February 8th

Haven't written for a while, eh? Swamped by Hagrid-sized homework load. Sorry. (not like anyone else is reading this anyway). Although, since you don't have feelings I guess it isn't necessary to apologize.

Lee mouthed off to Madam High Inquisitor today. She's just introduced Educational Decree six hundred and ninety-seven or something…in which teachers can't discuss anything unrelated to their subject with students. Well, we happened to be playing Exploding Snape in her class, and she so blasphemously told us off! Well, Lee nobly pointed out that she couldn't do any such thing, because it's not remotely Defense-related. She gave him detention. Hypocrite.

Damn toad. But we're not fussed; we've got plans…

Meanwhile, the Fever Fudge is almost perfect. Almost being the key word. And in our spare time when I've nothing better to do than vent about Ang's blatant dating and Stephanie's at Charms Club or Remedial Potions (have refrained from mentioning that last part to any of the girls because they'll think I've sunk unimaginably low), and George isn't with Leesh for obvious reasons, we've come up with some nice new stuff.

First, we've got Vanishing Hats. George's idea…they make your head disappear. Simple but accurate placement of a proper Disillusionment Charm…no one will suspect. I created color-changing wigs (which I refuse, despite Lee's insistence, to tell Steph about), which go pretty much any color you want. It's like being a Metamorphmagus…only not. I'm trying to trick one out so its all the colors and makes you look like a clown. I got the idea a couple months ago, but all I had at first was the color-changing bracelet I gave Angelina for Christmas.

Aaah, yes. What fun that experience has been.

See, about two weeks ago, George and Alicia broke up. Nothing serious (as if it would be with those two); they're just as good friends as before without a hint of awkwardness.

Me and Ang? Different story entirely. And we weren't even dating.

The conversation we had (first proper one for weeks) while they were breaking up went something like this:

"So," I said, nodding stupidly. "How's Andrew?"

"Great. How's Steph?"

"Great."

"So, Quidditch." We were both nodding stupidly by this time.

"Yeah," Then I couldn't help the honesty. "Coote and Peakes're awful!"

Ang chuckled. "Yeah, well, they were the best that showed up for tryouts."

"Thank god we didn't go watch those."

"Fred! You can't really talk, you know."

"What?" Nonplussed.

"Come on, don't you remember? Not many still do, but you should. When you joined the team in second year with the rest of us, you weren't that great either! You hit the Quaffle during our first game! Granted, it scored a goal, but only because the Keeper was taken completely by surprise!"

We started to laugh. "Hey, if you ask me, he'd've been more surprised if he actually blocked it." I said with a snort.

We were actually laughing. Laughing together, at that same thing. It felt good, I must say, and I wondered if maybe, everything would be all right…

"Who was it he'd always boasted he'd play for?" asked Ang.

"The Appleby Arrows," I said promptly. "They're Steph's favorite team."

You IDIOT!

Dammit, I just had to bring up my stupid girlfriend, didn't I? Not that I'm treating Steph like dirt or anything, because I'm not. And its not like shes stupid, well, she kind of is. I'm nice to her, but DAMMIT, I DON'T FANCY HER! Wow, I'm starting to swear an awful lot.

Which is perhaps just as bad. But she's happy, isn't she? As long as no girls find out I don't feel about her quite the way she does about me, I'm all right. And, I'm getting some pathetic form of revenge on Ang…

Anyway, that revenge didn't include murdering the best conversation we've had in months, which is why the moment Alicia showed up I kicked myself very hard.

I am an idiot.

After several laps around the lake (too numerous to use an actual number), Alicia asked Ang if she should give George back the bracelet he gave her for Christmas.

Idiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiot!

I'd feel better directing that at Leesh, but it's really my fault for listening to George and giving Angelina a would-be romantic gift. I could've varied it to be more platonic or something, couldn't I? But I didn't. True, it was honest, but idiot!

Judging by Ang's expression, she'd put two and two together. I wanted to just dive into the lake, but didn't for two reasons:

My feet were glued to the ground

It was January, idiot!

Instead I had to stay through he torturous revealing of my feelings, and speak using words I don't ever use or intend on using again.

Finally, I was released from this mortifying situation. I mean, Ang knows. And I know that she knows. Plus she knows that I know that she knows, and Leesh knows we both know that Ang knows that I know that she knows.

As you can imagine, it didn't look remotely good to me. So, I go the hell out of there.

I was panting in the entrance hall (began sprinting as soon as I was out of view as far as Leesh and Ang are concerned), when Stephanie seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Hi, Fred!" she said brightly. She didn't seem to realize I was gasping for breath.

