Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was booming. Fred Weasley could hardly count the number of Galleons he and his twin earned each day, and it was a nice and welcome feeling after living most of his life in financial difficulty. Not that he’d ever blamed his dad for it, mind you (alright, maybe when he’d been little and his parents couldn’t afford the miniature broomstick that played loud music every time you made a turn).
Yes, WWW was doing great. It was nice, too, that their mother had warmed immensely to their choice of profession (mostly after she realised that her sons really did have a knack for business). Besides, the world needed more jokes, especially with the war raging on.
At the moment, Fred was in the backroom of the store, trying to convince a young man to buy a Shield Hat. The Defence section was as popular as ever, though today there were only a few customers in it; a couple were looking over the Vanishing Powder and a lady was inspecting a Shield Cloak. Fred noticed out of the corner of his eye that the lady looked very interested in it; potential buyer, Fred noted.
“But it can’t ward off Unforgivables?” the young man was asking Fred, looking dubious. It was the third time he’d asked the same question and Fred felt his patience wearing a bit thin.
“It’s very hard to ward off Unforgivables, sir,” he explained again. “Unforgivable spells are very powerful “ it’d take a wizard casting the Shield spell himself to ward that off.” Fred spotted a set of magenta robes and was delighted to find them attached to his twin brother, George. Maybe he could pass this customer off on him, and he’d go deal with that lady. “This Shield Hat’s a really good deal. Here, I’ll get my brother George to explain it to you further.”
To Fred’s surprise George strode over to them immediately. “Hello, sir, are you buying that?” he asked rather brusquely.
“I’m not sure yet “”
“All right, then. I’m very sorry, but we’re going to have to close for the rest of the day, and we need to clear the premises. Now, we have a fireplace and Floo powder that you can use, I recommend you go straight home “”
“What?” said the young man.
“What?” said Fred, meaning something entirely different.
George hesitated for a moment, as if contemplating what to say, then he smiled. “It’s nothing to worry about. This area’s been classified as under high risk at the moment, but there’s no immediate danger.”
The man looked stunned. “No immediate “”
“Danger, yes. Come on, sir, I’ll walk you to the fireplace.”
“George “” Fred began. But he was gone, leaving his twin feeling rather confused. Fred stood there for a moment, undecided, then went after George.
Outside, it was chaotic. The store, which had been filled with excited customers and customers-to-be before, was now filled with anxious, worried faces. A few people ducked out of the shop as Fred took in the scene, and one of the helpers they’d hired was leading customers to the private backroom and presumably, Fred thought, to the fireplace.
Fred began marshalling the customers, knowing this measure was important even if he had no idea what was going on. He cleared out the Defence section and shut the curtains on it. When a frightened person asked him what was happening, he said tersely, “Safety measure. There’s no immediate danger yet, so don’t worry, but we want to get you out of here as soon as we can.”
The crowd in the store was thinning now. Almost all of them knew the store was being cleared out and the main problem seemed to be the rush to the backroom and the fireplace. Fred wondered if there was enough Floo powder for everyone. As he was scanning the shop he saw, to his surprise, Remus Lupin, who was conversing with a few customers and pointing them to the private backroom.
“Professor!” he called out and Lupin turned to him.
“We need to speed this up, he’ll know by now,” Lupin whispered urgently to Fred as he neared. “He’ll attack sooner.”
“Who’s he? Attack? What’s going on?” Fred murmured back. Then he raised his voice. “Yeah, just in through there, nothing to worry about, just a precaution!” It was directed to another customer.
“Oh, you’re Fred “” Lupin looked around before whispering urgently, “Voldemort “” Fred winced “ “is going to attack. Today. He’s also sore at your U-No-Poo joke “”
“What? He knows about that?”
Lupin gave a smile. “It’s hard not to, with your sign blaring out the window.”
“Yeah, but he actually cares?”
