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SIYE Time:13:24 on 29th March 2024
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Movers & Shakers
By PatronyBologna

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Category: Open House Challenge (2006-2)
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley
Genres: General
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 13
Summary: Set in HBP: Life has a funny way of shaking things up. After their Saturday morning apparation lessons, Harry and company find themselves in a heap of trouble. Moving through the misty streets of Hogsmeade, having been separated from the girls, there was only one thing left to do. Stay alive.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3644





Author's Notes:
Set in HBP: Tucked between chapter 20, Voldemort's Request and chapter 21, The Unknowable Room.

It took a minture or two before inspiration struck, but when it did... watch out. Here's hoping that writing down to the wire and into the wee small hours of the morning can produce something more than complete and utter jibberish. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. But then again.... you never know! ~Patrony :)




ChapterPrinter


Movers & Shakers




“Shh.”

Harry could hear Ron’s whisper echo from the other side of the darkened alley. His knees ached in protest as he continued to crouch behind a good-sized wooden crate. He released a long, deep breath and watched it swirl in front of him before disappearing into the dense mist that now surrounded them. It was very difficult to see, let alone find their bearings.

What had started out as a dewy-bright, Saturday spring morning, had now turned into something much darker and something much more foreboding. Spending another hour staring at a hoop five feet in front of him and spinning ridiculously on cue, all the while listening to the wispy instructor drone on about the three D’s and the need for perfect concentration, suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

“Stay quite and get down.” Ron pulled a hysteric Lavender behind a grouping of rubbish bins. Apparently, she was having a hard time coming to terms with their present situation. Harry had a good idea of how it happened and Ron seemed to be neutralizing the problem.

Taking a chance, knowing that they couldn’t hide behind in the alley too much longer and the eerie silence getting the better of his nerves, Harry eased around side of the crate and took stock of what they had to work with, which wasn’t much. Once safely out of view, he wordlessly told Ron the bleak outlook. It consisted of nothing more than a furrowed brow and a pointed glance up the alley. Ron had understood completely and prepped his girlfriend for what they were about to do.

When Ron’s full attention returned; Harry, not saying anything, counted down from three. At one, he took a quick breath and left the idle comfort of the crate and edged alongside the rough brick towards High Street and what awaited them in the patchy fog, ignoring the burning sensation in his legs as blood rushed back into them. He could hear the distant cries of spells being cast followed by small explosions and muffled screams. The silence had been replaced and what he heard was even more unnerving.

At the corner he checked behind him, making sure that they wouldn’t be attacked from the rear. Harry stood guard as Ron pulled a reluctant Lavender up against the brick.

“I didn’t see anything on the right side.” Ron breathed, “It looked deserted.”

“Wish me luck.” Harry replied wryly and disappeared around the corner.

He didn’t make it very far standing upright. Instinctively he dropped to the ground as he felt the hot blast of a spell flash just above him. Now on his belly, he crawled to door of Schrivenshaft’s and gave it a forceful push, the hinges groaned but opened up just enough to squeeze through. Harry peered into the void and listened for any sign of inhabitants. Deciding that the unknown was better than staying out in the open, he pulled himself over the threshold and was swallowed into the black.

On his hands and knees, Harry made his way around the counter and stopped short; something or someone had moved. He held his breath, listening, waiting for it to move again. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck bristled, it was a rush he was all too familiar with. And then he saw it; the ragged, knotted end of a shoelace snake around the opposite side of the counter base.

“Neville?” Harry was able to eek out past the lump in his throat. “Neville, is that you?”

Sure enough, Neville slid into view. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me too.” Harry sighed in relief and leaned against the base of the cabinet. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah.” Neville took a seat next to him, but jumped when he heard the door creak and the distinct sound of two people scurrying through.

“It’s okay.” Harry nodded, relieving Neville of his panic.

On the left bottom side of the counter he saw a well-known tuff of red hair. “Nice of you to join us.”

“Tell me about it.” Ron rolled his eyes and met up with the two boys as Lavender rounded the corner on all fours, looking quite put out by it all. “Have you seen the girls?” He asked the newest member of their party.

“No.” Neville wiped his brow with his sleeve; he was still holding his wand. “Dean got hit; he went down by the Three Broomsticks, that’s where we got split up. I don’t know where Seamus is.” He hesitated for a moment, “I haven’t seen any of them.”

“Ginny?” Harry asked hopefully, the constant prowling of the creature in his chest urged him on. “You haven’t seen her?”

Neville shook his head while Lavender expressed her frustration, “Stop worrying about them and worry about us.” Just then the window rattled in the casement from the percussion of a nearby blast. “We’re the ones in trouble.” She yelped, “This isn’t funny anymore, I- .”

“I can go upstairs- I pasted the staircase in the back when I came in. It could give us a better view.” Neville offered, cutting off Lavender.

“Be careful.” Harry wished him luck and watched Neville fade into the dark.

“Hermione wouldn’t mind being holed up in here.” Ron said off-handedly, thumbing through a charred catalog on the floor. “She’d even find the time for some light reading.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Harry smirked.

