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

Chapter 25:2

Aruzula broke out in a violent laugh.

"Accio Wand!"

The Scrapper was pulled from George's robe, tearing the pocket open as it soared to her free hand. She inspected it closely.

"And this...my new magic wand. I must say, I'm surprised it allowed you to etch in your initial after the core was placed. That's a wandmaker's skill."

"My father did it, so I wouldn't confuse it with my brother's wand," said George, longing to see his family one last time.

"That's doubtful. I'll have to ask dear old dad how he had it done," she said, exhaling stridently. "I hadn't thought of that, actually. Always wanted a father, though I've never heard great things." She rested her black wand on the table and twisted George's wand between her fingers, inspecting every variance on the worn surface. "Ancient, isn't it? Now, the allegiance may be problematic. Seems I'll have to kill you the moment we're through. It's not as if I can just —"

A radiant flurry of colored sparks sailed from the end of George's wand. Darc smiled in surprise.

"It works. That was unexpected. Our wand is...quite something."

"Drop it, Aruzula. It doesn't belong to you!"

"To be fair, it does belong to me. Or, at least, it will before long," she said, delighted. "Hmm...this is going to be easier than I thought."

George was ready to scream. Then he heard his brother's voice.

I'm here, George. Stay calm.

FRED! he thought desperately, eyes fixed on the snake in the floor.

Are you okay?

No, he replied, concentrating as hard as he could. Where are you?

I'm behind one of the panels in the wall overhead. I'm wearing Dumbledore's cloak. His words were soft but confident. What's the matter?

"It's almost time, dear boy," said Aruzula, continuing her speech as George explained everything to the distant voice in his mind. "Almost time for me to leave this wretched body and become one with — hold on...Weasley? You're the pure-blood twins..."

So...what should we do? George pleaded, trying not to look in the direction of where his brother was hiding.

Let me think, Fred responded faintly.

"The prophecy. I...I may need to reconsider this..." she said with a hand to her forehead, as the last particle of sand dripped from the flaming hourglass.

Hurry!

This is mental, but you're going to have to trust me... Fred thought, perching out from the high passageway. Kick the table over as hard as you can. It will send the tin up into the air. As well as the pill.

"It's far too late to second guess. If the prophecy is true, the transformation will fail. In any case, a decision must be made."

Aruzula dismissed her fears and loomed over the table.

What? he protested.

Think about it, George. You and I are The Boy Who Was Twins. We're the same! The EXACT same, down to...

George smiled, as the wicked woman reached for the tin that was lying open on the table. "Down to the last freckle!"

"What did you say?" she asked, as George kicked the table with all his might and sent the tin flying. Aruzula twirled round, as they watched the red capsule coast high into the air. "What are you doing?"