A/N:  Thank you to those who left feedback for the first chapter.  It means so much.


Disclaimer:  I don't own any of them.

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Homework was not something Ron normally enjoyed.


Okay, he never enjoyed it, but that was no excuse to push it off when he could be working on it now.  After all, he was a Prefect, and as such, he was supposed to be setting a good example for the other students.  Not that any of them could see him doing his homework early, of course, except for Ginny who really didn't count anyway, but it was still a nice, mature thing to do.

Hermione would be proud.

Charms was one of his more liked subjects; it certainly didn't bore him to death like History of Magic or befuddle him like Transfiguration or make him physically ill like Divination or cause him to cringe like Potions.  No, Charms was placed on the same level with Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts- still work and quite tedious occasionally but not quite so horrible.  Professor Flitwick had assigned a summer essay on the illegal uses of Summoning Charms for anyone who was going to be enrolling in his N.E.W.T. class for the coming year, and Ron had, on a whim, decided to get an early start.

However, he hadn't gotten any further than the heading of his parchment when his bedroom door swung open without warning.

"I know why Mum's in such a foul mood."

Ginny stormed into his room without bothering to wait for permission.  She was clutching a newspaper in a tight fist as she stomped across his hardwood floor and flung herself face down onto his bed.

He stared at her silently for a long moment, waiting to see if she was going to give any sort of explanation for her sudden appearance.  When she didn't, he simply turned around slowly in his desk chair and faced her motionless form.  "Do you happen to know how to knock?" he asked calmly.

Without even raising her head, she offered a rather muffled reply of, "It doesn't matter because you aren't even going to have a door pretty soon."

"What are you on about?"

Wordlessly, Ginny raised the arm that was still clutching the newspaper and held it out to him.  Ron took it, completely confused, as he was quite under the assumption that they weren't even taking The Daily Prophet anymore.  Not knowing what his she was being so melodramatic about, Ron unfolded the newspaper and stared down at the main headline.

"Ministry Official Dismissed; More Facing Inquiries."

He read the article that followed silently, taking in the news slowly, barely able to comprehend it at all.  Kingsley had lost his job, and Ron's own father appeared to be next in line... 

"Is this for real?" he demanded, brandishing the paper in front of him as he spoke.

Ginny finally pushed herself onto her knees and sat up to face him.  "Yes, look, it's from yesterday."  She leaned forward and pointed to the date at the top of the paper.  "I found it in the bin when I was dumping some scraps."

Ron stared down at it for another moment.  "But I didn't even think we got the paper anymore."


Ginny shrugged.  "I don't know.  Maybe Dad brought it home from work last night."  She reached out and retrieved it from him, looking down at the headline again as if she hadn't seen it before.  "But apparently they weren't planning on letting us know anytime soon..."

Ron's brow furrowed on its own accord.  He was so bloody sick of being kept in the dark!  "Why wouldn't they tell us?" he demanded, suddenly quite angry.

"Because they're assholes!" Ginny exclaimed; her face was set seriously into a look of disgust.  "I mean, god, what are we?  Six?"

He certainly hadn't been expecting her to be so brash about the subject, but he found himself agreeing with her explanation.  Their parents really were assholes.

"And what if Dad does lose his job?" Ginny continued desperately.  "We'll all probably starve to death!"

Ron knew that was a bit of an exaggeration, but he couldn't help but feel angry for a few selfish reasons.  After all, his mother had promised him all new school things this year now that they only had to buy for him and Ginny, but if his dad was jobless, they wouldn't even be able to afford tuition, much less new supplies. 

"This is ridiculous!" Ron said, not realizing how loud his voice was going to be.  "I'm sick and tired of being treated like some damn baby!"

"Me, too!" Ginny interjected just as loudly.  "Because think about it, if we were still little, and it was Bill and Charlie who were fifteen and sixteen, they wouldn't be left out of anything!"

Ron stared at his sister, somewhat shocked at how completely right she was.  He hadn't thought of that before, but it was true- when Bill and Charlie and even Percy had been their ages, they'd been privy to any important news that the family was facing. 

"It's just because we're the youngest!" he said furiously.

Ginny leapt to her knees, a determined glint glittering in her brown eyes.  "Yes!  And that's not fair!"

