Magical Mugwort

. The warmth of the tea was comforting as I recrossed my legs under the slightly rickety wooden table. Setting my book on the table, I glanced around the busy restaurant. The Leaky Cauldron, this wasn't. I loved the sweets shop in Diagon Alley. There were always such an array of characters, not to mention that everything was enchanted by magic. All around me were witches and wizards, small little children up through aged old crones. I think I was the only person there who wasn't—or couldn't-- do magic.



It was a marvelous place. Even though I couldn't do magic, it didn't stop me from enjoying some of the finer points of it all. And it was rare that I received any flack. My brother was the one who had been gifted. I was more than content, however, to while away the afternoon in the shop while my parents took my brother Andrew out shopping for all his school supplies. He was the lucky one; he got to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. I, being a Squib, was unable to attend. Not that it mattered, as I was long past school age. I was living on my own in London anyway, but my parents thought it important for me to be there while my brother shopped. And truth be told, I wouldn't miss it for the world.



Sighing deeply, I slid my fingers through my bright chestnut hair. It was always a little unruly, being thick and wavy, but today I had forced it to behave due to a minor spell I had performed. Okay, I had the ability to do very, very minor spells, but anything more than a few hair-fixing spells and it was out of my control. My brother had been kind enough to give me a charmed hairbrush that would style my hair any way that I wanted it. Too bad I couldn't do anything to fix my weight issues, but to be honest, I wasn't nearly as heavy as I believed myself to be. I had curves, and I was mostly proud of them. An hourglass, really. And I made good money in the Muggle world, so I was able to dress myself decently. My chestnut eyes were tinged with gold, an attribute that had gotten me more than one recognition.



There was an exclamation and I looked up to see a group of young men and women entering the shop. They were probably students, carousing the Alley in anticipation of school. I shook my head slightly, smiling to myself. It had been a long time since I had been around that crowd. Until I had come here today with my family, I had damn near forgotten what it was like to be that young and that carefree. Well, mostly carefree, anyway. Times were brewing dark, for wizardkind and Muggles alike. The Dark Lord was rising once more, at least according to some. I knew from my parents that the Ministry of Magic had been denying it, burying every scrap of information that contradicted their word that everything was normal. Now, however, it seemed that everything was changed, and there were vast amounts of literature on how to take precautions nowadays. Politics. Hmph.



That too, I suspect, was part of why I was here today. My parents wanted to keep me close, and see if there was anything that might help keep me safe. I knew that more and more people were disappearing in the Muggle world, my world for all intents and purposes, and my parents were a step away from dragging me back to their magickally protected home. Hopefully I wouldn't have to. I knew enough about He Who Must Not Be Named to know that he hated Muggles, half-bloods, everyone except purebloods. And if they traced back to me, well, surely I'd be dead.



Truthfully, it wasn't something I was deeply concerned with. I wasn't a fool. I knew that Voldemort had returned, recruiting all the dark wizards back to him. I knew that anyone outside of purebloods was canon fodder, including me. But I did not believe that anyone would bother with me. Perhaps only time would tell.



“Here you go, missy. Nice spiced up tea for you, love.”



I looked up to see one of the waitresses setting down a steaming cup of tea in front of me. “Excuse me? Um, I didn't order this.”



The graying blonde witch raised an eyebrow at me and quirked a half smile. “No worries, love. That gent over there sent it to you. Looks like you've got an admirer.” She nodded across the room, and headed back to the counter.



I glanced over to where she had motioned. Sitting near the door was the group of young men and women that I had caught a glimpse of earlier, but hadn't paid any real attention to. Now as I looked up, I took note. There was one dark-skinned young woman, well built, a slender brunette girl, a dark-skinned young man, and one redhaired young man. As I looked, the redheaded young man caught my eye and grinned. He was cute, his hair very red, hanging near his shoulders. Broad shoulders, by the looks of it, and a slender but muscular body.



Dear gods, was I checking him out?



His smile was rather charming, and he looked me directly in the eye. I raised an eyebrow and smiled coolly back at him, taking the cup and tipping it towards him before I took a sip. My mouth was scorched at the mixture of tea laced with firewhiskey. It tore down my throat and warmed me from the inside out. It was good stuff.