"Fred, the next Hogsmeade date is for Valentine's Day!"

"Oh," I tried to look interested.

"Are we going?" she asked expectantly.

"Wha — oh. No. I mean, George and I have to meet someone. Er…family friend."

Family friend, business manager of Diagon Alley…same difference, eh? We actually don't know her name, just that she's a she. All we know is that, and that she's met Dad (once, briefly, but a Weasley's features aren't exactly difficult to remember, are they?), and by some miracle (possibly one named Florean Fortescue) has agreed to meet us in her Hogsmeade flat above the Three Broomsticks.

Despite all the Angelina/Stephanie issues I'm facing right now, I can't help but be excited, and George is too. We've told Lee but sworn him to absolutely secrecy (he agreed reluctantly because he's not coming and will have to stop himself from blabbing to the girls), and he's excited too. I repeat, why shouldn't we be? This is it, the beginning of 'adulthood' in our world, and for me and George it looks like we can really live out our brilliant dream.

Makes me feel like less of an idiot, really.

February 14th

George and I ate breakfast quickly, anxious to meet the business manager and make a good impression by being early (or at least on time). The girls seemed quite confused to see us eating so much faster than normal, especially since we were supposedly staying back to watch Angelina's all day Quidditch practice with them and do our homework (Trish's idea…yeah right).

"You can always take the food with you," said Leesh, wincing as George drained his goblet of pumpkin juice in one go.

"Or you could just learn the Killing Curse, that'd finish you faster than gluttony," suggested Trish, looking superiorly revolted. I swallowed.

"Well, actually, George and I aren't coming to the practice. Not yet, anyway," I added in response to the looks of outrage on Angelina and Alicia's faces.

"Why?" Trish again, looking skeptical and suspicious.

George sighed. "Look, girls, we promise we'll tell you if it looks like a success. But for now, let's not jinx a good plan, eh?"

None of them seemed satisfied by this answer, but we got up and left at that moment, leaving Lee to hide from any questions they'd shoot at him (if they realized he knew where we were going).

"Fred!" a familiar voice called from across the entrance hall as we approached the doors. I turned around. It was Angelina.

"I'll wait outside, mate," said George. He winked discreetly and pushed the doors open.

"Erm…what is it Ang?" I asked, praying she wasn't going to ask about he Bracelet Incident. Thought, actually, we've managed thus far to act like it never happened.

"I just had to check," she said. "That you two aren't' gong to do anything…stupid. I mean, don't get yourselves expelled or anything just because Mundungus Fletcher made a good offer."

I grinned. "Don't worry. Dung's not involved, so we're completely legitimate…today."

She gave me a don't-joke-about-this look for a moment, then grinned as well. For a fraction of a second I considered staying back to watch practice and not worrying about a stupid shop in Diagon Alley at all.

Smack yourself, Fred.

"Actually," I said, making a quick decision. "I can tell you this. Remember what I wrote to you over the holidays? About a shop? Well we've got a meeting today with the business manager of Diagon Alley, and we're hoping she'll help us get one."

My excitement must've shown, and it must've spread to Angelina too, because she looked thrilled.

"Fred, that's wonderful!" For about a second it looked like she was going to hug me, but she seemed to stop short. Which was rather unfortunate, I miss her hugs. Instead, I got a pat on the shoulder, but I appreciate it.

"Promise me one thing, though," she said. Ooh, dramatic effect!

"Let's hear it first."

"Use it to get rid of Umbridge. Not your shop, I mean, what's in it. The talent. You're the only ones who can."

I was slightly taken aback by the suggestion, but was grinning again almost immediately.

"We'll cook something up."

Then a quick wave, and I was outside.

"So," said George, smirking as he warmed his hands. "She break up with Rimmer yet?"

I threw a snowball at him (I'm extraordinarily quick at making them).

The walk down to the village was fast, since we didn't want to spend more time outside than was absolutely necessary. The Three Broomsticks was packed as usual, and we acknowledged all greetings coming our way with a lazy wave of the hand. As Madam Rosmerta came by with a tray of Firewhiskeys, George tapped her on the shoulder.

"Oy, Madam Rosmerta," he whispered. She turned and smiled.

"Why, if it isn't the Weasley twins. What'll it be Fred, George? Nothing on this tray, mind you."

"Nah," I said. "We're here on business." Always wanted to say that! Along with several other lines… "Where's the business manager of Diagon Alley staying?"

Rosmerta looked impressed that it was actual business. "Up the back stairs," she said. "Then up the spiral staircase at the back of the sitting room there—Head Flat. Anything else?"

"We shook our heads.
"Right, well, I'll off then. This tray might explode if I wait another minute. Have a nice day boys, and don't get into any trouble!"

