DRARRY - Wonderful Wheezes

Chapter Fifteen

AN: this chapter is the reason this fic is rated Explicit.

Harry woke up at 4 am, but it wasn't from nightmares. Something was tapping at his window.

Warily, he unlatched the lock and swung it open.

In flew an owl with more missing feathers than it had left, swinging this way and that, slamming into Harry's lamp (which he caught, barely!) and careening toward his desk but missing, landing in a heap on the floor.

The owl hopped to its feet, shaking itself off and holding out the letter expectantly.

"Errol?" he asked.

The owl dropped the letter, cooing softly.

"Ah, you sorry sod."

Harry tossed Errol a treat as he scooped the letter off the floor. The owl did not make the catch, bending over to peck at every spare bit of carpet looking for it.

Harry sighed.

The letter was addressed to him, only Grimmauld scribbled beneath his name, with no other identifying information. He supposed Errol wouldn't need it.

Harry tore the letter open, scanning over the unfamiliar handwriting. He'd expected Mr or Mrs Weasley, of course, but it wasn't.

Only give up if you want to

-George

Harry stared at the writing for a moment, uncomprehending.

Then he rushed through the house, banging on Ginny and Ron's doors.

"Wake up, wake up! We've got things to do."

Ron's door flew open a moment later and he appeared in his pants, wand in hand, turning his head frantically this way and that.

"What, what?! Is the bloody house on fire?"

"I got a letter."

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

Ginny's door opened then and she peeked out, eyes bloodshot. At least she hadn't been sleeping. That was a bear that, now that he thought about it, he didn't want to poke.

"It's from George. He says I don't have to give up the shop!"

Ginny stared blankly. "Why is he talking? Ron, make him stop talking. It's 4 am."

"I'm bloody trying here."

"Aren't either of you hearing me? The grand opening's back on!"

"When was it off?" Ron said.

"I have to start working immediately. I have to go to the shop and clear all the orange stuff, and start the product manufacturing, and convince Rita to run the announcement again,  and tell Draco not to call off the other inspector and—"

"His mouth is still moving," said Ginny, stifling a yawn.

"It's hurting my brain too bad. I can't figure out how to make it stop."

A light appeared at the end of the hallway, growing closer, and then Hermione joined them, standing in a pale blue nightgown, hair spilling freely in curls down her back.

"Mione, you're smart, make him shut up already."

"Please," Ginny agreed. "So tired."

"Growing woozy," Ron continued. "Might not make it much longer. Send a message to mum for me when I'm sent away to Azkaban, telling her I did what I had to do."