Fred Weasley checked the clock as another of the many who purchased products from
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes left the store. For a moment he stared at the clock in disbelief,
because it was moving in odd directions. After that moment, he realized that this was just another
of the many items on display. Fred checked a separate clock a moment later, which confirmed
what his mind had been telling him. Closing time. Leaving the counter and pulling out his wand
at the same time, he quickly changed the "Open" sign to display "Toad" instead. Sighing in
exasperation at another one of George's 'minor changes', he left the shopfront to see George
sitting at a small table, bent over a very long length of parchment.
George looked up as Fred arrived. Waving one hand down at the roll of parchment, he shook
his head. "Whoever said we had to calculate our profits every month was a bloody idiot! All this
math in one place shouldn't be allowed!" Fred walked over to the table and looked down at it.
"I suppose now is a bad time to tell you that one hundred twenty-seven minus seventy-two
must end in five, then?"
"What? Oh, yeah. Thanks." George said, altering one of the many numbers scrawled on the
parchment. Fred shrugged. "What was wrong with the sign? I thought 'axe' was good. Why
toad?"
"People get bored when you keep one thing too long."
"I put it up yesterday!"
"So?" George asked, a smile playing across his mouth. Fred looked annoyed and left the dark
room by way of a back door, which somehow also managed to open onto Diagon Alley. He
needed something to eat.
Ronald Weasley leaned back on the couch of the living room of his modest house. It was not,
perhaps, the best house, but he'd done well compared to the Weasley standard. Actually, the only
one of them who hadn't was Percy, whose ambition had been crushed repeatedly by superiors
who felt that he was simply too serious and unimaginative. Ron's thoughts twirled on that final
word. Sirius. He hadn't heard from Sirius Black in a while. That was peculiar. Maybe he would
talk to Harry about it, next time he saw him. Maybe he could catch him before work on Monday.
Or during work. It wouldn't be very likely that Harry would be off actually working, not during
these times. Being an Auror was easy work, these days.
Not that Ron would know anything about that, working for the Department of Magical Games
and Sports. That was where his love for Quidditch had been able to go, when he had realized he
simply had no skill on a broom. And he'd found another love there, as well. Andrea Weasley,
originally Andrea Starseeker. After dating for a year and a half, they'd become engaged, and then
married. As she entered, he smiled. "Remind me again why I never saw you at Hogwarts?"
Andrea shrugged. "Becasue I'm two years older than you and I was in a different house."
Ron sat up. "Right. I never thought I'd marry a Ravenclaw back then." He patted the seat
beside him. "Sit down, Ana."
"Not until you say you're sorry about insulting Ravenclaw's like that. Besides, I'm in the
middle of making dinner."
"Just because it's cooking doesn't mean you have to hover over it. That doesn't change
anything."
"Fine. But you still have to say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry."
"And mean it."
"Ana . . ."
"Okay, okay. I'm coming!" Ron laughed trumphantly as Andrea sat down beside him.
"I love you." Veritaserum would have had about as much effect on those words as it would
have had on a concrete wall, and Andrea knew it. She kissed him lightly.
"I love you too."
Harry Potter, world famous Hit Wizard and winner of two consecutive Most Charming Smile
awards from Witch Weekly(neither of which he knew about, as he'd denied their first three
attempts to give it to him after contacting him), rubbed his eyes. Even now, many years after the
death of Voldemort, they were still 'mopping up', as his superiors liked to say. People continued
to attempt to unite the remaining Death Eaters, and it was very often Harry's squad that the
Ministry turned to when these people revealed themselves. In that time, Harry had become too
familiar with the Killing Curse, a spell he had once thought he would never cast.
Placing his chin on his hands and his elbows on his desk, he began whistling softly, hoping
that his boss wouldn't forget to let him go. He'd just captured another one of the dark wizards, a
man who's face he thought he'd recognized, but coudln't sem to remember. Lifting his head, he
began looking down one of the many pages cluttering his desk, before finding the name. "Marcus
Flint. Hm." Marcus Flint . . . once the Slytherin team captain. Harry sighed. He wished that was
the only place he knew Marcus Flint from. He was also part of a small circle of the younger
Death Eaters, and they would likely try to get him out as soon as they heard the news. More work
for the Aurors.
Harry smiled. Hermione Granger, now an Auror, could probably take care of them all
singlehandedly. The odds of their succeeding were so low that they might as well not bother. He
looked up as something flashed, and he realized that Hermione was now standing in the room
too. She put a folder down on his desk. "We've been tracking this one down for ages, but
apparently she just got her hands on some really powerful item - we're not sure what - and
management decided that it was a job for the Hit Wizards, rather than us lowly Aurors. You're
authorized to kill."