"No, it's not!"

"We've got to do something about it!"

"Yes, we do!"

And then, after such a strong outburst, the two youngest Weasley siblings stared at each other silently.  For a moment, it was as if they were starting a new revolution or something, but then, just as quickly as it had started, their enthusiasm dwindled.  They both knew there was no hope in getting their point across to their parents.

"Should we ask Mum what's really going on?" Ginny asked in a considerably quieter tone. 

Ron pursed his lips thoughtfully and then shook his head.  "No, because she's already pissy enough.  And if she found out we'd been snooping, she'd probably slap us it."

Ginny nodded, a frown playing on her lips.  Then she seemed to brighten slightly.  "Well, should we ask Dad?"

Ron sighed and thought over the prospect.  Their father was definitely the calmer of their parents, but they'd both witnessed him lose his temper a fair few times over the years and it certainly wasn't a pretty sight.  "No, he might start acting just like Mum."

"We should ask Bill," Ginny nodded at her own statement.

But Ron shook his head.  "Bill's not going to tell us anything that Mum and Dad won't.  And by the time we got a letter to Charlie, we could already be homeless."

"And we can't ask Percy, obviously," said Ginny with a look of distaste on her face.  "Because he'd probably say it would serve Dad right or something."

Ron nodded, and the siblings sat in silence for another long moment until they both looked up at each other and came to a simultaneous conclusion.

"Fred and George."

Ron frowned as soon as the words left his mouth.  "But I hate asking them stuff.  They always act so smug when they know something we don't."

Ginny shrugged.  "Well, what choice have we got?"

"None, I suppose," he said dejectedly.  "But we have to wait until Pig gets back from Harry's."  He'd sent his owl away that morning with a letter of what he hoped was routine normalcy to his best friend. 

Ginny, though, shook her head.  "Why can't we just go to Diagon Alley and see them?"

"Do you really think Mum's just going to say, 'Okay, have a nice day,' without any sort of explanation?"  Ron rolled his eyes.  "And we certainly can't tell her why we want to visit them."

"What?  Are we not allowed to just want to visit our brothers?"

"Not those brothers," Ron said firmly.  "If it was Bill, maybe she'd buy it, but Mum's not thick enough to think we want to voluntarily subject ourselves to visiting the twins."

Ginny looked quite offended.  "I happen to like Fred and George," she said indignantly.

"I know, Ginny, and that's what worries me."

"Oh, shut up."  She stood up and walked out of his room.  For a moment, Ron thought she'd gotten seriously angry at him and had stormed out, but she returned a few moments later looking quite uplifted. 

"We're in luck," she told him proudly.  "Mum's taking a nap downstairs, so we can sneak away using Floo without her knowing."

It was a good plan with one major flaw.  "And if she wakes up?"

"We'll leave her a note, so she won't worry."  Ginny shrugged.  "And then I guess we'll just get in trouble when we get back."

Ron wasn't entirely keen on the whole idea of 'Oh, well, I guess we'll just get in trouble when we get back' like his sister was, but he also knew that he would somehow end up getting in much more trouble than she would if they did get caught.  It wouldn't matter that the whole plan had been Ginny's; it would somehow be his fault.

However, there really didn't seem to be any other options.  If they wanted the truth about what was happening at the Ministry, they'd have to ask someone.  And the twins were, sadly, their best bet.

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Hermione had always loved Diagon Alley.  Each time she visited the small wizarding community, she couldn't help but be enthralled by the vast array of different shops and all the witches and wizards hurrying along down the narrow streets.  It had been here on Diagon Alley that she had gotten her first real idea of what the wizarding world might be like, way back when she was just an excited ten year old between two extremely nervous parents.

Her mum was with her now, and while she wasn't quite as twitchy and nerve-wracked as she'd been all those years before, she still regarded the other people around her carefully and was always sure to stay out of their way.


It had been a spur of the moment decision to come to Diagon Alley this afternoon.  Her mother had been coming to London anyway to meet briefly with a few other dentists and discuss a possible partnership, which would inevitably move her parents' work to the city for a few days each week.  Normally, Hermione would have rather clawed her eyeballs out than sit through something as boring as what she liked to term 'teeth talk,' but her mother had offered to take her shopping if she went along. 


