins? Are you scared to be in the grim old house all alone?"
Ron had flushed and muttered that he was just wandering.
"Wandering, eh? And always in circles around Mrs. Black's portrait? What is it Ronikins, do you have a little crush on Sirius's mum?"
"That's grotesque!" Ron shouted.
"Slow down Ronikins, your brain isn't developed enough to use such big words."
Severely annoyed, Ron decided to ditch tailing Fred. Ron doubted that Fred was going to talk or do anything secretive while he knew he was being followed. The whole thing had not only been a waste of time, but may have blown the entire mission.
Fuming, Ron trudged off to find Hermione and ask her for advice. However, no matter where Ron looked he could not find her. She wasn't in her room, the kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter. She wasn't even tailing Fletcher as she was supposed to, as Ron had seen him alone counting money in Sirius's study. Even more aggravated, Ron sought out Ginny. He wondered if she had gotten anywhere. Ginny was apparently a good eavesdropper, maybe he could get some tips from her.
Ron found Ginny in an upstairs bedroom, bent over a vent. She was holding something to her ear very gingerly, completely quiet all the while.
"Ginny, what are you…"
"Shhhhh!" She hissed.
Ron approached his sister and knelt down beside her. He could now see that the thing close to her ear was the listening part of an expendable ear.
"Why didn't I think of that." He mumbled.
"Shhh! Just listen!" Ginny whispered.
Ron brought his ear close to the device and listened.
He could hear Fred and George discussing something, their voices very low.
"I think Ron's on to us George. He's been following me all day."
"Hermione must suspect something. Ron never would have figured it out."
"Good point. Anyway, do you have the money?"
They heard coins jingle, and a frustrated scoff.
"To think, we have to spent all those galleons on that damn..."
"Well, its not like we had to work for them anyway. These came from Harry."
"Yeah, what a good sport he is."
Ron and Ginny gasped. Harry had given them money?
"No, Harry couldn't possibly be part of this…" Ron whispered.
"Sshhh!" Ginny hissed.
"Anyway, they still don't know what really is going on. After today, it will be too late for them to do anything."
"We can only hope, if Fletcher does what we asked. I still don't trust him."
"Nor do I, but we're still in deep trouble from that cake prank. There is no way we can leave to get it."
"Yeah, but I just hope he doesn't jip us, the git."
At that moment, the door creaked open and they heard Fletcher stagger into the room.
"Boys." Said Fletcher.
"Dungus." The twins said together.
"Mundungus." Fletcher said, pronouncing his name.
"We know." The twins replied.
There was a loud scoff. "You have the money?'"
"Yes." Replied Fred. "70 galleons."
"Good, good. That'll do. And what about me?"
"What about you?" George replied nastily.
"I require some sort of payment for my troubles."
"You said nothing about being paid, you dirty scoundrel!" Fred and George shouted.
"I'm the one risking my neck to get this for you two. It is an illegal substance, and I'm not risking a stint in Azkaban for no less than 300 galleons."
"300? You're mad!" Shouted George.
"300 or I do nothing for yah."
There was an angry mumbling sound, and then more jingling.
"That's a good boy. Well, I'll be off then. See yah later."
"And we want our change back, you dungbag!" The twins called.
Fletcher's footsteps faded away, as did Fred and George's.
Ron and Ginny sat up and stared at each other, wide eyed.
"What the in bloody hell are they doing buying illegal substances? What is this?" Ron said, completely baffled.
Ginny blinked, pale in the face. "I didn't expect anything like this…they always talked about buying something that was hard to get…but risking jail time?"
She paused. "And poor Hermione, tailing Fletcher! Who knows where she'll end up following him, I hope she just abandons…"
"WHAT!?" Ron yelped.
"She's tailing Fletcher, Ron. Just as Harry said to do."
"But I haven't seen her all day!"
"She's been under the cloak, Ron."
"But.. but.. she's in trouble now! We've got to make her stay! I won't have her getting in trouble!"
Ginny laughed. "How long?"
"How long what?"
"How long have you liked her?" Ginny asked.
Ron blushed. "I don't… it's not like…oh shut up Ginny!"
Ron got back up on his feet. "I'm going to help Hermione before she gets arrested or something."
Ginny stood up too, smirking. The siblings ran down stairs, hoping to catch Hermione before it was too late.