“Apparently he wants to be respected both by Voldemort “” Fred winced again “ “and You-Know-Who. Or maybe he just wants to attack and chose your shop as the starting point because he doesn’t appreciate your jokes.
“Anyway, the important thing is, he’ll have found out by now that we know about the attack, and he’ll probably start early. We don’t know how ready his Death-Eaters are; the attack could come anytime between now and the afternoon. You need to get these people out of here.”
“Aurors not around?” asked Fred.
“They’re outside. We don’t want them in here yet, that’d cause a panic, slow everything down.”
Fred took out his wand. “Sonorus,” he muttered, pointing it at his throat. “May I have your attention, please, everyone?” his voice boomed over the shop. Heads turned to him. “Those of you who know how to Apparate, please proceed outside to do so. I “ Fred Weasley, that is “ will oversee the Apparition, and my brother George is overseeing the fireplace.”
“I don’t know if “” Lupin began.
“It’s faster. That’s what we need, isn’t it?” Fred led some of the customers outside.
Lupin had his reservations. Outside was where the Death-Eaters would strike first. But Fred was also right in saying it would be faster. Perhaps “ no, hopefully “ they’d be able to get everyone out before getting away themselves. In all the other shops around Diagon Alley, its owners were emptying their premises too.
It was almost surprising to see the readiness with which the Weasley twins fell to responsibility. They joked around so much it was usually hard to picture them serious “ indeed, most of the time it was with frustration that one asked a Weasley twin to stop fooling around. Remus, supposed, though, that managing a shop (even a joke one) in Diagon Alley, where a few disappearances had already taken place, had taught the twins a lot; they were growing up.
He heard the screams as soon as they began and groaned. There were still people here. He pulled out his wand as Fred rushed back in. “Get these people out of here.” Then he was out the door.
Fred knew it was not his place to go out into the street; that was for the Aurors. He’d stay here; he’d help George. And he’d try not to panic thinking about the many Dementors that were gliding the streets, providing cover and an atmosphere of terror for the Death-Eaters.
Before Fred had reached the middle of the shop, however, people began running in his direction. “What the “”
There were screams coming from the back of the shop. “George,” Fred whispered, and he began pushing through the crowd, mind fixed only upon the thought of his twin and his safety. He craned his neck for a sight of flaming red hair amongst the crowd. None.
Fred pushed further into the shop. He was almost at the backroom now. He was feeling decidedly colder, too, like he had outside right before the Dementors had appeared.
Dementors.
Shit.
He entered the backroom cautiously, trying not to think about the condition George might be in. Part of the wall had been blasted away. The wooden table lay in pieces on the floor and things were thrown haphazardly around. George was pushing a customer into the emerald green flames of the fireplace.
There were about three Dementors there and Fred felt as though he was going through some very depressing mood. The Death-Eaters were here, too, four of them; hexing, cursing and jinxing.
“Impedimenta!” Fred yelled, and a Death-Eater flew up into the air. “George!”
“Got it!” George yelled back, throwing a Stunning Spell at one of the Death-Eaters, who blocked it and threw a curse at him, which he ducked.
Fred found himself the target of two Death-Eater attacks. He ducked the first curse sent at him, found cover behind a cabinet and sent a curse straight back, before firing off another curse almost immediately after that at the second Death-Eater, and blocking a third curse.
They’d never win in a fight, Fred thought helplessly. They weren’t Aurors, they’d never battled before, how could they even have a chance? They might as well give up now…
He shook his head. What was he thinking? Fred Weasley didn’t think like that, he didn’t just lie down when things got bad…Dementors! He knew why he was feeling so hopeless then. Silently thanking Harry for the DA lessons he’d had the previous year, Fred sent off a haphazard curse before ducking behind the cabinet again. He tried summoning up a happy thought.
“Expecto Patronum!”