Grinning as usual, we headed behind the bar and went up the stairs. The staircase turned twice before we came to a surprisingly shiny mahogany door. I mean, who has time to shine a door? Maybe it's a self shinning door, that would be pretty nifty. George pushed it open (looking nervous now; we both were, I imagine), and we found ourselves facing a sort of lobby. There was a dark wooden desk, a sofa, and two dim red lamps on tables. A fire was crackling in the fireplace—just opposite another staircase! This one was carpeted in red, spiraling upward.

"Shall we?" said George. I grinned more nervously still as we climbed the staircase. At the top, we found ourselves face to face with another mahogany door, this one reading "Head Flat" in gold letters. I knocked. George took a deep breath.

What had sounded like music quickly ceased, and we heard footsteps. A moment later, the door was ajar, and a hazel-green eye was surveying us from beyond it.

"Come in," said a female voice, and the door opened.

For a fraction of a second I thought a house-elf had opened the door. Then I realized it was a woman, but she was quite short; five feet at the most, I'd say. Not that that's really short, but somehow I imagined the business manager of Diagon Alley to be someone tall.

"I'll assume you are the Messrs. Weasley?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," said George. "This is Fred, and I'm George. His hair's always a bit longer than mine; that's how you can tell us apart."

"Excellent," and she seemed to loosen up considerably. "I'm Base. Base Lambardi, but considering we'll be working quite closely for a long time, I'd suggest you call me Base."

She smiled and went over to a muggle record player, turning on the same vinyl record we'd heard from beyond the door.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she asked. "I'm afraid I haven't got any butterbeer since Rosmerta takes it all for the pub, but I've got quite a bit of green tea."

"No thank you," I said as politely as I could. Base shrugged as if it was our loss as she went and poured herself a cup. After doing this, she picked up a plate and sat down on the sofa opposite us.

"Okra?" she offered, holding out the plate. I think I saw George make a bizarre face out of the corner of my eye.

"Erm…what kind?" I asked, gazing warily at the lump vegetables.

"Fried," she said. "But with some extra flavoring I got from a recipe book. 100 Ways to Cook Okra, by Melba Tristram. Lovely book."

I joined George this time as we both stifled snorts. "No thanks," George said in a slightly choked voice. "Actually, we just ate."

Base shrugged again and helped herself to the okra, sipping her green tea daintily in between.

"So," she said. "I hear you gentlemen would like to purchase a shop? What for?"

"A joke shop, Miss—Base, I mean," George said. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"A joke shop to rival Zonko's, Base," I added. "If I may be so bold. Of course, they have inspired us quite a bit."

"Do you have any of your products?" asked Base, setting down her empty teacup.

"As a matter of fact, we do."

George and I reached into our pockets and began pulling out fistfuls of Skiving Snackboxes, photographs of their effects, and those of the Vanishing Hats as well. Base seemed impressed.

"What's this one?" she asked, holding up a pack of Fever Fudge. "Ooh…"

"Yes, Fred, why don't you demonstrate?" said George, offering me the orange end. I took it, grinning, and immediately felt as though I was in a furnace. George handed me the purple end after making Base feel my forehead, and the temperature immediately returned to normal.

"Amazing," said Base, chuckling. "Any side effects for any of the Snackboxes?"

"Some boils with the Fudge, depending on the user." I said, while pulling a color-changing wig out of my pocket. "But we'll be selling murtlap essence as well, so people can get rid of those.

"Thoughtful, said Base. She then pointed at the wig. "What's that?"

"Try it on," I said. She pulled the blonde wig over her acorn-coloured hair, pulling the shoulder length curls up in a bun first. Then, she gasped as the wig turned red-orange.

"Have you always wanted red hair?" George asked, laughing.

"No!" she cried, looking amazed. "I was only just thinking you two had a nice hair color…how ingenious!"

She took the wig off, laughing with us, and sat down on the sofa again. George conjured a box and we packed all the merchandise into it, while Base began to paint her fingernails.

"Well gents," she said as we sat down opposite her. "You're in luck. It just so happens that number ninety-three is free. I will speak to the previous owners and check on its status, also the size of your living space. Congratulations," she added kindly, smiling at our incredulous expressions. "You boys are quite talented, and I can see you've worked very hard on this store. Well, now you've got it, and you deserve it. There's nothing greater for me than watching young minds with initiative succeed at what they love. Except…perhaps, picking flowers." She laughed. "But that's a different story."

