Author's Note: I seriously doubt anyone is still reading this story, but I've been feeling way beyond guilty about not updating in…um…wow, almost a year. Soooo…if anyone IS still reading this, a million apologies for my laziness. This will be the last chapter of RtL, and let's just say that K.D. Toling is retiring from writing fan fics (well, writing and posting them, anyway) once it's finished.
Disclaimer: I'll just go ahead and state the obvious one last time: I don't own anything of or relating to Harry Potter.
Chapter Five: Trust to Fate
"Now what?"
Fred and George, who had both been pondering the same question, turned to Lee, who was regarding them with an expression reminiscent of a small child that had grown bored. After their less-than-pleasurable run-in with Rob, the twins and Lee had decided that it would be wise to put as much distance between themselves and the pub as possible, so they'd ducked down the first alley in sight and Apparated to a different neighborhood. They had then spotted an ice cream shop and, comfortable that their chances of a second encounter with their new acquaintance were minimal, proceeded inside to purchase three much-needed banana splits to calm their nerves. Now, however, as they sat under the umbrella of one of the tables outside the parlor with their ice cream nearly finished, any remaining anxiety had long since evaporated and the familiar itch for mischief and excitement had come over them once again.
"Well," offered Fred at last, setting his plastic spoon down on his napkin, "I don't think it should be anywhere near another pub. Lee's liable to get us killed with another of his outbursts."
"Shut up," grumbled Lee, rounding on him. "You act like it's my fault that bloke has a problem with his temper."
"It was your fault he used it on us."
"Why, I oughta--"
"Oh, shut up, both of you!" said George, looking exasperatedly from one to the other. "I can't think with the two of you going at it!"
"He started it!"
"I started it? You're the one that--"
George sighed in defeat and went back to his thoughts, doing his best to ignore the fierce row that was now underway between his brother and friend. Glancing up at the sky, he was surprised to see that though it was only mid-afternoon, dark clouds had begun to gather in the sky, one of them drifting in front of the sun to block its light even as he watched. It appeared as though, despite their own plans, the weather had plans of its own, and George realized that if they were to go anywhere else before the rain started and they had to return home or get wet that he would have to be the one to get them going. Pushing aside his empty ice cream dish, he leaned forward slightly over the table and looked across the street at the various shops and offices that Muggles were entering and exiting in an almost constant stream. Almost immediately, his eyes were drawn to one building in particular: a small wooden shop with peeling green paint next to a café. Yet it wasn't so much the shop as it was the words written on the glass window at the front of the building that caught and held his attention, for there, in flowing lavender script, were the words Madam Dabbler's Psychic Works: Palm Readings, Astrology, and Much, Much More!
Almost unbidden, a grin began tugging at George's lips, and he felt the sudden urge to laugh. Perhaps it was his past experiences with Professor Trelawney, the fluke Divination teacher at Hogwarts, but he had misgivings as to the validity of the building's claims. He had never really paid much attention in Divination, but he knew enough on the subject to know that a true Seer was a rare occurrence in the wizarding world, and the idea of a Muggle claiming to be well-versed in the art seemed almost overwhelmingly ridiculous…and, thought George with a grin, highly entertaining. His decision made, George turned back to a still-quarreling Fred and Lee and, realizing that they weren't about to stop any time soon, pulled his wand out of his pocket under the table and hit both of them with a Silencing Charm, putting an end to their bickering.
"Much better," he said lightly, smirking at the looks of surprised anger that Fred and Lee were now directing in his direction. Satisfied that he had their attention, George removed the spell and put his wand back in his pocket.
"What was that for?" demanded Lee, but George ignored him, turning instead to point across the street at the shop he'd spotted moments before.
"Look over there and tell me what you see," he said.
Lee, still glowering, complied, as did Fred, and soon the anger was gone from their faces, replaced instead by looks of mild amusement.
"The psychic shop?"
"Yes. Bring back any memories?"
