Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling, Warner Brothers, and its various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended. Don't sue me; I haven't got enough money as it is.
A/N: Wimble/s means 'any of numerous hand tools for boring holes'.
Dinner
With The Dursleys
Chapter 1: Frederika's and Georgina's Drill Company
A loud knock was heard clearly on the clean, white, front door of Number 4 Privet Drive. The Dursleys were expecting it, mainly Mr. Vernon Dursley, as he had been rabbiting on about it since a week ago to his family, not including a sixteen year old Mr. Harry Potter who had just recently left for a magical, odd school called Hogwarts Witchcfaft and Wizardry.
Vernon Dursley was sitting down awkwardly in a plush, floral armchair, reading an article in the Muggle Times, an unusual paper which printed various articles about 'Muggles' which were frequently described as 'intelligent human-beings who know alot about eckeltricity'. He didn't know why he was reading it; after all, all it contained was definitions of this 'eckeltricity' and the different applications that it can be used with. His beady eyes skimmed quickly over the article on 'drilz' which vaguely reminded him of the event which was just about to happen, and he wasn't very happy about that.
"Vernon, please hurry up and get the door for your buisness partners! I'm too busy preparing the trifle and helping Dudley get ready for dinn -- no, sweetums, NO! The chicken is for dinner, not for now!" Mrs. Petunia Dursley shouted in annoyance directed at the overweight blob of blacmange that was their son. "Look, Vernon, please just go and get the door for those buisness partners. I'm losing my patience with the food here, since it should be absolutely perfect for me, you, Diddiedums and those people out there." she called from the kitchen.
"Yes, Petunia dear," Vernon sighed dramatically, whilst folding the Muggle Times up, and laying it on the spotless table infront of him.
"It's not like opening the door is going to be the end of the world!" A red-faced Petunia called, hot and bothered from both arguing with her husband and trying to force Dudley into a grey suit and striped tie.
Another knock on the door was heard, this time one which sounded rather impatient.
"But it is, Petunia!" Vernon argued. "If I don't get this drills contract today, Mr. Grunnings will most likely fire me! And what will we do then? Live like a tramp, like that Harry boy, or something? Perhaps enter our garden into a compotition and hope to death that it will win?"
Petunia had just about lost her patience with her husband, and shrieked, "Vernon Dursley! Either you get your backside off of that armchair or I'll no longer wash your clothes, feed you, keep the bed tidy for you, lay out your work clothes in mornings --" Her shrill voice was cut of by a high-pitched womans voice outside:
"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, if you are not there, we are afraid that we will have to cancel our drills contract with you."
Vernon sighed. "Coming," he said tiredly, anticipating the moment which may or may not get him fired from his job, preventing any income. Reluctantly, he stood up, and decreased his grey suit. He half-heartedly walked towards the see-through glass door, and turned the doorknob weakly. After he opened the door, he was greeted by two, red-headed, twin women, who looked not a day under 18. They were both dressed in an immaculately clean, tight-fitting, grey mini-skirt, along with a button-up, white blouse hidden by a grey blazer with small pink stitches along the edges.Their long and curly hair was done up in a simple yet elegant bun, and in their right hands they carried brown suitcases bearing the letters 'F&GWWW'.
They were an exact replica of eachother.
They were both impossibly beautiful, yet buissness-like at the same time.
They both smiled, their perfectly white teeth practically sparkling, their red, full lips curving upwards in a friendly manner. "Hello, Mr. Dursley, we hope we weren't disturbing you." the two extraordinary women spoke in unison.
"Of course not, sorry I wasn't able to let you in! Me and my wife were, erm...er...And my son, was, erm..." he spoke awkwardly.
"Don't worry, Mr. Dursley, we know exactly what you mean." they said, their warm brown eyes sparkling with micheif, what Vernon mistook for understanding.
Vernon blushed. "Er, please come in, er, Miss...?" he questioned shyly.
"Miss Frederika Weeslee," the woman on the left spoke, her voice calming and soothing, easing Vernon out of his state of embarrassment.
"And Miss Georgina Weeslee," the woman on the right finished.
"Yes, please come in," Vernon invited, stepping to the left to allow Fredericka and Georgina in, although they were still kind of sqaushed because of his bulky body.
"Thank-you, Mr. Dursley, you absolutely stupefy,"-- a little rustle of clothing was heard --"us with your extraordinary manners!" they thanked him once they were in the living room, huge smiles plastered onto their flawless faces.
"Would you like some tea and biscuits?" Petunia asked the women slyly, stepping out from the kitchen, eyeing their slender bodies with strong distaste. "Or maybe some coffee?"
"No thanks, Mrs. Dursley, I'm afraid I'll have to wait until dinner, since I've, er, got a sore throat, and, erm, the doctor said not to have any hot drinks, until, er, dinner," Frederika -- or Georgina -- answered.
"And I've, er, contracted it too from my bro-- ahem, sister." Georgina -- or Frederika -- replied.
