A/N: Not mine. All JKR's. Thank the heavens for her imagination.
As Oliver walked towards the twins shop, his step was lighter than it had been in a long time. Lunch with Hermione was invigorating to his spirit. His daily routine had become a bit mundane as of late. Seeing her again had punched a hole in it, but not in a bad way. He found himself thinking about her eyes when she had first touched the book he had brought. The sparkle of anticipation and thrill of discovery was almost tangible. Her passionate nature had not diminished over the past decade, and he was glad for that. Knowing some of what she went through in the final battle with Voldemort, through others relaying the events, he admired that she kept hold of what mattered to her. So many people had returned from battles scarred and unable to function other than to just exist daily. To see Hermione's excitement and listen to her talk about her work was fascinating to him. 'Imagine,' he thought. 'An obsessive like me admiring that quality in someone else.' He was aware of what others thought of his almost singular focus on his profession. Only those who were in Quidditch leagues or had played the game, could relate, and not even then, sometimes. Take the twins, for instance.
Fred and George had been some of the best Beaters he had ever known. Their abilities stretched far beyond the pranks and humor they displayed on a regular basis. While they were on the pitch, they played hard. Off of it, they played even harder. Oliver had a hard time reconciling that when he was in school. He had often thought back then if they had dedicated as much to Quidditch as they did to their pranks, they would have been unbeatable every year. Now, he saw what they had known way back then. Their passion for humor and pranking was what drove them and made them the players they were. Knocking a Slytherin off their broom was, in itself, humorous. That was why they did it.
He found himself in front of their store with its bright displays and colorful flyers. The twins had really found their niche. The business had been growing strong ever since its inception. A short lull had occurred during the war, for obvious reasons. The owners were part of the Order of the Phoenix, which no one had known back then. Their absence had been attributed to several different things; anything from attacks of Death Eaters to rivals in the business. None of that was true, obviously, but once they had returned, the business boomed even more so. Now, they were the premier joke/candy establishment in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade.
Oliver pushed his way into the busy store, filled to the brim with young children. Seeing as Hogwarts was just about finished with the final term, all of the children now milling about were under first years. Several parents were trying to hurry their broods along and the noise was almost too much. Two young boys, looking to be around 10 years old, with slightly reddish blonde hair were off to the side looking at the Skiving Snackboxes, trying to avoid their mother's observation, as she was busy corralling a young girl with straight blonde hair, who was straining to look at the Pygmy Puffs. They pooled their change and were about to make a purchase from the oblivious assistant, when Oliver placed his hands on their shoulders.
"Now boys, you know that your mother would have a conniption if you actually purchased those items," he uttered in a menacing tone.
The two boys froze and slowly glanced up at the man who was speaking to them. The assistant blinked at Oliver and hurried off to help another customer. Oliver looked down at the twin innocent facades and stifled a chuckle. 'Weasley genes rule the roost it would seem,' he thought to himself, as the two boys tried to return the items without being seen by their mother, who made her way over to them with a very disgruntled young lady in tow.
"Boys, I zware, if you try to purceez anuzzer ting, I will tell zor fazzer and let heem deal with you!" their mother exclaimed. Her accent always showed itself when she was flustered or angry.
Oliver schooled his face to show nothing but indifference as he looked at Fleur Weasley. Her veela blood, although only partial on her grandmother's side, was effective no more so then when her emotions were high. Luckily, Oliver had some experience dealing with it from visiting with the family for so many years.
"Good day to you, Madam Weasley," Oliver offered in his most controlled voice.
Fleur looked up at him as she finished glaring at her offspring. "Good day to you, Meester Wood. How are you?"
"Well, thank you. These little scamps are a handful, are they not?"
"You don't know ze half of it," she uttered vehemently. "Nowadays, I have complete sympathy for Molly. Theez two take too much after zere uncles!"
"Well, try to not to be too tough on the poor wee mites," his accent coming out as well. "Molly may seem fearsome, but she was only worried about keeping the twins safe, at least most days," Oliver chuckled.
"True, true," Fleur said. "We must be off, as our zhopping seems to be fini for today," which was met with groans all around.
