Title: Fireworks
Author: Emmylou
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters and concepts, are the creation of JK Rowling.
Rating: PG
Summary: Angelina and Fred's relationship is tested when they travel to Egypt on business for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
A/N: Well, here we are folks, the end! It's taken twelve lunch hours and countless time at home, but we're done. I'd like to thank every single one of my reviewers, especially the ones that reviewed more than once, put me on their favourites or alerts, or added me to C2 communities. You all made me squee madly.
ooo
Mr. Donkor was quiet for a moment and Angelina thought he might not answer. Then he sighed.
"I started The Granddaughter six years ago. Pili was such a wonderful flier and so very keen. I gave her my old broom to use and soon we were the talk of Egypt. It was a welcome distraction after years of being cooped up in that room. Then the government got involved – crowd control, Anti-Muggle spells, the news…within six months it was run for us. We collected meagre fees for our roles but no more."
"I don't even want to be the Granddaughter any more!" said Pili hotly, teaks still trickling down her face. "I don't want to race – I want to be a Seeker, and I don't want to fly your broom – I want one of my own!"
Mr. Donkor sighed again. "As you can see, Pili has tired of her role in recent months."
"Never mind this!" snapped Donkor. "What about business?"
"I say that Weezley goes back to England and sticks a firework right up Zonko's-" began one of the brothers before Mrs. Donkor could shriek in distaste.
"Whatever we do to Zonko, we have no money for new products!" wailed Donkor. Donkor sent a nasty look in Fred's direction.
"Look," said Fred desperately. "There's just a line I won't cross and this is it. I won't give you those winnings."
"It is thanks to my father you even have that money!" snarled Donkor.
His father whacked his son's knuckles with his wand. "It is thanks to your terrible business sense he needs to give us anything at all!"
The conversation was soon reduced to squabbling- Donkor, his father, and Fred over the business, the brothers over their various lost bets, Mrs. Donkor nagging her daughter, and Pili still complaining about The Granddaughter.
It was oppressively hot in the room and still uncomfortably crampt. Angelina excused herself to go and check on the travel news.
ooo
Fred was in their room when she returned from her walk. They would be leaving in thirty minutes and Fred was tipping the few parts of his wash-kit that had survived the theft back into his trunk. He had a grim, defeated expression.
It seemed a terribly wet ending. Fred had failed, the Donkor family was ruined, Pili was doing a job she hated, and she, Angelina, was about to become a Cauldron Rep.
"Hey Fred," she said meekly. She tiptoed into the room. There was an occasional shout from downstairs as twenty years of old beefs and arguments were thrust onto the table.
"Hi Angelina, are you ready to go?"
"Been ready for a week."
They stood silently.
"I'm sorry about the whole trip," said Fred with a whooshing breath.
"I really didn't want it to end like this for anyone," said Angelina. She hefted the bag she was carrying and passed it to Fred. "Here are your winnings."
Fred held the bag silently for a moment before a look of confusion crossed his face. "But I already packed the winnings…"
He opened the bag. Gold glittered up at him.
Angelina reached over and kissed him softly. "I didn't say they were the winnings from The Granddaughter," she murmured. "They are your winnings for keeping your promise and not giving the gold away."
Fred gaped. "But where did you get it?" he breathed.
Angelina shrugged modestly. "I sold my broom. That makes really rare over here. And it won The Granddaughter twice. I won't need my broom back home. The auction got quite – uh –heated. I got enough to make ten fireworks and maybe get us a Jacuzzi for our holiday home."
"Jacuzzi?" repeated Fred absently.
Angelina sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Merlin knows we'll get no sense out you at this rate. Go downstairs and build your silly fireworks."
Fred swallowed hard, nodded, and dashed towards the door. He was halfway down the corridor before he remembered to rush back and kiss her.
ooo
There was a big celebration that night. Angelina had graciously put off her trip home until her originally planned two weeks were over.
Fred had finally pressed Mrs. Donkor to cook some food that was slightly Egyptian and the talk was loud and happy as Fred and Angelina finally got to eat something with spices in.
After much squabbling, the family had resolved to keep the knowledge of The Granddaughter a secret and the brothers had been banned from making any bets as to the identity.