And so they had arrived in Diagon Alley.

Hermione knew well enough that when her mother had offered to take her shopping, she was thinking more along the lines of Harrods and Fortnum & Mason, but she hadn't specified.  Besides, Diagon Alley was a much more valuable source of shopping than any of the London department stores. 

"Do you need new school robes?" her mother asked as they walked past Madam Malkin's. 

Hermione thought about the set she'd ruined the night Sirius had died.  Between almost being eaten by a great lot of centaurs and almost being killed by a few vicious Death Eater's, her uniform hadn't stood a chance.  Still, though, she had plenty of school shirts and skirts; she certainly hadn't outgrown any of her clothes in the last couple of years. 

"No, I'm okay," she said, glancing in through the window of the robe shop just in case she happened to see anything that she might end up needing.  The store appeared to be filled with the same old assortment of robes as ever, though, so she kept walking.

She looked ahead and saw that Flourish and Blotts seemed to be having some sort of sidewalk sale, and she was just about to hurry over to it when she stopped short at the sight of the newest store on the street.

Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

Hermione bit back a grin at the glistening sign that stood between a magical antique shop and a second-hand pawn shop.  From the looks of it, the new store was quite popular, as there were large groups of people bustling into the store eagerly and leaving with their hands full of packages.

"Mum, I want to stop in here real fast," she said, looking up at the double-storied shop.  Her mother eyed the store oddly but followed her in nonetheless. 

Hermione stepped into the store and was immediately shocked at how bright it was inside, not to mention crowded.  She was still disapproved of the way Fred and George had simply flown out of school without bothering to take their tests or finish, but she couldn't help but be pleased that they were apparently doing so well with their joke shop.

"May I help you find something?"  A pretty woman with short blonde hair approached them; Hermione noticed that she was wearing a black t-shirt that was baring the name of the shop in glittering silver letters and happened to be about two sizes too small.  Glancing around, she noticed that all of the employees happened to be very attractive young women with bright smiles and too-small shirts. 

"No, thank you," said Hermione, forcing herself not to roll her eyes at her observation.  "We're just-"

"Hermione!" 

She jumped slightly as Fred materialized out of the thin air directly in front of her.  She still wasn't used to the twins Apparating, and her mother looked completely startled. 

"Lovely to see you, darling!" he said in a very posh accent before turning around and yelling in his normal southern tone, "Hey, George!  Look who it is!"

Hermione looked up toward the second landing balcony and just spotted George before he disappeared and reappeared right beside his brother. 

"Hermione Granger!"  George reached out and engulfed in her in an entirely over exaggerated hug as if he hadn't just seen her a few weeks before.  When he released her, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So, what brings you to our humble store?"  Fred gestured around at the store, which looked anything but humble.  "Come to buy some special school supplies for next year?"

"No, actually-"  But she was cut off again.

"Now, Fred," said George smoothly.  "She's a Prefect.  We don't want to hinder her chances at making Head Girl, now do we?"

Hermione glared at him.

"Oh, now.  Even prefects are allowed to have a bit of fun from time to time, aren't they?" Fred said, brandishing a perfect smile at her mother.  "You must be so proud of your daughter, Mrs. Granger.  I don't believe we've ever been formally introduced."

"Mum, this is Fred and George," she swung her head from one to the other.  "Ron's brothers."

"Yes, our dear little brother is quite taken with sweet Hermione," said George impishly, winking at Hermione, who felt her cheeks heat up instantly.

"Of course, we can't really blame him.  She is such an adorable young woman.  No doubt she gets it from her lovely mother," George added with a dazzling smile identical to his twin's.

Hermione glanced at her mum and frowned at the way she seemed to be falling for George's obvious flattery.  Honestly.

"And she probably gets that brilliant brain of hers from you, too," added Fred.  "You must be brimming with pride."

"Her father and I are very proud, yes," her mother answered, smiling fondly at the twins.

"As well you should be."  Fred beamed at Hermione.  "We heard about your O.W.L. results- straight Os in every attempted subject!  You've beaten Percy's record!"

Hermione blushed again, though this time for a different reason.

