Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

'Did he eat it?' Fred said excitedly.

'Yeah,' said Harry, straightening up. 'What was it?'

'Ton-Tongue Toffee,' Fred said brightly. 'George and I invented them. 'We've been looking for someone to test them all summer…'

The rest of the Weasleys burst into laughter.

'You invented something?' Sherlock asked Fred, while Bill and Charlie introduced themselves to Harry.

'Yeah, look.' Fred pulled out a sweet in brightly coloured wrapping 'It's infused with an Engorgement Charm, so it'll make the tongue grow. We don't know exactly how long it'll get though.'

'Really? That's ingenious,' said Sherlock.

'You think so?' said Fred, looking quite surprised.

'Definitely.'

Suddenly there was a faint popping sound and Mr Weasley appeared in the kitchen. Fred quickly shoved the sweet out of sight.

'That wasn't funny, Fred!' Mr Weasley shouted. 'What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?'

Castiel hunched over his glass of water at one end of the table.

'I didn't give him anything,' said Fred. 'I just dropped it… it was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to.'

'You dropped it on purpose!' roared Mr Weasley. 'You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet-'

'How big did his tongue get?' George asked eagerly.

'It was four foot long before his parents would let me shrink it!'

Harry and the Weasleys laughed again, and this time Dean did not supress his snigger

'It isn't funny!' Mr Weasley shouted again. 'That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons-'

'We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!' Fred said indignantly.

'We gave it to him because he's a great, bullying git,' said George, 'isn't he, Harry?'

'Yeah, he is, Mr Weasley,' Harry said earnestly

'That's not the point!' raged Mr Weasley. 'You wait till I tell your mother-'

'Tell me what?' said Mrs Weasley, who had just entered the kitchen, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 'Oh, hello, Harry dear,' she said, spotting him. 'Tell me what, Arthur?'

Mr Weasley hesitated. As angry as he was with Fred and George, he hadn't truly intended to tell Mrs Weasley what had happened. There was silence while Mr Weasley eyed his wife nervously.

'Tell me what, Arthur?' she repeated.

'It's nothing, Molly,' mumbled Mr Weasley, 'Fred and George just- but I've had words with them-'

'What have they done this time?' said Mrs Weasley. 'If it's got anything to do with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes-'

'Why don't we show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron,' Hermione said hurriedly.

'He knows where he's sleeping,' said Ron. 'In my room, he slept there last-'

'We can all go,' Dean said pointedly. 'We can see the rest of the house.'

'Oh,' said Ron, cottoning on. 'Right.'

'Yeah, we'll come too' said George.

'You stay where you are!' snarled Mrs Weasley.

Hermione lead the way out of the kitchen, followed by the seven other boys that weren't in trouble with Mrs Weasley. Ginny joined them as they climbed the rickety staircase.

'What are Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?' Harry asked.

Ron and Ginny both laughed.

'Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room,' Ron said quietly. 'Price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that…'

'We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things,' said Ginny. 'We just thought they liked the noise.'

'Oh yeah, they're pretty serious about it,' said Dean. 'They tested some stuff on me last year.'

'Like what?' Sam said curiously.

'That's not important,' Dean said quickly.

'Thing is, most of the stuff – well, all of it, really – was a bit dangerous,' Ron continued, 'and they were planning on selling it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burnt all the order forms… she's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O. as she expected.'

'And then there was a big row,' said Ginny, 'because Mum wants them to join the Ministry like Dad, but they just want to open a joke shop.'

Just then, a door on the second landing, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.

'Hi, Percy,' said Harry.

'Oh, hello,' he said, looking at them all disapprovingly. 'I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work here, you know – I've got a report to finish for the office – and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs.'

'We're not thundering,' Ron said irritably. 'We're walking. Sorry if we disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic.'

'What are you working on?' Harry asked.

'A report for the Department of International Magical Co-operation,' Percy said smugly. 'We're trying to standardise cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin – leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year.'

'I'd be very interested to read that,' said Castiel. 'Could you send me a copy when it's finished?'

'I – yes, certainly,' said Percy, perplexed by his interest.

'That'll change the world, that will,' Ron said. 'Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks.'

Percy went slightly pink. 'You might sneer, Ron,' he said heatedly, 'but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might very well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow bottomed products, which seriously endanger-'

'Yeah, yeah, all right,' said Ron, starting up the stairs again.

Percy slammed his bedroom door shut.

'That was rude, Ron,' Cas frowned.

'Oh, come on, it's all a load of rubbish, what do you care?'

Cas looked down and John and Dean caught each other's eye. Both were aware of the circumstances of his mother's death.

