Fred and George and the Elixir of Life (Year 2) (WAITING...)

Chapter 2:2

George was whistling when he tripped on the top step. The pot rolled free of his grasp and fell with a thud. Sand went flying down the hallway rug, only to come swirling back a moment later.

"Mum, you forgot to remove the enchantment!"

"Leave it on the landing," Molly called. "I'll get to it later."

As George got to his feet, his legs wobbled unsteadily beneath him. "I've... made a tactical error."

Still getting your sea legs? thought Fred.

George heard his brother clearly in his mind and replied by tossing the pot to him.

"Give that a bit of a go, why don't you," he said aloud, as Fred looked suddenly panicked. "Losing your grip?"

"Not... quite..."

As far as I'm aware, ten of our collective twenty fingers still work, George boasted in thought. Let me check.

He opened his palms and inspected them proudly while Fred struggled to keep hold of the pot. It dropped a second time. He looked down at his hands and shook them with a scowl.

"Damn it all. Useless George-body..."

"I'll have you know, I used it rather well for several years, thank you."

George stumbled toward their bedroom door, where Fred was struggling to open it. George reached forward and turned the knob. They walked in and shared a look that said it all. After three months, the twins were still having terrible trouble adjusting to their new bodies. So they fell onto their beds and brooded (for the usual amount of time).

Fred looked at the calendar on the wall and groaned at how many days they had left in August — how many days before they would be leaving for Hogwarts from platform nine and three-quarters. He reached for his wand on the nightstand. It toppled from his grip within seconds.

"That could prove difficult," he said, sitting up.

"Fred's basically a Muggle now, have you heard?" George muttered. He nodded to the pillow beside him as if they were deep in conversation. "You're so right. How very, very sad."

"I should probably be down there practicing with Ron. You'll have to do the brotherly thing when we get to school and write my lines for me, George."

"Afraid not, butterfingers. And, in all fairness, Fred — it was you that swallowed the pill."

"Would you have rather I let you turn into Aruzula Darc?"

"At least then we'd know what she was up to. I think you just didn't want to share a room with her," said George. He reached under his pillow for a crumpled newspaper, as Fred went after his wand. "It's been twelve whole weeks and they've made no mention of Aruzula Darc in the Daily Prophet. Do you think Dumbledore's caught her yet?"

"Well, if we get the chance," Fred grunted while failing to pinch his wand from the floor, "remind me to thank the old bird for ruining my body — er — your body..."

"I'm worried I might never sit on a broom again."

"Even if I'm able to hold my wand, there's no guarantee it'll even work properly. Same goes for you, actually."

"Why didn't we perform any real spells after the transformation?" said George quickly. "Don't know what we were thinking."

"It'll have to wait until we get to school, but we'll get it sorted," said Fred.

"No choice in the matter. It's not as if we can keep tricking Mum into performing magic for us."

"Speaking of."