Mr. Donkor, pleased to be no longer considered an invalid, had taken the reigns of his business once more and Donkor himself seemed pleased to once again be making the fireworks themselves rather than running things. There had been several calls by Floo to George and production of the first Weasley-Donkor firework would be in production in less than a week.
Mrs. Donkor had steered everyone into the parlour and some rather drunken dancing was occurring (as much as one could dance in the parlour, as it was even smaller than the hall).
"Can I have a word with you, Johnson?" asked Mr. Donkor while Fred tried to twirl Pili without crashing her into the couch.
He steered her out into the hall and looked at her severely. "Pili hates The Granddaughter," he said. "She begs be every time to stop. I have been thinking of a way to free her for some time."
"Oh," said Angelina.
"I have decided to make The Granddaughter into a title that is handed down," he said. "That way a blood relation need not be forced to play."
"Really?" said Angelina, feeling faint. She had an inkling of what he was going to say…
"I invite you to take on the title of The Granddaughter," said Mr. Donkor.
Angelina clutched the hat stand for support. "Me?" she said weekly. "I-I'd be the star of the show?"
"Your flying is wonderful and you please the crowds. I can think of no one better," said Mr. Donkor.
"You don't have to divulge the secret either," said Angelina. "As far as anyone knows outside this house, nothing has changed."
Mr. Donkor nodded. "That is another reason."
Angelina nodded, her smile so huge that it almost hurt. "I'd love to!"
Back in the parlour Fred had tired of the dancing and was sitting playing Exploding Snap with one of the brothers while laughing at Donkor (who seemed to have gone to the school of Dad Dancing) twirling his wife around the room.
"I'd ask you, but with us dancing we'd break the room up!" he said.
Angelina pulled him away from his game and quickly told Fred what had passed in the hall. Fred looked up to where Mr. Donkor had invited Pili to dance, clearly to tell her the happy news.
"I was thinking," she said, "doesn't Lee have some jobs going at the broomstick design company now? Pili told me – she wanted a broom by her own hand or none. This seems like a perfect opportunity for her."
Fred grinned. "I'll send the owl tonight, but…where would she live in England?"
Angelina kept her eyes fixed on the Exploding Snap game. "Well, there's always the pad. It…it wouldn't make much sense us living in England and working in Egypt."
Fred grabbed her hand. "So…we'd buy a regular home instead of a holiday one then?" he said.
Angelina looked at him, testing out this new theory in her mind. "What about you and George?"
Fred grinned. "I heard somewhere that if we get a dual citizenship we'll be able to Apparate from Egypt to England as easy as if we were nipping around the corner. I'd be able to see George and the business any time I liked."
Angelina didn't take her eyes off his. "I could live with that," she said.
Fred grinned, one of his face splitting, totally joyous grins. He stood up and tugged her up with him.
"Knick-knacks be damned," he said. "We're having a dance."
ooo
Six months later;
Pili checked the slip of paper in her hands and looked up at the sign in front of her. She had not expected this at all – it was almost laughable that a dilapidated little shop like this had destroyed her father's business and damaged Weezley's.
Zonko's new shop was no more than a dingy workroom – nothing at all like the fine shop that belonged to Fred and George! Clearly the father and son team had yet to put their Destroy Weasley plan into action.
She rang the bell and waited patiently for someone to answer. She briefly thought of her plans for tonight, Lee was cooking her dinner and taking her to a Cannons game. She liked the Cannons; they made her laugh with their silly flying. Lee liked her a lot and said one day he'd like to marry her. He liked the work she did too, her first design was going to be made into a real broomstick, and she would be free to have one of the first off the production line. England, she thought, really suited her.
The door creaked open and a young man with a sour expression appeared. He was about eighteen and very familiar, although the tea-towel that usually resided on his head was gone. His eyes were blue and perfectly able to see.
He froze as he recognised her – then he leant backwards as she shoved her wand to his throat.
She hefted a large, painful looking firework up to his line of sight.
"I'm here to deliver this as a personal message from Fred and George Weezley!"
ooo
The End
A/N: Well, it was a long journey, but we made it. I would love to hear any thoughts you have on my fic. Remember – less than 1 of readers review – let's change that statistic, shall we? I'm not begging. Honestly!
Seriously, I really enjoyed writing this. Thank you very much for taking the time to read.