Smiling to myself, I set down the tea and picked up my book once again. It wouldn't do to simply strike up a conversation or appear as if it meant anything. Ah, what a day. So, what was I reading about again?



“'Ello, there.”



I raised my eyes to see the redhaired man pulling up a chair at my table, and setting himself down. I raised my eyebrows, curious as to the boldness of it all. His eyes were really quite adorable, fastened on me from head to toe. I afforded him the same, looking him over and feeling rather amused by the whole situation.



“Make yourself comfortable,” I offered, smiling bemusedly at him.



“Ahh. An American girl! Haven't seen the likes of you 'round here before,” he said, leaning heavily on the table towards me. “You're a bit of all right, luv.”



Again my eyebrow shot upwards. “Well aren't you just filled with sweet words. And quite the generous fellow, aren't you, but are you even old enough to buy firewhiskey?”



The young man laughed and grinned mischievously, shrugging. “Even if I wasn't, I'd have no problem getting it in any regard. Folks around here are rather fond of me.”



“You're just that charming?”



“I don't know, luv, you tell me.” He focused his gaze on me, something twinkling in his eyes.



There was something about his gaze that made something low in my stomach clench ever so slightly. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but this guy had a lurking intensity hidden inside of him. Or maybe the firewhiskey was just making me see something that wasn't there.



Taking a slow breath, I tilted my head. “I'm going to reserve judgment for now. After all, the most I've seen thus far is that you've been kind enough to spot me a cup of spiked tea. Cheers.” I lifted the cup to my lips and drank again.



“So what do I need to do to prove that I'm as charming as they come?” he asked, his eyes drifting between my lips and my eyes.



“And why would you want to prove anything to me? I'm just a girl sitting in a sweets shop.”



He scooted his chair slightly closer to mine, that grin still on his face. “Far as I can tell, you really are the sweetest thing in here. Way I figure, I ought to be able to offer you something good so you'll leave here with me.”



I was seriously doubting my eyebrows could shoot up any higher. “Wow. You really are a cocky little thing, aren't you?”



“Nah, 'course not. Just supremely confident that you're a right smart bird who knows a good thing when she sees it,” he replied.



Wow. This kid really was a cocky little shit. And yet... I couldn't quite muster up the nerve to kick his ass. And with as close as he was sitting to me, I could feel a heat radiating off of him. I really wanted to laugh except for the little tingle that was touching my spine.



I couldn't help but chuckle as I leaned forward, pulling the lace strap on my top back over my shoulder. I met his eyes directly, noticing the look of interest there. “Well, I certainly like to think of myself as smart. I should be, considering my bosses trust me to run quite a bit of money through our store.”



His face rose. “Oh, yeah? What do you do?”



“Well, unlike most folks here, I actually work in the Muggle world. I work at one of the major department stores in accounting.”



He frowned for a moment. “Department store?”



I stared at him for a moment. “You don't get out in the Muggle world much, do you.”



He shook his head, ran his hands through his hair. “Can't say as I do. Our world's just fine by me. My dad's fascinated by Muggle items, though. How do you do it?”



Aw! He thought I was a witch! I almost hated to burst his bubble. Of course, what else was he going to assume? There weren't a whole lot of Muggles or even Squibs in the area.



“It's a lot easier than you think,” I said. “As a matter of fact--”



“Here you go, luv. Aren't you the popular one today?”



I looked up into the face of the waitress, as she set down a chocolate shake in front of me. I blinked. “Excuse me?”



She motioned from the guy sitting at my table to another fellow. “Twin of this one sends this one to you with his compliments.” She touched my shoulder and leaned in. “I'd give my wand to be half as lucky as you, dear. Make sure you do well.” She patted me and headed off again.



I looked from the shake to where she had pointed. Sure enough, there was the same guy's face looking at me from the same table where the first one had come from. I did a double take, confused for a moment.



“What the--?”



The guy at my table shrugged, leaning back.



The second guy strode over and plunked down in a chair on my other side. “Looks like there's a right party going on here. Hope you don't mind if I join in.”



