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

Chapter 3:2

After breakfast, Fred and George said their goodbyes and rushed the hearth with Lee's vial of Sparkfire's Finest Floo Powder. The family joined the boys on the rug, their mother casting a foreboding look of mixed apprehension at them. As usual, it had no effect.

"Have fun," said Ron.

"Remember... Diagon Alley today," their dad mentioned as the twins stepped into the open fireplace. "I'll leave a note at the Apothecary if you can't find us."

"Ooh, the one that sells dragon dung by the handful?" Fred confirmed with enthusiasm.

"By the scoop, you mean," said Molly hesitantly. Charlie and Bill were shaking their heads. "Well, that's utterly barbaric. If you get there before us... don't... don't touch anything, do you hear?"

"Has anyone seen the spare cauldron?" Percy asked suddenly.

Molly noticed his afflicted expression. "What for? Your brothers are leaving. Can't it wait?"

"I think I'm going to be sick..."

"It's behind the washboard, Percy," Arthur replied.

"Sick? Over a handful of dragon dung?" George laughed. "You've held worse."

"I have not!"

Percy looked to Fred, who was nodding mischievously.

"Yes, you have," he said slowly.

Percy stormed up the stairs as Mrs. Weasley licked her fingers and raked Fred's hair until it looked intentionally untidy. Next, she aimed her wand at a string on George's sweater so it would loop tightly back into place. She gestured for George to step back onto the rug.

"One at a time, now..."

George stayed. "The note says we can travel together."

"Does, does it?!" she said blinking. Mr. Weasley gave her a sidelong glance. "What?" Her head trembled. "I didn't say anything."

Fred unfolded the note that had come with the floo powder while George searched for the small fire hidden between their shoes. He uncorked the vial and poured the glittery powder onto the flame. A whoosh of wind swirled around them, followed by a burst of rich and soothing orange light. George stood and clasped his hands at his waist.

"Jordan hill," Fred pronounced clearly. "Castle, East Wing."

"Oh! Castle, East Wing..."

"Molly!"

Before they could hear the commotion return, the orange light engulfed them with a roar and they sped away with amazing acceleration. The twins closed their eyes as they felt themselves coasting easily along the floo network. The usual sound of rushing voices swept past their ears as wind ruffled their red hair. And yet, it was a fantastically smooth trip. No bruises from hitting neighboring floos, no puffs of hot ash smacking their cheeks. It was a gentle transition from their home to another. They even slowed down to a stop as they reached their destination. No slamming or sliding, no lurching stomach. No spinning in place when they reached the proper grate. They just landed, as if onto a bed of feathers.

Fred and George wiped their eyes out of habit and found themselves in an immense fireplace.

"I'll never get tired of that," Fred snickered as he exited, expecting to shake soot from his hair.

George hung back uncertainly. He was taking in the size of the room before them. "Fred, I'm not entirely sure we've — come to the right place."

They were standing in a grand and opulent room, as large as the Great Hall at Hogwarts, with pristinely white walls that stretched to a coffered ceiling in hues of rich lavender. The long windows were made of enchanted stained glass, the figures playing delicately with the light. The floor looked as if it were cut from a single slab of white marble, without the faintest hint of a seam. Their eyes traced back to where they had come and noticed that the mantlepiece was also marble, carved with an ornate design of dragons and wizards surrounding a shield. Upon it, the Jordan family crest, which they recognized from the rounded lid of the silver trunk that had rested at the foot of their friend's four-poster bed at Hogwarts.