Finished with the publication, Ron put it aside. “I don’t suppose the Prince has anything we could use right about now?”

“Afraid not.” Harry shrugged before getting up off the floor to take a quick look over the counter and out the main window.

“Sorry.” Ron’s eyes flicked to Lavender who was huddled in the corner, twirling her hair. Every time a blast would hit the building, she would flinch and bite harder on her lower lip.

“Well, at least we know where she’s at.” Harry dismissed the need for an apology.

“That’s just it,” Ron quietly scoffed, "Us and everybody else.”

Neville came back into view and gave his report, “There’s some flashes two stores down and to the right. All is clear to the left… I thought I saw an old witch in the alley, but there was so much fog, I can’t be sure.”

“What’s the plan, Harry?” Ron asked.

“Er… Neville, I want you to cross the street and head north for a block, then right and hopefully behind the mess.” Neville nodded, accepting his assignment.

“Ron- Lavender, go back through the alley and right. Don’t head north until you’ve reached Madam Puddifoot’s. I know it’s the long way, but I think it might be the...”

“No problem.” Ron finished for him, shouting over a loud crack. “With all this racket, they won’t hear us.”

“I’ll stay here and cover you, and then I’ll go left and try to skirt around the hot-spot. Maybe I can find out just how many of them are left. We’ll meet up at the old Zonko’s shop and go from there.” Harry wiped his hands on his trousers, “Ready?”

“See you on the other side.” Ron shrugged his eyebrows and crawled over to Lavender.

“I’ll go first, wouldn’t want to miss out on anything.” Neville chuckled half-heartedly, “I can’t believe I signed up for this.”

“You and me both.” Harry returned. “I’m right behind you.”

The four of them crawled out from the counter and true to his word, Neville was the first out the door. Harry had taken up a position next to the window, having squeezed through a small gap between two display cases, where a few of the panes had been broken out. He had a clear view of Neville’s path, who had quickly bolted across the street and without incident, he was gone. Next he watched as Ron dragged a shaken Lavender from the refuge, muttering incoherently to herself ‘get me out, get me out’ as they went. He felt bad for Ron, who was going to hear about it later.

Now it was his turn to leave.

Harry sucked himself in and inched back through the gap, hitting the floor again as loud crack broke the temporary reprieve. He crawled back around the counter and followed the worn, wooden planks to the door. Just before his outstretched hand reached its destination, his heart stopped and the creature grumbled in defeat. He could feel the slender side of a wand pushed up against his neck and caught a whiff of something flowery.

“Hello, Ginny.” Harry kept perfectly still; he didn’t want to give her a reason.

“Harry,” She coolly replied, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Needed a new quill.” He replied dryly, blindly rolling is wand on the floor behind him. “You?”

“Ah, I heard they were having a sale.” Ginny slowly pulled the side of her wand along his neck, shoulder, and back until the tip of it was firmly between his shoulder blades. “Having a hard time standing today?”

“At the moment, yes.”

“So, do you want this the easy way or the real easy way?”

“Your choice.” Harry dared to turn around. “Surprise me.”

“I think I already did.” Ginny grinned, making sure to keep her wand squarely pointed on his chest and pocketing his. “You can either have the honor of receiving my famous Bat-Bogey hex or…”

“Or?”

“Or concede the bragging rights, that I, little Ginny Weasley, caught the great Harry Potter and held him at my mercy.”

“I wouldn’t say little, great is definitely an exaggeration,” A smiled played on his lips, “and mercy is stretching it a bit, don’t you think?”

Ginny reacted so fast that Harry barely had time to back pedal.

“I’m at your mercy.” Immediately he held up his hands as she drew her arm behind her head, “Mercy?”

She winked and followed through with the spell movenments; Harry closed his eyes and winced, waiting for the bats. They never came.

“I suppose the whole school is going to know.” Slowly prying his eyes open, figuring the worse was over, he found that Ginny was offering him a hand up off the floor.

“No, it's better if I keep it our little secret.” Ginny leaned back, pulling him to his feet and laughed, “I have more leverage that way.”

“Maybe I should have taken the hex.” Harry mumbled, knowing full well that Ginny heard.

“You're mine, Potter.” She held the door open, holding out his wand as he passed.

Harry smiled sheepishly as the creature snipped at his insides and stepped out into the street. ‘If she only knew.





Back at the entrance they found an unhappy Ron, an irate Lavender, an unusually smug Hermione, a humbled Dean, confused Neville, and a seemingly oblivious Luna who was bouncing her head from side to side like she was enjoying a tune only she could hear. They were all standing around a large table in the waiting tent the D.M.L.E. had setup for the open house.

“Well done, girls.” Tonks piped up from behind the gathering. “Knew these boys didn’t have anything on you. What was it…five to three?” Harry’s teammates took a sudden interest in the grass below their feet. “Wotcher, Harry.”

“Hey, Tonks.” He replied, Ginny left his side and returned to Dean.