"Many, each as boring and pointless as the next," replied Fred, shaking his head in mock dismay. "Ah, wasted youth."
Lee smirked at his friend's response before turning his eyes to George, the familiar gleam of mischief all too apparent in them. "And you were thinking of going to have a look?" He jerked his head across the street in the direction of the shop.
"Naturally," said George, returning Lee's smirk. "After all that Trelawney taught us"-- Fred and Lee sniggered heavily at this --"we're sort of obligated to, don't you agree?"
"Oh, I agree," said Fred, chuckling as he rose to his feet with a smirk that widened when George and Lee followed suit. "I agree and then some."
The shop was shadowy as they entered, the only source of light being the hundreds of lit candles that were spread along a shelf that spanned all the way around the shop along the walls from either side of the entrance. This provided an effect that was both impressive and overwhelming, for though the constant dance of the shadows as the flames flickered was impressive and added an almost mystic air to the shop, the combined scents of all of the candles burning at once resulted in a smell that was so strong that it was almost suffocating. Choking slightly for a moment, it wasn't until the three friends became accustomed to the atmosphere of the shop and were able to regulate their breathing that they noticed the rest of the shop.
It seemed very old-fashioned in its design; the floor was made of dark, dust-covered wooden planks, and the bits of the walls that weren't hidden behind various posters of stars, moons, and mystical creatures seemed to be comprised of paneling of the same color and texture. There were several shelves filled with books on fortune telling and other forms of psychic work, most of them extremely battered, and here and there small tables piled high with cracked crystal balls, half-burnt candles, and what looked like star-tipped plastic wands with glittery streamers attached to them dotted the floor, their long white table cloths giving them the peculiar appearance of short ghosts with various items balanced on their heads. In the very back of the shop was a small counter with a register on it, and behind the counter was a doorway with beads of every color imaginable strung onto strands that hung from it. Their eyes were still on the beads when a stout woman about a foot shorter than Fred bustled through them, wearing a long, sweeping violet dress with a lavender ribbon around the middle. Her dark hair was tucked up under a turban, likewise lavender, and the moment she spotted Fred, George, and Lee, all of whom were surprised by her sudden entrance and all of whom were fighting the urge to smirk at the similarities between their old Divination teacher and the oddly-dressed Muggle standing before them, her face slid into a faraway smile and she took a step slowly toward them.
"Hello, my dears," she said dreamily. "I am Madam Dabbler, expert of all that was, is, and is yet to be. What is it you desire?"
George glanced over at Fred and saw that his twin was regarding the woman with raised eyebrows and a look that suggested that he was going to explode from trying not to snigger if he was forced to suppress his amusement any longer. Seeing that the expression on Lee's face was identical to his brother's, George gathered himself, assumed a straight face (or rather, as close to a straight face as he could under the circumstances), and addressed the woman, who was now peering at all three of them intently.
"Er…yes, hello," he said, allowing his smirk to manifest itself as a smile. "We were wondering if you could…erm…"
"Predict our future," supplied Lee quickly, jerking out of his silent battle of wills in time to provide an end to George's unfinished request. George met his eye and silently thanked him. Madam Dabbler, oblivious to the exchange, beamed at Lee's answer.
"Of course, my dears, of course!" she chirruped. "Would you like a palm reading, or a crystal ball session, or--"
"The crystal ball sounds fine, thanks," interrupted Fred loudly, realizing that the woman was prepared to go on for quite some time.
"Excellent! Of course," added the woman hastily, her dreamy demeanor slipping for a moment, "I knew that would be your choice. The stars told me in advance that you would be coming."
Fred wanted to ask if the stars had also told her that she had something hanging from her nose, but before he could speak she turned her back to them and motioned for them to follow her through the beads to a back room.
