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╰┈➤ ❝ [𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝑊𝑂] ❞ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
⁺⤾·˚.⃗. [ ᴍᴀʏʜᴇᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʀʀᴏᴡ ] 𑁍ࠜೄ ･ﾟˊˎ
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

The Burrow
Village of Ottery St Catchpole
- Devon, England
( August, 1994. )

𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖. Olympia and Cassiopeia had spent that last half hour sitting in Ginny's room talking. Meanwhile Fred and George had escaped to their room, more than likely to try and conceal any more of their Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

Olympia and Cassie made their way down the rickety staircase, and down the windy hallway. There Mrs. Weasley stood alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered. A few moments later Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny joined them in the doorway.

"We're eating out in the garden," she said when they came in. "There's just not room for fifteen people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two," she said to Ron and Harry, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she snapped, now directing her wand at a dustpan, which hopped off the sideboard and started skating across the floor, scooping up the potatoes.

"Those two!" She burst out savagely, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard, and they all knew she meant Fred and George. "I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't. No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can...."

Mrs. Weasley slammed a large copper saucepan down on the kitchen table and began to wave her wand around inside it. A creamy sauce poured from the wand tip as she stirred.

"It's not as though they haven't got brains, she continued irritably, taking the saucepan over to the stove and lighting it with a further poke of her wand, "but they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble. I've had more owls from Hogwarts about them than the rest put together. If they carry on the way they're going, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office." She ranted.

Olympia and Cassie uncomfortably shifted in their spots, hating to hear such things said about their best friends. But knowing that they couldn't say a thing. Calling Ron out was one thing, but Mrs. Weasley? Oy that'd be completely mental.

Mrs. Weasley jabbed her wand at the cutlery drawer, which shot open. The children jumped out of the way as several knives soared out of it, flew across the kitchen, and began chopping the potatoes, which had just been tipped back into the sink by the dustpan.

"I don't know where we went wrong with them," said Mrs. Weasley, putting down her wand and starting to pull out still more saucepans. "It's been the same for years, one thing after another, and they won't listen to - OH NOT AGAIN!" She had picked up her wand from the table, and it had emitted a loud squeak and turned into a giant rubber mouse. "One of their fake wands again!" she shouted. "How many times have I told them not to leave them lying around?" she grabbed her real wand and turned around to find that the sauce on the stove was smoking.

"C'mon," Ron said hurriedly to the group, seizing a handful of cutlery from the open drawer, "let's go and help Bill and Charlie."

They left Mrs. Weasley in her rage and headed out the back door into the yard.

They had only gone a few paces when Hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat, Crookshanks, came pelting out of the garden, bottle-brush tail held high in the air, chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs. The gnomes had infested the Weasley's garden a few months ago. Barely ten inches high, its horny little feet pattered very fast as it sprinted across the yard and dived headlong into one of the Wellington boots that lay scattered around the door.

Olympia could hear the gnome giggling madly as Crookshanks inserted a paw into the boot, trying to reach it. Meanwhile, a very loud crashing noise was coming from the other side of the house. The source of the commotion was revealed as they entered the garden, and saw that Bill and Achilles both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Atlas and Charlie were cheering, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was hovering near the hedge, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety.

Bill's table caught Achille's with a huge bang and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and they all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor. "Will you keep it down?!" he bellowed.

"Sorry, Perce," said Bill half heartedly, grinning up at his younger brother.

"How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?" Atlas called out.

"Very badly," said Percy peevishly, and he slammed the window shut. Chuckling, Bill and Achilles directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎'𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking. It was her staple, chicken and ham pie, boiled potatoes, and salad. Along with a giant platter of heart shaped cookies.

Olympia curiously glanced to the empty seat next to her. George was yet to get to arrive to the table. He was barely late. She leaned toward Fred, whom sat one seat over from her, next to George's empty one.

"Where is he?" She questioned, Fred opened his mouth to answer but before he got a word out a hand laid atop Olympia's shoulder.

"Right there." Fred answers sarcastically, George peered down at Olympia with a widened grin.

