Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 18:2

They left Gryffindor Tower with the portrait of the Fat Lady reminding them that readmittance to Hogwarts was a privilege.

"Hear that, Fred?"

"That I did, George."

"You've nothing to fear. Sounds like you're off the hook," Lee mused. "For now, anyway. Everyone's been saying it."

"We don't really care who's responsible, so long as it's not us."

"And the Toilers of Trouble will be hanging up their hats for a yet undetermined time."

"Honestly, it's a shame. After pulling off such brilliant magic, you should get honors and merits, not a bad reputation. That vanishing step...inspired!"

"Thanks, Lee," they replied in a single, staggering voice.

A few third year students brushed past them, as they entered the bitter wind through the main doors of the Entrance Hall.

"I'm sad to be leaving, actually," said Fred softly, as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his winter coat. "Would be nice to explore the castle without so many people around."

"Mom must have known we'd feel that way. She sent us an owl last week, reminding us to come home," George said with a laugh. "At least we'll have a new pair of socks to show for it."

"How about you, Lee?"

"Hmm...what can I say about holidays at the Jordan household?" he wondered, looking down at the tracks in the snow. "We've got loads of decorations, and that. Presents, too. It's just...my father is constantly at the Ministry. He's got to, you know? That's the job — apparently. He'll be home at Christmas, but I always know that he'd rather be at his desk. I try not to bother him."

"Sorry, mate," said George, as he exchanged a guilty frown with Fred. Their fathers were nothing alike.

"Not to worry. I'm used to it," Lee said, shrugging. "We'll watch Quidditch together on our home system, so I have that to look forward to."

When they reached Hogsmeade, the wind had become a squall of snow and sleet. The line to board the Hogwarts Express was longer than they had hoped. By the time it was their turn to climb aboard the train, shivering and wet, many of the compartments had been taken. Although there was one. The moment George saw Angelina sitting by herself in the last cabin of the third car, he tried turning back, but there were too many impatient students in the hall behind them. He stood in the open doorway, entirely unsure of himself.

"Oh, here it begins," said Fred brightly. "Looks like we'll have to share a cabin..."

"I don't have a problem with it," said Angelina cuttingly, her face half-hidden behind an issue of Dark Force Defense League. The incessant character battle on the glossy cover did well to express her inner turmoil.

"Neither do I," said George, storming in suddenly. He slid across the bench opposite her and kicked off his shoes. Then he crossed his arms and looked out the window, breathing from his nose in heavy enough bursts to fog the glass.

"Look at that, Lee," Fred beamed, throwing an arm around him. "Best mates already!"

George had done well to avoid an explanation on what had taken place when Professor Snape held them after class. Even when Fred learned about the love potion through Lee (who had heard everything from the Gryffindor girls at the evening feast), the four of them remained largely silent on the topic. No one wanted to make matters worse. But now, in such close quarters, and with the potential for explosive arguments, Fred and Lee could not mask their dizzying jubilation.

"It's like watching the fuse disappear into a box of firecrackers," said Lee under his breath.

"Now, correct me here," Fred began, as he lowered slowly into the seat beside his brother. "You can talk, you just can't look at each other?"

"Into one another's eyes," said Angelina swiftly. She licked her finger and turned to the next page. "We aren't supposed to talk either."

"There's nothing she has to say that I care to listen to," said George.

"I'll have you know, there's much I would like to say at the moment...but it would not be very lady-like!"

As the train chugged away from the village of Hogsmeade and into the vast, white countryside, Fred and Lee enjoyed the silence with giddy anticipation. They had only to wait five minutes before the real bickering commenced.

Angelina closed her comic book with a smack and dropped it to her lap. "Lee, will you please tell George to stop breathing like a sick troll? It's so infuriating, I can hardly hear myself think."

Lee nodded and tilted his gaze to the other side of the compartment. "George?"

"Yes, Lee."

"Angelina wants you to stop breathing."

He nodded, a trembling frown developing on his face. "Fred, would you mind informing HER that there were other compartments available on the train...if she simply cannot handle my need to remain ALIVE?"

"Certainly. Miss Johnson?"

"Yes, Fred."

"It's a pleasure to share a compartment with you," he noted charmingly.

"Thank you, Fred," she replied in a sugary tone, making it a point to look up at him. "You really are too kind."

"George?"

"Yes, Lee."

"You're still breathing."

George was nodding uncontrollably. "Right...well...it's a dreadful habit that I picked up on the day of my birth. Not much I can do about it these days."

Fred leaned forward and pretended to whisper to Lee, "This is going to be such a nauseating ride, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so," he said, playing along.