Base stood up (though it made little difference), and we rose too. She shook each of our hands, and smiled again.
"Congratulations once again, boys," she said. George mumbled an embarrassed thanks. "The flat and the shop should be ready in a month or so. I'll send you a letter of notice when they are. You'll need to package all your merchandise in boxes just like this, and create a logo for the shop as well. I'll explain more when we next meet, after you've moved in, but that's the general idea. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get to a poetry reading in Wembley…plus, I need to buy some more okra. Good day, boys."

She saw us to the door then said good bye once more as it swung shut. George and I waited till we were all the way downstairs and outside the pub before whooping.

"YEAH!" I cried, running up to the gates of the school and punching the air. Feeling as though I was saying these words with quite a few exclamation marks. "George, mate, my god can you believe this—we've done it! Our one ambition in life other than dying as prematurely as Trelawney predicts—WE'VE DONE IT!"

We ran all the way back up to school and to the Quidditch pitch, no longer aware of the weather, yelling and whooping all along. As soon as the two of us and our mad gyrations reached the pitch, Lee stood up and joined in upon seeing us. Shouting unintelligible words, we reached him and Trish in the stands and sat down (rather reluctantly) to watch the practice. Trish looked as though she'd completely given up on us, and Alicia had stopped in midair looking utterly bewildered. But none of that mattered, and not only because we'd tell them later, but because when I saw Angelina, she was grinning and flew a massive and victorious loop before resuming play.

YAY for chapter twenty three! Applauding for you. Took a bit long, but that can be justified by its size and the fact that I wrote it out in my English notebook (EIGHTEEN PAGES) and had to type all that up. See, you get to do productive stuff in your English class, mine consists of me writing about a gum eraser. Anyhow, here it is, and methinks you'll like it. I doubt you give us anything you didn't think they would like. It's definitely one of my favorites. Chapter 18 is still my favorite. Oh, and chapter title is from The Professor and the Madman, a most wonderful book.

Response from our reviewers for chapter twenty-two was…dismal. I was extremely upset myself. Come on, guys, we know you're out there! Or atleast, we hope your out there. Give us some feedback! Praise, con crit, we'll take it all!

Nikki- Goog chapter? Well, that's definitely an original compliment. Now Proma, that was a tad mean, compared to the typos I normally make well, its good. Anyways, thanks for reviewing. Dear god no, Stephanie is NOT a Ravenclaw. :winces: Joins wincing My face looks kind of cool like this… Anyways, I won't be able to edit your next chapter, I'm sorry but I'm taking high school classes and Drivers Ed and classes at a community college. Its an overload.

Dark Hermit Kaelin- Fred's point of view :snaps fingers: done! I never learned how to snap my fingers. Bring me the Thursday Novel! Yes, the bracelet was a hidden plot device all along. Its alright, I didn't know for a while either. Jasper Ffordes? Nice name… That's the author of the series I mentioned above isn't it?

The Mysterious M- possibly your longest review yet. (That was sarcastic in case others reading this don't pick it up.) But the right choice of words I think, which is why you get an AWARD for having the SHORTEST REVIEW EVER! I take credit for that idea. In case anyone else is reading this, please do NOT aim to earn this award. Try and beat Angel's award instead… Not to malign Meara at all, though; really, we love you. So much love, so grateful for your wonderful reviews.

Angelface04- and now the Longest Ever Review Award. CONGRADULATIONS! Presented to you as a color-changing wig, whose default color is tawny. That is snazzy. HECK YES you were right, and I hope you enjoyed reading about Base as much as I enjoyed writing about her. It was a brilliant experience, and I had fun trying to work in every detail about her, even though I probably didn't need to. I didn't change a bit of that scene, it was brilliant, character and writing. Yes, fear the pink furry 'scard'. What is up with you and pointing out typos today? Stephanie's idiocy shall soon appear in gargantuan proportions. I'll take that as my newest task. And we all know Angelina is very, blunt. If that makes sense. I dunno. I just like the phrase. But yes, more to come. For entertainment purposes only. Yeah, Tev and I had it probably a bit easy with co-writing as different characters, which is why we got a little confused at first with our other story and just decided to alternate there. That sentence made no sense whatsoever. Unless you were referring to FF, but that still doesn't make sense since I wrote it and you editing it, and now I am just plain confused. Trainers are in fact sneakers, and sadly enough Stephanie's pink ones match her oh-so-blonde hair. This is the part where I am happy to say I'm a brunette. The scarf's purpose we have yet to fathom. It will be brilliant when we do though. Ang and Andrew see each other often enough, like in the evenings, in between classes, and during, if they have any together. So yes, in answer to your question, they talk more than it seems and we just didn't have time to squeeze it into the chapter.

Never apologize for a long review. Ever. In fact, write another one.