“How’d you like our little Demo?” She asked, it was the happiest he had seen her all year and judging by the mousy brown hair that she still wore- instead of her signature bubblegum pink- it wasn’t very happy. “Realistic enough?”

“Very.” Harry admitted. “I take it most of the explosions weren’t the girls.”

“Nope, part of the plan. Chaos and confusion, you know the drill.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, thanks for being our first set of guinea pigs, hopefully we’ll have a good showing.” Tonks turned back to the table and a stack of fliers. “Williamson, the lanky, cranky looking guy with a long ponytail, is rustling up some business as we speak.”

“Sorry I couldn’t get anymore former D.A. members, since we haven’t had any meetings this year, I guess everyone just forgot.” Harry chuckled, “I’ll be sure to send victims your way.”


“Which I think we just got some in.” Tonks smiled and headed toward the front of the tent where a group of third years had just wandered in. “Later, Harry.”

“Later.” He replied before turning to Ron. “How’d it happen?”

“You’ll never guess.” His best mate said sarcastically, his line of sight shifted towards Hermione who was now animatedly chatting with Ginny, there was no doubt as to what they were on about. “Right in front of Puddifoot’s.”

“What happened to Lavender?” Harry asked, noticing that she was keeping her distance and dusting off her jeans.

“Hermione.” Ron couldn't help the smirk. “She hit her first, just stunned her is all but she toppled over anyway.”

“I bet she enjoyed that.” Harry grunted, catching Ginny out the corner of his eye.

“Not as much as what she did to me.” Ron admitted only that. “You?”

“Pretty much the same.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t spread.” Ron sighed and motioned to Lavender, “I suppose I should see how she’s doing.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna need it.” Ron walked off, prepared to get an earful.

“Meet you at the dueling stage in five?” He called out to his retreating back.

Ron merely waived, Lavender had started her offensive.

“Hi, Harry.” Hermione greeted him with a nudge. “That was such a wonderful, well-thought out educational tool, everyone needs to experience it if they’re at all interested in becoming an auror.”

“Sure it was.” He smiled; it was obvious she didn’t want to rub it in. “Well played.”

“Nah, we had some help.” She shrugged, pointedly looking around his shoulder and the happy couple behind him. Lavender hadn’t hit her stride yet. “We’re going to check out some of the other exhibits; I’ll see you around, Harry.” Hermione giggled as Ginny pulled her through the eager third years with Neville and Luna in tow. The creature took comfort in the fact that Dean had left just moments before, after he heard him mention something about finding Seamus.

Pretending to read the map, locating all the exhibits on the grounds and giving a brief synopsis of each, Harry bided his time before leaving, hoping that Lavender would take a breath or two and let Ron go. Fortunately for Ron, that’s exactly what happened.

Lavender strode past, making sure to glare at him and Ron as she did so, the latter looking as irate as his girlfriend had been, she lead the way out of the tent.

“That wasn’t so bad.” Harry fell in step beside him, both keeping a safe distance back.

“Speak for yourself.” Ron muttered out the side of his mouth.

“Sorry, mate.” Harry clapped his shoulder.

“I’m going to find Parvati.” She stopped suddenly, addressing the both of them. “I’ll see you later, Ronald.”

“Here…” Ron snatched the map out of Harry’s hand, “Take this.”

“Thank you.” She tersely replied, making sure to give Harry the evil eye one more time before going her separate way.

“Well, I guess we got to go to Hogsmeade anyway.” Ron shrugged off the lingering gloom of Lavender, “Not a bad idea, just wish I could get those non-verbal spells down. That’s how Hermione did it, you know, I didn’t even hear it coming. Saw her, but by then it was too late.”

“That’s Hermione for you.” Harry consoled him, “She’s not the brightest witch of her year for nothing.”

“Yeah… I’ll have to work harder.” Ron kicked a loose stone along the path back to the upper lawn. Harry could only smile. “So, dueling stage next?”

“That’s the plan, unless something better comes long and changes our mind.”




Once over the top of the hill they could see the entirety of the open house and things had moved into full swing now that it was later in the afternoon. There were almost fifty tents, all different shapes and sizes, lined up like row houses that criss-crossed the lawn. In the center, much like a city park, stood a large, elevated stage that was to be used for demonstrations and dueling challenges.

“Hey, when are sign ups for the dueling?” Ron asked, “McLaggen and I have a date.”

“Really?”

“Of course, your head is too fragile, remember. Someone needs to put him in his place.” Ron continued eagerly, “It’s my fault, really… that you even had to put him back on the team.”

“It was circumstantial, Ron, it wasn’t your fault.” Harry said, “Be sure to hit him once for me, or better yet, sign me up.”

The red head grinned wickedly, “Only once?”

They reached the first row of vendor tents and glanced at each one as they passed by. The temporarily displaced shopkeepers levitated large, obnoxious signs and shouted the praises of their products to passer-by’s. Invisibility potions, enchantment medallions, and furry, scaly creatures Hagrid was sure to fall in love with; whatever it was, you could find it here.