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Hermione couldn't believe what she was about to do. After hearing a very shocking conversation between the twins and Fletcher, she knew the best thing she could do was go get help. The smart thing to do would be to tell Molly and Arthur that their children were putting themselves in a bad situation. This way, she could stay away from the real trouble and let them deal with it.
But what about Harry? Hermione knew that Harry would never give Fred and George money to do something outright wrong. Had they come to Harry asking for money for their joke shop, which in all actuality, was for some contraband? And was this substance for their joke shop? Were the twins dumb enough to make some prank item from something illegal? And what in the world was this substance?
There was only one sure-fire way to find out; tail Fletcher and discover what exactly he was getting them. It was risky. If she were caught she might be implemented in the scheme as well, and only Merlin knew where she would end up. However, Hermione knew that this was important…and she was curious, in all honesty. Harry was relying on her, and she did not want to let him down.
So, to her dismay, Hermione decided to take the risk. She followed Fletcher to the front door of Grimmauld Place. He stepped out onto the front step, but did not move from here. With his portly frame taking up much of the step, Hermione had to remain on the threshold. Fletcher looked around, checked a pocket in his cloak, and then took out his wand. Hermione guessed what he was about to do, and just in time. She grasped the back of his cloak as he disapparated. Hermione never would have guessed how uncomfortable disapparition was. It felt like she was being crushed, and she gasped for breath.
In the blink of an eye, she realized that her feet had touched the ground. She was in Diagon Alley, with Fletcher standing on her right. He was looking around anxiously. He appeared to have felt her pull on his cloak. After a few moments, he shrugged and waddled off through the alley. After walking for a short while, Fletcher reached a dark and dodgey alley off of Diagon Alley. He looked around once more, and then hurried down it.
Hermione read the sign above the alley; Knockturn Alley. 'Oh no…not this place.' She thought to herself. Knockturn Alley was a creepy street full of shops dedicated to the dark arts. If the substance Fred and George wanted could be found here, Hermione could easily understand how bad it must be.
Hermione sighed, truly wanting to turn back. But she had come this far, and still had no way of getting back to Grimmauld on her own. She once more thought of Harry and the Order. Now burning with determination, Hermione stepped into the alley way and started walking. She had lost sight of Fletcher and was not sure where to go. Knockturn Alley was extremely grim. The storefronts were old and not well kept. Paint peeled from the signs and the glass had an eerie yellow tint. The store windows displayed a variety of wicked looking objects, such as shrunken heads, chains, morbid books, and objects that most likely carried deadly curses.
The people of Knockturn were also very shady. A young witch with long, chestnut brown hair stood by a wall, trying to sell what looked like jars of elf ears. She could not be more than 20 years old, but had flecks of white hair. Her face sent shivers down Hermione's spine. Her features were not of a normal human being. There was something demented about her, and Hermione did not want to find out what.
Hermione continued on, trying to get a glimpse of Fletcher without entering any creepy shops. As she continued, she could swear that the people became more and more frightening. She passed by a burly man carrying a box labeled 'FRAGILE'. He set it down and opened it, grinning maliciously at the contents. Hermione did not see what was inside the box, but she could of sworn she felt a sudden coldness only caused by dementors…
A group of old women stood closely talking in whispers outside a dirty looking café.
"And that's how I was widowed for the fourteenth time…" Said a horrible, old woman.
Hermione did not stand around to hear more, but just quickened her pace.
A little way ahead was a mean looking wizard in all black robes. He had a few deep scars across his face. Hermione recognized that the scars were much like Remus's scars. Perhaps this man too, was a werewolf. The man paused by an overflowing garbage can, took a vile out of his jacket, and drained it. He then tossed the empty glass vile onto the heap of trash. Then, he was off. Curiously but cautiously, Hermione levitated the vile with her wand. A small sticker read "WOLFSBANE". There was no store name or brand on the vile, however. There was a good chance that the man had bought it off some street seller. It would be much easier to keep their condition a secret if they bought their medicine off the street, rather than have to admit to being a werewolf in a respectable store in order to get their medicine.
Hermione let the vile fall back onto the heap and walked down the alley a little more. To her relief, she saw Fletcher speaking with a man in a long black trench coat. She quietly approached and listened in.
"Good to hear business has been good, Hawthorne. I hear your potions are selling big."