As they climbed three more flights of stairs, shouts from the kitchen echoed up to them and Cas shuddered. It sounded as though Mr Weasley had told Mrs Weasley about the toffees.

Ron slept in the room all the way at the top of the stairs, and it was covered in posters of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch Team. There was a fish tank in the window-sill that contained a large frog, and the tiny, grey owl that Sirius had given him was hopping around inside his cage, hooting madly.

'Shut up, Pig,' said Ron, edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into the room. 'John and Sherlock, you're in here with us,' Ron told them. 'And I think Sam, Dean and Cas are downstairs with either Fred and George, or Bill and Charlie. I can't remember which. Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work.'

'Er- why are you calling that owl Pig?' Harry asked Ron, as everyone squeezed into Ron's room.

'Because he's being stupid,' said Ginny. 'His proper name is Pigwidgeon.'

'Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all,' Ron said. 'Ginny named him,' he explained. 'She reckons it's sweet. I tried to change it, but it's too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me, too, come to think of it.'

Pigwidgeon continued to zoom around his cage, hooting shrilly.

'Where's Crookshanks?' John asked Hermione.

'In the garden, I expect,' she said. 'He likes chasing the gnomes, he's never seen any before.'

'Percy's enjoying work, then?' said Harry, watching the Chudley Cannons flying in and out of their posters.

'Enjoying it?' said Ron. 'I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him started on his boss. According to Mr Crouch… as I was saying to Mr Crouch… Mr Crouch is of the opinion… Mr Crouch was telling me… They'll be announcing their engagement any day now.'

'How was everyone's summer?' Hermione asked.

'It was all right,' John shrugged. He considered telling them about the vision he'd had of Voldemort, but a slight shake of the head from Sherlock changed his mind. 'I think we were both just waiting for it to be over. My family already have a difficult enough time accepting that I'm a wizard. Trying to explain being a Seer is pretty much impossible.'

'I was bored,' said Sherlock.

'That's hardly news,' John smirked.

'Harry, have you heard from-' Ron began. He had been about to ask Harry about Sirius, but stopped as he remembered Ginny was in the room.

'I think they've stopped arguing,' Hermione said hurriedly to cover up the awkward silence, as Ginny was looking curiously from Harry to Ron. 'Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?'

'Yeah, all right.'

They all went back down to a very ill-tempered Mrs Weasley.

'We're eating out in the garden,' she told them. 'There just isn't room for so many people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks please, you two,' she said to Harry and Ron, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she'd intended. The potatoes in the sink shot out of their skins so fast, they ricocheted off the walls.

'Oh, for heaven's sake,' she snapped, now directing her wand at a dustpan, which hopped off the counter and started scooping potatoes up. 'Those two!' She burst out savagely, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard. 'I don't know what's going to happen, I really don't. No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as possible…' She slammed a large copper saucepan down on the kitchen table and waving her wand around inside it. A creamy sauce poured from her wand tip as she stirred. 'It's not as though they don't have brains,' she continued irritably, taking the saucepan over to the stove and lighting it with another poke of her wand, 'but they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble. If they carry on the way they are, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office.'

'I've not ended up there yet, and I'm sure I've done far worse things than they have,' Sherlock said.

John elbowed him to let him know that he wasn't helping. 'Everything gets invented somehow, Mrs Weasley,' John said gently. 'You never know, they could be on to something.'

'I don't know,' she said, pursing her lips and putting down her wand to pull out more saucepans. 'It's always been the same with them, one thing after another, and they won't listen to- OH NOT AGAIN!'

She had picked up her wand from the table, and it emitted a loud squeak and turned into a large rubber mouse. 'One of their fake wands again!' she shouted. 'How many times have I told them not to leave those lying around!'

The sauce on the stove started smoking, and Dean jumped forward to stir it. 'Why don't you let us help you, Mrs Weasley?' he said. 'Sam, come chop these carrots.'

'You don't have to do that,' Mrs Weasley said, bemused.

'It's the least we can do. Here, if you take over this sauce, then I can prep that chicken, and these guys can help outside,' he said pointedly.

'Right, yeah,' said Ron. He and the others grabbed as much cutlery as they could hold and took it outside.

'We're not chefs, but we are excellent assistants, right, Sam?' said Dean, giving Mrs Weasley a dazzling smile.

'Yeah, absolutely,' said Sam, moving on to his second carrot.

Outside, John was immediately pulled away by Fred and George.

'So, John, you're a Seer, right?' said Fred.

'Yeah, why?'

'We were wondering if you know who wins the World Cup,' said George.

John hesitated. 'I do. Why do you want to know?'

'No reason,' said Fred airily.

