Chapter 8
BAM!
"Honestly, Fred, what on earth were you doing?" George eyed Fred with bright eyes while the latter attempted to pick up the boxes of Fake Wands on the floor.
"Trying to move those fake wands?" Fred replied huffily.
George rolled his eyes. "Call yourself a wizard, Fred?" He took out his wand, and with a swish and a flick, muttered a spell. The boxes hovered into the air and rearranged themselves into neat, organised stacks. George grinned triumphantly at Fred, who scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"I didn't think of that."
"That's the point. You don't think." George shook his head and opened the door of the Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, their new joke shop located at Hogsmeade. He was immediately overwhelmed by swarms of students fighting to get to a box of Harry's Hullabaloos (a sweet that transformed the consumer into the famous Harry Potter for a few seconds - a tribute to Harry, who had provided the Weasley twins with gold needed to set up the joke shop), or a bag of Fluffy Foncetti (chocolate bars which make one spit out confetti upon consumption).
"Ah, wonderful, isn't it? Booming business, as usual," commented Fred.
"Wish Dumbledore would organise more Hogsmeade weekends," said George happily.
Just then, a boy who was just about to leave the shop yelled as invisible hands at the door clamped him down onto a chair, while ropes flew around him, binding him down. The other shoppers stared in shock, while Fred shouted cheerfully, "Oh, don't mind him, the stinking Slytherin! Our anti- theft system has just been activated, that's all! Nothing much! Come on, continue shopping! He will be released 2 hours later, the thief!"
George took over. "Canary creams here on sale, only 10 sickles each! What a bargain! Tickled Teardrops for only 12 sickles each! Get them while stocks last! Hey you," he pointed at a confused shopper, then motioned to a machine on his right which was busily collecting coins from the customers, "you can pay here!" The shopper, whom the twins recognised as a Hufflepuff, thanked him gratefully.
The twins bustled here and there, while their Anti-theft Security System and Automatic Money-collecting System helped them out. Finally, as sunset approached and less customers appeared, they were able to sink into an armchair by the fireplace, too tired for words.
"What a long day," said George as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.
"I need a break," said Fred, his voice hoarse from all that shouting.
"Definitely," George agreed.
There was a moment of silence as the twins' minds filled with random thoughts. Fred visualised a table full of delicious dishes, while George thought of his comfortable bed. Meanwhile, flames in the fireplace cracked merrily as Burnell's Automatically Lit Lamps shone softly in the background. Handling a joke shop was no easy feat - even though it was much better than writing reports on leaking cauldron bottoms, training dragons in Romania, or even breaking fatal curses at Gringotts'.
***
Sundays meant free days, and free days meant that there was no joke shop to manage, no customers' bargains to handle, and no stocktaking to do. This suited the twins terribly, since they were too exhausted from all the work they'd done that week. It was most busy, and almost too irritating. The week began too pleasantly with a burglary at the joke shop. It was a clever case of theft which had tricked even their thought-to-be-invincible Anti- theft Security System. This made the twins extremely angry - they suffered a loss of 50 galleons, the brilliant anti-theft system that they had invented wasn't so brilliant after all, and they even had to close the shop for one day to improve on the system. Even the Department of Intelligence of the Ministry of Magic was unable to figure out who - or maybe what - had been behind the theft. It was too annoying. The twins grimly set about repairing and making amendments to the system, only to receive a letter from the Village Chief of Hogsmeade that all shops in the village would be closed on the following day for Major Enchantment Reviews, which meant a thorough check on all protection charms of all shops. This made the twins fume, and even a most soothing Alicia or Angelina was unable to calm down Fred and George. When they've finally decided to accept the facts and take the day off as a holiday, Hogwarts sent them an owl, telling them that their next Hogsmeade weekend for the students had been cancelled due to the "need for more time to prepare for the examinations". This infuriated the twins.
"I can't believe they're doing this!" exclaimed Fred.
"Our sales are rocketing downwards, it's not good," said George gloomily.
Fred went on a major cursing rampage, filled with a wide range of vocabulary and flowery language. He cursed almost everyone, from Eldernon Pithfire, Hogsmeade's village chief who was always draped with excessive gold and expensive robes, to Old Sammy, the village tramp who delighted in scaring everyone by going around shouting "Wassup?" in people's ears. Most unfortunately, Molly Weasley chose to apparate in the joke shop at that moment, with the twins' lunches in one hand, and her wand in the other. The twins cowered under her glares and stares until her anger finally subsided.
