[DISCONTINUED] Speak of the Devil // Fred Weasley

August 1997 Part 1

"Rhi! You can't blame me! It was a month ago!"

Ginny ran down the stairs after her best friend who had yet again brought up the embarrassing situation that had occurred that fateful July morning.

"Actually, Ginny, I can and I will."

"You're impossible."

Ginny exclaimed as Rhiannon turned the corner and ran into the kitchen.

"So are you, stupid."

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It was Rhiannon's second to last day at the Burrow and she was nowhere ready to leave. Unless you count her loss of speech and bright red face every time Fred was in the same room as a reason to leave.

"Morning, Evans! Mum, Ginny."

Quipped George as he made his way into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley and the girls were fixing the mess Ronald and Harry had made in the kitchen the night before. There was broken glass everywhere; brown, reeking goo all over the countertop and floor; and a pile of empty glass jars surrounding the boys' cauldron. 

Apparently, Professor Snape had assigned the two of them summer work which neither had completed and both had remembered promptly at three in the morning. To everyone's surprise, excluding Fred's, Mrs. Weasley wasn't mad at either of the boys for making such a mess, or for leaving it there to stew overnight as they slept on the floor of Ron's room. As they repaired the last of the damaged glassware and scrubbed the final ounce of goo away, they were nowhere near prepared to sit down for the very odd breakfast that awaited them.

As the ladies were cleaning, George had cooked up a rather plentiful feast. One which they neglected to notice because of two things. One, the thought of George cooking seemed impossible. And two, the violent smells and sounds of them cleaning Harry and Ron's chaos made it impossible to tell that something was being made. 

Of course, George had never actually cooked on his own before and hadn't the slightest idea of what to make, so he improvised. George had made a little bit of everything, perhaps too little, but it was a lovely effort. He laid out a plate of eggs, a strange bowl of meat that no one touched, two pieces of toast, 3 cups of coffee, 4 cups of black tea, and raw green beans. 

Why George chose those things or those quantities no one knew, but Molly, in the good mood she was feeling, gave him a pat on the back and thanked him for the Avante-Garde breakfast. As expected, it was not nearly enough for everyone to eat a proper meal, even without Fred and his monstrous appetite. So, while the men of the house cleared the table, Molly pulled Rhiannon aside and asked her to go to Diagon Alley to find something more suitable to eat for lunch. As Rhiannon walked over to grab a handful of Sickles from the drawer Molly had pointed out to her, she heard George pouting from the kitchen.

"Why did no one eat the stoat I made?"

"Don't worry, dear, we can all try some later."

"Hagrid taught me how to make it..."

After Mrs. Weasley chimed in, George beamed proudly at the small red bowl he held in his hands.

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Within the hour, Rhiannon had made her way over to Diagon Alley, still curious but thankful for Fred's prompt disappearance. She wandered the narrow streets and searched for the restaurant where Mrs. Weasley had instructed her to order their lunch. Just a few meters down the street, she spotted a tall brick building with flashing blue lights hanging in front of it, just as Molly had described it. Then again, with more than half of Diagon Alley shut down, it wasn't hard to miss. As she approached the slender building, she could smell the fresh bread, flavorful stews, and fresh cheeses being made inside.

"Constantino's Diner"

Rhiannon read the name out loud as she pushed open the heavy, wooden door, revealing...

A/N: Did I make a cliff-hanger? Yes. Did I purposefully avoid putting Fred in this chapter for "dramatic effect"? Also yes. Don't worry, it'll all make sense when the next chapter is up.