John sighed, then he was suddenly walking around a brightly coloured room that was packed with people, including Fred and George in bright green dragonskin jackets. Then he was back, with Fred and George holding him up by his elbows. 'Sorry, sorry,' he mumbled, regaining his footing. He looked at their concerned faces for a moment, then said, 'Give me something to write on.'

They both hurriedly dug through their pockets, one giving him a quill and ink, the other a giving him a scrap of parchment.

John wrote the results of the match down and handed it do Fred. 'Do not tell your mum I gave you this.'

'We would never,' George grinned, and the two of them ran off to their room, presumably to stash the parchment somewhere.

John took a deep breath, grounding himself in the present, and turned at the sound of clattering behind him.

Bill and Charlie were making a couple of tables fly, smashing them into each other and trying to knock each other's out of the air. Bill's table had caught Charlie's and knocked one of its legs off.

Then Percy stuck his head out of his bedroom window. 'Will you keep it down?' he bellowed.

'Sorry, Perce,' said Bill, grinning. 'How're the cauldron bottoms coming?'

'Very badly,' said Percy, slamming the window shut.

Chuckling, John went over to Sherlock, who was standing by Castiel, smiling in the sunshine.

'Are you all right?' Sherlock asked.

'Yeah, fine. It wasn't a bad one. I wish they weren't so random, though.'

'Me too. Do you need anything? Water?'

'No, I'll be all right, thanks,' he smiled. He caught Sherlock's intense expression and cleared his throat. 'We ought to work out how to… how to control it… better,' he said, trailing off as his stomach fluttered.

By seven o'clock, the tables were groaning under the weight of all the food. At the far end, Percy was telling Mr Weasley about his cauldron report. Castiel sat next to him, listening intently, and John sat opposite, trying very hard not to.

'I've told Mr Crouch I'll have it done by Tuesday,' Percy said pompously. 'That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time. I mean, it is extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman-'

'I like Ludo,' Mr Weasley said mildly. 'He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favour. His brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble – a lawn mower with unnatural powers. I smoothed the whole thing over.'

'Oh, Bagman's likeable enough, of course,' said Percy dismissively, 'but how he ever got to be Head of Department… when I compare him to Mr Crouch! I can't see Mr Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realise Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?'

The name Bertha Jorkins echoed around John's head and his chest suddenly constricted, leaving him quite short of breath. Then all the talking around the table was blocked out by a terrible screaming in his ears. He dropped his fork and everyone turned to look at him.

'John, are you all right, dear?' Mrs Weasley asked concernedly.

'He can't hear you,' Sherlock said as John put his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut.

'Oh, is he having a vision right now?' Sam said curiously.

'It appears so,' said Sherlock. He could hear the screaming distantly and tried to keep his face impassive. 'I need water…' He was passed a jug and goblet. 'I think he might prefer it if you weren't all staring at him when he comes out of it.'

There were sounds of agreement from around the table and they all went back to their conversations, though now with a few sidelong glances at John.

Soon, Sherlock could tell that the vision was releasing its grip on John when it became easier to breathe, for himself as well as John.

John lowered his hands and took a shaky breath.

'You're at The Burrow with the Weasleys,' Sherlock murmured, handing him some water. 'It's August, nineteen ninety-four.'

'Thank you,' John mumbled back.

'A bad one?'

'Yeah, it was. Nothing we didn't already know, though.' John swallowed some water. 'I'd rather not talk about it right now.'

'That's fine.'

They sat quietly together, listening to the other conversations.

'So, have you heard from Sirius,' Ron was saying very quietly to Harry.

'Yeah,' Harry said softly, 'twice. He sounds okay. I wrote to him a couple of days ago, so he might write back while I'm here.'

Meanwhile, Hermione and Castiel were talking.

'You've hardly eaten anything,' Hermione was saying. 'At least have some of this ice-cream.'

'I told you, I'm not hungry,' Cas said with an irritated expression. 'Please stop worrying.'

John leaned back in his chair, no longer hungry himself, but happy to listen to the buzz of conversation around him.

'Look at the time,' Mrs Weasley said eventually, checking her watch. 'The whole lot of you should be in bed. You'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Whoever doesn't already have their school things, leave your lists out and I'll go to Diagon Alley. There might not be time after the Cup. The match went on for five days last time.'

'Wow – hope it does this time,' Harry said enthusiastically

'Well, I certainly don't,' Percy said sanctimoniously. 'I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away for five days.'

'Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?' said Fred.

'That was a sample of fertiliser from Norway!' said Percy, going very red in the face. 'It was nothing personal!'

'It was,' Fred whispered as they got up from the table. 'We sent it.'

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to Sherlock Harry Winchester, DaughterofMagic3, Guest, IpiuGate and RHatch89 for the lovely reviews! I hope you're all enjoying it so far and I'll see you next time!