Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter… *sigh*
Chapter one: The Weasleys Arrival
Harry paced in his room at number four, Privet Drive one hot and humid night at the beginning of August. His trunk that contained all of his belongings sat by the door, his blanket lay in a heap on the floor -where he had thrown it down angrily earlier when he couldn’t get to sleep- and Hedwig’s cage sat empty by the window while Hedwig was out hunting. Harry, who was far too anxious to sleep, paced around the room. For about the fifteenth time that day, he read over Ron’s letter that had arrived earlier that afternoon.
Harry-
Fred, George, and I will be coming on August 2nd at three o’clock by Floo to pick you up for Bill’s wedding. And guess what? Bill wants you to be one of his groomsmen! See you tomorrow.
Ron
It was now exactly twelve o’ three a.m. on August the second and Harry couldn’t sleep from anxiety. As he paced around the room, he thought back to when he had told Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia about the Weasleys arrival.
“Er… Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, can I talk to you for a minute?” Harry had asked tentatively earlier that afternoon. He still hadn’t told the Durselys about his plan to go after Voldemort, or about Bill’s wedding. Actually, he hadn’t planned to tell them about either. He figured he would simply leave one night and never come back. But, since Ron and the twins would be coming by Floo the next day, he thought he had better warm them.
Uncle Vernon grunted, “What?” he snapped.
“Er… Do you remember the Weasleys? My friends from school? Well, Ron and his twin brothers will be coming by Floo, I mean, like they did three summers ago, tomorrow at three to take me to their house for their older brother’s wedding,” Harry said in a rush.
The color drained from Uncle Vernon’s face, Aunt Petunia let out a muffled cry and dropped her teacup while Dudley put both hands over his mouth and widened his eyes until they were the same size as large walnuts. Apparently they were all remembering the last time the Weasleys had come over and Fred and George had enlarged Dudley’s tongue about fifty times its original size. Harry could tell from the frightened and somewhat annoyed look on Uncle Vernon’s face that he did not want the Weasleys coming over, but was afraid of what would happen if he said no. Because although Harry hadn’t mentioned Bill’s wedding or his plan to go after Voldemort, he had told the Durselys that he could do magic outside of school as of his seventeenth birthday, and Harry had turned seventeen yesterday.
“Er… o-okay,” Uncle Vernon had mumbled reluctantly.
Harry smiled a little bit now as he thought back to Uncle Vernon’s reaction, but this did little to ease the knot that was growing in his stomach. First of all, he was worried because he knew that as soon as the wedding was over Ron, Hermione, and he would be going off the find Voldemort’s Horcruxes, and eventually Voldemort himself. Also, Harry was extremely nervous about seeing his ex-girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister. And no matter how much Harry wanted to get back together with her, he knew that he couldn’t, it was just too dangerous.
Finally, Harry’s legs grew tired from pacing. He flopped down onto his bed and fell into a restless sleep.
It was exactly two fifty-eight p.m. on August the second at number four Privet Drive. Harry and the Dursleys all waited anxiously in the living room. Harry was not sure why the Dursleys had decided to stay at the house that afternoon. He had been hoping that they would leave. He knew what kind of tricks Fred and George were capable of, and he had a feeling that the only reason they were coming instead of Mr.Weasley was so that they could wreak havoc upon the Dursleys.
Harry glanced at the clock. Two fifty-nine. Three o’ clock. Just then, a loud crash was heard in the fireplace. Out stepped Fred, covered in dust.
“Hey, Harry,” he said as he brushed himself off, grinning in a way that clearly said “Get ready for a show!”
George appeared in the fireplace next, followed almost immediately by Ron.
“Hey, Harry, ready to go?” Ron said.
“Yeah,” Harry replied, standing up to get his trunk and Hedwig, which were waiting by his chair.
“Where do you think you’re going, Harry?” Fred asked, putting out a hand to stop him. “I think I’d liked to visit with your aunt and uncle for a bit. Wouldn’t you George?”
“Definitely.” George said, with the same evil grin that Fred had had earlier. With a flick of his wand, he made three chairs appear out of thin air. “Have a seat, Ron,” he said.