Fred and George have never been so glad for a break from work. Sunday was just what they needed - a time to stay at home, wake up late, eat home- cooked food and laze around, trying not to think of the Monday that was arriving soon. Things went just according to plan. They got sufficient sleep, and even managed to push their career to one dusty corner of their minds.
In the afternoon, when Harry and Hermione arrived at the Burrow for lunch, they played a game of Quidditch. Hermione had insisted that she be part of the audience and nothing else. ("If you must know, I'm terrified of heights," she muttered.) Percy had to write a report on "The Durability of Quills", and rejected their not-so-well-intended invitation. ("Darn, I was hoping that a bludger would make him sort out his priorities. Isn't family supposed to be more important than career?" George shook his head in mock disappointment. "That report will be revolutionary, it will. Millions of people will be thanking Weatherby for that report, I'm so sure," commented Ron. "Well, he's just being committed to his work, that's all!" Hermione sided with Percy.) Bill was being whisked away by Mrs Weasley to a hairdresser. ("No, Mum, I'm not going!" cried an exasperated Bill.)
It was during the middle of the game when Fred suddenly realised that he had forgotten something. He beckoned to George and the two of them speeded off to their room immediately, leaving the others behind, looking bewildered.
"I can't believe I actually forgot!" Fred clapped a hand to his forehead.
"Forgot what?" George scratched his head, trying to remember.
"Honestly, George, you're so thick you could impersonate Crabbe or Goyle. Don't you remember that five years ago, at about this time, we went messing around with the time machine and got to look at our future?"
George's eyes widened and he nodded. "We have to get away! We can't possibly stay here when our past selves suddenly appear here."
"Yes. That's why I think we should go on a holiday, while we try to make ourselves scarce here."
"A holiday? That's great! Fantastic! That's a great idea, we could finally take a long-awaited rest. I suggest going to Dormien Dotshead. It's a magical village in Scotland. I suppose we could also do a spot of advertising for our shop there. We could even consider setting up a store there!" said George.
"Ah. Dear George has an ulterior motive!" Fred grinned evilly.
"I-I do?" spluttered George indignantly.
"Of course! I, for one, happen to know that Angelina is on holiday there," Fred smirked.
George coughed hastily as his face reddened up to the tips of his ears. "R- really? I-I see."
Fred laughed. "We'd better start packing. Looking at the state you're in, I'd better be the one to go and make arrangements for accommodation at Dormien Dotshead."
George shrugged as Fred went out of the room. Then he suddenly remembered that he needed to bring something along on the trip. This would make things interesting. He went to his drawer and took out a circular package wrapped with brown paper, and stuffed it into his trunk.
***
"Ah. Talk about Hogsmeade having everything. Dormien Dotshead even has a beach!" Fred sighed contentedly as he looked out of the window of his hotel room. It overlooked the beach.
George shoved Fred aside and stuck his head out of the window. "Wow," he murmured in an almost awed voice. "It's beautiful!"
This was true. If anyone had ever been to Sleeping-giant Beach, they would never go to any other beach again. What made the beach so amazing and beautiful were not scantily clad women patrolling the beach, trying to attract attention, or wizard-made decorations hung everywhere. In fact, Sleeping-giant Beach had neither of those. It was the fine crystalline sand bathing in the Sun's golden rays, the clear, deep blue waves that gently swept the edges of the beach, and a mysterious and magical aura around it, authoritative, yet magnificent. It gave everyone a sense of "mess around with the beach and you're a goner". Everyone who went there simply enjoyed themselves, sunbathing or taking a refreshing dip in the cool waters. No one dared to litter or vandalise. No one was frivolous or flippant. It was almost like a holy place. Almost.
"Wow," George murmured once more.
Fred grinned. "Say 'wow' one more time, George, and Angelina's gonna be jealous. Real jealous. I daresay you've never even gaped at her this way."
George glared at him and sighed. "But don't you think it's beautiful here? It seems like such a wonderful place. It's so peaceful and undisturbed, like the only place You-Know-Who can't even have power over."
At the mention of Voldemort, Fred sobered. "I'm so glad that those dark times are finally over." A pained look flashed across his face.
Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord in his seventh year. But Voldemort had already taken too many lives then.
George glanced at his twin and knew what he was thinking of. "Don't think about Lee Jordan too much, Fred. It's all over. It's all history." He sighed, while Fred punched his fist on the table. "I hate You-Know-Who. I'm really glad he's gone forever. We all owe Harry a lot."
"But Harry owes us one, too!" George's face brightened.