Oliver covered the grin that materialized on his face away with a cough and said, "Well, you have a pleasant afternoon then. Give Bill my best," as he bowed gallantly. Fleur nodded and the family walked out the door amid pleas for a stop at Fortescue's and Oliver was certain that the ice cream shop would be a detour on the way home. Oliver shook his head and made his way to the back of the store.
"Oi, Wood! Been expecting you for almost an hour," George exclaimed as he was ringing up customers.
"Sorry about that, George. My appointment took a bit longer than anticipated. So, where are the new inventions?" he asked.
"In the back. You know the way, of course," Fred said as he came from the aforementioned area with some boxes teetering on top of each other, threatening to fall at any moment.
"Need any help there, Fred?" Oliver asked, just waiting for the boxes to tumble.
"Nah, got it well in hand. Just go on back, we will be finished up here in a few."
Oliver nodded and proceeded to the back room, where several tables were set up with potions and experiments. The bubbling cauldrons reminded Oliver of Snape's classroom and caused him to shudder. 'Bad memories there,' he reminded himself. He busied himself clearing off a bench next to a table where a cauldron was bubbling away, steam rising in spirals. This potion that smelled suspiciously like broom polishing oil, the Highlands of his home, Scotland, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on had a shiny opal sheen to it. It was familiar yet distinct. 'Hm, I wonder what that is,' he thought to himself, as he relaxed on the bench. (A/N: Can you guess?)
"I still think you should put the more dangerous items up higher, guys. Small ones could get hurt if they aren't being watched closely," a distinctly female voice called out. A girl with a head of dark red hair curled up near the middle of her shoulders and deep green eyes came through the doorway and with her eyes glued on a drawer in a cabinet near the back wall, she never noticed Oliver sitting there, observing quietly. Her hand reached up and tugged the drawer open and just as she reached in, a loud voice was heard.
"Chelsea Lily Potter! If you don't put that back, there will be no TV for a week," as Ginny walked through the doorway. Chelsea dropped what she had in her hand, and pushed the drawer closed. No TV meant no Quidditch matches.
"But, Mummy, they are only Acid Pops," she pleaded with big tears threatening to fall.
"I will not have you ruining your dinner, young lady. Now say hello to the nice gentleman you have intruded upon," Ginny reprimanded.
Oliver's eyebrow raised as he was addressed the very pregnant and very beautiful Ginny Potter. "Nice gentleman, eh?"
"Hello, sir. My name is Chelsea Potter. Pleased to make your acquaintance," Chelsea said as she did a slight bob with her hands out at her sides.
Oliver almost burst out laughing right there. Ginny's eyes shone with the same laughter.
"Very pleased to meet you, Miss Potter. My name is-" Oliver began.
"Oliver Wood, Captain and Keeper for the Puddlemere United for the past 10 years, Reserve Keeper for two years before that, and Captain/Keeper for Gryffindor the three years preceding. You also won the Quidditch Cup in your 7th year at Hogwarts and were reputed to be the strictest Captain ever to grace Hogwarts halls," Chelsea finished with an air of authority.
"CHELSEA!" Ginny exclaimed, a bright red flush creeping up her face.
Oliver laughed out loud this time. "It is ok, Ginny. I have been aware of my less than sterling reputation for sometime in regards to my career at Hogwarts."
Ginny apologized just the same. "I am so sorry, Oliver. I don't know where she learned to speak that way. The only other person I know who talks like that is her godmother and she seldom visits. I almost wonder if they don't have some little secret society behind my back, some days," Ginny sighed, wrinkling her nose at her daughter.
"Who is her godmother?" Oliver asked, although he had a suspicion he already knew.
"Why, Hermione Granger, of course," Fred offered, as he and George came into the back room. "Little Chelsea is the smaller version of our favorite know-it-all."
"I see," Oliver said as his suspicion was confirmed.
"Yup, poor little Ginny here is stuck having a know-it-all as a best friend and living in the same house, all at once," George said as he lifted his niece into the air and swung her around like an airplane.
