FIC: Weasley Twins' sins Part V
Disclaimer: Everything relating to the Harry Potter universe isn't mine. I think everything is said with this.
Title: Weasley Twins' Sins
Author: Amys
Rating: PG, PG-13
Pairing: Fred and George/unknown Death Eater
V.
It was a nightclub in muggle London. As it was still early in the evening not many people were in. Loud music and flashy neon lights tried to create an atmosphere but the few clients who sat at the bar or lounged in the back already usually weren’t interested in that. Rosita was a waitress here, and her eye had fallen on the two young men sitting at the bar. Usually the clientele was much older at this time of the day, and not as pretty or well off either. She was the first to stand next to them when one of them raised his hand again.
“Yes?” she was sure to paste on her most seductive smile and the outfit waitresses wore at this place emphasised everything there was to emphasise. Guys like them were always a great catch though their preferences could be somewhat… exotic.
They didn’t seem to notice her at all though and ordered the same again. Two Blue Limes cocktails with a fair share of wodka. No problem at all, Rosita thought viciously, the more the better and a bigger chance for her to earn some extra commission this evening. They did seem pretty resistant to alcohol as this was the third empty glass next to them…
But just like the other few customers they had come here for the same reason. To let go, have a drink (or a good few drinks…) and wallow in an environment as black as their depression. Fred and George Weasley sat as their redheaded selves again behind the bar of one of the twelve in a dozen dirty back alley places, doing everything their mother had always warned them of not doing to prepare for the great big thing of their lives for which she and the rest of the wizarding world would kill them, object of their adoration included. They had always liked a risk but never had they thought exactly of a definition of ‘risk’. Now they knew it meant going all the way, and visiting hellholes could be a good preparation. Whatever they wanted to tell themselves of course, it could also be no more than an excuse for an ordinary hangover.
“You know what they say of him now, his looks I mean” Fred said.
“It was a recent picture, I believe. You know where we got it, just why we got it is a question to me. Dumbledore surely would have recognised him, even in that form.” George answered, taking a good swig of his what-was-supposed-to-be-a-longdrink-but-didn’t-live-that-long-at-all in his hands.
“Yeah…” his brother replied. “We did it again, didn’t we?”
“What?”
“Get ourselves into trouble.”
“Not yet, really, but we’re going to”
They both nodded at that observation. It was an interesting idea to think about after all, especially with alcohol in your blood.
“So what are we going to do? Write him a letter and sacrifice an owl?” George said aloud, the tone of his voice betraying he was thinking very hard over that one.
“We don’t know where to find him, so what else do you propose?”
“We do know where to find him… Dumbledore knows, at least. All we have to do is intercept his spy reports and find out what raids he’s planning, and where…”
“I don’t know, but your owl idea sounded more appealing to me” Fred said slowly.
“Yes, but we won’t see him that way, and will you write the letter? I don’t know if that’s a situation I have inspiration for” George explained his line of thought to have his brother grudgingly agree to the logic of it.
“Come, we need another one of those” was his reply before calling the waitress again, managing not to notice her angry glares at being ignored once again.
***
Two days later they had exchanged the leather trousers they had worn in the club for comfortable muggle jeans and their headaches had cleared up as well. Shortly summarised, they were all set up and ready for the next step in their great plan of Dark Lord Flirting. Oh, the tragedies that could unfold, the doom that lay just around the corner of every lover… but they would have none of that and had instead of reading “Les fleur du mal” collected a few items that were absolutely necessary in their quest: one last pair of Extendable Ears that had survived Molly Weasley’s destructive mood swings directed against the twins’ inventive spirits, an ordinary fishing net, a box of candy and the smallest version of a digital muggle camera possible, enchanted with the necessary spells of course. Their father’s love for muggle artefacts had apparently worn off on his sons, but only as far as their pragmatism reached. The brothers may not have been Baudelaire fans but they had watched every James Bond movie…
“So basically, the fishing net is only a manifestation of our usual silly selves, meant for not arousing suspicion?” George asked.
“That’s correct, brother, and it can also serve as a back up plan. If we don’t manage to film the reports, we’ll just have to take them with us” Fred replied with his characteristic enthusiasm.
“Talk about suspicion…” George uttered, grasping the Invincible Fishing Net tightly nonetheless.
