Chapter 35 – The Festivities Commence
A mouse crawled slowly along the skirting board of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Sniffing curiously at every knot and nail in the woodwork, and presumably looking for either food or an escape route to some more interesting scenery, this was an animal who seemed very intent on being on the move. What was most notable about the animal was that it had only been a mouse for a minute or so. In its previous life, it had in fact been a decorative brass candle holder, and would now only remain a mouse for another few seconds. With a sudden flash of light, the small furry rodent became a dove, and proceeded to take flight around the room in a state of panic.
Harry lay back on his bed, following the dove's flight path with his wand, watching it with mild interest as it dodged around curtains and between bedposts. As it finally flew towards him, seeking out the human presence in the room, Harry decided that enough was enough, and with a subtle wrist motion transfigured his feathered friend into a single white rose that fell neatly into his lap.
He had been spending near enough every day for over a fortnight, transfiguring anything and everything that he could. Sometimes, he would use this as a distraction to stop himself from worrying so much about his dream of Sirius, but other times, he would use the dream as motivation to overcome the challenge that lay before him. Over the past week, he had taken to practising alone, after he had casually turned Ron's pillow into a pig while he slept. This incident had actually inspired to Ron to cautiously check the authenticity of his pillow before going to sleep each night, and Harry had no desire to cause more panic in his fellow Gryffindors than was strictly necessary.
It was as he lay there idly tearing at the rose petals that Ron appeared.
"You're doing it again, aren't you?" he sighed impatiently as Harry looked up, "I'm telling you, you're going to make yourself ill. What use are you going to be, fighting Dark wizards, if you end up killing yourself in the process?"
Harry just looked back at him with a pathetic expression that said "Well, what do you expect me to do?"
"You're hardly sleeping, Harry," Ron continued, "and you've practically been starving yourself. Don't think I haven't noticed. And now, I believe, certain measures need to be taken."
With these words, he drew his wand and swiftly summoned Harry's into his other hand.
"Y'know, I really do think the D.A has improved my charms no end," he smiled, whilst noting the annoyance on Harry's face.
"Give it back Ron," said Harry, rising from the bed and calmly advancing on his friend, "You know perfectly well I could have you begging for mercy."
"Erm, I think you'll find that I have your wand, you cocky git," replied Ron, raising an eyebrow, "and since my birthday is a good five months before yours, I believe it's time you showed respect for your elders and betters."
Harry's shoulders slumped in exasperation.
"Alright, what do you want? Spit it out."
"What I want is for you to forget that you're saving the world for a moment, and have some fun!" Ron snapped impatiently, pointing both wands at him threateningly, "There's a Yule party starting downstairs and where are you? Stuck up here, wasting away! The way your name's been bandied around, anyone would think you're the guest of honour, and if you don't get down there sharpish, I swear I'll jinx you all the way to the common room!"
Seeing the dejected look on Harry's face, Ron had a good idea that this ran deeper than Transfiguration and Charms.
"Listen mate, wherever she is, I'm sure she's fine," he said encouragingly, "As a matter of fact, Mum's here right now, talking to McGonagall about her."
"What?" replied Harry in surprise, "When did she get here?"
"Less than an hour ago," said Ron, urging Harry towards the staircase like a farmer herding cattle, "I don't think she could've stayed away any longer. She promised not to embarrass us, and a bloody good job too, 'cause I think she's staying for Christmas. I suppose it's good to know that we'll all be safe here together, even though Dad's going to be at the Ministry for most of the time. Still, at least she didn't have to travel here alone."
"She wasn't alone?" questioned Harry, "You mean…?"
Before he could finish, they heard a loud explosion from down below, followed by excited cheers and gails of laughter.
"Yes," Ron smiled, "I mean…"
Fanning smoke out of their eyes as they entered the common room, Harry and Ron gradually managed to distinguish the presence of Fred and George, surrounded by a crowd of Gryffindor students.
"I think that one needs a little more work," George remarked, attempting to simultaneously clear the soot from his face and soothe the ringing in his ears.
"WHAT?" replied Fred, as he followed suit.
"I SAID - !"
"Alright, alright, no need to shout!" said Fred as he spotted the new arrivals.
"Harry!" cried the twins in unison.
"Look everyone, it's the man of the hour!" called out George.
The other residents of Gryffindor house had seen surprisingly little of Harry since the term had begun, and those in the lower years were now gawping in a way that had become annoyingly familiar. After awkwardly dismissing the blushes and glances of admiration from various young ladies, he stepped forward to greet the twins, who were still trying to calm the large group of prospective customers.