"And you even managed to pull a few passing grades out of Ron.  That in itself proves you're a genius!"  Both twins chucked.  Hermione frowned.

"No, it doesn't.  Ron got those marks because he's smart.  I didn't take his tests for him, now did I?"

"Relax, Hermione," said Fred, holding up his hands.  "We know our perfect little Prefect brother is smart.  It skips every other one, see.  Bill was smart, Charlie liked Quidditch.  Percy was smart, we liked Quidditch.  Now, Ron likes Quidditch, but he's a bit hopeless, isn't he?  So, we'll let him do the smart thing and leave the Quidditch to Ginny."

"He's not hopeless," Hermione said just a bit too forcefully.  "He won Gryffindor the Cup, didn't he?  He just couldn't do his best with you two there teasing him all the time."

Fred and George exchanged horrible knowing smirks.  It was terribly infuriating, and Hermione fought down the urge to hex those smirks right off their faces.  Luckily, George changed the subject.

"Did you want to purchase anything, Hermione?"  He glanced around the crowded store.  "We have very good discounts for close old friends."

"Close old friends, nothing!" Fred said indignantly and reached out to squeeze Hermione's shoulders.  "Hermione, you're like family to us!  We'll give you the Weasley-Buy-One-Get-One-Free discount."

"How generous," she muttered sarcastically.  "But no, thank you.  I just wanted to see the store."

"Well, allow us to give you the grand tour," said Fred slyly.  "Refreshments?"  Before Hermione could blink, he had conjured a plate out of thin air and was offering it out.  "Would you like a biscuit, Mrs. Granger?"

To Hermione's horror, her mother actually reached toward the plate.  "Why, yes, thank you."

"No!"  Hermione grabbed her mom's arm and stopped her from taking a cookie.  She glared at the twins and hissed, "Don't you even dare!"

"Hermione!" said her mother in shock.  "That's a bit rude, don't you think?"

"No," she said firmly, still eyeing the twins warningly.  "Don't eat or touch anything."

"Oh, posh," said George dismissively.  "There's nothing harmful about them."  He waved his hand toward the biscuits.  "Do you honestly think we would give something dangerous to the woman who could quite possibly end up being our favorite little brother's mother-in-law?"

Hermione was going to kill them.

Her face was already blazing, but she was determined to look unabashed by the twins' remarks.  She carefully avoided her mother's gaze, so that she wouldn't get all motherly-nosy and start prying.  Especially when there was nothing to pry into.  Fred and George were just relentless.  They'd apparently been teasing Ron for years and had taken to including her in their torments the previous summer when they'd all been staying at Grimmauld Place.  They just couldn't seem to grasp the concept of just friends, which made Hermione wonder just how well they really knew Angelina, Alicia, and Katie.

Hermione struggled to think up a quick comeback, but nothing was coming to her.  And then, of course, the only thing that could have possibly made the situation even more awkward happened.

Ron walked into the store, followed closely by Ginny.

Hermione wanted to die on-spot and visibly cringed at the identical looks of delight that took over Fred and George's faces.  "Fate!" exclaimed Fred gleefully.

Hermione turned toward the entrance and saw both Ron and Ginny hesitate slightly upon spotting her; apparently, neither of them had been expecting to see her, just as she hadn't expected to see either of them.  After getting over their initial shock, however, the two youngest Weasleys crossed the store to where the others were standing.

"What're you doing here?"  Ron stared at her curiously.

It wasn't exactly the enthusiastic greeting she'd been hoping to receive the next time they met up, but she quickly pushed that thought aside, refusing to acknowledge that she had thought about what greeting she would have liked to receive from him.  Instead, she just plastered a smile on her face and prayed to whatever god still liked her (after the whole being a witch thing, she wasn't so sure any of them still wanted her) that she wasn't giving the twins even more ammunition to tease them with.  "We were just in London shopping, and I wanted to see the store," she said nonchalantly.

"Oh."  Ron glanced at her mother and forced a polite smile on his face.  "Hi, Mrs. Granger."

Hermione knew that her mother had always been rather fond of Ron, even if she hadn't ever had the chance to really get to know him.  She always rambled on about how well-mannered and nice he was.  Of course, it was because she'd never really had the chance to get to know him that she was able to believe that he was well-mannered and nice; Hermione knew his temper better than anyone and knew that he could be anything but nice when he wanted to be.  Still, though, he always managed to impress her parents.