Nothing happened. Damn, Harry’s right, it’s harder with real ones around…Fred concentrated again, trying to push out the fear and panic that he wouldn’t be able to do it. An image of the kitchen at Grimmauld Place popped into his mind suddenly, of a night spent in fear, waiting for news of his father…
He pushed the thought away as best he could. Happy thought, happy thought … Fred thought of the first time he and George had opened Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and the tremendous amount of customers they’d got…counting the Galleons that first night…
Smiling slightly, Fred waved his wand again. “Expecto Patronum!” he roared, and to his immense delight and relief, a silver fox shot out the end of his wand.
Fred peeked out from behind the cabinet, shot off a few more curses (and narrowly ducked two) and watched, amazed, as the fox ran, leapt and snapped at the Dementors. They fell back and glided out, the fox disappeared and his head felt a lot clearer.
Battle time.
He sent (aiming, this time) another curse at the first Death-Eater he laid eyes on, unconsciously coming out from the cover of the cabinet as he did so. Then an invisible something hit him hard, in the chest, and he gasped, staggering. “Incendio!” a streak of flame leapt from his wand. The Death-Eater’s robes caught fire.
George yelled. Fred whipped around and saw his twin crash into the cabinet he’d hidden behind earlier, wood splintering and glass shattering around him.
The moment of distraction should have cost Fred, but it didn’t. Lupin had now joined the fray, and he’d cursed the Death-Eater who’d tried to take advantage of Fred’s inattention.
“Reducto!” Fred blocked a curse and threw another one at the Death-Eater who’d sent George flying and hurried to his brother. He seemed a little dazed. “Caraceo!” a shimmering shield encircled both of them. “You ok?”
“Yeah.” George blinked, then got up, wincing a bit as he did so. He fixed his blue eyes on his brother. “Fred. This is our shop.”
“I know.”
“It’s our shop.”
It was a twin thing between them. So often they seemed able to read each other’s minds, and Fred suddenly smiled.
“I know,” he said with an entirely different meaning to before.
Suddenly the shield around them shattered. The twins were ready, though, each firing off two successive spells at two of the three remaining Death-Eaters. One of them went down with blood and boils all over him; the other crashed against the wall.
Lupin was duelling with the remaining Death-Eater. It was a fierce battle, their wands moving so fast they were blurs. George conjured up ropes to bind the three downed Death-Eaters on the floor. Fred sent an unbroken chair skidding on a collision course to the Death-Eater Lupin was duelling with. It distracted the Death-Eater sufficiently enough for Lupin to knock him out.
“Good job, you two. Now, I want you to get out of here.” Lupin glanced nervously back into the shop. Another Death-Eater could come barrelling in at any moment.
Fred and George looked at each other. “Professor, this is our shop,” they said together.
“I know, but there’s nothing you can do. Don’t worry, we’ll handle this,” Lupin said, halfway across the room already.
“No, you don’t understand.” George shook his head.
“It’s our shop.”
“Our products.”
“If anyone can create enough havoc …”
“Distract the Death-Eaters …”
“It’s us,” finished Fred.
“Too dangerous,” Lupin said firmly. “Go. I mean it.” And he left to the main area of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, where there was still a lot of screaming.
“We’re not kids anymore,” Fred said stubbornly after the werewolf’s retreating back.
“Not exactly Aurors, either,” George reminded him.
“But we know what we’re doing.”
“Yeah “ argh!”
Something heavy “ it looked like the remains of the cabinet “ crashed into George and sent him flying through the door Lupin had just gone through. There was another Death-Eater.
Fred sent a jinx at him, which he blocked with ease. Hoping very much that George was going to be alright, Fred ducked a jet of green light and then gasped with pain when another curse hit him “ it felt like he’d been stabbed “ and looking down he saw blood mixing with the magenta of his robes …
“Reducto!” he gasped. He knew where he kept the Weasleys’ Wildfire Whizbangs.
BOOM!