Oliver kind of nodded and thought they were being too hard on poor Hermione. 'Now, where did that come from,' he asked himself. It was common knowledge that Hermione was a know-it-all, always ready with the answer in school and in life. He would have to examine that more at a later time.
"So, Oliver. What took you so long this afternoon?" Fred asked as he slipped Chelsea a couple Acid Pops while Ginny was trying to find a way to sit down on the bench next to Oliver.
Oliver held his arm out to her so she could balance and settle herself as gracefully as possible in her state of pregnancy. She smiled her thanks and motioned for Chelsea to come sit with her.
Oliver looked back at George and Fred and said simply, "Meeting ran longer than I thought it would. It will be interesting to see where it leads over the next couple weeks," he stated, thinking more of Hermione than the mystery of the book. His eyes had darkened and Fred and George looked at one another with a grin. They had seen that look before. Oliver had met a girl. It was time for Operation Bird Watch. This simply meant that they wouldn't rest until they knew who she was, how they met, and if she was suitable for their best bud. Fred and George had witnessed first hand the last few times Oliver had been burned and they were not anxious to see it again. For the past few years, he had practically sworn off women in general. Simply was too much bother, Oliver told the twins several times.
Fred cleared his throat and Oliver's eyes swung back into focus. "So, you want to check out these new products we invented or what?"
"Ugh, guys. Chelsea and I are gonna make ourselves scarce. The last time you came up with new products, I had to practically soak her in a bath for 3 hours to remove all the spots," Ginny said hotly.
"Hey! We can't help it if our favorite test subject wanted to try our new Dotty Drink without permission. Kids will be kids, you know, Ginevra dear," George said, batting his eyes at his only sister.
"Don't give me that look, mister. You are just lucky I didn't tell Mum about it," Ginny said as she tried to stand back up, only succeeding with Oliver's arm yet again.
"She's right, George. Can you imagine the two of them in stereo?" Fred said with a look of horror on his face.
Ginny stuck out her tongue at her brothers and then proceeded to hug and kiss them on her way out. "It was very nice to see you again, Oliver. Don't be a stranger, okay?"
"I will try not to, Gin. Tell Harry hello from me. And it was a singular pleasure to meet you, my dear Miss Chelsea," he said as he took her hand and kissed it, just as he had with Hermione earlier.
Chelsea's eyes got wide and she exhibited another Weasley trait, the red flush on the cheeks. "T-t-thank you, Mr. Wood." Chelsea followed her mother out into the shop front, looking back at Oliver one more time.
"Oh boy, that one will be a handful in another 10 years. Thank goodness she has plenty of cousins to look out for her," Fred and George said at the same time.
"Now, on with the show."
Oliver spent another hour looking over the twins' experiments and giving a few ideas as to names and selling points of each. He especially liked the Sneezing Snitch, which once eaten, would cause the victim to start sneezing uncontrollably. It would be good for getting out of classes, similar to their earlier successes, the Skiving Snackboxes. An antidote had yet to be concocted, Fred had informed him, but no products would be sold until they could make sure it wasn't extremely long lasting.
Once they were finished, the twins offered Oliver a butterbeer and they proceeded to grill him over the new development they suspected in his life.
"So, Oliver, your meeting went well today then?" Fred asked.
Oliver looked at him with a knowing glare. "Yes, Fred, it was fine."
"What was it about again?" George fired off.
"A book I have acquired recently on a trip. I wanted to get it authenticated," Oliver answered plainly, taking a relaxed swig of his butterbeer.
"Uh huh. And where did you go to get that done?" Fred grilled.
"Flourish & Blott's, of course," Oliver said.
"Hmm, they have a way to authenticate books, do they?" George said mysteriously.
"Come, come, gentlemen. You know, you are getting very bad at this," Oliver observed with a twinkle in his eye. "I can remember when you were able to get people to admit anything you wanted without being so blatantly obvious about it."
"Aw, c'mon, Ollie. Who is she?" Fred pleaded. "We know there is someone, we can tell."
"Hmm, well, we don't know that for certain yet, my dear brother," George stated.
Oliver and Fred both looked at him with questions in their eyes.
"Dear ole Ollie could have been just speaking with Mr. Dearborn, the manager there. He is the one who would know rare books and the like," George continued.
