Chapter 4: Of Flamingos and Flying Cars
"Okay, you two. What's the plan to get around our angry flamingo aunt?" Ron asked hurriedly to his "genius" twin brothers. Using the general noise of the family reunion to help mask his intent.
"The plan is simple, dear Ronald-" Fred began only to be cut off.
"Call me that one more time, Frederick." Ron said, whipping out his wand as a threat.
"Now, now, ladies. You both have beautiful names." George jokingly said. "Besides, we just need to wait 'til she falls asleep."
Bill slowly walked up behind them before saying. "Do any of you remember the last time you tried that? She turned you into newts for a week."
"Right, good point Bill. Plan S it is, then." Fred replied, a bit disappointed that it wouldn't be that easy.
"S? What happened to Plan's B through R?" Mafalda asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We couldn't find one of those Muggle rubber chickens and Erol doesn't work as a substitute." George explained.
"Plan S. In other words, 'Sneak in and nick the keys'." Fred elaborated.
"Who distracts the old hag?" Mafalda asked.
Everyone else slowly turned and looked at Percy, who was contemplating who they should choose. They then gave the most innocent of looks, except for Mafalda who had the most wicked smirk on her face. Upon noticing their silence, he looked and saw his brothers and cousin's looks.
"Oh no. I am not distracting her." Percy replied, shaking his head.
"Does he remember the deal, Fred?" George cheekily asked his twin.
"I don't think he does, George." Fred cheekily replied.
"... I hate you both. So much." Percy replied bitterly.
"Hippity hop, you're on the clock, Percival." Mafalda said with a wicked smirk.
Steeling himself, and tempering a shiver down his spine, he made the dreaded journey towards his great, great aunt Muriel. Sat in one of the old, overstuffed chairs, from a wizarding age long before the concept of lumbar support, was what could best be described as a crooked crone of a woman. Her pink feathered hat, commonly known among the Weasley's as the death of the flamingos, proudly sat upon her fluffed light gray hair. The stern, implacable face of the old woman soon turned her frigid blue eyes to look at the Hogwarts Prefect.
"Percival. A rare moment of forwardness to come and chat with an old woman. Seems like your mother actually taught you manners." Muriel said, her voice clattering out the words like a half working chainsaw.
Percy did his best to force a smile onto his face. "Hello, dear great-great aunt Muriel. How are you feeling today? Well, the arthritis aside." he replied, trying to sound delighted to get to speak to her.
"Lord above, I hate this time of year. Autumn always makes my bones ache worse than a house elf after cleaning a chimney." she groaned, showing she wasn't entirely just being a cranky old codger. Which only made it worse in the eyes of Percy.
"That must be so difficult to deal with. I have a recipe for a potion that may help with that. It was recently added to the Potions class textbooks we use for Hogwarts." Percy offered, still attempting to be nice.
"Is that pale slimy bastard Snape still teaching Potions there?" the old woman asked, as if trying to gauge the option.
"Unfortunately, yes. However, despite his faults, Professor Snape is a marvelous Potions Master. I mean, he was able to teach Ron despite his distraction." Percy told her, trying to convince her to leave the room with him.
"I'd trust a recipe from him sooner than that fat old dobber Slughorn. Honestly, it would be better to throw both of them into a troll pit. You can't ever trust a man who's that damn pale. Looks like he'd burst into flames going out into the sunlight." Muriel groaned, leaning back into the chair.
"Right. Allow me to help you up, great-great aunt Muriel." Percy told her, walking over to help her out of the chair while trying to squeeze past a shelf.
The unfortunate effect of the shelf falling over and smashing down onto Percy's foot. Crying out in pain, the Weasley boy began trying to lift the shelf off his foot as he grit his teeth to keep from cursing up a storm. Everyone was frankly shocked and aghast at this from Percy. All except Muriel, who had a shockingly amused smirk on her face. A most horrifying look, anyone in that room would agree.
"Honestly, Percival. You must stop being so clumsy. I was hoping at least one of you got rid of that trait." Muriel said as she got out of the chair.