It seemed more like a marketplace than a ministry sponsored public relations event, but then again, this was the Ministry. Whether it was throwing innocent people in Azkaban or using the Prophet to push their agenda, Chosen One or not, it was sell, sell, sell. This charade of an open house was proof. After what happened to Katie and Ron, Harry was surprised they hadn't imposed on Hogwarts sooner. Dumbledore had stood his ground and was no doubt standing it still.

“Bet your Dad is loving this.” Harry thought of Mr. Weasley’s promotion, he was sure 98% of the items being touted were of no real value.

One tent in particular caught their attention. The pitchman, surrounded by a few enraptured students and various people outside of Hogwarts, spoke in a quiet voice, his pitch and speed fluctuated depending on how important the bit was. Like a well-versed storyteller in front of a class of primary students on Halloween, he had them hanging on every syllable. A technique Professor Slughorn often used to his benefit with great effect.

“Don’t be fooled by its seemingly innocent appearance,” The feeble looking, white-haired man held out his hand and the silver, fork-like object balancing in it. “This could very well save your life.”

“It’s a fork.” A plump woman said over the group, “I have a whole set of fancy ones in my buffet drawer, spoons and knives too.”

“There’s a fraud in the making.” Ron elbowed him in the side.

The crowd, including Harry and Ron, started to laugh, but was immediately hushed by the salesman. “This is no ordinary fork, my dear Lady,” another pause for dramatic effect before continuing in a hushed voice, “This is a Mereg Besugo, invented by the famed Hungarian wizard, Duluak Vitzoswickski in 1643.”

“This, Boys and Girls, Witches and Wizards, will detect up to sixteen different poisons hidden inside any food.” The man returned to a small table inside his tent and threw off a large, billowing tablecloth that covered four plates piled high with various foods. He took the first one, thick slices of roast beef and a side of gravy and mash, and ran it under the noses of the crowd was he talked. “It looks tasty, doesn’t it? It smells delicious… doesn’t it?”

“Food.” Both Ron and Harry mumbled, their eyes lighting up, nostrils flaring. Breakfast had been long gone.

The theatrical salesman lifted up the fork like a dagger and thrust it into the mouthwatering beef for all to see. It instantly turned gold and on cue the crowd gasped. “It’s been poisoned.”

“Too right, young lad and a lethal dose of it.” He lifted the plate high over his head for all to see.

“That’s a surprise.” Harry muttered, completely unimpressed. “Like Voldemort has nothing better to do than to run around and poison everyone’s dinner.”

“You don’t suppose it comes in a glass, do you?” Ron mocked, “Would have done me some good a few weeks ago.”

“Doubt it.” Harry scoffed, “Let’s go before brings out the spoons or worse yet, salad forks.”

“Well, poison or not, I’m up for some food.” Ron rubbed his grumbling middle, “Next stop before the sign up?”

“Lead the way.”




Thanks to Ron’s own dark detector of sorts, his nose, they were able to find the concession stands in no time flat. Luckily, it was right next to the dueling stage, so they could have dinner and a show. They sat down at one of the many long tables and enjoyed a basket of chips and a pint of ice-cold butterbeer a piece; there was plenty of entertainment to be had.

Performing on stage was a group of auror hopefuls demonstrating the Innuo curse, which when used properly, caused the victim to glaze over and do whatever is asked of them. In theory, it would make apprehending a criminal much easier, one of them explained.

“Is that legal?” Ernie McMilliman, who was sitting a few place down, asked the demonstrator.

“It’s not to be confused with the Imperius curse,” He replied, “because the caster has no direct control over the victim; he merely offers directions that are highly suggestible but done by their own free will.”

To better clarify, the wizard asked for a volunteer from the crowd. Moments later, Zacharias Smith proudly joined the lot on stage. After reassuring Zacharias and the audience that no harm would come to him and that he wouldn’t do anything he chose not to do, the wizard cast the spell. The effect was instantaneous, although hard to see at first.

“What would you have him do?” The young wizard asked, he looked vaguely familiar, reminding him of a Ravenclaw seventh year he saw in his first.

“Act like a bunny.” A girl called out.

“Sing like an opera star.” Called an older witch.

“Disco!” Shouted another, Harry had the feeling that it was a planted suggestion.

“He looks like he can lay down a groove,” The wizard said sizing him up, “Maestro?”

Over an old, enchanted phonograph came the blaring beat and a male, or was it female, voice.

“Dance.” The hopeful told his volunteer.

Right to the beat he struck his first pose, his arms darted out at opposite angles, pointing skyward with one and to the ground with the other and shook his hips back and forth to the squeals of all the girls below him before changing sides and repeating.

“Ugh, vot hiss.” Ron groaned through a mouthful of chips, “M’um ikes hiss stooff.”

“The muggles like it too; I suppose it’s a crossover.” Harry agreed but found the lyrics rather catchy.

By now Zacharias was on a roll, he had taken off his jacket and swung it wildly over his head, still gyrating and failing his arms around. Harry thought he looked as if he were trying to start a stubborn lawn mower.