Harry looked down at the folder, shrugging. "I was already authorized to kill her. Anyone I
have evidence of being a dark wizard -or witch- and resists attempts at arrest. But you know that.
Thanks, Herm."
Hermione nodded. "Any time, Harry. Appareo!" Harry opened the folder as Hermione
disapparated. He looked down at the name. Pansy Parkinson. The Harry-haters of Hogwarts were
certainly out in force today.
The last of Arthur and Molly Weasley's children now lived in a small apartment in London.
Actually, it only looked small. Despite the outer size of the apartment, Virginia had managed to
get her father to get the Ministry to approve certain charms for use in her apartment. The inside
was sparsely furnished, however, because she wasn't rich. Besides that, she didn't live in it often.
She spent much of her time away on trips with her boyfriend, making sure he didn't kill himself
-or get killed- during quidditch matches. Oliver Wood, keeper for the English national team, and
the Puddlemere United team during the offseason. The salary of a Quidditch player wasn't
horrible, but it wasn't meant to support two people. Ms. Weasley shrugged quietly. This one last
trip she hadn't come on, mainly because it was just for two days and there was a bit of work she
needed to do around the apartment.
She was regretting it. The intense love that who was then young Ginny Weasley had
unexpectedly developed for Oliver Wood hadn't faded, and she spent as much time with him as
possible. He had been away just two days, and she wished she had gone with him. But he would
be back tonight, she told herself. Looking up from her most recent sketch, she saw an owl fly
through the window. Taking its message, she read the contents.
iGin,
Five years since we started dating. It's been so long. I'll meet you where we
began, at eight. My love eternal, always to you.
From the red of my heart,
Ol/i
Virginia smiled. He had remembered their anniversary. Virginia berated herself
instantly for doubting. He hadn't forgotten four years ago, three years ago, two years ago, or
last year. It made a good excuse for them to head to one of the best restaurants in town,
anyway. And being able to celebrate their anniversary before they married was pretty good, too.
Virginia patted the owl affectionately, knowing that he wouldn't run. She went to find the
most stunning dress she could, and then to put it on.
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes left the store. For a moment he stared at the clock in disbelief,
because it was moving in odd directions. After that moment, he realized that this was just another
of the many items on display. Fred checked a separate clock a moment later, which confirmed
what his mind had been telling him. Closing time. Leaving the counter and pulling out his wand
at the same time, he quickly changed the "Open" sign to display "Toad" instead. Sighing in
exasperation at another one of George's 'minor changes', he left the shopfront to see George
sitting at a small table, bent over a very long length of parchment.
George looked up as Fred arrived. Waving one hand down at the roll of parchment, he shook
his head. "Whoever said we had to calculate our profits every month was a bloody idiot! All this
math in one place shouldn't be allowed!" Fred walked over to the table and looked down at it.
"I suppose now is a bad time to tell you that one hundred twenty-seven minus seventy-two
must end in five, then?"
"What? Oh, yeah. Thanks." George said, altering one of the many numbers scrawled on the
parchment. Fred shrugged. "What was wrong with the sign? I thought 'axe' was good. Why
toad?"
"People get bored when you keep one thing too long."
"I put it up yesterday!"
"So?" George asked, a smile playing across his mouth. Fred looked annoyed and left the dark
room by way of a back door, which somehow also managed to open onto Diagon Alley. He
needed something to eat.
Ronald Weasley leaned back on the couch of the living room of his modest house. It was not,
perhaps, the best house, but he'd done well compared to the Weasley standard. Actually, the only
one of them who hadn't was Percy, whose ambition had been crushed repeatedly by superiors
who felt that he was simply too serious and unimaginative. Ron's thoughts twirled on that final
word. Sirius. He hadn't heard from Sirius Black in a while. That was peculiar. Maybe he would
talk to Harry about it, next time he saw him. Maybe he could catch him before work on Monday.
Or during work. It wouldn't be very likely that Harry would be off actually working, not during
these times. Being an Auror was easy work, these days.
Not that Ron would know anything about that, working for the Department of Magical Games
and Sports. That was where his love for Quidditch had been able to go, when he had realized he
simply had no skill on a broom. And he'd found another love there, as well. Andrea Weasley,
originally Andrea Starseeker. After dating for a year and a half, they'd become engaged, and then
married. As she entered, he smiled. "Remind me again why I never saw you at Hogwarts?"