Stuffing their pockets full of the assembled equipment they set to apparating to Grimmauld Place where the subject of their plotting waited for his daily cup of morning tea…
***
Albus Dumbledore was waging an inner debate, revolving around the dilemma of going to the kitchen himself or waiting just another five minutes. His problem was abruptly solved when he heard the signal of new arrivals and his curiosity won the plight. Two identical redheads greeted him from across the hallway.
“We were wondering if we could use the library for just a moment, and if our mother is here” one of them said.
“She sure is here, preparing my morning tea if all goes well, and on the first question I would say: help yourselves. There is a handy catalogue to help you out.” Albus replied, following one of the Weasley brothers to the kitchen where the mother of the house resided. Well… one of the mothers, as the screaming portrait decided to make its presence known once more.
Where Fred was on his way to entertain Dumbledore and Molly with questions not innocent enough to arouse suspicion, George quickly entered the office where the Hogwarts headmaster kept his files and dropped one half of the Extendable Ears on a strategic location, namely under the headmaster’s chair. The originality… The little winged camera did its job well enough in the mean time, photographing every available document in reach frantically.
Returning to the kitchen George found his brother there, giving a vivid explanation on the future of the fishing net as an appendage for the broom for the shopping witch or bigger families, the box of candy already half-emptied on the table.
“That is a good example of functional thinking, boys, I truly must congratulate you on your open mindedness!” Dumbledore said enthusiastically.
George barely managed not to grin at his brother’s antics, which were of course very serious attempts at developing the wizarding world’s technology. It didn’t last long anymore as Molly Weasley found a new use of her own broom and chased them away from the kitchen’s food supplies.
“I can see how seriously you take your research, boys, but how are you getting on with the pictures?” Dumbledore asked them before disappearing in his office once again, fully sated with too much sugar for the morning hour.
“Ah, great, we were just coming to that!” George said.
“The library, you see” Fred added apologetically, before racing upstairs.
As an ending note on the usefulness of the day: they enjoyed their mother’s cooking skills at noon before returning to their workshop in Diagon Alley where they decided it was none to early for a little nap. You would for less…
Go back to Chapter 1 (links to all other chapters from there)
Drop a line, a review, a comment, a question if you want, or if you don't want, because I ask you nicely to :) Also, if anyone feels like betaing this little thing, let me known and I'd be most grateful. This story can also be found on ff.net
Title: Weasley Twins' Sins
Author: Amys
Rating: PG, PG-13
Pairing: Fred and George/unknown Death Eater
V.
It was a nightclub in muggle London. As it was still early in the evening not many people were in. Loud music and flashy neon lights tried to create an atmosphere but the few clients who sat at the bar or lounged in the back already usually weren’t interested in that. Rosita was a waitress here, and her eye had fallen on the two young men sitting at the bar. Usually the clientele was much older at this time of the day, and not as pretty or well off either. She was the first to stand next to them when one of them raised his hand again.
“Yes?” she was sure to paste on her most seductive smile and the outfit waitresses wore at this place emphasised everything there was to emphasise. Guys like them were always a great catch though their preferences could be somewhat… exotic.
They didn’t seem to notice her at all though and ordered the same again. Two Blue Limes cocktails with a fair share of wodka. No problem at all, Rosita thought viciously, the more the better and a bigger chance for her to earn some extra commission this evening. They did seem pretty resistant to alcohol as this was the third empty glass next to them…
But just like the other few customers they had come here for the same reason. To let go, have a drink (or a good few drinks…) and wallow in an environment as black as their depression. Fred and George Weasley sat as their redheaded selves again behind the bar of one of the twelve in a dozen dirty back alley places, doing everything their mother had always warned them of not doing to prepare for the great big thing of their lives for which she and the rest of the wizarding world would kill them, object of their adoration included. They had always liked a risk but never had they thought exactly of a definition of ‘risk’. Now they knew it meant going all the way, and visiting hellholes could be a good preparation. Whatever they wanted to tell themselves of course, it could also be no more than an excuse for an ordinary hangover.
“You know what they say of him now, his looks I mean” Fred said.
“It was a recent picture, I believe. You know where we got it, just why we got it is a question to me. Dumbledore surely would have recognised him, even in that form.” George answered, taking a good swig of his what-was-supposed-to-be-a-longdrink-but-didn’t-live-that-long-at-all in his hands.
“Yeah…” his brother replied. “We did it again, didn’t we?”
“What?”
“Get ourselves into trouble.”