Olympia noticed his hair was slightly damp, he had bathed. . . That's why he was late.

Olympia simply looked down to her plate, attempting to hide the soft smile that danced along her lips.

George noticed her soft smile, so did Fred. As he sat down next to her, he looked to Fred with a victorious smirk.

In the middle of the table, Mrs. Weasley was arguing with Bill about his earring, which seemed to be a recent acquisition. " . . . with a horrible great fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?"

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," said Bill patiently.

"Language." Mr. Weasley called out to his son.

"And your hair's getting silly, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly. "I wish you'd let me give it a trim. . . you two need one too." She pointed her wand at Fred and George, except no longer not so lovingly.

"I like it," said Ginny, who was sitting beside Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Mum. Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's. . ."

Fred and George ignored their mother's comment. Out of sheer irritation at his mother, George's grips on his fork tightened, his knuckles whitening.

Fred noticed his twin's frustration, he felt it too - their mum had been up their arses all summer. It was one thing to call them out in private. But it was just embarrassing to do it in front of others. She pushed them relentlessly to follow their father's footsteps and join the ministry. Fred and George loathed the idea. Sitting in an office all day doing nothing they truly had a passion for? It sounded like pure torture.

"So," Fred broke the tension, "who do you reckon will win?"

"It's got to be Ireland," said Charlie thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semifinals."

"Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though," said Fred.

"Krum's one decent player, Ireland has got seven," argued Charlie shortly. "I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was."

"What happened?" said Harry eagerly, regretting more than ever his isolation from the wizarding world when he was stuck on Privet Drive.

"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg."

Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had their homemade strawberry ice cream, paired with heart shaped cookies, and by the time they had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. Olympia was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as she watched several gnomes sprinting through the rosebushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks. Mrs. Weasley hated the lil buggers, they were pests to her vegetables, but Olympia found them downright adorable.

"Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, if you leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time."

"Wow - hope it does this time!" said Harry enthusiastically.

"Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred.

"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!"said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"

"It was," George whispered to Olympia as they got up from the table. "We sent it." He and Fred said in sync.

Olympia couldn't help but snicker. Percy definitely deserved it. Ever since he graduated and got that job at the ministry he had been an entirely different Percy than she remembered.

"I can't believe the two of you have to sleep on the floor because of his work." Olympia sneered angrily as she, Fred, George, and Cassie made their ways into the burrow.

"They told you about that ey?" George sighed, a look of embarrassment flashing across his face. "It's just for one night it's not a big deal." He added.

"But it is." Olympia set her plate down into the sink with a loud clank, "you're not dogs!" Her tone immediately quieted as the rest of the group entered through the doorway.

"Tell her that. She barks enough orders at us that we may as well be." Fred muttered lowly under his breath. Only loud enough for the four of them to hear.

George sighed, setting his plates down, and with a flick of his wand wiped them, and all the other dishes in the sink clean - in an attempt to avoid their mother adding another bullet into the already smoking gun.

Olympia instantly reached into the sink, pulling the now clean dishes out and using the dish towel next to the sink to dry them. "Thanks." George smiled to her, picking up another dish towel from the cabinet to help her.

Cassie and Hermione hurried up the stairs, whispering and giggling to Ginny about something. Ron and Harry followed close after, trying hopelessly to get the girls to explain whatever it is they were giggling about.

"I've gotta beat Percy to the bath if I want any hot water." Fred announced, leaving the kitchen.

Suddenly, more and more dishes began piling up on the counter as the lot of em came in from dinner. "Ah Olympia how kind of you!" Mrs. Weasley thanked, ignoring George's efforts. He let out a sharp inhale, dropping the dish towel in hand at the sight of all the extra dishes dropped off. Olympia whipped out her wand, levitating the plates from the counter and into the sink.

"Goodnight deary." She kissed Olympia on the forehead, ignoring George, and walking straight to her room.

Mr. Weasley sighed, gently laying a hand on George's lower back. "Thank you." He said sincerely to his son, offering him a weak smile.

"Goodnight." George simply dismissed father, feeling downright hurt by his own mother. And angry at his father for her even finding out in the first place.

