Clan Fools
Disclaimer: Not my characters (unless they are), no money being made, etc., etc.
updated November 2017
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Wednesday, June 13
The sound of steel striking steel provided a rather incongruous overlay to the staccato chug-chug-chug of the neighborhood hosepipes. Nobody within earshot of Harry's sword fighting lessons in Number Four's backyard paid any attention, however; they were either in the know, or had been gullible enough to accept a rather implausible explanation (namely, that he was training for the Olympic long sword event).
After a full week of lessons Harry felt as if he'd progressed from totally awful to merely dreadful. His muscles burned from the workouts; one hour each day spent hacking at a stout wooden post, followed by a second hour of sparring with the master swordsman. Those parts that didn't burn were battered and bruised from the hits he took from his instructor's dulled edge. Fortunately, the instructor seemed to think that things weren't all that bad.
"You know you're a natural at this," the swordsman said, as he picked Harry up off the ground for the tenth time that afternoon. "I'd almost say it's in your blood."
"Must have been a vampire hunter in a past life," Harry joked.
"Well you certainly have the sword for it," the instructor replied. Harry looked down at Godric's sword and cursed himself for slipping. Even with the leather straps that covered the sword's blade it was easy to tell that it was pure silver.
He tried to laugh it off. "Too bad, then, that the prospects for that line of work are slim."
The master swordsman gave him a careful look. "That's only because English vampires are so docile," he replied. "Now, down in the Baltics, that's a different story."
"Ha ha, that's a good one," Harry replied nervously, wondering just how much his instructor knew about vampire hunts.
The man nodded with a glint in his eye. "Yes, well, Mr. Potter, we'll take it as that." The instructor began unwrapping his sword so that it could be sheathed for transport.
"So," he asked Harry, "have you decided whether you'll be using the left or right hand yet?"
"Right, I hope," Harry replied, "but as I'm not completely certain I'll still need work with both." Sword hand was an issue he'd been grappling with all week. He'd been working on simple spells using his left hand, but hadn't progressed to the point where he felt he could imagine fighting with sword in one hand and wand in the other. Of course the ability to do wandless magic would solve the problem, but that was something currently beyond his reach.
With the day's lesson's over Harry went upstairs to take a shower. As he entered the Muggle room to store his sword he marveled at the latest phase of remodeling. Brian hadn't waited for the Dursley's departure; taking a cue from the control room across the street. They'd replaced the single desk and chair with smart looking modular workstations that took now took up one entire wall of the room. Four separate computer systems were set up, with large flat-screen monitors, scanners, and color laser printers. Their telly had been remounted on the wall above the workstations, end-to-end with two new identical screens, creating a seamless video display roughly two-feet high and nine-feet long.
Ron was presently standing behind Fred and George as they hunched over laptop computers on an L-shaped extension that jutted out from the wall.
"Oy, George, how many times do I have to tell you?" Ron asked, peering over his older brother's shoulder. "It's swish and click, not swish and flick."
"Worse than McGonagall, you are," George lamented. "Why couldn't the Muggles have invented a wand-shaped mouse?"
"Hey, be thankful for small favors. I could have forced you to use the trackball."
"Oy, Ron," Harry interrupted, "Not showing them sites your mum wouldn't approve of, are you?"
"Now, Harry, you know Hermione's installed NetNanny," Ron replied. "Of course, she only did that on the old desktop," he said with a smirk. "And now that I've got administrator-level authorization for the new network…"
"Thank Merlin you've taken to your Muggle studies, little brother," Fred said with a smile.
"So, really, what are your big brothers doing in the Internet?" Harry asked.
"Oh, a little market research, some new product development, a healthy bit of industrial espionage…" George said.
"Okay, I'll bite," Harry replied, "how is your net surfing helping the shop?"
"Simple, really. We're looking at how Muggles compensate for their non-magical limitations, then borrowing their ideas to make magical versions of their inventions."
"Got the idea from Ron," George admitted, as he held up one of the pairs of night vision goggles that Ron had bought on-line. "Any wizard worth their salt wouldn't need these spectacles to see in the dark…they'd simply cast the right charm. But same thing could be said of shield charms, and look at all the money we've made selling shield-charmed clothing to the Ministry of Magic."
"So you're going to make magical night vision goggles?" Harry asked.
"That's right...ones that'd work not only in areas where magical interference would trash the Muggle goggles, but ones strong enough to work inside areas affected by Peruvian Instant Blackness Powder."
"I thought you guys and Hermione developed the counterspell against that powder."
"Sure," Fred agreed, "but why banish the powder that blinds your enemies if you can still see?"
"Makes sense to me," Harry said. "So what else are you into?"
"Working with Hermione to look for raw materials. Stuff we need for our potions and powders."
"You expect to find potion ingredients on the Internet?" Harry asked. "How many wizards you think are e-Bay power users?"
"There's the beauty, Harry," George replied. "We've found Muggles selling ingredients that they don't even know have magical properties. One place ships out salamanders by the dozen, another sells valerian root and astragulus. There's a site that sells Chinese herbs that's going to be practically a one stop shop for us."
"What about delivery, though?" Harry asked. "It's not like FedEx ships to Diagon Alley."
"Ah, yeah, we thought about that," Fred replied. "Had a talk with Wally and Brian, and they suggested a work around."
"You're going to smuggle your supplies in?" Harry asked.
"No," said George, "although that's not a bad idea. Fred and I figured it'd be easier if we just had a Muggle shipping address. Now, don't worry," he said, noting Harry's arched eyebrows, "we aren't planning on setting up shop here at Number Four."
"But Number Seven, on the other hand," George said with a gleam in his eye.
"Prefer Number Twelve myself," said Fred. "although any house with a backyard free of gnomes works with me."
"You two are thinking of moving to Little Whinging?" Harry asked. "Aren't you a bit afraid the Death Eaters will recognize the new address?"
"It's not like they don't know where to find us in Diagon Alley, right?" Fred replied. "Besides, from what we've seen, there's a rather attractive combination of protections available here on this street."
"Not to mention the fact that it'd be an honor to live so close to the Great Clan Chief Potter."
"And his Consort, don't forget," said Fred with a wink and a nudge.
"Yeah, 'bout time on that one, Harry," said George. "Wish you'd have smartened up a few months ago, though…had the month of March all to myself."
"Oy, will you give the Clan Chief business a rest?" asked Ron. "It wasn't Harry's idea in the first place."
"Works for us, though," replied Fred. "Which reminds me…we want in."
"In where?" asked Harry.
"Into the Clan, of course," said George. "Oh, and if it's not too much trouble, we'd like to have Clan titles, just like little brother here."
"Can't you prats let me enjoy something on my own?" whined Ron.
The twins looked at each other, then dead-panned back to their brother.
"No."
"So what were you thinking?" asked Harry, more bemused than bothered by the idea.
"Well, 'Clan Beaters' would be nice, if you decided to field a quidditch team, but…"
"What about Clan Idiots?" suggested Ron.
"Not a bad idea, actually," thought Harry, "assuming that we tweak it a bit….I could use a jester or two."
"Erm…maybe 'Clan Fools?" suggested Fred.
Harry thought for a few seconds. "Fine, on condition that you both wear foolscaps at all official Clan functions."
The twins looked at each other with gleam in their eyes and replied in unison.
"Consider it done."