Vernon, who had just came back into the room amazingly slow because he was somehow frozen for a short while near the front door. "Petunia, I'm afraid our guests are not here for some fancy tea party, they are here to discuss a drills contract with me." Vernon said. "You are welcome to stay for dinner, of course! We can have it right now if you wish, and we can discuss the drills then," he suggested.
"That would be absolutely spiffing, Mr. Dursley!" they echoed eachother, both obviously delighted at his request.
"Good, good." Vernon said. "Petunia, can you please lay out the table and food for our guests? Dudley, can you help aswell?" Both of the people nodded, and soon, all of the cutlery was set out in the right place (which took five minutes since Dudley couldn't figure out where to put the fork - not in his mouth, but on the table), and all of the food - cooked potatoes, brocalli, sprouts, peas and carrots in gravy, a quarter-eaten chicken, the pudding, strawberry trifle - were layed carefully onto five, seperate plates. All in all, everything was set out gloriously neatly on the extended kitchen table.
"Please, take a seat," Vernon invited, pulling out two wooden chairs from underneath the table. The twins eagerly sat down in them, and deposited their matching suitcases to the side of them. They waited until the Dursley family sat down themselves, before they began to talk - and eat.
"So, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," Frederika spoke, whilst chewing frantically on a piece of chicken. She swallowed noisly, earning a frown from Vernon and a glare from Petunia. "And ickle baby-waby Mr. Dursley," she added, much to the ditress and embarrassment of Dudley. "I may aswell re-introduce myself, along with my br -- sorry, sore throat -- sister, Georgina. I am Miss Frederika Weeslee,"
"And I am Miss Georgina Weeslee."
"Yes, not to sound rude, but we know already know that. But may I ask a question? What does the 'F&GWWW' on your matching suitcases mean?"
The two women glanced nervously at eachother.
"Erm," one of them said, probally Georgina -- or Frederika.
"Frederika's and Georgina's Wonderful Wonderous Wimbles?" one of them said in a small, questioning voice. Earning a nod from her twin, she said again, "Frederika's and Georgina's Wonderous Wonderful Wimbles!"
"Ooh, I see! I've been wondering, you see, because my wife's late sister's son had some friends with a company called 'Weasleys Wiz--', er, I don't think I should be saying this to you."
An alarmed expression quickly rose upon the two women's faces, and their facial expressions remained worried for a short while, until Frederika -- or Georgina -- spoke up, "It's okay, Mr. Dursley, whatever company they own is probally a mischeivious and dangerous one, and we don't want to be involved with any company like that," she said, with a slight muttering under her chicken-flavoured breath: 'unless we actually are that company,'.
"You are completely right!" Vernon said, spooning up a large fork-full of potatoe in his mouth as he spoke, resulting in a large piece of potatoe finding its way on his once dirt-ridden suit. "Oops, clumsy me!" he blushed. "I'm getting as bad as Dudley!" he said, glancing at his son to find his son's grey top transformed into brown with the occasional yellow lumpy bit.
"Oh, Vernon! You know what I've said about you making a fool of yourself during dinnertime and lunchtime! Now, go and clean yourself up!" his wife commanded.
"It's okay, let me clean him up, Mrs. Dursley!" Frederika said delightfully, standing up from her seat and walking over towards Vernon with a large brown stick in hand. "Don't worry, Mr. Dursley," she said as she neared him. "This isn't one of those fake wand things that only mentally crazy people sell," she soothed the wide-eyed Vernon and his family. "This is a, er, cleaning mini washer, which, erm, responds to your voice!"
"Scorgify!" she shouted, the mini-washer soon removing the potatoe and saliva off of Vernon Dursley. Aswell as his top.
"Argh!" Petunia and Dudley screamed at Frederika. Well, Dudley tried to, but some chicken spat out of his mouth as he did so, resulting in Petunia covered in chicken and gravy. "ARGH!" Petunia screamed again. She stood up quickly, the chair clattering noisily on the wooden floor, which created a large scratch in the once flawless surface.
Petunia Dursley looked like she was about to explode.
"That's it! You two women are out of this house NOW!" Petunia picked up the twin's suitcases and began to beat them with them, as if to hurry their exit. "NOW!" she shrieked some more. Chucking the suitcases at the women, she turned to her husband. "And you, Vernon, you are going to have to forget about your job, because of these two trouble-making women! They only want you for your body!"
The twins shivered crazily.
"And you idiot, get a damn top on!" she continued. She then turned to the twins again. "I said, get out of my house NOW, BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!" Frederika and Georgina immeadiatly abandoned their futre plans when they saw Mrs. Dursley wield a large, soapy frying pan, and they ran away with their matching suitcases in hand.
But not before they incantinated another spell:
"Babblicio!" they shouted in unison, their mini-washer sticks pointed towards the Dursley family. Petunia Dursley, Vernon Dursley, and Dudley Dursley instantly began to babble alot of nonsense - not that it made any difference though.
After the two, young, twin women had soon fled, and after the babbling charm had worn off, Vernon Dursley could be heard half-heartedly saying, "I guess we'll have to go with that gardening compotition, then."
To Be Continued...