"Alright, settle down you lot!" Fred yelled, "Now, I'm sure Harry won't mind i us /i talking about this, what with it being a family concern, but the love of his life is currently seeking solitude."
There followed a chorus of sympathy from the girls in the room, with the exception of Romilda Vain, who stood snarling in the background. All Harry could think was how the pair of them had better be careful what they said on the subject, and how lucky it was that Ron was still in possession of both wands.
"We don't know why, we're not going to ask any questions – " he continued.
"-and anyone who feels like pestering Harry about it may consider themselves enrolled in one of our many quality control tests – " put in George.
"A hazardous business to say the least," added Fred, watching everybody take a nervous step backwards.
"The point is," the twins then said in unison, "he needs cheering up!"
This roused a huge cheer from the assembled crowd. With some effort, Harry managed a smile and attempted to enter into the spirit of the occasion.
"So gather round Ladies and Gents," called George, hoisting a series of boxes on to the table in the middle of the common room, "and let us show you exactly how Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes will be celebrating this year!"
Everyone crowded around the twins once again, curious to find the most innovative method for earning their next detention. Fred felt that it would be best to get the bad news over and done with.
"Now, I must warn you that due to various unforeseen side-effects, our Flatulence Caramels will not be available as promised, but we shall be making the necessary adjustments to the recipe over the next couple of months. Also, a word about our vanishing aid products, before you all start asking the same questions. As much as my esteemed colleague and I take pride in our mischievous reputation, we will not, repeat not be manufacturing invisibility cloaks."
"We do have a brand new line of Invisibility Bracelets that will make your hands disappear," put in George, "as well as Invisibility Belts that will make you look like a floating torso, but under Ministry guidelines – "
At this point, there came a unanimous groan of dismay.
"- Yes I know, I know," said Fred sympathetically, "but they'll take our licence away if we start making what they call 'forbidden items'"
"Had four cautions this year already," added George with a beaming smile.
Taking a small blue paper bag from one of the boxes, Fred gestured to their eager audience.
"These, my friends, are among our latest creations," he proclaimed, "We call them 'Menthol Spirits'. Why suffer from having a blocked nose and sore throat this winter, when you have the option of enjoying it?"
George then took a small green pastel from the bag and put it in his mouth. After only a few moments of shifting it around with his tongue, he gave an evil grin and opened his mouth with a loud roaring noise. A pale green mist came rushing out of his throat and took the shape of a huge, menacing ghost of an old man with rotting skin and jagged teeth. The students gasped in amazement, a few of the first and second years electing to hide behind the older Gryffindors. Without warning, the spectre descended with a blood curdling howl upon the crowd, most of whom leapt for cover as the twins glowed visibly with satisfaction, and vanished as it passed harmlessly through them and hit the floor.
"Clears the sinus like a dream, makes your nearest and dearest scream," declared Fred, as he revelled in the sight of everyone picking themselves up and looking a little embarrassed.
"Makes a handy breath freshener too," added George, savouring the menthol flavour.
As a round of applause slowly broke out, the two of them began opening up the other boxes on the table.
"Now, what we have here," said Fred, brandishing a small, shiny green pebble, "is the latest and greatest in anti-theft devices. Simply place in any trunk or schoolbag, and you may rest assured that your belongings will be well protected. Once this is done, any cheeky beggars who feel compelled to rifle through said container without permission will find themselves curiously unable to separate themselves from it, as well as being stuck to the floor until your return. Introductory offer, only five Sickles."
In the meantime, George was demonstrating Weasleys' Festive Eye Drops, allowing him to cry showers of bright sparkling stars, much to the delight of the younger pupils. As he rubbed the last of these from his tear ducts, he nudged Fred and gestured in Harry's direction. Fred nodded and excused himself from the table, beckoning Harry towards him.
"Quick word, if you don't mind mate," he said quietly, and seeing his younger brother in tow, added, "Alone please, Ron."
Ron opened his mouth to voice his opinion, but Fred interrupted him.
"Please, Ron," he repeated, "Harry may well tell you what this is about anyway, but for now, I'd prefer to speak to him man to man."
It was hard to remember the last time Fred had made such a request without a sly, scheming expression on his face, but he now looked so genuinely serious, that Ron reluctantly sighed and retired to a comfortable chair.
"So," began Harry, once they were safely out of earshot of the rest of the room, "Looks like business is going well."
