All Kinds of Directions

Fred was sitting behind the counter in the shop, tallying up the previous week’s numbers. He hated doing the numbers; half the fun of running a joke shop was being out on the floor showing off your merchandise for the customers. And the other half was inventing the products themselves. Which left no room in the Fun category for tallying up numbers.

Plus, Fred wasn’t all that good at numbers, and they kept on adding up wrong, even when he used a Charm. George was much better at doing the books than Fred, but George wasn’t coming to work any more—or even leaving his room—and Fred couldn’t let the books fall behind, even if it took him three times as long as it would have taken George.

Fred found himself disagreeing more and more with his twin. Yes, Luna shagging Harry and Ginny had been a monumentally stupid idea—even Fred could see that. But George was making the whole thing worse by sulking as long as he was. And Fred knew that George had given permission just like Luna had said, which meant the prat was really angry at himself for walking into it.

Fred groaned when he did another simple Charm and the numbers still didn’t tally right. “Bloody hell, what am I doing wrong?” he muttered in frustration.

“You, erm… You’re pronouncing it wrong,” a precise, hesitant voice said. “It’s NUM-er-us, not num-ER-us.”

Fred looked up in surprise, and his face contorted. “Get the hell out of my shop!” he shouted, causing heads all over the store to turn.

Percy Weasley’s lips went very thin, a sure sign that he was displeased, but he didn’t respond with a smarmy remark as Fred expected. “I was hoping that you and George would speak with me,” he said, sounding surprisingly humble.

“If by ‘speak’ you mean ‘shove a Wildfire Whiz-Bang up your arse,’ then you’ve got a deal,” Fred snapped, pulling one of the larger fireworks off the shelf beside him without taking his eyes off Percy.

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind, no,” Percy replied, stepping back a pace and eyeing the firework warily. “Truly, Fred, I just want a quick word. Please,” he asked. Fred was so shocked at the diffident attitude he forgot to be angry for a moment. “Please, Fred,” Percy added, twisting the knife. “For Mother.”

Fred scowled; that last comment was low, even for Percy. “Fine,” he said tightly through gritted teeth. “Outside.” Without another word he stomped toward the back door, not bothering to see if Percy followed him.

When Fred stepped outside he shivered; the weather was turning colder, and he hadn’t thought to grab his cloak. He shrugged mentally: This won’t take long; if Percy gets on my nerves too much I’ll just use Pansy’s Ton-Tongue Hex. With that pleasant thought in his mind he was able not to scowl again when Percy stepped out after him. “Well?” he said the moment the door was closed.

“I…” Percy started, but shut his mouth after a moment. “How are Mother and Father?” he asked finally.

“You’re kidding,” Fred said incredulously. “You risked a Bat-Bogey Hex and improperly-applied fireworks for a bit of gossip?”

“Erm… I suppose you could describe it that way,” was Percy’s startling answer. “I couldn’t attend William’s wedding, of course—”

“Couldn’t or didn’t want to?” Fred demanded.

Percy sniffed haughtily. “I wasn’t invited, as I’m sure you know. I would have, of course, had I been allowed. I did send a gift.”

“Did you?” Fred asked innocently. “I didn’t know that… Guess Bill decided not to open it in front of everyone.”

Fred gloated happily at the look of mild hurt that flashed briefly across Percy’s face. “Yes, well… Perhaps that’s to be understood,” Percy admitted airily. “I trust the wedding went smoothly? Or should I say, weddings?” he shook his head slightly. “I’m truly shocked that Father gave Ginevra permission to marry Harry before she’d even reached her sixteenth birthday.”

Fred fought back a smirk. “Oh yeah, Mum and Dad are ecstatic,” he said lightly. “After all, how often do you get the Chosen One marrying into your family?”

Percy frowned in disapproval. “You really shouldn’t encourage Harry to think like that, you know,” he said in a scolding tone.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t have tried to turn Ron against him!” Fred shouted. “That’s right, I know all about your letter to Ron! You’ve got a lot of bloody nerve trying to tell me what to do! At least I never turned against my own family!”

“No… No you don’t,” Percy admitted quietly. “You’re right, of course. I should have known that Fudge’s promotion of my career was little more than a bribe. But at the time I believed that siding with the Ministry truly was the best path.” He drew himself up. “Had I known that Dolores Umbridge had attempted to murder Harry, I would have immediately rethought my position. Contrary to what I’m certain you think, I do actually care whether you all live or die.”