Her mum smiled back nicely and said, "Hello, dear."

Hermione spoke up quickly to cut off any and all snickering that the twins were about to launch into.  "Well, what are you doing here?" she asked Ron and Ginny blankly.

"Yes," piped George, draping an arm around Ginny's shoulder.  "To what do we owe this amazing pleasure?"

Both of the younger siblings rolled their eyes, and Ron said, "We wanted to talk to you about some stuff."

Hermione knew instinctively what they wanted to talk about.  She wasn't sure how she knew, but she was positive that Ron and Ginny had shown up with only one purpose in mind- to discuss the article that had appeared in yesterday's copy of The Daily Prophet.  She'd read it but hadn't known how to broach the subject, especially since she wasn't even sure that Ron or Ginny would get to read the article anyway, what with them not taking the paper and all.  So instead, she'd just made the decision to let one of them bring up the topic.

It really wasn't any of her business, after all.

She was just about to suggest to her mother that they make an exit, when her mum touched her arm and quietly said, "I've really got some things to do in London, so why don't you meet me outside of that little pub in about an hour?"  By 'that little pub,' her mum clearly meant The Leaky Cauldron. 

Hermione nodded.  "Okay."

Smiling, her mother said goodbye to all of the Weasleys and left the store.  Hermione was just starting to wonder if maybe she ought to also make an exit and go to the sale at Flourish and Blotts when Ginny started right in on their reason for visiting.

"Did you know Dad's getting sacked?"

Fred and George exchanged an uneasy look, proving that they did, in fact, know something but were uneasy about revealing it. 

"We don't know that he's getting sacked," Fred said slowly.

"Well, what do you know?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

The twins glanced around at the crowd, which had filled the store.  "Why don't we go talk at the flat?" George suggested, more to Fred than to anybody else.

His twin nodded.  "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."  Stopping the same blonde employee who had tried to wait on Hermione earlier, he said, "Zandra, we're going to take a short break.  We'll be back in a bit, okay?"

She smiled that dazzling smile and said, "Sure.  See you then."

The twins started ushering the younger teens toward the door, but Hermione hesitated.  "Um, I'll just see you guys later."

"Nonsense," said Fred, shoving her along.  "You haven't even seen our lovely new abode yet."

Hermione, personally, had no real desire to see the twins' flat, but she didn't want to be rude.  And to be perfectly honest, she was a bit curious as to what was really going on with all the so-called inquiries.

The five of them walked about two blocks down the road and turned just slightly up a side-alley before coming to stop in front of a four story apartment building.  "Top floor," said Fred, holding the door open for everyone else to enter.  Ron and Ginny apparently knew where they were going because they led the way up the stairs and to the seventh door on the left.  George used a key to open the door, and held it open for the others.

Hermione didn't know what she was expecting to see when she entered a flat owned by Fred and George Weasley, but she certainly wasn't expecting it to look normal.  There seemed to be absolutely nothing strange or pranksterish about the small home, and Hermione was completely shocked by how clean it was.  She'd seen the bedroom they used to share at the Burrow, and she never in a million years would have expected that they even knew how to clean much less would exercise that knowledge. 

"So, this is it," said Fred, once again pushing her but this time toward the fluffy blue sofa in the living room.  "Can we offer you something to drink or perhaps a snack?"

Hermione glanced sideways at Ron, who sat down beside her, and they shared a look of mutual hilarity at the question.  "Am I stupid?" Hermione asked, turning back to the twins, who were now seating themselves in chairs on the other side of the room.

George pretended to ponder her response, and she glared at him in return.  Ginny rolled her eyes and headed out of the room, announcing to everyone that she had to pee.

Ron, though, got right to the point of why they were all there.  "So, was The Daily Prophet telling the truth?  Kingsley got fired?"

His brothers nodded. 

"And Dad's next on the chopping block?"

At this, they hesitated.

"Maybe..." started Fred.

"Or maybe not," finished George.

Ron stared at them blankly for a long moment before turning his lips inward and saying very sarcastically, "Well, thanks for that bit of information.  Right helpful, it is."