"Don't let yourself be fooled, mate," Fred replied, looking decidedly down in the mouth, "This is about the only highlight we've had in months. Fear isn't good for business, and the Ministry aren't making things any easier. Did you know that they've been posting up notices in Diagon Alley and in the back of the Daily Prophet warning everyone that some of the shops could be selling cursed magical objects? And what with our line of business, we're top of the suspect list, with the exception of a few unsavoury traders in Knockturn Alley. We've actually been chatting to near enough every customer who's walked into the shop, just to see if we can design products tailored to their needs, and you know that isn't the way we like it."
Harry looked concerned, but confused at the same time.
"Well, I wish there was something I could do to help," he said, "but why are you just telling me this?"
"I'm coming to that," muttered Fred secretively, "So anyway, in the spirit of this whole market research initiative, we had our parchment and quills out ready when a fairly wealthy-looking witch walked into our place of business. I think she only came in to browse, maybe to cheer herself up a little. She wasn't too forthcoming at first, but we used our natural charm and eventually got her life story out of her. Turns out that while most people are worrying about You-Know-Who, she was just fretting over her marriage and how it was losing its spark. Truth be told, it didn't sound like there was any spark to begin with. Now, being as sympathetic as we could, we told her to come back six weeks later, promising that we would have the answer. We sold her a few tasteful novelties to put a smile on her face, but our heads were already working on it before she even left the shop."
"And let me guess…" smiled Harry, seeing the grin on Fred's face.
"Yup," he replied proudly, "True to our word, we found a solution. Well, several solutions actually, and the lady in question sent us an owl last week, expressing her gratitude and promising that she would do her best to send some more business our way."
Seeing Harry's continuing sense of confusion, he decided that certain loose ends should be tied together.
"One thing we'll never forget, Harry, is how you were the one who made this whole business venture possible, and with that in mind, we'd like to pass you a little token of appreciation."
Fred then made to reach into his pocket, then paused with caution in his eyes.
"Before I go any further, can I just have your further assurance that you have nothing but honourable intentions towards our sister?"
Harry wasn't sure whether to feel offended, embarrassed, or take this as a perfectly acceptable question.
"You know I do," he replied firmly.
Fred studied him for a moment, then slowly continued.
"Alright, here goes. I only ask, for reasons that will become perfectly obvious, that unless you intend using this as a prank on Filch…and I wouldn't honestly even advise that…neither George nor myself wish to know the slightest detail of how you use this err…gift."
Taking a quick look around to ensure that no one else was looking, he drew what looked like a small glass perfume bottle from his jacket pocket. It was filled with sparkly silver crystals that reminded Harry of the bath salts Aunt Petunia used to have.
"Of all the products we created over those six weeks, we consider this to be the jewel in the crown. Only to be used in the most private and intimate of circumstances, Harry, I give you…Insignia Skyclad. One sprinkle of this stuff over your intended target and…well, let's just say there has never been an ice-breaker like it."
There was a slight awkwardness between them as Harry took the bottle.
"Err…thank you," he mumbled, "Are you, uh, going to tell Ron about this?"
"George will sort him out later, but don't tell anyone, Ron included, that you've got that. It's perfectly safe, all tried and tested but if it ever got thrown around in public, the Ministry would have us for breakfast."
Harry nodded understandingly, then returned to his normal melancholy self. Fred sighed and gave him a friendly punch in the arm.
"Have you forgotten about a certain map that we gave you in your third year?"
"I've thought about it every day," Harry replied with a helpless look in his eyes, "But if I saw Ginny on the map, I would have to go looking for her. She asked me to trust her that she was doing the right thing, and as much as I hate it, I just need to believe in her."
This was met with a grin and a shaking head.
"I know I should be glad that you're handling this so respectfully," said Fred with a subtle snigger, "but you don't have to be so sickeningly noble all the time. If that was Par…. I mean, if I were you, she'd be here right now."
Harry was looking at him with a deep curiosity now, as well as a hint of amusement.
"If that was who?" he enquired, allowing one corner of his mouth to curl into a smile.
"N…nothing…no one, doesn't matter," Fred replied hurriedly, clearing his throat and standing up so quickly that he had to steady himself, "So, yeah…I'd, um…better be getting back to the err…thing…Wheezes…George…"
With that, he turned around and stumbled back to the table where George was just coming to the end of his sales pitch.
"And let me remind you that the use of the aforementioned items within these walls is guaranteed to have you slung out of Hogwarts so fast, your feet won't touch the ground…"