Ron chuckled, “I hope that’s the only thing he twirls around his head.”

“It’s Loser’s Lurgy alright, and a bad case of it too.” Luna’s lofty voice floated behind them, Harry thought she mistook Zacharias’s outrageous dance moves for a fit rage. “He should see someone about it before it gets worse.”

“Hey, Luna.” Harry greeted her warmly, “Great job on the match today. Having a good time?”

“Oh, yes.” She dug through a plastic, drawstring shopping bag and pulled out a pamphlet to show them. “Did you know that Koppelcants can breed twice a month and can produce thousands of young and that they feed on hair products causing them to become toxic. Over time your hair will fall out with no hope of re-growth, no matter what spell or potion is used.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Harry tried very hard to take her seriously. “I’ll chuck all out all my hair products straight away.”

“You have hair products?” Ron questioned him, nearly spitting out his butterbeer.

Harry ignored him and was saved by Luna’s response.

“If you do, they don’t work very well, do they.” She said, eyeing his unruly thatch of jet-black hair. “It’s obvious that Hermione doesn’t and Ginny too, I would hate for them to fall victim to such a creature. I’m personally banning them from my personal hygiene regiment.”

Ron clasped his hands over his mouth and had turned a brilliant shade red; he was shaking like mad.

“Ronald,” Luna examined him closely, “You need to go and visit that tent, I think you might be suffering from Tonsilviculociosis. Here, take my brochure.”

“I’ll make sure we add it to our list.” Harry agreed, finding the situation quite entertaining.

“And don’t be snogging Lavender,” She said ambling down the aisle, a few people nearby snickered. “It’s contagious.”

When the violent shade of red return to a bright pink and the trembling subsided, Ron finally dropped his hands and said, “Just when you think you’ve got her figured out.”

“That’s Luna for you. I wouldn’t have her any other way.” Harry laughed, “She could be right, you know.”

“You don’t have to worry about Lavender.” Ron shuddered.

“I was talking about the hair.” Harry smirked and returned his attention to the stage where Smith’s one-man cabaret was winding down. “I don’t think he’ll regret this one bit.”

“Nah, not at all.” Ron returned, singing the lyrics right along with Harry.

“At least it’s fitting.” Harry said and raised his mug, “To stay’n alive.”

Over the deafening applause, Ron and Harry wound their way to the dueling sign up booth. Ron was terribly disappointed to learn that he wasn’t able to pick who he was going up against, but had his spirits lifted when he saw McLaggen’s name three spaces above his own.

“It’ll be in about an hour’s time.” The ministry official told them. “We’ll call your name once, if there’s no answer, we’re moving on. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.” And that was it.

“Where to now?” Harry asked, glancing briefly at a poster sized map. “There’s a workshop on defensive techniques and one on magical first-aid, might be a good idea. Tonks taught me Episkey, it’s come in a handy.”

“Yeah, let’s give it a try.”

Halfway to their destination, they came across an official ministry booth and hurried past, both having their own reasons for avoiding it. Harry had seen their former Professor, the once self-proclaimed High Inquisitor and the record holder for shortest tenure a Headmaster or Headmistress that Hogwarts had ever endured: The unforgettably evil, simpering, frilly-bow wearing, viciously sweet, Dolores Umbridge. If there was anything good that had come from her or by her lethal saccharine behavior, it was the D.A. and as far as Harry was concerned, that was it. He had no idea of how Dumbledore even allowed her back on the grounds.

Ron, however, didn’t get off so easily.

“Ronald.” A snooty red head with horned rimmed glasses approached them. “I heard you and Harry spent the early afternoon inside the simulation arena.”

“Yeah, what about it, Percy?” Ron muttered, clearly still at odds with the wayward Weasley.

“Oh nothing in particular, I was told that you and your friends lost to three girls, one of which was our sister.”

“And?” Ron’s patience was thin.

“I expected better from you.” Harry had a feeling that he was included in that comment. “The Minister is very interested to see how the so-called Chosen One and his cohorts work under pressure, since the both of you tend to find yourselves in trouble with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and manage to escape relatively unscathed.”

“And what did he conclude?” Ron bit back, his temper rising. “Not up to scratch, I suppose.”

“I haven’t sent the report yet.” Percy bounced on his heels, shaking a small piece of parchment in his hands, “But I’m sure his expectations, like mine, will be lower."

“Not as-“

“Let’s go, Ron, we don’t have much time.” Harry pulled him away, if he hadn’t thought better of it, he would have jinxed the git himself.

“Good luck.” Percy turned and watched them leave, raising his hand all importantly like he was the minister himself.

After a few choice words concerning his brother, Ron had settled down.

“I’m not the one disappointing everyone.” He hissed, his confidence wounded by the encounter. “I’m not the best, Harry, but I’m not… I'm not that.”

“You have nothing to prove to me, Mate.” Harry would take Ron over Percy any day.

“Go- go- go.” Ron had seen more trouble approaching through the crowd and took measures to hide themselves, pushing Harry from behind. They seemed to be doing that a lot today.