To the dumbfounded shock of everyone, the old crone reached down and easily picked the shelf off the floor, then set it back up. Once it was stable, grabbing onto the far younger man, she threw him into a fireman's carry over her shoulder.
"Molly, where the hell do you keep the bloody potions' ingredients around this hole in a wall!?" Muriel asked as she slowly began to carry Percy into the kitchen.
"... How the bloody hell is that old bat so strong…?" Mafalda quietly asked in disbelief.
"I will be honest. I have seen many breeds of dragon, but none scarier than that woman." Charlie commented.
"Let's get out of here while she's distracted." Ron whispered hurriedly as Muriel began to make an unholy ruckus in the kitchen, clearly trying to find what she needed instead of waiting for her slack jawed in-laws to get it for her.
Fred and George nodded as they scampered off like gremlins as they heard Muriel from the kitchen say something about Troll clippings. Making their way to the garage, they slowly began rifling through a pile of junk to try and find the infernal car keys. However, their father, Arthur Weasley, poked his head up from an old grandfather clock he was working on.
"What are you boys doing here?" their father asked, not really that curious.
"Oh, we were just wondering what you were working on, dad." Fred lied smoothly.
Arthur's eyes lit up at that, believing it hook, line, and sinker. "This, my dear boys, is a Muggle grandfather clock. Not sure where the Muggles put one for grandmothers, but considering how backwards they are, they likely haven't gotten to that level of equality yet." the man explained.
"Huh. That's interesting, dad. Say, what's that over there?" George asked, pointing to a peculiar yellow object on the desk as Fred caught sight of the car keys on their dad's work desk.
"Oh, that's a project for a different date. It's what Muggles would call a rubber duck. Not quite sure what kind of Muggle engineering they somehow got a hold of for that one, but it will be an interesting inspection. Can you ask Ron to ask what it may be used for if you see him later? His friends live in the muggle world, after all." Arthur asked his boys.
"I think I can think of a few ways we could use them." George snidely remarked, wicked thoughts flowing through his half of the brain he and Fred shared.
"Think we can stuff a pineapple in it?" Fred asked curiously, as if trying to mentally measure it as he subtly made his way over to the keys.
"Now, now, boys. How would you even fit a pineapple into a rubber duck without magic? I doubt the Muggles designed it for that purpose." Arthur replied with a chuckle as he began working on removing one of the gears of the grandfather clock.
"Very carefully and with a stick of butter." Fred answered, as if taking that as a challenge.
"Focus, dung brain." George hissed as he saw Fred swipe the keys while their father was distracted and stuffed them in his pants pocket.
"Well, it's been fun, dad. But George and I have things to do. Pranks and jokes to plan, spells to study. You know how it is." Fred told their father with a smirk.
"Just don't provoke the Flamingo." Arthur sternly said, and the two nodded, both not wanting that.
The two boys then slunk out of the garage with the keys in hand to enact the next stage of the Plot to Rescue Potter. As they did, Arthur looked over at the rubber duck, picked it up, and gave it a look over. "What is your function…?" he quizzically asked the bath toy, as if expecting an answer.
Later: Dinner At the Burrow
Dinnertime at the Weasley's was always a raucous affair, but with the massive extended family, it was a truly titanic affair. Percy, a favorite in the servers, got a break that year due to a crushed foot, and the fact that he had to take Auntie Muriel's healing potion. Molly smiled at the fact Fred and George stepped up to the plate to help out.
"Thank you so much, boys." Mother Weasley said with a warm smile.
"Happy to help, mum. We may like a good joke, but we also love our family." Fred told her with a smile as he plated up his mother's food while George poured her drink, subtly slipping a potion into it and stirring.
"Here you go, Auntie Muriel." George said, faking a smile so hard he swore his lips might split open as he handed Muriel a drink as well.
"Scotland Marshwyrm Firewhiskey. I haven't had this since my anniversary trip to Scotland at 60." she said before tasting it. "Hm. 1962. Better year, then."