I was still trying to process that there were actual twins that had just invited themselves to my table, both had bought me drinks, and they were honest to god identical twins. It was almost too much for my poor little brain to handle.



“So what's all going on here?” asked the new guy, a satisfied smile on his face. He looked at me, the smile growing wider. “Hope you like chocolate.”



Grinning stupidly, I said, “Well, lucky for you, I just happen to love chocolate as much as any self-respecting woman does.”



“Brilliant.” He nodded, looking me over. “Hope I wasn't interrupting anything.”



“No, not at all. Your brother, I assume, and I were just discussing the merits of knowing Muggle devices and customs.”



“You'd sure get along with our dad, then,” he said. “He's fascinated by that stuff.”



“So you are brothers. Not like that was hard to figure out or anything.” I smiled, shaking my head. “So do what do I owe the pleasure of meeting two wonderful twins in a place like this?”



Guy number one replied, “Oh, out with the family. The rest of the bunch is out buying school supplies. We're here to check on our business. See, we own a joke business. Right profitable, it is. Started it in school, and suffice to say, our services are in high demand. You may have heard of it? Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?”



I wracked my brain for a moment, then laughed. “So you're the one I have to thank for my brother offering me what turned out to be a Puking Pustile. Many thanks for that one. I couldn't get out of bed all day.”



Guy number two laughed, tossing back his hair. “Oh, bollocks. Well,” he shrugged, “we just sell the stuff, we don't control what they do with it when they have it. Although, I do feel a bit bad that you got the joke on you.”



I eyed the shake suspiciously now, wondering if there was anything wrong with it. “You wouldn't happen to be testing out anything new now here, would you?” I asked, motioning towards the shake.



For a moment he almost looked horrified. “Wouldn't dream of it, luv! No, that's all sweetness and cream right there. Like you.”



It was so cheesy I wanted to ask for a glass of wine. I shook my head and smiled, looking from one bright-eyed face to another, astounded at the similarities of them both. In all my years I had never really met truly identical twins. And now I was surrounded by them, both of them gazing at me in such a way that it made my toes curl ever so slightly, but in a good way.



“Well, that's a relief. So now that we've exchanged pleasantries, you are...?” I looked pointedly at guy number two.



He sat up and looked at his twin. “Why, how dreadfully rude of you, George. I thought you had introduced us all already.”



George looked surprised. “Hadn't quite had the chance. But if you insist.” He sat up, extended his hand. “I'm George Weasley. That's my brother Fred.”



I accepted the hand and shook it. His flesh was warm, soothing, firm. I could practically feel the magic in his touch. “Maggie Charlson. A pleasure.”



George shook my hand slowly, his eyes holding mine intently. “Maggie. Very nice.” His eyes took a moment to survey me from head to toe, drinking it all in. Instead of making me feel self-conscious, it made me feel appreciated, beautiful.



“Thank you.” I slowly retracted my hand and turned to the other brother. “Fred. Nice to meet you. I'm Maggie.”



Fred shook my hand as well, nearly as smoothly as his brother had. As I looked closer, I noticed that Fred had just a slightly darker shade of eyes than his brother, almost unnoticeable. His lips quirked in a knowing smile as he held my hand, only he dared to raise my hands to his lips. A thrill shocked down my spine at the contact. All of a sudden I felt a little warm, my cheeks flushing ever so slightly.



“Pleasure,” he returned, eyes boring into me. He even leaned forward and raised a hand to my face, gently brushing back a stray lock of hair that had fallen out of its bindings. I shivered again at his touch, utterly confused by the feelings that were running through me.



I eyed him curiously, not making a move to push him away. In fact, I had the strangest urge to move closer to him, to let his hand touch my face and bring me to him. All I wondered for a moment was how his hair would feel in my fingers. My heart was beating a little faster, making my breasts rise and fall a little quicker.



A hand touched my back. Slowly, as if in a trance, I turned. George was looking at me, all too close. His fingers were tracing a tattoo on my bare skin, and he was sharing the same heated look that his brother had. There was something about these boys, I could feel it. Couldn't explain it, but I could sure feel it. Swallowing hard and realizing I had terrible dry mouth, I slowly disengaged myself from both their grasps and reached for the tea, drowning my flush in the spicy rush that ran through me as I downed the rest of the cup.