Finding the quickest way out, Harry and Ron crossed the narrow grass alley between two large exhibit tents. They had successfully slipped out of Lavender’s line of sight and Parvati didn’t seem to notice either. Harry knew the last thing Ron needed was another telling off. They pulled back the heavy maroon canvas of a tent two aisles down, far enough away from where they left the girls.

“Looks promising.” Ron poked his head through the slit and surveyed its contents. “I think it’s safe.”

“Must be a backroom of sorts.” Harry nudged one of the many empty boxes scattered about the ground with his toe.

“Oh, no!” Ron groaned, flipping over one of the cardboard boxes and showing it to Harry. Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheeze’s was printed on the side, in bold maroon letters, along with the full address of premises and what looked to be a content label reading Parachute Pantaloons.

“I’d like to see that used in combat.” Harry smirked, imagining several of the ministry’s top aurors gliding back towards terra firma in large, billowing trousers.

“Better just not to ask, mate.” Ron set the box down and edged his way back to the gap of fabric in which they came.

“Oh, come on.” Harry skirted around a tall stack of boxes, “Let’s make our way to the front, maybe we’ll run into them.”

Ron rolled his eyes at the idiocy of Harry’s suggestion but followed him closer to the front nonetheless, careful not to knock into any of the boxes. He had lived with Fred and George long enough to know that if it looks innocent, it’s probably not.

“I thought I heard someone back here,” Fred snickered, catching the culprits of all the racket. “I didn’t expect it to be you two gits.”

“Whatever,” Ron fired back, “just show us the door.”

“A bit cranky today, isn’t he?” Fred said under his breath while sliding a stack of boxes apart so that Harry and Ron could pass through more easily. Harry merely arched his eyebrows and cracked a grimace, Fred knew the answer.

“Ran into our dear brother,” he whispered knowingly, “didn’t he?”

Harry nodded.

“How’d you get in, anyway?” He asked brightly.

“Left a bit of a gap in the back,” Ron squeezed through the final stacks muttering, “Lucky it was us, anybody else would….”

Peeling back the cloth divide, Fred directed them through it. “So, Harry, what can we interest you today with?”

“Haven’t the foggiest.” He smirked, “But I’m sure you’ll find something.”

“Well, well, well!” George pompously called over his shoulder when they reached the front counter; he had just finished a sale and was putting the gallon safely inside a metal box. “I wondered what that smell was, Eau de Dungbomb? I don’t see how your girlfriend can stand it, little brother.”

“Shut up.” Ron shot back. Harry caught a glimpse of Fred mouthing ‘Percy’ and an obvious frown from George.

“Since you’ve wondered through our fine establishment already, let’s get down to business, shall we?” Fred joined his brothers’ side looking eager to show off their latest wares to their sole investor and reluctant part owner.

“I’ll just wait outside, Harry.” Ron mumbled.

“No, no…” Fred was the first to extend the invitation and fished out a small box from deep within his maroon robes.

“Stay.” George continued the volley.

“You might find this-“

“Useful.” They said in unison, both with equally devious grins.

“No funny business?” Ron asked; it was more of a request than a question.

“What?” George choked on the word.

“We own a joke shop, we are funny business.” Fred finished perfectly serious.

“I knew you two...” Ron gave them both a disgusted look before turning on heel for the exit.

“No funny business?” Harry spoke up, feeling Ron’s frustrations and guessing that he had hit his daily limit of ribbing.

“No, we’re completely serious today.” Fred’s brow furrowed in a feeble attempt to convince the two of them of their sincerity.

“Dumbledore wouldn’t let us come if we weren’t-“

“On a leash?” Ron took the moment to take a jab back at his brothers.

Covering his heart like it had been run clean through, George hissed, “Ouch, that hurt.”

“Truce.” Fred held out his open hand; a small, iridescent, pea-like green bead nestled in the crease of his palm.

“What exactly is that?” Harry asked, eager to get the sibling squabble, although highly amusing at times, behind them.

“This little wonder,” George started, gently picking it up out of his brother’s hand, “is the M-180, what we’ve coined as the Green Meany.”

“It was a stroke of pure inspiration, a work of genius-“ Fred oozed with accolades over the tiny bead and its inception.

“Oh, come now…” George waived them off with an air that only Lockhart himself could muster on spot. Careful not to jostle the bead held firmly between his thumb and forefinger on his left hand. He stopped when Ron’s patience started to wane, signaled by a low rumbling growl.

“The Green Meany?” Harry stepped closer and examined the tiny orb. “What does it do?”

“Why, we we’re just hoping you would ask.” Fred flicked his wand at the tent entrance, effectively sealing it up and guaranteeing that they would not be disturbed by other students or members of the public brave enough to attend.

Muffliato” Harry took it one step further.

“Thank you.” Fred nodded.