Fred, George and Ron all sat on the chairs that Fred had provided. Meanwhile, Harry sat down in the big easy chair he had been sitting in before.
“Merlin! George, look at this!” Fred exclaimed suddenly, jumping up from his chair. He ran over to a lamp in the corner and pointed excitedly at the plugs in the wall. “Dad would love this! He collects plugs, you know,” he added to the Dursleys upon seeing their confused, and somewhat frightened, looks.
“Oh yes,” George went on. “He loves plugs. He’s got about fifty so far, but none quite like this.” And with that, he grabbed a pair of scissors off the coffee table, unplugged the lamp, cut the plug off, and tucked it in his robes pocket. Uncle Vernon gasped and jumped up.
“Now look here… Er….” He was clearly trying to remember George’s name.
“Fred?” George offered with mock-helpfulness
“But I thought he was….” Uncle Vernon stammered, pointing helplessly at Fred.
“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m George and he’s Fred,” Fred said.
Harry at this point was trying very hard not to laugh. He wondered just how many times the twins would switch names on Uncle Vernon before they left.
“Alright, Fred, I-“ Uncle Vernon began.
“Are you deaf?!” George yelled. “I’m George and he’s Fred!” He cried, pointing at Fred.
“But he just said-“ Uncle Vernon began, clearly confused and annoyed.
“I don’t know what your talking about,” Fred said, feigning innocence.
“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOUR NAME IS, JUST DON’T TOUCH ANYMORE PLUGS!” Vernon bellowed.
Fred pretended to look mortally offended. “Well, if you’re going to be so touchy about it.” He walked sadly over to his seat and sat down.
George started humming as he took out his wand. He nonchalantly pointed it at one of Aunt Petunias collectable porcelain plates that hung over the fireplace. Without uttering a word, he levitated it up and let it crash to the floor, smashing it into a million little pieces. Aunt Petunia screamed and Uncle Vernon’s face turned a violent shade of purple.
“Oops, sorry,” George said, not sounding sorry at all. “I can fix that.” And with another flick of his wand he had repaired it and hung it neatly back above the fireplace. “There, good as new.”
Aunt Petunia did not seem to think it was “good as new” for she continued to sulk on the couch.
George and Fred then proceeded to break and fix again every item in the living room, much to the Dursleys’ horror, while talking as if nothing was out of the ordinary. But the Dursleys made no move to complain about the fact that all of their possessions were being broken and fixed again by a couple of teenage boys. They seemed to be too terrified by Fred’s and George’s wands to utter a word.
“So, nice weather we’ve been having, don’t you think?” George said casually as he broke and fixed one of Aunt Petunia’s china teacups that had been sitting on a bookshelf. Uncle Vernon merely grunted as Petunia let out an indignant “Humph”
Harry and Ron were now laughing so hard that they were sure that their ribs would break.
“I think the weather has been lovely,” Fred said easily as he broke and fixed one of Dudley’s video games over and over again, much to Dudley’s horror.
“Well, I guess we should be going,” Fred said, just as he fixed the broken TV for the second time. He mumbled something that sounded distinctly like “Stupid Muggles, not very social, are they?” He then flicked his wand and cleared away the chairs... and the couch the Dursley’s had been sitting on. Dudley, Petunia and Vernon all landed on the floor in a heap, each one of them letting out a cry of pain
“Oops, sorry ‘bout that,” Fred said. He then proceeded to levitate them while George made their couch reappear. Then Fred set them down none too gently back on the couch.
Uncle Vernon’s face was now such a violent shade of purple that Harry was sure that he had stopped breathing.
“Well, bye!” Harry said happily as he dragged his things into the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. He threw the Floo powder and yelled “The Burrow!” as clearly as he could. The last thing he saw were the Dursleys’ astonished faces as Fred turned their coffee table into a giant pig.
A/N: Thanks for reading and please review! Constructive criticism, favorite quotes, etc. is always welcome. Also, thanks to Vickie (a.k.a jynx67) for being my beta reader!