“You feeling all right there, luv?” Fred asked, sneaking a bit of whipped cream from my shake.



And sadly, my eyes were riveted to his lips as they licked the cream off his fingers. It could have been because it had been far too long since I'd last gotten laid. Could be because it was just the right time when my hormones were ready to explode. Whatever the cause, I had no justification for the shameless staring I did, or the warmth that was already running through me because of these two young men that, for some reason, had decided to sit down with me.



“Great.” My voice didn't really crack. Or so I kept telling myself.



Clearing my throat, I drew myself up. I so did not want to let on what they were doing to me. For all I knew, they were just that damn charming, or had cast a charming spell on themselves. Or me, for that matter. And yet, I knew better.



“So will you be a seventh year this year, Maggie?” Fred asked.



I nearly sputtered, then giggled a little. “You think I'm a student?”



He shrugged. “What else?”



That time I laughed. I had always looked younger than what I was. “No, no. I've been out of school for some years now. It's actually been about four years since I've been out.”



Fred raised his eyebrows. “Really. I thought for sure you were in for a final year.”



I shook my head. “Nope. I'm twenty two, darlings. Sorry to break your hearts.”



George looked positively giddy. “Break our hearts? No, not hardly, luv. I've always had a thing for slightly older women. Haven't you, Fred?”



“Absolutely. Only when they look as good as she does though,” answered Fred.



I eyed them both curiously. “And should I be walking away before the police get me for soliciting minors?”



George looked nearly affronted, then laughed. “Luv, we're both eighteen. No worries there, all right? But I'm flattered you were worried about our innocent selves.”



“And yet somehow I get the feeling you two are far from innocent.” I looked slyly from one to the other.



Fred returned the look with interest. “Well, that really depends on what you think is innocent nowadays, don't you think? Now you, for example, are the quintessential paradox of innocence and... well, not.” He grinned.



Deciding to be a little bold, I held myself up straight and tossed my hair back a little haughtily. “I would never claim to be that innocent.”



The brothers exchanged a look that was purely an inside joke. I decided not to bother trying to decipher it; it would only mean trouble. Of course, the route I was going, I was going to find myself in deep trouble soon enough.



“Anyway,” I said, breaking the silent exchange. “I think innocence is just a game anyway. Deep down, everyone's got one thing on their mind.” I paused, taking in their silent anticipation. “Mischief.”



The boys laughed, leaning back. “Mischief,” Fred repeated, grinning from ear to ear. “That's one way to put it. And we are the masters of mischief.”



I raised an eyebrow. Reaching for the shake, I took a slow sip. It was thick, chocolately, even a little chunky. Those were real chunks of dark chocolate in there, I could taste it. Before I could stop myself, the words were out of my mouth. “You realize that chocolate, especially dark chocolate, is a powerful aphrodisiac.”



The look the two guys exchanged was purely male. As they looked from one another back to me I could practically hear their thoughts. Or at least read the heat that was radiating off them. “Well, isn't that an interesting fact,” George said, tossing his hair back once more.



“I was thinking the same thing,” answered Fred. He leaned forward and snatched another bit of whipped cream. Again, my eyes were drawn to his lips as he sucked it off, a dribble of chocolate sliding down his finger which his tongue promptly snaked out to catch. I blinked hard, trying to swallow a little moan that was wanting to come out. And Fred knew how intently I was watching him, too. That little smile touched his lips, his eyes practically inviting me to slide on over onto his lap and finish the job.



I had to regain control. I had to ease my nerves a little bit. These two were ganging up on me, and it was just not fair.



“SO,” I said loudly, sitting up straight once again. I decided to play a little of my own particular brand of game. I glanced up as a few owls came flying in, their wings spread beautifully around them. I leaned back in my chair, and touched the amethyst oval that hung around my neck and nestled itself at the top of my breasts. Sure enough, Fred's eyes drifted downward.



“So tell me about your business,” I said, casually toying with the amulet. I actually was interested to hear about the increasingly famous Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and those who created them. “Tell me about how it all came to be.”