"Ahh. Yes, of course," Fred continued, his face lighting up. He smiled wistfully, "The things we do for our dearest sister."
"Our only sister, you mean."
"Of course, you know me best."
George pretended to sigh, arranging his expression into a dreamy one. "Oh, I love you, Harry!" He imitated Ginny's voice.
"So do I. oh Ginny. please stop crying!" Fred threw himself completely into the role of Harry, and he pretended to wipe an imaginary tear from George's cheek.
The twins erupted into peals of laughter. It was a pity they didn't have an audience - it would have been a more enjoyable performance then. Fred clutched at his stomach.
"I-I still can't believe Harry's gonna propose to Ginny while we're on holiday! W-we really c-can't m-miss it!" Fred gasped.
"Of course we can't miss it!" George grinned. "That's why I brought something here." he said in a sing-song voice, glad that he knew something more than Fred, for once.
He rummaged through his trunk, as socks and shirts came flying into the air, strewn all over the room.
"Watch it George, this supposed to be my room! Make sure you move all this stuff into your room!"
"Okay, okay," George replied patiently. Finally, his head emerged victoriously beneath a pile of Ton-tongue Toffees, as he held a grubby package in his hand as if it were a trophy.
"What's the ruddy package for?"
"Ruddy? A ruddy package?" George sounded scandalised. Fred really reminded him of Harry, when they decided to bequeath the Marauder's Map to him. "This is a treasure I nicked from Dad's office! This," he pointed at the 'ruddy package', "is my prized possession!" he cried shrilly.
"Okay, George, calm down! So what's in it?"
George carefully ripped off the brown paper wrapping, and held a gleaming round mirror into the air. He paused dramatically, and dropped his voice into a low stage whisper. "This," he paused again, "is the Mirror of Apparitions."
"Huh?"
This was certainly not the response that George was expecting to get.
"Merlins, Fred, do you read? No? Okay. This," he repeated, "is the Mirror of Apparitions. It allows us to look at what's happening in another place at the same time."
"Oh!" Realisation hit Fred, who started grinning, "I see what you're getting at."
"Yep." George tapped the mirror three times with his wand, and said clearly, "Apparendum - The Burrow". The twins waited with bated breath as a blur image on the mirror started swimming into focus.
BAM!
"Honestly, Fred, what on earth were you doing?" George eyed Fred with bright eyes while the latter attempted to pick up the boxes of Fake Wands on the floor.
"Trying to move those fake wands?" Fred replied huffily.
George rolled his eyes. "Call yourself a wizard, Fred?" He took out his wand, and with a swish and a flick, muttered a spell. The boxes hovered into the air and rearranged themselves into neat, organised stacks. George grinned triumphantly at Fred, who scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"I didn't think of that."
"That's the point. You don't think." George shook his head and opened the door of the Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, their new joke shop located at Hogsmeade. He was immediately overwhelmed by swarms of students fighting to get to a box of Harry's Hullabaloos (a sweet that transformed the consumer into the famous Harry Potter for a few seconds - a tribute to Harry, who had provided the Weasley twins with gold needed to set up the joke shop), or a bag of Fluffy Foncetti (chocolate bars which make one spit out confetti upon consumption).
"Ah, wonderful, isn't it? Booming business, as usual," commented Fred.
"Wish Dumbledore would organise more Hogsmeade weekends," said George happily.
Just then, a boy who was just about to leave the shop yelled as invisible hands at the door clamped him down onto a chair, while ropes flew around him, binding him down. The other shoppers stared in shock, while Fred shouted cheerfully, "Oh, don't mind him, the stinking Slytherin! Our anti- theft system has just been activated, that's all! Nothing much! Come on, continue shopping! He will be released 2 hours later, the thief!"
George took over. "Canary creams here on sale, only 10 sickles each! What a bargain! Tickled Teardrops for only 12 sickles each! Get them while stocks last! Hey you," he pointed at a confused shopper, then motioned to a machine on his right which was busily collecting coins from the customers, "you can pay here!" The shopper, whom the twins recognised as a Hufflepuff, thanked him gratefully.
The twins bustled here and there, while their Anti-theft Security System and Automatic Money-collecting System helped them out. Finally, as sunset approached and less customers appeared, they were able to sink into an armchair by the fireplace, too tired for words.
"What a long day," said George as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.
"I need a break," said Fred, his voice hoarse from all that shouting.
"Definitely," George agreed.