"And just how do you know that, my mirror image?" Fred asked incredulously.
"Because remember that book that we 'found' at Great Aunt Lulu's a couple years ago? I took it to Mr. Dearborn, and he said that it was a forgery, but a very good one. Offered me several Galleons for it, but I turned him down and returned it," George said.
"But George, did you realize all that was contained in that book?" Fred asked with a horrified expression on his face.
"Yes I did. But the sheer volume of Mum's voice if she ever realized we nicked that book would have been heard by dear old Voldie himself in hell. I wasn't about to risk it. So, I returned it and no one has ever been the wiser."
"I'm impressed, George. I would've thought a book on how to create miniature dragons disguised as candy would be right up your alley," Oliver stated after he finished his butterbeer and set the bottle on the bench with a distracted attitude.
"How did you know about that?" Now it was George's turn to be incredulous.
"Mr. Dearborn knew that I knew you both, and wondered if I would put in a good word for him as far as to your selling that book. I told him I would never endorse a colleague unless I knew the motivation behind it. He relayed some of what the book contained and I knew it was a no-go. Your mother would have skinned us all alive," Oliver said with a shudder. Molly Weasley's temper with her twin boys was almost legendary, at least among their friends.
"You never said a word. That is so unlike you, Oliver. That is more like something we would do," Fred said, a wide grin making its way onto his face. "Now I am impressed."
They all laughed. Oliver rose and shook hands with Fred. "Thank you, guys. I really enjoyed being here this afternoon. I have to head out, have a late meeting with the manager of the team." He moved over to George.
George shook Oliver's hand while Fred mouthed the words "INVITE HIM TO THE BURROW!" behind Oliver's back. "Hey Ollie," George blurted as Oliver was about to go through the back door.
Oliver turned around. He had almost got out before they got too much information. "Yes?" he said warily.
"Listen, not this Sunday, but next, Mum's having a big ole picnic at the house. She says that the warmer weather will be here by then, and she is usually right. You fancy heading over for a good old fashioned home cooked meal?" George asked.
"I could never say no to your mother's cooking, guys. I will try to be there. I know we get back from our match in Ireland late Friday evening. Have to talk to the coach to see about practice schedules and such. Can I let you know for certain later?" Oliver asked, hoping to get out of there before they caught on to his diversionary tactics.
"Sure," Fred replied. "We will tell Mum to expect you, but you know her, she always makes more than enough anyway. Sound good?"
"Sounds good. Later, guys," Oliver said as he made his way to the alley behind their building. He turned on his heel and left with a pop.
"How could you just let him leave like that?" Fred yelled as he glared at the back door. We got nothing from that little interrogation. ARRGH! I was about to slip some Veritaserum in his butterbeer, let me tell you," Fred ranted while he paced around the back room. His twin just sat on a bench and looked intently at his nails. Fred stopped his pacing. "What is wrong with you, George?"
"Nothing. I just happened to get quite a bit out of it, is all."
"You did? What did you get? Huh? What?" Fred bounced like a kid on Christmas morning.
"I got the identity of our mystery lady."
"HOW?" Fred yelled.
"By knowing that for the last year or so, Mr. Dearborn is no longer working in the authentication department at F & B," George said calmly, still looking at his nails. He reached up to buff them on his shirt.
"George, you are really starting to get on my last nerve," Fred threatened.
"Calm down."
"Georgeā¦"
"Okay, I will say this. The authentication department is now being helmed by none other than our favorite know-it-all," George said with a definite waggle to his eyebrows
Fred grinned like it was he had just won the lottery, and it was Christmas and his birthday all in one day.
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A/N: I had originally planned on putting several days together in this chapter, but having fun with the twins is addictive. It just won't stop coming. LOL Please read AND review. I am so pleased that many are reading my fledging attempt at writing. It feeds my perfectionist soul, but I find myself wondering why no one is reviewing. Ah well, I will ask a question and then we will see what happens. When do you think they should have their first kiss? Next chapter? Later? Wait til the end? (GASP!) Let me know. Thank you again for reading, please review.