Immediately the air was full of explosions and lights, and one of the Death-Eaters yelled; it seemed he’d been right next to the box went it went off. A huge Catherine wheel shot past Fred into the main area “ he heard George shout before saying, “Stupefy!” There was a loud explosion and several yells.
He’s all right then, Fred thought.
One of the Death-Eaters tried the same thing George had done (one of the firecrackers had been heading straight for him) “ and next second he and his partner had been blasted out onto the back street outside.
Fred scrambled into the main room, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. A rocket shot out from behind him and George muttered a Vanishing Spell “ it multiplied by ten.
“Fred!”
“I’m ok.” Fred winced, far from feeling it. He was glad to see most of the customers gone. There were only Death Eaters and Aurors here now, as well as a few well-trained Order members.
“The fireworks got rid of the Dementors, good eh?” George still looked worried, though.
“Yeah … do you reckon …?”
“Daydreams? Do I!” And with his wand George flung a box of Patented Daydream Charms at a Death-Eater, muttering an incantation as he did so. The Death-Eater blew up the box but it didn’t stop the vacant expression that suddenly appeared in his face after that, allowing Kinsgley Shacklebolt to knock him out with a well-placed spell.
Fred used to his wand to burst open some Skiving Snackboxes and aimed a few Fainting Fancies at the mouths of Death-Eaters. Whenever they opened their mouth to shout a spell, the little tablets would shoot down their throats, forcing the Death-Eaters to swallow them. Now, Fainting Fancies were supposed to be taken one at a time. Fred shot about four or five down the men’s throats, making them pass out there and then.
He lowered his wand, suddenly without the strength to lift it. Fred thought he could feel a warm trickle down his back, and his robes were feeling sticky. No…he had to fight…he drew a deep breath and brought his wand arm up shakily.
“Stupefy!”
Even his voice sounded weak…George, who’d been flinging boxes of Patented Daydream Charms at Death-Eaters, now looked alarmed at Fred. “We have to get you out of here.”
George pulled Fred up with difficulty and began making his way to the backroom. This was a bad move, though “ it made them a lot more conspicuous, and he had to block more spells.
“Caraceo!” George pulled his twin along. “Come on, Fred … let’s get you somewhere quiet so we can Apparate!”
The shield shattered. And Fred and George were suddenly lifted off their feet, crashing into the shelves behind them a moment later. For the millionth time that day George was seeing stars before his eyes. Fred thought he heard an ominous ‘crack’ as something crashed into him, and then darkness enveloped him.
He smelled it first; a clean and clinical smell that could only be associated with St Mungo’s. There were blankets over him, stiff and not at all like his bed above the shop or at the Burrow. He groaned “ his body did not feel good at all “ and opened his eyes.
He was looking into a face that he knew was exactly like his own; blue eyes, small nose and freckles. This face looked both worried and relieved at the same time.
“Whappewhymere?” Fred’s voice came out garbled.
There was laughter in the room. “I’m your twin and even I can’t interpret that,” George chuckled. “How’re you feeling?”
Fred tried sitting up. George and someone else “ his father, Fred saw when he turned to look “ helped him up. Now he had a proper view of the room he was in and the people in it. His mother was the only other person there, eyes red from crying. It looked like he was in a private ward.
Mrs Weasley gave him a fierce hug. He winced slightly but didn’t say anything. “Oh, Fred,” she cried. “I’m so glad you’re alright, I don’t know what I would have done if…if…”
Fred hugged her back. “It’s ok, I’m ok…”
George gave him a glass of water after Mrs Weasley let go. Fred took it gratefully. “What happened?”
George didn’t get a chance to tell him then, as Healer Wythsmick chose that moment to come in. He performed diagnostic checks on Fred using his wand, told him he’d suffered from cracked ribs, a Stabbing Curse and other curse after-effects, advised him to stay out of trouble for at least two weeks, and ended by telling Fred he could be out of St Mungo’s in a few days’ time.