Percy walked away, not back into the building but down the little alley that ran behind it. When he reached the edge of the building he turned back to look at Fred. “I do wish things hadn’t turned out the way they have, Fred. I do miss… Well, I’ve been recalling the time you and George turned the back of my robes transparent just before my Charms O.W.L. practical, and remembering it fondly, if that gives you any indication,” he said. “I suppose if I want to hear the news regarding Mother and Father I’ll have to simply ask them.” He shivered a bit apprehensively. “Perhaps I will. Someday. I can hardly ask Penelope to be my wife whilst my track record with family matters remains so abysmal.” He smiled, although it came across as more of a grimace. “I shouldn’t have bothered you at your work; I apologize. I shan’t waste any more of your time; you have a great deal to be getting on with, certainly. Congratulations on your success, by the way. Please give my regards to everyone.”

With that, Percy turned and walked away without a backward glance, leaving Fred clutching the firework so tightly his knuckles whitened. Fred stood there for a long while after Percy disappeared around a corner before pulling the door open and stepping slowly back into the shop.

Lee came rushing over as soon as he saw Fred. “Fred?” he asked. “The great prat didn’t try to hex you, did he?”

“No,” Fred said vaguely. “Almost wish he had, it would’ve made more sense…” Shaking himself, Fred looked at Lee. “Your eyebrows still haven’t grown back?”

Lee scowled. “Well George won’t even tell me what he did, let alone how to reverse it!”

“No offense, Lee, but you’re a bloody idiot,” Fred muttered. “What made you think George would put up with you hexing Luna?”

“He was furious at her!” Lee hissed angrily. “I was just getting her back for him!”

“Too bad for you that Ginny taught him that… er, uncomfortable hex, then,” Fred said innocently. “I noticed you’ve been standing a lot today.” Yet more proof that George knows he’s being an idiot, Fred mused. He was almost apoplectic when he heard about Lee’s misguided revenge on his behalf.

Lee flushed. “You don’t…er, know how to get rid of it, do you?”

“No,” Fred said. “You could always ask Ginny, though.” Lee clearly didn’t think much of that suggestion, but Fred had little doubt that he’d cave in and apologize to Luna fairly soon once he figured out it was the only way he’d ever get to sit down again. “Look, watch the shop for a bit, will you?” he asked. “I think I’d better go tell Harry about this.”

Fred went into the back room and took the Floo to the House of Black. When he picked himself up he saw that Pansy was sitting alone at the table picking at a meal. She looked up and glared dully at him before returning her eyes to her plate, acting as though Fred wasn’t even there.

Fred hesitated. It had been four days since Pansy had gone into the room in which they were holding Draco Malfoy; no one knew exactly what had been said (Pansy refused to talk about it), but it was obvious to everyone that Draco hadn’t returned Pansy’s affections the way she’d expected him to. Harry had spread orders not to pester her about it at all, and was apparently content to let Pansy deal with whatever had happened on her own—that, or he’d made some overture of consolation to her in private that Fred didn’t know about. Whatever the case, Fred didn’t think he was more likely to get anything out of Pansy than Harry, so eventually he just waved vaguely to her (she didn’t look up) and headed upstairs.

As he walked past the newly-created second conference room on the second floor, Fred noticed the door was closed. Figuring it was as good a place to start looking for Harry as any, he knocked lightly.

After a moment the door opened, and Luna smiled out at him (a bit tensely, Fred thought). “Hello, Fred. Can we help you with something?”

Fred looked inside and saw that Hermione was seated at the table, carefully covering certain items so Fred couldn’t see them. “Just wondering where Harry is,” Fred asked. “Er, and Ron and Ginny too, I guess.”

“Ron is in our room working on something, but it’s not crucial, so you can interrupt him,” Hermione said. “Actually he’ll probably thank you for it. And Harry and Ginny were with Dean, Justin and Hannah in one of the practice rooms, working on Patronuses. Or they were about half an hour ago. Is what you need them for something I should hear?” she asked.

“Nah, it’s not urgent or anything,” Fred replied lightly. “They can tell you about it later.”

Hermione nodded and returned her attention to some parchment in front of her. After glancing back, Luna stepped out of the door and pulled it mostly closed. “Fred,” she murmured softly, “Has George said anything to you about what I could do to make things right with him?”

Fred was pretty shocked. “Er… No. Sorry, Luna…. He hasn’t said anything to me for a few days now.” One look at how Luna’s face fell, and Fred decided he would give George a piece of his mind first chance he got. “Lu, George’ll snap out of it,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “He’s thick as a plank, but he’ll get there eventually.”

Luna gave Fred a vague, slightly watery smile; then she turned back into the room and closed the door without another word. Bloody strange girl, Fred thought to himself. But she’s a good sort—she doesn’t deserve this. I’m gonna give George an earful.

Fred extracted Harry and Ginny from their Spell practice with Dean, Justin and Hannah by saying “I’ve got some D.A. business for you.” Then he went upstairs with them to find Ron.

In Ron and Hermione’s room,. Fred described to the three of them the meeting with Percy. Ginny was incensed, but not for the reason Fred would have expected; “You went into the back alley alone with him?” she snarled.

