Chapter 11
Daisy stood, arms crossed, waiting for the twins to explain their earlier hasty departure. What sort of excuse will they peddle this time? she wondered.
Fred and George looked at each other and shrugged.
“Would you believe we can run really fast?” George asked with a hopeful grin.
“No.” It was difficult for Daisy not to roll her eyes heavenward.
“It’s true,” George continued. “Comes from years of running from three older brothers--”
“--And a mum who’s scary beyond all reason when she’s angry,” Fred finished.
“Am I to understand that the two of you are often in trouble?” Daisy wanted to know, giving them a skeptical look.
“Some would say that,” Fred replied sheepishly.
“But we aren’t as horrible as we once were,” George added with a wink.
“I agree,” Fred nodded. “We’re worse.”
Daisy sigh in exasperation. “That still doesn’t explain what I saw; was that some sort of magic trick?”
“Er, if you’re inclined to believe such a thing, then sure, why not?” There was a hint of a smile on Fred’s lips.
“Ha!” Daisy cried, snapping her fingers. Quietly, she added, “You’re very good, you know.”
“Why, thank you,” George replied, inclining his head. “We have our own shop.”
Daisy perked up, interested in this bit of information. “Really? That’s fascinating; where might I find it?”
Fred shot his brother an annoyed look; apparently George had said too much. “Er, in London,” George replied, looking away from his brother.
“Wonderful!” Daisy laughed. “The fair will be setting up near there in two weeks; I must stop by and say hello.”
“Well--” they were just about to concoct an outrageous story as to why Daisy couldn’t visit, when Mr. Weasley appeared, striding towards them and looking worried.
“Fred! George! There you are!”, their father sighed with relief. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you. Didn’t you see Hermione’s sig--?” He stopped, suddenly aware that his sons were not alone.
Fred turned to the dark-eyed, olive-skinned girl next to him. “This is Daisy. Dad. She works here.” He emphasized his last words, to make sure his father didn’t say or do anything outrageous.
“Oh.” Mr. Weasley said blankly; then it dawned on him that Daisy was a Muggle. “Oh! Hello, young Mug--er, lady. A pleasure to meet you.”
Daisy took in the man’s faded tweed jacket and odd black cap. It was quite obvious, even without an introduction, that this man had to be their father. She shook his hand, smiling as she did so. “Likewise, I’m sure.”
Mr. Weasley turned to the twins. “The two of you need to head back to the Burrow; something has happened to Harry and it’s not safe for you to remain here.”
Fred and George nodded, looking questioningly at their father, but said not a word; Daisy, on the other hand, looked alarmed.
“What’s happened? Is it serious? Are they closing the fair down?” She didn’t wait for an answer; she started moving away. “I must get back to my uncle--it was nice meeting all of you!”
Fred and Mr. Weasley shook her hand in departure, but George was more forward; he pulled her to him and gave her a hug.
Daisy then bid them farewell and slipped off into the darkness almost as quietly as she had appeared.
After a moment, Fred turned to his brother and said, “I hated lying to her like that; I hope she doesn’t get into too much trouble.”
George’s eyes twinkled merrily. “If she does, she’ll be able to find someone who can help her.”
Mr. Weasley beckoned his sons to a cluster of tents and slipped behind them. He looked about to be certain no Muggles were present then asked, “You didn’t tell her anything about... us, did you?
Fred turned to his brother, shocked. “Did Dad just insult us?”
George nodded, equally outraged. “I think he did; I think he just called us twits.”
“Fred,” Mr. Weasley said, exasperated, “I did not call either of you twits!”
“I’m George, Dad.”
“Oh. I can see why your mum gets you confused; you two are quite identical!”
George sighed. “That’s called ‘being twins’, Dad.”
Mr. Weasley ignored him. “I need the two of you to get back to the Burrow immediately. Someone placed the Cruciatus Cruse on Harry and--”
“What?” the twins asked in unison, looking stunned. “Who would do--? Is You-Know-Who here?” Fred demanded.
Mr. Weasley shook his head, making his cap fall slightly to the right. “Not that anyone in the Ministry is aware of; but I need to do a bit of investigating, so hurry along and let your mother know that I will be home in thirty minutes.”
“Do you need any help, Dad?” one of the twins asked him.
Arthur Weasley shook his head; when he saw the wand in his son’s hand he hissed, “Put that away, George! Do you want the Muggles to see?
“I’m Fred, Dad.” Fred rolled his eyes.
“Ah! Just go!” Mr. Weasley looked annoyed. “ And don’t waste any time! Disapparate at once back to the Burrow; I’ll be along shortly.”
Fred and George nodded; on the count of three, the two disappeared in the blink of an eye. Mr. Weasley looked around once more, straightened his cap and moved away, determined to get to the bottom of things.