Fred was just staring at the Healer as he left when more people entered the ward. He felt a bit dizzy at all the movement and noise. Ron and Ginny were there, as were Bill, Fleur, Harry, Hermione and “ most welcome of all, even with the oncoming headache “ Angelina Johnson.
He cracked a smile at all of them. “Hey.”
Ginny and Angelina were at his side almost immediately. “How are you?”
He shrugged and was very conscious of the bandage around his chest. “Ok. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” Then he flashed a grin at Angelina. “Angel, darling, where’s my kiss for surviving death and defying all odds so you could have me again?”
“Not funny,” both Angelina and Mrs Weasley said fiercely, at the same time.
“Sorry,” Fred said. He looked around. “I wasn’t that far gone, was I?”
Mr Weasley planted a hand on Fred’s shoulder. “You lost a lot of blood, son. We were very worried about you.”
“I’m alright now,” Fred said brightly. “So no more worries, eh? George, tell me what happened. Did the Aurors drive the Death-Eaters off?”
“Actually…” A slow grin spread itself across George’s face. “We did a lot of it. According to Lupin, our Wildfire Whizbangs caused so much havoc You-Know-Who called off the attack. The Patented Daydreams helped, too.”
“And Fainting Fancies, don’t forget that,” Fred said.
George looked surprised for a moment and then understanding came to his face. “Good one, mate!”
Ron looked from Fred to George and back again. “What do you mean? What did you do?”
George related the happenings at the shop. Lupin’s admission that the twins had helped immensely had made the redhead proud and excited, and the tale was told with much gusto. How Fred had conjured the Patronus (Harry looked quite proud that one of his students had managed it under real circumstances), how they’d both realised they could help fight the Death-Eaters and then set their inventions against them.
Mrs Weasley was looking very disapproving by the time George was done. “Are you telling me,” she began, “that you and Fred knowingly and willingly fought the Death-Eaters?”
George immediately looked wary. “Er “”
She stood up, shaking. Bill surreptitiously cast a Silencing Charm around the room. “Death-Eaters! Not even Aurors-in-training and you want to fight Death-Eaters? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! Fred almost was! How many times have I told you to think before“”
Mr Weasley wrapped his arms around his wife. “The important thing is that they’re safe, Molly “ I’m sure the boys won’t do a thing like that again…will you, boys?”
“No,” Fred said quickly. “We know we’re not Aurors, and they’re the ones who should be fighting Death-Eaters, not us.” He’d learned quickly that where Voldemort and their safety were concerned, it was better not to joke with their mother about it.
Angelina gave Fred a peck on the cheek. She whispered in his ear, “I’m appalled at what you did, but proud of you, too.” Fred couldn’t help but grin.
“Do I get a proper kiss, then?”
Angelina stuck her tongue out at him. “No. That’s your punishment for making me worry.”
“Oh, come on…” Fred wheedled.
The dark-skinned girl sat herself primly down on a chair and ignored him.
“What about you, Hermione?” Fred asked brightly. “Or perhaps the lovely Fleur Delacour?”
Angelina giggled and smacked him lightly on the arm, while the rest of the girls (Mrs Weasley included) gave Fred dirty looks.
The redhead suddenly started, looking rather panicked. “Wait “ how long have I been unconscious? I haven’t missed the wedding, have I?”
“You did,” Bill spoke up. “We were all worried about you and all, but we just couldn’t postpone it. Now that you’re better, Fleur and I can leave for our honeymoon tomorrow.”
Fred spluttered. “You what?” He pointed an accusing finger at his elder brother. “I’ll bet there were shadows overcast when you said your vows. How could you have the wedding without me? I’m hurt, I am. You’ve hurt me to my very core.” He sniffled.
Bill grinned. “I’m kidding. The wedding’s in two days’ time.”
Fred glowered at him. “I’ll get you for that, Bill. Mark my words.”
-END-