There was a moment of silence as the twins' minds filled with random thoughts. Fred visualised a table full of delicious dishes, while George thought of his comfortable bed. Meanwhile, flames in the fireplace cracked merrily as Burnell's Automatically Lit Lamps shone softly in the background. Handling a joke shop was no easy feat - even though it was much better than writing reports on leaking cauldron bottoms, training dragons in Romania, or even breaking fatal curses at Gringotts'.
***
Sundays meant free days, and free days meant that there was no joke shop to manage, no customers' bargains to handle, and no stocktaking to do. This suited the twins terribly, since they were too exhausted from all the work they'd done that week. It was most busy, and almost too irritating. The week began too pleasantly with a burglary at the joke shop. It was a clever case of theft which had tricked even their thought-to-be-invincible Anti- theft Security System. This made the twins extremely angry - they suffered a loss of 50 galleons, the brilliant anti-theft system that they had invented wasn't so brilliant after all, and they even had to close the shop for one day to improve on the system. Even the Department of Intelligence of the Ministry of Magic was unable to figure out who - or maybe what - had been behind the theft. It was too annoying. The twins grimly set about repairing and making amendments to the system, only to receive a letter from the Village Chief of Hogsmeade that all shops in the village would be closed on the following day for Major Enchantment Reviews, which meant a thorough check on all protection charms of all shops. This made the twins fume, and even a most soothing Alicia or Angelina was unable to calm down Fred and George. When they've finally decided to accept the facts and take the day off as a holiday, Hogwarts sent them an owl, telling them that their next Hogsmeade weekend for the students had been cancelled due to the "need for more time to prepare for the examinations". This infuriated the twins.
"I can't believe they're doing this!" exclaimed Fred.
"Our sales are rocketing downwards, it's not good," said George gloomily.
Fred went on a major cursing rampage, filled with a wide range of vocabulary and flowery language. He cursed almost everyone, from Eldernon Pithfire, Hogsmeade's village chief who was always draped with excessive gold and expensive robes, to Old Sammy, the village tramp who delighted in scaring everyone by going around shouting "Wassup?" in people's ears. Most unfortunately, Molly Weasley chose to apparate in the joke shop at that moment, with the twins' lunches in one hand, and her wand in the other. The twins cowered under her glares and stares until her anger finally subsided.
Fred and George have never been so glad for a break from work. Sunday was just what they needed - a time to stay at home, wake up late, eat home- cooked food and laze around, trying not to think of the Monday that was arriving soon. Things went just according to plan. They got sufficient sleep, and even managed to push their career to one dusty corner of their minds.
In the afternoon, when Harry and Hermione arrived at the Burrow for lunch, they played a game of Quidditch. Hermione had insisted that she be part of the audience and nothing else. ("If you must know, I'm terrified of heights," she muttered.) Percy had to write a report on "The Durability of Quills", and rejected their not-so-well-intended invitation. ("Darn, I was hoping that a bludger would make him sort out his priorities. Isn't family supposed to be more important than career?" George shook his head in mock disappointment. "That report will be revolutionary, it will. Millions of people will be thanking Weatherby for that report, I'm so sure," commented Ron. "Well, he's just being committed to his work, that's all!" Hermione sided with Percy.) Bill was being whisked away by Mrs Weasley to a hairdresser. ("No, Mum, I'm not going!" cried an exasperated Bill.)
It was during the middle of the game when Fred suddenly realised that he had forgotten something. He beckoned to George and the two of them speeded off to their room immediately, leaving the others behind, looking bewildered.
"I can't believe I actually forgot!" Fred clapped a hand to his forehead.
"Forgot what?" George scratched his head, trying to remember.
"Honestly, George, you're so thick you could impersonate Crabbe or Goyle. Don't you remember that five years ago, at about this time, we went messing around with the time machine and got to look at our future?"
George's eyes widened and he nodded. "We have to get away! We can't possibly stay here when our past selves suddenly appear here."
"Yes. That's why I think we should go on a holiday, while we try to make ourselves scarce here."
"A holiday? That's great! Fantastic! That's a great idea, we could finally take a long-awaited rest. I suggest going to Dormien Dotshead. It's a magical village in Scotland. I suppose we could also do a spot of advertising for our shop there. We could even consider setting up a store there!" said George.
"Ah. Dear George has an ulterior motive!" Fred grinned evilly.
"I-I do?" spluttered George indignantly.
"Of course! I, for one, happen to know that Angelina is on holiday there," Fred smirked.
George coughed hastily as his face reddened up to the tips of his ears. "R- really? I-I see."