Fred blinked. “What? Lee saw where I went…”

“Fred, Percy could have Stunned you and carted you off, or slapped a Portkey into your hand,” Harry said sternly. “And we wouldn’t have known until it was too late!”

“That’s crazy!” Fred exclaimed. “Why in Merlin’s name would Percy want to—” He stopped and gawked as he figured out what they were suggesting. “Oh come on! Percy, working for V-Voldemort? That’s ridiculous!”

“Imperius,” Ron said simply. “It could happen, Fred.”

Fred sighed. “All right, I guess that wasn’t too smart. But still, I think you’re just paranoid.”

“Maybe, but I’d rather not be proven wrong when Voldemort tortures you to death,” Harry snapped.

“Okay, okay! I’ll be more careful!”

Ginny took a deep breath. “What did Percy ask you for, exactly?” she asked Fred.

“Nothing,” Fred muttered sullenly. “Just to say hi to everyone for him.”

“Nothing?” Ron repeated skeptically. “There must’ve been something, Percy never does anything unless there’s something in it for him.”

“You want to take my memory and view it before you’ll believe me?” Fred asked irritably. “There wasn’t anything! He just wanted some gossip about the family: ‘How was the wedding?’ ‘How’re Mum and Dad?’ If you ask me, he was just trying to get back into the family without actually admitted he did anything wrong. He implied that he was wrong to side with Fudge and Umbridge, but he didn’t actually say so or apologize for it.”

“Just like when he sent that wedding gift to Harry and me,” Ginny agreed with a scowl. “It was more like a bribe, really.”

“Maybe he thinks that since he spoke for me after I beat up Scrimgeour we just have to take him back,” Ron said darkly. “He’s probably wondering why we’re not falling over ourselves to tell him all is forgiven.”

“See, but that’s why it seemed off to me,” Fred said, frowning. “The whole time in that alley, the Big Head Boy was…respectful, and he’s never been respectful with me and George!”

“Well, he’d be respectful to anyone if he thought it would get him something,” Ron said cynically. “Look at Crouch. Look at Fudge and Umbridge.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a bit of real respect for you because of how well the shop’s doing,” Ginny said to Fred, surprising him. “Percy’s always respected success, and you two have been making money hand over fist.”

Fred nodded slowly. “He did congratulate us on our success,” he admitted.

“There you are, then,” Ginny said dismissively. “Percy the Prat was just trying to slime his way back in—”

A knock on the door made them all look up. Harry got up to answer it; Terry was standing there. “Hi,” he said. “Uh… There’s a red light flashing outside the room Malfoy’s in…does that mean anything to you?”

“Yeah, it does,” Harry said. “I set it up so that if Draco knocked on the door that light would go off; it was a way to signal us if he was ready to talk. Thanks, Terry; we’ll deal with it.” He turned back to the others after Terry left. “Are we done? If we are I’ll go see what Draco wants—maybe he’s ready to talk,” he said, but skeptically.

“I think so,” Fred said, shrugging. He’d done his duty. “I should get back to the shop.”

“Harry, let me go deal with Draco,” Ginny said, standing.

“What? Why?”

“Because of all of us, he’s less likely to have a harsh reaction to me,” Ginny said wryly.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure I like the idea of you going in there alone,” Harry said. “You won’t have your wand, so…” He stopped when Fred snorted. “What?”

“Ginny can handle Malfoy,” Fred said, snickering.

“I thought you had more faith in me, Harry,” Ginny said with a pout, although her eyes twinkled.

“I do!” Harry insisted quickly. “I know you can take care of yourself in a fight! But Draco’s sneaky—”

“Harry, you remember what I did to Scrimgeour, right?” Ron asked. Harry nodded. “Well, I wouldn’t take on Ginny in a fight.”

“Gin-Gin may not be as strong as us, but she’s a great Chaser, remember?” Fred asked innocently. “She’s got great aim,” he added at Harry’s confused look.

“I did grow up with six older brothers, you know,” Ginny said, and chortled when Harry winced. “Harry, if I could take down Bill when I was twelve, I can deal with Draco Malfoy.”

To his credit, Harry didn’t protest any more. “Right,” he said, holding out his hand; Ginny turned over her wand. “You ask Draco what he wants, then. Ron and I will wait outside the door. Just in case,” he added when Ron snorted. “If you have any trouble, just yell, we’ll hear. We’ll come back up when you’re done.”

Ginny snapped off a salute, complete with cheeky grin, and trotted out of the room, shoving Fred in front of her. “Bloody hell,” Ron said with amusement, following Ginny. “I wonder if there’ll be anything left of Malfoy once Ginny’s done with him.”

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for Draco,” Harry teased.

“Hell no,” Ron protested. Then he smirked. “But almost.”