Never Is Our Always

Hell Has Begun To Freeze Over 5

(Minnie pov)

GALLONS OF GALLEONS!

Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?

Like to earn a little extra gold?

Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs.

"Virtually painless?" I giggled, reading on.

(We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.)

"This is what I'm dealing with..." I sigh, shaking my head with a big smile on my face, I loved it.

-

"Look at today!" Ron groaned as I sat down beside him, stealing some toast. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defence Against the Dark Arts... Binns, Snape, Trelawney and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted..."

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Fred said, arriving with George and squeezing on to the bench beside Harry. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today," Ron said grumpily, shoving his timetable under Fred's nose. "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, little bro," Fred said, scanning the column. "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."

"Why's it cheap?" Ron said suspiciously.

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," George said, helping himself to a kipper.

"Cheers," Ron said moodily, pocketing his timetable, "but I think I'll take the lessons."

"And speaking of your Skiving Snackboxes," Hermione said, eyeing Fred and George beadily, "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor noticeboard."

"Says who?" George said, looking astonished.

"Says me," Hermione said. "And Ron." She adds.

"Leave me out of it," Ron said hastily, "and Alice stop stealing my toast!" I look at him, mid bite and smile.

"Did I?" I ask him. "Sorry, Ron." I sighed, twisting my ring anxiously, "it's been a long morning."

Hermione glared at Ron. Fred and George sniggered.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," Fred said, thickly buttering a crumpet much to my disgust. "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long."

"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?" asked Hermione.

"Fifth year's OWL year," George said, eyeing my hand and then swiftly looking to Fred as he bit into his crumpet.

"So?"

"So you've got your exams coming up, haven't you? They'll be keeping your noses so hard to that grindstone they'll be rubbed raw," Fred said with satisfaction.

"Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to OWLs," George said happily. "Tears and tantrums... Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint..."

"Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?" Fred said reminiscently.

"That's 'cause you put Bulbadox powder in his pyjamas," George said, I rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah," Fred said, grinning. "I'd forgotten... hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?"