As he walked through the beads with Fred and George following behind him, Lee expected to see a room similar to the one he'd just left, and so his mouth fell open in surpised amusement as the beads parted and revealed what looked like a storage room with piles of wooden crates stacked precariously to the ceiling covering almost every square inch of floor and leaving only a small square of open space in front of him in the center of which there was a crystal ball (sitting in what looked suspiciously like a cat food dish) on a crate with four upturned buckets around it, creating a makeshift table and seats. Unlike the first room, this room was lit by only one candle on the crate, and Lee couldn't help but notice the ring of duck tape that seemed to be holding the bottom of the candle to the top. Behind him, Lee could hear either Fred or George, probably Fred, sniggering quietly as the twins followed him into the room.
Madam Dabbler, too caught up in her dream state to notice the reaction of the trio, hummed slightly as she waddled over to one of the buckets and sat down with a plump.
"Come, my dears, come!" she encouraged, gesturing for Fred, George, and Lee to take the remaining seats around the crate. "We must all sit before I can begin."
The three friends looked at each other, then all made a mad dash for the seat opposite Madam Dabbler so that they wouldn't have to sit next to her. Fred reached it first, looking both triumphant and relieved, while Lee and George, both shooting envious glares at Fred, settled reluctantly into the seats on either side of him and the woman.
"Now," said Madam Dabbler, folding her hands on top of the crate and peering good-naturedly around at the three of them as though they were old friends who hadn't spoken in some time. "Whose future shall I predict first? Wait, don't tell me!" she added, waving her hand to silence them before anything could be said. She closed her eyes and pressed her temples with her fingers, concentrating. Faintly, Lee thought he could hear her muttering something along the lines of "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe," but before he could be certain, Madam Dabbler's eyes flew open and she pointed across the crate at Fred, who jumped as though she'd tried to hit him. "You!" she cried victoriously. "You wish to have your future predicted first!"
She must have taken Fred's shocked expression as an affirmation, for she nodded briskly, evidently pleased with herself, and turned her eyes to the crystal ball, her hand fumbling against her side of the crate, obviously looking for something. A moment later, Fred heard a click, and a foggy light filled the crystal ball. Madam Dabbler leaned forward and stared into the mist, her round face looking even larger in its reflection. Fred saw her reach up and brush her nose quickly and smiled inwardly; it appeared as though 'the fates' had finally informed the Muggle of the object hanging from her nose.
To Fred's left, Lee was attempting to placate himself for the fact that he was more bored than he'd been since his final History of Magic class at Hogwarts by giving George a 'this-is-all-your-fault' look. Frustrated when he found that he was being duly ignored by his friend, however, he surveyed the room out of the corners of his eyes for something else to hold his interest. When he couldn't find anything, Lee exhaled grumpily and shoved his hands into his pockets. Then it was hard to say which he felt first: the smirk slipping onto his face or the cool wood of his wand brushing against his fingertips.
At last, Madam Dabbler raised her face and fixed Fred, who by now was half-asleep, with a solemn gaze.
"My dear," she said gravely. "It is my painful duty to inform you that the fates foretell of many obstacles in your path. Your world will soon come crashing down around you."
Fred didn't even have a chance to snort at the ridiculousness of her claim before a loud crash ripped through the silence of the room and caused them all to jump and Madam Dabbler to scream. Turning, they all looked around to see what had happened. Off in a corner, almost beyond the small circle of light that their candle provided them, a smashed crate lay on the ground. Madam Dabbler let out her breath and turned back to them, her smile now twitching nervously.
"Must have fallen," she said quickly, more to herself than to them, before she shook herself slightly and looked back at Fred, ready to resume. "Let me see, where was I…ah, yes. The fates, I'm afraid, also warn that you'll soon fall ill--AAAAHHHH!!!!"
She screamed and pointed at Fred's face, her own fearfully pale. George followed her gaze and cried out as well, though more in surprise than horror.
"What?" demanded Fred, not understanding their reaction until he looked down at the crystal ball and saw that he had sickly-looking blackish-green patches all over his face. He was about to jump out of his seat when he felt Lee kick him in the shin. When he looked over, Lee winked and looked down to his left quickly. Following his friend's gaze, Fred was barely able to make out the sight of Lee's hand gripping his wand in the pale glow of the candle's light.