Muriel then downed it in a single gulp as the other Weasleys began to eat and drink as well. In a shockingly rapid amount of time, nearly the entire stock of Weasleys were face-first into their food or leaning back on their chairs. All asleep as if a charm had been put on them all. Ron, nearly about to have drunk from his own cup, slowly put it back down.
"Good thinking, slipping the sleeping potions into the drinks." Ron said, deeply impressed by the ingenuity. "But why did you do it to Percy, Bill, and Charley too?"
"Plausible deniability, Ronald. That way, they can claim they didn't know anything if we get caught." Fred told his little brother with a smirk.
"Big if there, Fred. Still, better safe than sorry." George added with a grin of his own.
"Right, let's go. We gotta get Harry out of that accursed place he calls a home." Ron said, leaping to his feet.
"Shotgun." Mafalda added with a smirk.
"No, you're not." Ron sternly said.
"Oh? Then what will you do if I 'accidentally' let it slip to Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur where you went and took the car?" Mafalda added with a smirk.
"If I'm not in front, and one of the twins needs to drive, then how will Harry know it's not some crazy plot or something by some criminal dark wizards?" Ron asked his cousin.
Mafalda frowned and sighed. "I hate it when you're right, Ronald. Fine, I'll get in the back." she replied, admitting defeat.
"See that you do. To the flying death machine!" Ron yelled, rushing off towards the garage.
"I'll drive! No, I'll drive!" Fred and George said at the same time as they rushed off to the car.
"Can you two Muggle brains put a third brain cell in there?" Mafalda asked in annoyance.
"I'm the one who's got the keys, so I'm driving!" Fred told his twin.
"You drove the last time we snuck out with the car!" George replied.
"Play ya' in troll-wizard-werewolf for it." Fred called out.
"You're on, Freddy boy!" George told his twin with a smirk.
"Troll-wizard-werewolf, go!" the twins said at the same time as they began their little competition.
Privet Drive
Harry found himself running through a darkened corridor in Hogwarts. Looking back in fear, he saw invisible, shadowy figures rounding the corner. Pulling his wand out, he fired an offensive spell in their direction. However, one of the figures, wand in hand, simply deflected the spell, causing it to smash into a nearby wall and crack it.
Firing spell after spell, Harry tried to defend himself only for his attacks to be deflected each time. Beginning to panic, he prepared another only to find himself frozen in place. However, this was not like a Full-Body Bind. No, this was something vastly different.
"Harry!" he heard Ron's voice call out from the darkness.
Looking, he saw Ron's silhouette appear only to be struck down by the green light of a curse. "RON!" the Boy Who Lived called out in concern for his best friend.
"Harry!" he then heard Hermoine's voice called out.
Turning, Harry then saw Hermoine's silhouette appear in the light. However, another green lit curse hit her, sending her to the floor in a crumpled heap as her hand hit the floor, peeking just out of the darkness.
"HERMIONE!" Harry called out in concern.
"Harry! Run!" he heard Hagrid's voice call out.
Turning, he saw Hagrid's massive frame appear in a silhouette. However, a barrage of green light hit him in the time it took Harry to blink. It was over so fast that the young Potter could barely process it. One moment his massive friend was reaching out to him, the next the ground shook as his body hit the cold stone floor.
"Hagrid! HAGRID!" Harry called out in a panic, reaching out to the gentle giant before he himself was then hit by a flash of green light.
It was this last thing that made Harry awaken in fright, cold sweat coating him in its clammy embrace. Looking around, there was no one in his room this time. Sighing, he slowly got up to try and walk it off a little.
"Come on, Harry. You're better than this. You can't let these get to you…" Harry grumbled, frustrated at the fact that they were continuing.
Harry was then very confused as he heard… Was that a car? Turning and rushing over to his window, he saw a car door directly outside. With the distinctive grinning smile of Ron waiting for him.
"Evening, Harry. Need a taxi?" Ron asked him, his smile growing ever bigger.
To Be Continued...