The Potter Twins and the Goblet of Fire {4}

4. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

"So just take my hand, only seconds left, the clock's running, our time's coming" ~ Kings of the Weekend, Blink 182

I spin faster and faster, elbows tucked tightly to my sides as blurred fireplaces flash past me. Then, at last, as I feel myself slowing down, I throw out my hands and bring myself to a halt just in time to avoid falling face out of the Weasley's fireplace.

"Did he eat it?" Fred asks excitedly, holding out a hand to pull me to my feet.

"Yeah," I laugh, straightening myself up. "What was it?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," Fred explains brightly. "George and I invented them, we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer..."

The tiny kitchen explodes with laughter, just as Harry comes out of the fireplace behind me. I help him to his feet and look around the kitchen. Ron and Goerge are sitting at the scrubbed kitchen table with two red-haired people. I've never seen them before, but I know immediately who they must be; Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasleys.

"How're you doing, Haylee 'n Harry?" the nearer of the two asks, grinning at us and holding out a large hand. I shake it, feeling calluses and blisters under his fingers. It has to be Charlie, who works with dragons in Romania. He's built much like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who are both long and lanky. He has a broad, good-natured face, which is weather-beaten and so freckly that he looks tanned. His arms are huge and one of them has a large, shiny burn on it.

Bill gets to his feet, smiling, and also shakes our hands. Unlike Charlie, he comes as a surprise. I know that he works for Gringotts and that he was Head Boy at Hogwarts, so I've always imagined him to be a lot like Percy; fussy about rule-breaking and fond of bossing everyone around. However, Bill is - and there's absolutely no other way to describe it - cool.

He's tall, with long hair which is tied back in a ponytail and he's wearing an earring with what looks like a fang dangling from it. His clothes would not look out of place at a rock concert, except his boots seem to be made out of dragon hide, not leather.

Before any of us can say anything else, there is a faint popping noise, and Mr Weasley appears out of thin air at George's shoulder. He looks angrier than I've ever seen him.

"That wasn't funny, Fred!" he shouts. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," Fred says, with another evil grin. "I just dropped it...it was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" Mr Weasley roars. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet - "

"How big did his tongue get?" George asks eagerly.

"It was four foot long before his parents would let me shrink it!"

We all roar with laughter again.

"It isn't funny!" Mr Weasley shouts. "That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons - "

"We didn't give it to him because he was a Muggle!" Fred says indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," George agrees, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Isn't he, Haylee?"

"Yeah, he really is, Mr Weasley," I say earnestly.

"That's not the point!" rages Mr Weasley. "You wait until I tell your mother - "

"Tell me what?" says a voice behind them.

Mrs Weasley enters, with her usual kind face, although her eyes are narrowed with suspicion.