The three wizards would have been quite mortified if they had known they were, in fact, being watched. A single, dark eye peeped out at them through a tiny slit in one of the canvas tents.
Upon Fred and George’s sudden disappearance, this eye widened in shock; Was I mistaken in what I saw--and heard? its owner wondered, feeling stunned.
There was some movement behind the canvas, then a body wiggled out from under the tent flap.
Daisy jumped to her feet and scanned the area; Fred, George and their father were no longer in sight.
She looked down at the bag in her hand; a purple velvet pouch, with a soft gold cord tied at the top, lay in her open palm--at it seemed quite heavy. At first, when she had snatched it from George during their quick hug, she thought maybe she’d taken back the money from the gold pot, but now...
Curiosity got the better of her; she quickly untied the gold cord and peered inside the pouch. What she saw took her breath away.
“G-gold?” This wasn’t the money from the pot the twins had won.
Sure enough, inside the silk-lined bag lay many large gold coins. Daisy took one out, held it up, and marveled at its size and weight.
“One Galleon,” she read aloud. No known currency was called as such; was this what wizards used to purchase things? It certainly was shiny--too shiny, as a matter of fact! Daisy put the coin in her mouth and bit down on it; it felt real enough to her!
Now it made sense: Fred and George winning the money, their sudden disappearance, and reluctance to explain anything, the strange magic and coins.... they weren’t on the lam--they had a dangerous secret to hide!
But... was ‘dangerous’ the right word for them? Daisy wondered, tilting her face to the sky. Fred and George seemed harmless enough--as did their father--but what if it were an act?
They’d mentioned words Daisy didn’t recognize; what was ‘the Burrow’ and were ‘muggles’ a new term for targets? And exactly who was this Harry who had a curse put on him?
She had mistakenly assumed that the twins were con artists-on-the-run who dabbled in magic; never could she have imagined they were wizards!
Daisy sighed heavily, tying the pouch to her belt loop. Real, live wizards; the prospect was almost overwhelming!
If people knew about them, many of the world’s problems could be solved, Daisy thought, her mind reeling at the possibility. There would be no hunger, or war, or poor people! She began dancing around excitedly, believing she had not only become very rich--she had just found the answer to the suffering of mankind!
However, something small and white slipped out of her pocket and fluttered to the ground. Curious, she snapped it up and read:
Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, Number 93 Diagon Alley, London. Owners: Fred and George Weasley. Established 1994.
Diagon Alley? Daisy wondered, frowning. I’ve never heard of such a place. Of course, it was highly probable that Diagon Alley was a new shopping mall; Daisy hadn’t been to London in nearly a year, so there were bound to be many new things to experience there.
She turned the card over and saw the twins smiling up at her, wearing bright magenta jackets, standing in front of their establishment. Daisy laughed, thinking the magenta color clashed with their bright red hair.
She was about to place the card into the pocket of her multicolored broomstick skirt when she heard voices emanating from the card.
“What in the--?” Daisy murmured, shocked.
Fred and George were speaking!
“--Complete line of WonderWitch products,” Fred was saying, “as well as Portable Swamps, Skiving Snackboxes, Extendable Ears, Patented Daydream Charms--” (at this, a frizzy-haired girl appeared, smiling, saying, “That really is extraordinary magic!”) “--and Wildfire Whizbangs.”
“Ahh!” Daisy shrieked, throwing the card down on the ground. When it became silent, she poked it with her foot.
Nothing happened.
Feeling like she was suddenly thrust into a bad comedy, Daisy bent over and lifted the card from the grass. Immediately, the card became animated once more, picking up where it left off--and she found she couldn’t put the thing down.
“But that’s not all!” George continued, grinning like a maniac. “We cater to the witch and wizard who has everything--or is looking for something extra-special; see us about our line of Shield Products, guaranteed to protect you--” (a small voice in the back ground stated in a hurried voice, “Shield Products purchased at your own risk; no refunds on any product at any time, ever.”) “--so come on down to Diagon Alley and visit Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes!”
While the two continued to wave from their storefront, the same hurried voice said, “Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes is accessible by Floo Network, Apparating, or gaining entrance to Diagon Alley through The Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross Road in London.”
The card became silent once more, with Fred and George smiling and waving up at Daisy. Unthinking, Daisy waved back, until she realized neither boy could really see her.
A commercial ...on a business card? Daisy thought, stunned. Part of her felt she should show someone, but she recalled the secretive manner in which Mr. Weasley conducted himself.
Maybe it’s best I say nothing at all, Daisy concluded, tucking the card into the pocket of her colorful skirt. Leastwise, not until I find those Weasley boys myself and get to the bottom of things; if they try to con me again, I’ll expose them--and the world they live in!