Mr. Weasley sighed, following after Molly into their bedroom.

Olympia would usually have something to say, as she often did, so before she had the chance George went ahead and warned "now's not the time for a shitty comment."

Olympia's mouth parted, "George I wasn't going to~"

"Sorry." George interrupted her, immediately feeling bad for his actions. "That was a shitty comment." He faulted himself in reference to his own words about his own statement.

Olympia chuckled, "yes it was."

The two silently dried the dishes, glancing back and forth and sharing a smile every now and then.

Olympia longed to reach out and give him a hug, she could tell how much this truly affected him, Fred too. They both got reminded on the daily how their mother found them disappointing. "George." She softly broke the silence.

"Hm?"

"You're not a disappointment. And I think your inventions are ingenious." Olympia stated.

George stopped midway through drying the last dish in hand, his breath hitching. Then, his shoulders dropped ever so slightly, and it was as if a huge burden had been lifted from him. "Thanks." He replied, his tone almost a whisper.

The two stared at one another, a silent tension floating in between them. George began to take a step closer to her before suddenly, the door from the back yard opened, revealing Bill, Achilles, and Charlie waltzing in, with a quaffle tucked neatly under Achilles arm. "Care to get a quick game of Quodpot in with us Georgie?"

"It's late." Olympia reminded, "and we're leaving at the ass crack of dawn so."

"Ols is right." George decided, putting up the last dish into the cabinet above him. "And I'm a bit tired anyway."

"If ya say so!" Charlie bellowed, the three men went back into the garden. Laughing into the night.

"I'm surprised." Olympia admitted, George looked over to her, raising a brow.

"About what?"

"You, making a mature decision to stay in." She pointed out.

When he wasn't in the presence of Fred, George seemed to be a bit more relaxed, far more mature even. Out of the two, Fred was the ring leader, George was the follower. But George never minded, he enjoyed sitting back while Fred spoke for the two of them.

"A year ago you'd be off with them right now, despite it being a bad decision."

"I'm full of surprises." George stated matter of factly.

Olympia glanced up at him, watching his eyes fixate on her, a smirk toying at the corner of her lips. He reached out, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She couldn't help but begin to feel butterflies beat around vigorously in her stomach, which was odd - George Weasley had never made her feel so, nervous. . . So, captivated.

George's amber brown gaze intertwined with her own soft blue eyes. "You're awfully flirty tonight." Olympia called him out, attempting to hide the fact that he made her nervous. He'd never let her live it down. But that's the funny thing, he could already tell. He saw right through her facade.

"I have no idea what you're implying." George responded coolly, playing innocent. Though in no situation was George Weasley ever innocent.

"Mhm sure." Olympia deadpanned with a soft chuckle, "well I better be off to bed. Long day ahead." She breathed out.

George nodded in agreement, "I'm gonna clean up a little more. I doubt it'll make a difference to her you know she's always - " he stopped, deciding against dampening the mood, "not important." He took a step forward, pulling Olympia into a hug, "goodnight Ols, sleep tight."

Olympia hugged him back, inhaling the sweet scent of cinnamon and spice. The Weasley's soap with cinnamon scented, if it wasn't obvious Molly had a favorite scent.

When she pulled away those same butterflies returned, fluttering around in her gut, beating against her ribcage as if begging to escape. "Goodnight." She said, pulling away from the hug and leaving the kitchen, down the windy hall, up the rickety staircase, and into Ginny's room.

The Burrow
Village of Ottery St Catchpole
- Devon, England
( August 29th, 1994. )

𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏. "Up, up, good-morning girls!" Mrs. Weasley stirred Olympias, Cassie, Ginny, and Hermione all awake. She left the room the second she saw them open their eyes - more than likely making the rounds to wake up the whole house.

Olympia groggily pulled her clothes on, her and Cass didn't share a word - it was barely four in the morning and entirely too early to chit chat.

Ginny let out an irritated groan, plopping her head back into her pillow. "Hermione and I will be down later." She mumbled.

Hermione stifled a yawn as she slowly crawled off of the air mattress on the floor and to her bag.

