girlyswot: (charlie weasley)
[personal profile] girlyswot



Overwhelmed by Fred and George


Bill held the door open for Christy to pass through into the yard… no, garden, she corrected herself. She blinked at the bright sunshine and stood where she was for a moment while her eyes grew accustomed. A huge table under an ancient oak tree was being laid by three women all of whom clearly had their own ideas about how best to fit twenty people round it. Christy smiled as she noticed Hermione quietly rearranging all the place mats in the middle without entering into discussion. There seemed to be people everywhere she looked. Children of all ages were running and screaming, laughing and jumping. Ron was diving to catch a Quaffle that one of his nephews had tried to throw past him. She counted four… five… no, six red-headed men. Some were tall and some were broad. All sported the characteristic Weasley freckles Christy had come to recognise. And she could quite see why they were eating outside. No room could possibly hope to contain all that vibrant masculinity.

###

With Percy on one side and Hermione on the other, Christy was quite enjoying herself. At least four different conversations were going on round the table, most of them at full volume, and most of them utterly incomprehensible. Molly Weasley, she noticed, seemed to be able to track all of them at once. Or maybe she just had a sixth sense that told her whenever one of her children needed putting right.

‘No, Bill, it was Charlie’s third birthday… Ron, have you had any cabbage? Hermione, make sure Ron eats his greens… I saw that article in the Prophet, Percy. I really think you should have a word with… George! Don’t do that…’

From across the table one of the brothers she didn’t know grinned broadly at her and raised his eyebrows behind his mother’s back.

‘Fred!’ Apparently she had eyes in the back of her head. Well, she probably needed to, raising a houseful of kids like this.

‘So, Christy.’ The other twin was smiling at her from the end of the table where most of the children were sitting. ‘Tell us what it’s like working for old Perce.’

Christy looked nervously at the Minister and then quickly at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly.

‘It’s fine,’ she said.

The twin she was fairly sure was Fred replied earnestly. ‘No, no. We want more than that. Does he make you call him Sir?’

‘And do you have to bow and scrape every time he enters the room?’

‘Is there a red carpet leading into his office?’

‘Or a large portrait of him with a big gold frame round it?’

Everyone else had stopped to listen now. Most of them were looking at Percy who was smiling casually enough, but Christy could see his grip tighten round his knife and fork. He didn’t like the teasing.

‘He’s been very kind and helpful,’ she stated firmly.

‘Oooh,’ said Fred. Or possibly George.

‘Kind,’ put in the other one.

‘And helpful.’

‘Sounds to me like…’

‘…someone has a little crush.’ Christy pushed back her chair, blushing furiously. Her napkin had fallen to the floor and she bent down to find it. What if they asked her outright? Because, if truth be told, she thought she just might have a little, tiny sliver of something that resembled a crush. And she didn’t need that kind of complication. Not while she was still hoping to persuade the Ministry to give her a permanent contract.

‘Well, Perce?’ When Christy reappeared, the twins were still lounging on their chairs, directing identical wicked grins towards their brother.

‘Are you kind and helpful to every young witch who works at the Ministry?’

‘Or just the pretty ones?’

Percy put down his cutlery with a clatter. ‘Now that’s enough,’ he blustered. ‘Christy is a temporary employee at the Ministry of Magic and I should have thought even you two could show a little consideration to a visitor here.’

George, or possibly Fred, turned a surprisingly earnest gaze to Christy. ‘Sorry darling. But you’ve got to know, Percy’d be mad not to fancy a gorgeous girl like you.’

'Quite right,' agreed his twin. 'We'd never get anything done if you worked for us.'

Something inside of her melted in a most unexpected way. She bit her lip and picked up her wine glass, just for something to do. Mike had never paid her compliments like that. Not just telling her easily and straightforwardly that he liked the way she looked. She used to tell herself it was because he was a modern wizard. Liberated. Not just judging witches by the size of their chest. But George and Fred Weasley thought she was gorgeous. And said so. And Christy found that she liked it. An irrepressible smile began to blossom and form into a giggle.

###

Well that was ridiculous. She’d never been a giggly girl and she didn’t see why she should start at her age. Christy shook her head and resolved to stick to the pumpkin juice from now on. The men had started talking about Quidditch so she turned to Hermione, hoping for some more rational conversation.

‘Are you okay?’ Hermione asked her in a concerned whisper. ‘The twins didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just how they are.’

Christy nodded. ‘I can see that. I’m fine.’

‘Good.’

‘What sort of work do they do? I’m just curious,’ she added hastily. ‘I can’t imagine them in an office all day.’

Hermione laughed. ‘No. They run a shop on Diagon Alley. Guess what kind?’

Christy looked from one laughing, teasing face to the other. Books? Wands? Clothes? She shook her head. ‘I can’t imagine.’

‘Jokes.’

‘Jokes?’ Christy repeated blankly.

‘Yes, you know. Fake wands, dungbombs, screaming yoyos. Stuff that kids like to spend all their pocket money on.’

‘Ah. Well that makes sense.’

Hermione glanced across at her brothers-in-law who were conjuring everyone’s napkins into ducks and geese and setting the children to catch them.

‘Yes. But don’t be fooled. They’re as sharp as anything when it comes to business. They have more gold than anyone else at this table.’ She frowned. ‘Maybe not Harry. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. They’re brilliant.’

‘Did they fight in the War, too?’

‘Of course. We all did. Even Percy.’

‘Even Percy?’

Hermione frowned slightly. ‘Yes. Look, I’ll tell you about that later, okay? But Fred and George… Well, they were amazing. They’d just opened their shop but they spent all their time developing defensive products to be used in the War. Shield Cloaks and Disguise Charms. Specially adapted invisible Extendable Ears for our spies. Clever magic, brilliantly executed, perfectly reliable. We couldn’t have done it without them.’

‘And they fought too? Or they just did the research?’ They didn’t seem the type to hide in the back room.

‘No, they fought. They... well, I suppose I could just tell you now. They saved Percy’s life. They went in to rescue him when the Death Eaters had captured him. I don’t know if anyone else would have dared. Not right then and there, without stopping to think, like they did. Especially after the way Percy had been.’

Christy raised a questioning eyebrow.

Hermione looked round to check that no one else was listening in. Briefly she explained how Percy had behaved at the start of the war. ‘But as soon as we found out that he’d been taken, the twins went to get him back. I still don’t know exactly how they did it.’

###

The rest of the grown ups had fetched brooms and balls and were cheerfully arguing about Quidditch teams. Christy watched as Bill took charge, selecting his wife and sister. Fred and George always played together, it seemed. That left Percy, Harry and Ron. Fred leaned out to clap his older brother on the shoulder, making some remark which Christy couldn’t hear but which made everyone smile and Percy flush a little bit pink as he went to stand with his brothers. Bill took Ron, leaving Harry to join the others. Someone threw the Quaffle in the air and the game began noisily and excitedly.

‘They’re so lucky,’ Christy murmured to herself.

‘Yes, they are.’

She turned to see an amused Hermione still sitting beside her.

‘They’re all so different, but…’

‘They love each other.’

‘Yes. That’s it, I suppose.’

‘You didn’t have a large family, did you?’

‘Just me and Mom. I can’t imagine what it must have been like growing up in a house with six children.’

‘Seven,’ Hermione corrected her. ‘You haven’t met Charlie yet.’

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