Understanding dawning, he winked back at Lee before assuming a look of false panic and turning to look at Madam Dabbler, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "What's happening to me?" he cried, the hidden amusement in his voice surprising George even more than the marks on his face. "What else do the fates say?!"
Madam Dabbler began to tremble now, her eyes darting toward the door as though she wanted to run out of the room but was frozen to her seat by her fear. In a quaking voice, she stammered, "Th-the fates…the fates s-s-say…that…that…"
"--that you lie!" roared a voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. George half rose, ready to bolt, but Fred reached over and grabbed his arm.
"Just wait," he muttered with a wink, and George, though he thought for a moment that his brother had gone mad, eased reluctantly back onto his seat.
Madam Dabbler was looking frantically around the darkened room. "Whoever you are, show yourself!" she yelled, though her voice cracked and came out more as a whimper.
Suddenly, the mist rose out of the crystal ball and threw itself at her, the voice that had spoken before yelling things like "Phony!" and "Dabbler's a dud!" while cynical laughter echoed throughout the room and caused the stacked crates to shudder. A split second later, the candle flame flickered and went out.
Madam Dabbler had apparently had enough. Screaming and swiping madly at the fog that was swirling around her, she sprang off of her bucket and ran madly from the room, becoming entangled in the beads as she did so and thrashing about so severely that a good deal of them snapped off and remained tangled about her as she ran screaming from the shop.
The deep cackling of the room subsided and was replaced almost instantly by Fred and Lee's roaring laughter. George, completely confused by everything that had just occurred, looked from one of them to the other in the bit of light that entered the room from the candles in the front of the shop.
"Are you both taking the mickey, or is someone going to tell me what's going on?" he snapped, irritated not so much by their light-hearted behavior as he was that he seemed to be the only one of them that didn't understand what was so funny.
Lee stopped laughing and smiled wryly at the disgruntled redhead. "Thought old Dabbler could use a hand with her 'predictions,'" he grinned, raising his wand so that George could see it. "That's probably the most accurate they've been in a long time."
George, still determined to be mad about being left out of the joke, nevertheless felt himself begin to grin as well. "You're probably right," he admitted at last, realizing that trying to remain angry was impossible and letting his grin slip freely onto his face.
Later that night, as the rain George had guessed was coming was pouring down outside, the twins and Lee were sitting in front of a roaring fire in their living room, playing Exploding Snap and drinking warm butterbeer as they relived the day's events, all of them chuckling when the reached the point in Madam Dabbler's shop, Lee laughing so hard as he reached forward to add to their card tower that he toppled into it, the resulting explosion and his singed face sending Fred and George into fresh roars of laughter.
"We certainly gave her a bit of a show, though." said George, still chuckling as his thoughts turned back to Madam Dabbler. "Poor old fraud."
"I can see the headline of tomorrow's Muggle newspaper already," said Fred with a grin. "'Local Psychic Goes Psycho.'"
"I'll never understand Muggles," remarked Lee after Fred's prediction had been thoroughly snickered over. "They either ignore magic altogether, or, when they actually want to see some, scream and run away the second they do."
"Yeah, but Lee, you've got to admit," said George, taking a sip of his butterbeer and smirking. "I don't think that even Dabbler's fates could have foreseen that."
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Whew! wipes brow and glances at clock It took me over four hours to crank out this chapter! Yep, it's official, I'm old and need to retire. Thank you to everyone read and reviewed this story, and if you're still by some miracle reading it, double thanks to you and kudos for your extreme patience! Also, thank you to everyone else that ever read and reviewed any of my other stories and for keeping me in line when it came to characters being in character and for all of the fabulous suggestions that contributed to each one. gathers all readers in a tight hug Goodbye and best of luck to all of you in everything you do…except S.D. Chesko and Mr. Poopy Doopy; you two are just weird! ;) Just kidding, guys!