Olympia and Cassie headed out the room, the second they did so they crashed into Fred, George, Harry, Atlas, and Ron.

Fred and George reached out to steady Olympia and Cassie, who were still half asleep.

"Oy! Watch where you're going!" Ron muttered grumpily.

"Shut up Ron. It's too early." Cassie stated rudely, shoving past Ron and down the stairs.

They were met with the smell of warm cinnamon rolls and porridge. Mrs. Weasley stirred the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets.

They all sat down at the table, eyes squinted in exhaustion. "Where're Bill and Achilles and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy" said George, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" said Mrs. Weasley, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls, she then used her wand and dropped a cinnamon roll on each of their plates. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

"So they're still in bed?" said Fred grumpily, a hint of jealousy in his tone. He and George pulled theirs bowls of porridge toward themselves in perfect sync. "Why can't we Apparate too?"

"Because you're not of age and you haven't passed your test," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "And where is Hermione and Ginny?" She bustled out of the kitchen and they heard her climbing the stairs.

"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Harry asked, still lacking knowledge on a lot of the wizarding world and all its wonders.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. "The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a license. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."

Everyone around the table except Harry winced.

"Er, splinched?" questioned Harry.

"They left half of themselves behind," said Mr. Weasley, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind....."

"Were they okay?" he asked, startled.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley matter-of-factly. "But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms - slower, but safer."

"But Bill, Charlie, Achilles, and Percy can all do it?" Harry asked curiously.

"Charlie had to take the test twice," called out Fred, grinning. "He failed the first time. Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"

"Yes, well, he passed the second time," said Mrs. Weasley, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.

"Percy only passed two weeks ago," said George. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can."

There were footsteps down the passageway and Hermione and Ginny came into the kitchen, both looking pale and drowsy.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny complained, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table.

"We've got a bit of a walk," said Mr. Weasley.

"Walk?!" said Cass in a shock.

"What, are we walking to the World Cup?" Olympia added, sharing her twin's concern.

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way-"

Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed through the kitchen. "George!" interrupted Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody. He put his hands up in defense and sheer confusion.

"What is that in your pocket?" She demanded, grabbing his arm and forcing him up from the table. Fred's face visibly paled, the two were definitely hiding something.

"Nothing!" George defended, uncomfortably sharing a glance with Fred.

"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. She pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand. "We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

Fred and George let out exasperated sighs of pure mental exhaustion. They had worked hard on those taffies.

It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans. Who knows where else they had other things hidden.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away. George wore an expression of disdain upon his face.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!" She raised her wand, pointing it into the bin, "reducto!"

Fred and George's faces reddened, glancing around the room in shock before they both grabbed their plates and left the kitchen without another word.

Olympia and Cassie glanced pitifully after them, feeling downright awful about it all.

Even an hour later, the atmosphere was still unfriendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

"Well, have a lovely time, and behave yourselves," she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, Achilles, and Percy along around midday," Molly said to Arthur, as he, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Atlas, Cassie, Olympia and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer.

"Fred, George!" called out Cassie, the two girls jogging to catch up with them.

"I can't believe her!" The second they got next to them Fred immediately began ranting. "Did you know she still mixes us up? Father too! They both do!" Fred was fuming, his face red hot with anger, George said nothing, his eyes fixated on the ground as he walked. "I'm sick and tired of this!" He whisper yelled, so his father wouldn't hear since he wasn't too far behind.

George flinched at his twin's comment, visibly hurt at the fact.

"I mean we try and do something good yknow? Raise a little money. We need it, the whole family. George's shoes are tearing at the soles and Mum can't afford a new pair, but won't let us raise our own money!" Fred continued his ranting, with more than likely no end for a whole.

"I'm sorry." Olympia whispered to George, gently nudging his arm with her shoulder. He looked down offering only a weak smile in response. She could tell how much this affected him. That's how she knew the two were really truly hurting. Fred reacted with anger when he was hurt, George went silent.

Olympia and Cassie look to each other with sad expression, feeling horrible for how Fred and George were being treated. They were the last to even begin to deserve it.