“Not yet, really, but we’re going to”
They both nodded at that observation. It was an interesting idea to think about after all, especially with alcohol in your blood.
“So what are we going to do? Write him a letter and sacrifice an owl?” George said aloud, the tone of his voice betraying he was thinking very hard over that one.
“We don’t know where to find him, so what else do you propose?”
“We do know where to find him… Dumbledore knows, at least. All we have to do is intercept his spy reports and find out what raids he’s planning, and where…”
“I don’t know, but your owl idea sounded more appealing to me” Fred said slowly.
“Yes, but we won’t see him that way, and will you write the letter? I don’t know if that’s a situation I have inspiration for” George explained his line of thought to have his brother grudgingly agree to the logic of it.
“Come, we need another one of those” was his reply before calling the waitress again, managing not to notice her angry glares at being ignored once again.
***
Two days later they had exchanged the leather trousers they had worn in the club for comfortable muggle jeans and their headaches had cleared up as well. Shortly summarised, they were all set up and ready for the next step in their great plan of Dark Lord Flirting. Oh, the tragedies that could unfold, the doom that lay just around the corner of every lover… but they would have none of that and had instead of reading “Les fleur du mal” collected a few items that were absolutely necessary in their quest: one last pair of Extendable Ears that had survived Molly Weasley’s destructive mood swings directed against the twins’ inventive spirits, an ordinary fishing net, a box of candy and the smallest version of a digital muggle camera possible, enchanted with the necessary spells of course. Their father’s love for muggle artefacts had apparently worn off on his sons, but only as far as their pragmatism reached. The brothers may not have been Baudelaire fans but they had watched every James Bond movie…
“So basically, the fishing net is only a manifestation of our usual silly selves, meant for not arousing suspicion?” George asked.
“That’s correct, brother, and it can also serve as a back up plan. If we don’t manage to film the reports, we’ll just have to take them with us” Fred replied with his characteristic enthusiasm.
“Talk about suspicion…” George uttered, grasping the Invincible Fishing Net tightly nonetheless.
Stuffing their pockets full of the assembled equipment they set to apparating to Grimmauld Place where the subject of their plotting waited for his daily cup of morning tea…
***
Albus Dumbledore was waging an inner debate, revolving around the dilemma of going to the kitchen himself or waiting just another five minutes. His problem was abruptly solved when he heard the signal of new arrivals and his curiosity won the plight. Two identical redheads greeted him from across the hallway.
“We were wondering if we could use the library for just a moment, and if our mother is here” one of them said.
“She sure is here, preparing my morning tea if all goes well, and on the first question I would say: help yourselves. There is a handy catalogue to help you out.” Albus replied, following one of the Weasley brothers to the kitchen where the mother of the house resided. Well… one of the mothers, as the screaming portrait decided to make its presence known once more.
Where Fred was on his way to entertain Dumbledore and Molly with questions not innocent enough to arouse suspicion, George quickly entered the office where the Hogwarts headmaster kept his files and dropped one half of the Extendable Ears on a strategic location, namely under the headmaster’s chair. The originality… The little winged camera did its job well enough in the mean time, photographing every available document in reach frantically.
Returning to the kitchen George found his brother there, giving a vivid explanation on the future of the fishing net as an appendage for the broom for the shopping witch or bigger families, the box of candy already half-emptied on the table.
“That is a good example of functional thinking, boys, I truly must congratulate you on your open mindedness!” Dumbledore said enthusiastically.
George barely managed not to grin at his brother’s antics, which were of course very serious attempts at developing the wizarding world’s technology. It didn’t last long anymore as Molly Weasley found a new use of her own broom and chased them away from the kitchen’s food supplies.
“I can see how seriously you take your research, boys, but how are you getting on with the pictures?” Dumbledore asked them before disappearing in his office once again, fully sated with too much sugar for the morning hour.
“Ah, great, we were just coming to that!” George said.
“The library, you see” Fred added apologetically, before racing upstairs.
As an ending note on the usefulness of the day: they enjoyed their mother’s cooking skills at noon before returning to their workshop in Diagon Alley where they decided it was none to early for a little nap. You would for less…
Go back to Chapter 1 (links to all other chapters from there)
Drop a line, a review, a comment, a question if you want, or if you don't want, because I ask you nicely to :) Also, if anyone feels like betaing this little thing, let me known and I'd be most grateful. This story can also be found on ff.net