“I was lying in bed late one evening, just after an intense meeting with a certain secret society of do-gooders of which I happen to belong, and like all men of mischief, I wanted to express my displeasure about the latest events of a not-so-secret society of dark wizards.” George paused for effect, (apparently, it was mark of a true salesman) and took a deep, self-important breath and continued. “Anyway, while going over eye witness accounts from the latest barrage of attacks, I discovered a key element, and thus the Green Meany was born.”

“How bad have the attacks been?” Harry asked. “How often? Malfoy?”

“Harry, it’s nothing they haven’t dealt with before.” Fred tried to diffuse him. “It’s a fluid situation, but we’re doing the best we can.”

George roughly cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him and his latest invention.

“As I was saying, I noticed a pattern. It just hit me and I knew we could use it against them.”

“Will you get on with it?” Ron huffed, “Just tell us what it does.”

“Patience, little brother, patience.” Fred smirked.

“What is the one thing all Death Eaters have in common?” The eldest of the two, by a minute-thirty, asked.

“Besides a psychotic disposition for torture and murder?” Harry quipped. “The Dark Mark, maybe?”

“No, think broader.” Fred urged them on.

“Well, most of them are from Slytherin house.” Ron shrugged; it was the best he could come up with at the moment.

“Bravo!” The twins echoed, pleased that Ron had answered correctly.

“Exactly, and what do all Slytherins pride themselves on?”

“Themselves.” Harry was catching on but was still unsure of how this would lead to the little green bead.

“Correct again!”

“Inside this capsule is a highly potent Confundus charm mixed with a bit of what we like to call the ‘Aroma of Arrogance’.”

“They’ve been dipping into their own stash.” Ron whispered out the side of his mouth to Harry.

“All you have to do is throw the Green Meany at your attacker as a last-resort escape route and wait for the moment.” George pretended to flick it across the room.


“And exactly what is that moment?” Ron sounded doubtful.

“When they start to monologue.” Fred said simply, “Every evil wizard in history has ranted about their own greatness. What’s the point of being evil if you can’t tell everybody about it?”

“Absolutely.” George agreed with Fred, trying to convince Harry and Ron of the brilliancy.

“No way!” Ron snorted, “It’ll never work.”

“Maybe they’re on to something.” Harry started to see the exposed flaw. “Voldemort always talks about himself... just before he tries to kill me.”

“See! They can’t help themselves.” Fred was sounding more and more like the fork salesman.

“So how do you know it works?” Ron, though he wouldn’t admit it, was interested in the small bead.

“We always try our latest products out on ourselves.” George began, “And it works, doesn’t it Fred?”

“Flawlessly.” Fred took the bead from George and safely tucked in back inside the box, returning it to the breast pocket of his robes. “You see, after multiple trials on ourselves, we decided to really put our lives in danger.”

“You went looking for Death Eaters?” Harry asked incredulously.

“No, of course not,” Fred laughed, “we had a go at Mum.”

“You are stupid.” Ron snorted.

“You should have been there, it was one for the history books.” George fondly lit up at the memory of it. “We came downstairs one morning after checking the supplies in our old room-“

“Mum was where she always is, in the kitchen.” Fred joined in.

“We said good morning-“

“Made nice chit-chat using all the manners we posses.”

“Asked how she was doing today, if there was anything she needed help with.”

“We knew she was going into town with Fleur later in the afternoon.”

Harry could see a hint of pink in Ron’s cheeks and the mention of his future Sister-in-law. He was getting better.

“Anyway, Mum asked if we had seen Bill today.” Fred’s smile grew.

“Why, that’s funny you should ask, Mum.” George said innocently to Fred, re-enacting the scene.

“Funny is it?” Fred screwed up his face, imitating Mrs. Weasley, his voice a squeaky falsetto. “What have you done?”

“Always accusing.” George huffed, “It wasn’t us, directly.”

“George!” Fred had hunched over a bit, placing a hand on his hip.

“Bill has discovered that he has developed an allergy, Mum, it is spring, you know.” George stepped to the left, giving the impression that he was now Fred. “He’s sneezing, wheezing, swollen and red.” Stepping back to the right he added, while Fred placed another hand on his hip and eyed him sharply, “Lumpy, bumpy, and covered in boils.”

“What did you do!” Fred, despite the fact that he was male and half again as tall as his mother, advanced on a dramatically cowering George, who was playing both parts in their impromptu production.

“You could call it a flower allergy.” George shrunk even lower and after pretending to toss an invisible Green Meany, stepped back to the right. “Bill is allergic to Fleur.”

Upon the imagined impact, Fred’s eyes fluttered slightly and his direct anger at George took an odd twist.

“After all the things I do for you. I carried you, the both of you ingrates, for nine months! My feet swollen, back aching… I got as big as a house, all just to bring you lot into this world. I’ve feed you, cleaned you, rocked you to sleep and kissed and hugged the both of you until the tears would stop.”

By now, Fred was pacing in circles, paying more attention to what he was saying then what George was doing.

“Your father and I have put up with your shenanigans for so many years now that patience is a virtue we no longer posses because we’ve run plum dry giving it all out to you! From lighting fire to Percy’s books to turning Ron’s old ratty teddy bear into a large hairy spider in the middle of the night!” Fred was on a roll, Harry and Ron watched, completely glued to the rant.