Hawthorne gave him a nasty smile, revealing a mouth of white and pointed teeth.
"The wolfsbane has taken off tremendously. Amortentia is selling pretty good as well."
"Aha, that's the old partner I know. And if you ever wanted to get back into business together…"
"I haven't got time for a petty thief like you, Mundungus. While you're making 10 galleons off stolen broomsticks I'm making hundreds off of neatly crafted potions and poisons. I have skill, Dung. You've got nothing but luck up your sleeves."
Mundungus was clearly offended, but played it off.
"It was only an offer. Anyway, I have to pick two things up from you today. First, I'd like to buy that Erumpent horn you showed me. I'll be needing it to make a distraction while I move a couple of cauldrons. They're hard to move without being heard, I daresay, so I'll need some kind of explosion or what not."
"The Erumpent horn eh? Well you're out of luck with that one. I sold it to some loon a couple of days ago. Thought it belonged to a crumple horned snor-whatever, so I went along with it and told em' what he wanted to hear. He paid fairly well for it, too."
Mundungus looked disheartened. "Pity, I guess I'll just have to store them at me friend's place."
Hermione knew for a fact that he meant Grimmauld Place. Really, Mundungus having friends? Unlikely.
"Anyway, I need to get something real hard to find, and I think you're the guy who'd have it." Fletcher began.
Hawthorne waited, but Fletcher leaned in and whispered into his ear.
Hawthorne's eyes widened at the mention of the substance's name.
'Darn it! I didn't hear.' Hermione thought.
Startled, Hawthorne spoke. "That's some illicit stuff, mind you. It's pretty expensive to make, and to sell. What do you want with it?"
"It's for a friend." Mundungus replied. "So, have you got any?"
Hawthorne nodded slowly. "Just a little. It's yours, for 80 galleons."
"How about I give yah 40 galleons, and promise not to rat yah out."
Hawthorne's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare."
"Try me." Fletcher said. "You know, turning someone in fer a business like yours can fetch a pretty good reward. Last guy they caught selling stuff like you got 10 years of Azkaban, and the rat got a fat bag of 1000 galleons."
Hawthorne paled slightly, but mumbled "deal."
Fletcher handed Hawthorne the money in exchange for a small brown bag.
Fletcher pocketed the bag and walked off. Hermione followed him closely.
"Damn fool. Will believe anything I tell em." He muttered to himself.
After walking a few paces, Mundungus took out his wand to apparate. Hermione gripped part of his cloak once more, and traveled with him back to Grimmauld Place.
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Fred and George had finally gotten their hands on it. The small brown bag Fletcher had handed them was crucial to their 'prank' being successful. Although it was very illegal, at the same time it was very harmless. They were lucky, the twins. They had avoided getting caught and even saved a few galleons. Leave it to old Dung to be a good negotiator. Still, he was a dirty rotten crook. He came back and told them that they had no change. This was obviously a lie, since the boys could hear a heavy jingling in his pocket. Good thing George had paid attention that one time in Transfiguration class to learn a spell which turned coins into bumble bees.
After muttering the incantation, a hoard of buzzing bees appeared in Fletcher's pocket. He let out a high scream, and shook the angry bees out of his trousers, getting stung all the while. The bees flew chaotically around the room until George removed the spell. The bees turned back into coins, which fell to the floor like golden rain.
Realizing he had been outsmarted, Mundungus began sputtering some nonsense about forgetting the change.
"I had my mind focused on stealth, sorry boys. Old Dung's memory fails him sometimes."
"Yeah, especially when it comes to paying people back what belongs to them." Said Fred.
Fletcher shrugged off Fred's comment and went back on his way, no doubt conducting more illegal activities. The twins knew he would probably stop at Gringott's bank to deposit his 300 galleons, and they wished they could see his face when he did so. Little did Fletcher know that those 'galleons' were really leprechaun gold. By the time he reached the bank, they would be gone! Serves him right, the twins thought. Everyone, including Fletcher, doubted the twins. They might not have many O.W.L.S. or perfect grades, but when they put their heads together they could outsmart almost anyone. In a few months time they would show everyone. They would open their joke shop and rake in tons of money. For once, goody Fred and George would be taken seriously. Both were natural born inventors and entrepreneurs, and this would pay off in the long run.
But for the time being, they had a small amount of work to do. They took the brown bag back up to their room. It was time to put their plan into action.