Fred laughed. "We'd better start packing. Looking at the state you're in, I'd better be the one to go and make arrangements for accommodation at Dormien Dotshead."
George shrugged as Fred went out of the room. Then he suddenly remembered that he needed to bring something along on the trip. This would make things interesting. He went to his drawer and took out a circular package wrapped with brown paper, and stuffed it into his trunk.
***
"Ah. Talk about Hogsmeade having everything. Dormien Dotshead even has a beach!" Fred sighed contentedly as he looked out of the window of his hotel room. It overlooked the beach.
George shoved Fred aside and stuck his head out of the window. "Wow," he murmured in an almost awed voice. "It's beautiful!"
This was true. If anyone had ever been to Sleeping-giant Beach, they would never go to any other beach again. What made the beach so amazing and beautiful were not scantily clad women patrolling the beach, trying to attract attention, or wizard-made decorations hung everywhere. In fact, Sleeping-giant Beach had neither of those. It was the fine crystalline sand bathing in the Sun's golden rays, the clear, deep blue waves that gently swept the edges of the beach, and a mysterious and magical aura around it, authoritative, yet magnificent. It gave everyone a sense of "mess around with the beach and you're a goner". Everyone who went there simply enjoyed themselves, sunbathing or taking a refreshing dip in the cool waters. No one dared to litter or vandalise. No one was frivolous or flippant. It was almost like a holy place. Almost.
"Wow," George murmured once more.
Fred grinned. "Say 'wow' one more time, George, and Angelina's gonna be jealous. Real jealous. I daresay you've never even gaped at her this way."
George glared at him and sighed. "But don't you think it's beautiful here? It seems like such a wonderful place. It's so peaceful and undisturbed, like the only place You-Know-Who can't even have power over."
At the mention of Voldemort, Fred sobered. "I'm so glad that those dark times are finally over." A pained look flashed across his face.
Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord in his seventh year. But Voldemort had already taken too many lives then.
George glanced at his twin and knew what he was thinking of. "Don't think about Lee Jordan too much, Fred. It's all over. It's all history." He sighed, while Fred punched his fist on the table. "I hate You-Know-Who. I'm really glad he's gone forever. We all owe Harry a lot."
"But Harry owes us one, too!" George's face brightened.
"Ahh. Yes, of course," Fred continued, his face lighting up. He smiled wistfully, "The things we do for our dearest sister."
"Our only sister, you mean."
"Of course, you know me best."
George pretended to sigh, arranging his expression into a dreamy one. "Oh, I love you, Harry!" He imitated Ginny's voice.
"So do I. oh Ginny. please stop crying!" Fred threw himself completely into the role of Harry, and he pretended to wipe an imaginary tear from George's cheek.
The twins erupted into peals of laughter. It was a pity they didn't have an audience - it would have been a more enjoyable performance then. Fred clutched at his stomach.
"I-I still can't believe Harry's gonna propose to Ginny while we're on holiday! W-we really c-can't m-miss it!" Fred gasped.
"Of course we can't miss it!" George grinned. "That's why I brought something here." he said in a sing-song voice, glad that he knew something more than Fred, for once.
He rummaged through his trunk, as socks and shirts came flying into the air, strewn all over the room.
"Watch it George, this supposed to be my room! Make sure you move all this stuff into your room!"
"Okay, okay," George replied patiently. Finally, his head emerged victoriously beneath a pile of Ton-tongue Toffees, as he held a grubby package in his hand as if it were a trophy.
"What's the ruddy package for?"
"Ruddy? A ruddy package?" George sounded scandalised. Fred really reminded him of Harry, when they decided to bequeath the Marauder's Map to him. "This is a treasure I nicked from Dad's office! This," he pointed at the 'ruddy package', "is my prized possession!" he cried shrilly.
"Okay, George, calm down! So what's in it?"
George carefully ripped off the brown paper wrapping, and held a gleaming round mirror into the air. He paused dramatically, and dropped his voice into a low stage whisper. "This," he paused again, "is the Mirror of Apparitions."
"Huh?"
This was certainly not the response that George was expecting to get.
"Merlins, Fred, do you read? No? Okay. This," he repeated, "is the Mirror of Apparitions. It allows us to look at what's happening in another place at the same time."
"Oh!" Realisation hit Fred, who started grinning, "I see what you're getting at."
"Yep." George tapped the mirror three times with his wand, and said clearly, "Apparendum - The Burrow". The twins waited with bated breath as a blur image on the mirror started swimming into focus.