"Well, if you're going to get snippy then maybe you shouldn't ask for our help," answered George haughtily.

Ron ignored him.  "How much do you know anyway?"

"More than you do."

The younger one scowled.  "Then just tell me, alright?"

"And why should we?"

"Because if you don't, I'll tell Mum you've taken up dressing in drag."  Everyone's heads turned toward the hallway where Ginny was coming through on her way back from the bathroom.  She was holding what was very clearly a violet colored brassiere at arms length.  She stared at the twins quizzically, holding the piece of underwear up.

Fred snickered, and George turned a pleasant shade of pink but quickly recovered and shrugged.  "It's Tria's.  She works for us."

"Does she now?" said Ginny slowly, still eyeing the bra.  "Exactly what type of work does she do?"

Fred and Ron both found this quite humorous, and Hermione honestly didn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted.  George, though, took it all in stride and seemed quite amused by his sister.  "Nice, Ginny."

She shrugged and tossed him the bra.  "You should clean up your bathroom."

He caught it easily and returned a sarcastic smile.  "I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

Ginny settled herself on the other side of Ron and looked expectantly at the twins.  "So, seriously.  What do you know?"

"Well, sweet sister dear," said George sarcastically, "we know for a fact that, yes, Kingsley is fired.  We also know that the paper says Dad is being investigated."

"Well, someone should give you an award for being such fine investigative reporters," said Ron sarcastically.  "We certainly couldn't have inferred any of that from reading the damn article!"  His voice rose on the last words, causing Ginny to jump slightly.  The twins glared at him.


Hermione just wanted to ask him where he learned the word 'inferred.'

"Well, let me tell you what you couldn't infer, Ron."  For some reason, saying Ron's name with an accent was supposed to make George's statement sound more belittling; Hermione wasn't sure why.  "Fudge knew about the Order a long time before he let on.  In fact, he was just waiting for a chance to get it proved for sure; he knew all along that Dad and Kingsley and Tonks were working for Dumbledore.  And you know Fudge hates Dumbledore.  Well, this whole treason thing is complete bullshit because Fudge knows as well as we do that what they were doing isn't anything even close to treason, but he's just looking for a way to hurt Dumbledore.  He really couldn't care less that Dad or any of the others were involved; he just wants to do something to make Dumbledore look foolish and incompetent.  And what better way than bringing down the Order?"

All of this was said very quickly and very matter-of-factly, leaving the room enveloped in silence at the end.  Hermione ran George's words over in her head, as Ginny and Ron both apparently did the same thing.  The investigations and the firings and all of that really didn't have anything to do with the Order at all.  It was all just a way of getting back at Dumbledore.


Fudge was a bastard.

"So, do you think Dad'll really get fired?" Ginny asked, though this time when she spoke, her voice was softer and more timid.

"If he does, it'll be complete bullshit."

Fred's words would normally have drawn a reprimand out of Hermione, but she just couldn't be bothered at the moment.  There was too much to think about.  If Fred and George were telling the truth (and for some reason, she figured they were), then Fudge was apparently out for nothing but revenge against Dumbledore for being a more powerful wizard than he was.  If that was the case, there was no telling what else he was going to do.


It was almost as if he didn't care at all that Voldemort was back.

And that was something to be worried about.

"Do you know anything else?" asked Ron, sitting up a bit straighter and looking imploringly at his brothers.  "About the Order, I mean.  Mum and Dad won't tell us anything."

"Not really," admitted Fred.  "I think things might have gone on hold temporarily because we haven't really heard anything except that Lupin's got Grimmauld Place now.  Don't know if it'll still be used or not, though."

"There's also the chance," George added, " that there's still stuff going on, but just no one's telling us.  Mum still isn't keen on the idea of us being involved; she's still rattling on about how we're too young.  Course, she really can't do anything about it now."

"So, you think the Order is still meeting?" Hermione asked, speaking up for the first time.

George shrugged.  "Who knows?  All we know is what we hear second-hand."

Hermione hated to think that the best information they would get about the Order would be through the twins.  They tended to embellish things they heard with their own ears; there was no telling what they would make of second-hand remarks.

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