Andrea shrugged. "Becasue I'm two years older than you and I was in a different house."
Ron sat up. "Right. I never thought I'd marry a Ravenclaw back then." He patted the seat
beside him. "Sit down, Ana."
"Not until you say you're sorry about insulting Ravenclaw's like that. Besides, I'm in the
middle of making dinner."
"Just because it's cooking doesn't mean you have to hover over it. That doesn't change
anything."
"Fine. But you still have to say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry."
"And mean it."
"Ana . . ."
"Okay, okay. I'm coming!" Ron laughed trumphantly as Andrea sat down beside him.
"I love you." Veritaserum would have had about as much effect on those words as it would
have had on a concrete wall, and Andrea knew it. She kissed him lightly.
"I love you too."
Harry Potter, world famous Hit Wizard and winner of two consecutive Most Charming Smile
awards from Witch Weekly(neither of which he knew about, as he'd denied their first three
attempts to give it to him after contacting him), rubbed his eyes. Even now, many years after the
death of Voldemort, they were still 'mopping up', as his superiors liked to say. People continued
to attempt to unite the remaining Death Eaters, and it was very often Harry's squad that the
Ministry turned to when these people revealed themselves. In that time, Harry had become too
familiar with the Killing Curse, a spell he had once thought he would never cast.
Placing his chin on his hands and his elbows on his desk, he began whistling softly, hoping
that his boss wouldn't forget to let him go. He'd just captured another one of the dark wizards, a
man who's face he thought he'd recognized, but coudln't sem to remember. Lifting his head, he
began looking down one of the many pages cluttering his desk, before finding the name. "Marcus
Flint. Hm." Marcus Flint . . . once the Slytherin team captain. Harry sighed. He wished that was
the only place he knew Marcus Flint from. He was also part of a small circle of the younger
Death Eaters, and they would likely try to get him out as soon as they heard the news. More work
for the Aurors.
Harry smiled. Hermione Granger, now an Auror, could probably take care of them all
singlehandedly. The odds of their succeeding were so low that they might as well not bother. He
looked up as something flashed, and he realized that Hermione was now standing in the room
too. She put a folder down on his desk. "We've been tracking this one down for ages, but
apparently she just got her hands on some really powerful item - we're not sure what - and
management decided that it was a job for the Hit Wizards, rather than us lowly Aurors. You're
authorized to kill."
Harry looked down at the folder, shrugging. "I was already authorized to kill her. Anyone I
have evidence of being a dark wizard -or witch- and resists attempts at arrest. But you know that.
Thanks, Herm."
Hermione nodded. "Any time, Harry. Appareo!" Harry opened the folder as Hermione
disapparated. He looked down at the name. Pansy Parkinson. The Harry-haters of Hogwarts were
certainly out in force today.
The last of Arthur and Molly Weasley's children now lived in a small apartment in London.
Actually, it only looked small. Despite the outer size of the apartment, Virginia had managed to
get her father to get the Ministry to approve certain charms for use in her apartment. The inside
was sparsely furnished, however, because she wasn't rich. Besides that, she didn't live in it often.
She spent much of her time away on trips with her boyfriend, making sure he didn't kill himself
-or get killed- during quidditch matches. Oliver Wood, keeper for the English national team, and
the Puddlemere United team during the offseason. The salary of a Quidditch player wasn't
horrible, but it wasn't meant to support two people. Ms. Weasley shrugged quietly. This one last
trip she hadn't come on, mainly because it was just for two days and there was a bit of work she
needed to do around the apartment.
She was regretting it. The intense love that who was then young Ginny Weasley had
unexpectedly developed for Oliver Wood hadn't faded, and she spent as much time with him as
possible. He had been away just two days, and she wished she had gone with him. But he would
be back tonight, she told herself. Looking up from her most recent sketch, she saw an owl fly
through the window. Taking its message, she read the contents.
iGin,
Five years since we started dating. It's been so long. I'll meet you where we
began, at eight. My love eternal, always to you.
From the red of my heart,
Ol/i
Virginia smiled. He had remembered their anniversary. Virginia berated herself
instantly for doubting. He hadn't forgotten four years ago, three years ago, two years ago, or
last year. It made a good excuse for them to head to one of the best restaurants in town,
anyway. And being able to celebrate their anniversary before they married was pretty good, too.
Virginia patted the owl affectionately, knowing that he wouldn't run. She went to find the
most stunning dress she could, and then to put it on.