“Now all I do is sit and worry that my babies, all of my babies, are in harms way. See that clock…See it!” Fred yelled to the sky, “It’s been on Mortal Danger! Mortal Danger! I’ve been on pins and needles since I don’t know how long, hoping, praying that each and every one of you makes it through this! And this is what I get for it. My eldest son has found love, and even though I don’t exactly see what he does… love is a funny thing… I’m happy for him. And now you two have the gall- the audacity- to ruin it for him! I swear, as my hair is red…..”

“See what I mean.” Harry and Ron both jumped, George had crept behind them during Mrs. Weasley’s monologue. “It’s why we call it the M-180…”

“The Green Meany.” Harry said in awe, realizing its potential. “So what ever happened to your Mum?”

“Dunno, we left.” George laughed, watching Fred continue to pace and gesture wildly. “I wasn't sticking around to see how it turned out. I’m sure she’s okay, though... I think.”

“What!” Ron snapped.

“Of course she’s fine, the spell wore off two minutes later and she completely forgot the entire situation. Fred and I took her out to lunch before she was to meet up with Fleur. After all she’s done for us, which we would’ve never known the extent of if it wasn’t for our experiment, it was the least we could do.”

Fred had rejoined them, slightly out of breath, and sober. “We’ve gained a new respect for Mum.”

“Lucky she didn’t kill you.” Sniggered Ron, “How much?”

“Out of your price range, but Harry can have a couple on the house, once it goes into full production, of course.” George said with a wink, wrapping his arm around Harry’s neck and directing him to a counter on the other side of the tent that was laid out with various items of different shapes and sizes. He recognized a few of them from his tour of the backroom last summer.

“Thanks a lot.” Ron’s murmured, trailing behind his brothers and best mate.

They ended up spending so much time with Fred and George that both forgot about the duel they had signed up for, but considering their encounter with Percy, maybe a public duel under the ministry's watchful eye wasn't such a good idea in the first place. McLaggen would have to wait. When their tent was filled with customers, Harry and Ron said their good-byes.





The sun was going down and a good portion of the vendor tents had been dismantled, only leaving indentations in the grass where they once had stood, most of the remaining action was going on at the main stage. They met up with Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Seamus, and Dean on the southern side. The same group of auror hopefuls dueled against each other in time to the newest Weird Sisters single, in an odd sort of battle-like dance. A pixie-sized witch with long blonde hair cast an unusual shielding charm.

“What is that?” Ron asked Hermione, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s an orbital shield, Orbis Contego.” Hermione smiled and moved closer so that she could speak into his ear over the music and cheers of the crowd. “Follows you around, doesn’t last very long, and depends on how much you’ve been hit. I’m going to give a try later.”

“Yeah, definitely should try that one out.” He said, leaning down towards her face and ear.

“I’m going inside.” Lavender huffed, looking absolutely murderous, and stormed off with Parvati hanging on her arm. Harry and obviously, Ron, had no idea that she was there.

“Moving...” Harry heard Ron mumble.


“Are you staying for the dance and fireworks?” Ginny had found her way over to ask him. “Fred and George are running it, should be fun.”

“Yeah, I was planning on it, at least for the fireworks.” Harry lingered by her ear, guiltily drinking her in.

“Good, then I’m using my leverage.” Ginny grinned.

“I’m at your mercy.” Harry had no qualms about surrendering to Ginny, he would take any excuse he could get to spend more time with her and appease the creature in his chest. “What do you want?”

“A dance.” Ginny whispered in his ear, sending a jolt up his spine. “You choose, but a dance.”

“Ginny, I’m no good. I can’t dance to save my life.” This was not what he had expected.

“I know, I’ve seen you move… or shake… or convulse.. Whatever it is you do.” She shot back wickedly. “I realize that I’ll be taking my life into my own hands, but I figure it’s worth the risk.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad.” He scoffed, catching her smile with his.

“Then we have a deal?” Ginny offered her hand, sliding it through the narrow gap that separated them.

“Deal.” She was infectious and the creature would not let him refuse her.

There was a loud explosion and a cascade of glittering, silver lights erupted over the stage and viewing area, simultaneously ending the duel and beginning the closing festivities. Ginny jumped closer into Harry, but stepped away and back to Dean.

Ron’s right,’ He thought as he watched his friends.

Neville and Luna were both bouncing to the music. Neville, he had noticed, improved a great deal and was actually pretty good. And now that he understood Luna better, he counted himself lucky to have such a friend, even with all the unusual quirks. Ron, who had for the moment shaken off the heartache he had brought on Lavender and himself and the knowledge of what he must do to end it for the both of them, enjoyed the company of Hermione, strengthening their renewed friendship after months of strain, and at the same time mending their close-knit trio. Too bad it almost took him dying for them to reconcile. His attention returned to Ginny, who flowed like the free spirit she was, laughing and spinning under the shimmering lights.

Things are moving.’
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