Chapter Text
Well, it's all an adventure
That comes with a breathtaking view
Walking a tightrope with you
(Tightrope - The Greatest Showman)
September 2, 1994
------ .F.W. ------
The title of Trizard Champion and eternal glory, while certainly intriguing, were not all that enticing to Fred Weasley. One thousand Galleons in prize money, however...
That had the potential to be life-changing.
He and George had been kicking around the idea of starting their own joke shop for a couple of years now but had gotten much more serious about it during the past school year. They had finally moved out of the research and experimental phases with a couple of their product ideas and had started seeing success in actually producing them.
Testing that Ton-Tongue Toffee on Harry’s pig of a cousin had been the highlight of their successes so far.
But things were not working out too well for them at the moment.
After their successful test on Harry’s cousin, their stock had been ransacked by their mum. She had been quite thorough and had unfortunately managed to dispose of almost all of it. They had thought that the lecture they received about their O.W.L. exam results a few weeks prior had been rough, but it was nothing compared to the tongue lashing they received after that incident.
Then there was the problem of funding. Their winning bet at The Quidditch World Cup would have given them the capital that they needed to move forward with more production. Except there was the small problem in that the coins had disappeared, literally, out of thin air.
They suspected that Bagman, flighty as he seemed, had simply made a mistake in paying them in Leprechaun Gold. They had sent him a letter about it already and were awaiting his owl back.
In the meantime, their plans for production had to be put on hold. Between the two of them, they didn’t even have two Sickles to rub together. And Merlin knew that their mum would send them a Howler if they had the nerve to ask for any money.
Dad had told her about the bet. Thankfully, she had been more relieved that they had all gotten out of there alive than she was angry about them gambling, but it had been a close call. And she certainly would remind them of that should they ask for any money.
For now, they were stuck.
But one thousand Galleons. That kind of money could fund more production and give them at least a down payment toward a storefront. If they could find a really good deal, it may even be enough to buy a storefront outright. It would change everything.
They needed to find a way around that age restriction.
Hermione was likely right - she had a rather annoying habit of being so. A simple Aging Potion would probably not be able to get them past whatever protections Dumbledore planned to set up around whoever the impartial judge was who would be selecting the Champions. She had lectured them about it thoroughly after the Welcome Feast the previous night after complaining about how dangerous the whole tournament seemed.
She likely hadn’t realized that her lecture would only cause them to look for another solution instead of putting them off of the idea of entering altogether. Bless her.
The problem with the Aging Potion, Fred reasoned, was that the effects were temporary. And, since it was simple enough to come by or brew, Dumbledore would make sure to protect against it. But if he and George could either find a way to adjust the original potion to make the effects permanent or create something of their own...
Well, that idea was crazy enough that it just might work.
It was time to get to work. But first, breakfast - and classes - he supposed. He rolled out of bed, quickly dressed, pulled his twin out of bed to join him, and together they headed down to the Great Hall.
It was good to be back.
------ .H.G. ------
All that anyone seemed to be able to talk about was the stupid Triwizard Tournament. Hermione couldn’t believe that something as trivial as another incredibly dangerous sporting event was being talked about over the injustice that was taking place within the castle walls.
Slave labor.
Slave labor made their meals, tended the common room fires, and cleaned the castle. Hermione couldn’t believe that this was happening at Hogwarts, of all places.
Harry had told her all about Dobby and how he was treated by the Malfoys. She had seen firsthand how quickly Mr. Crouch had turned on Winky after the World Cup. She couldn’t understand how this was still allowed to happen. Why did no one else seem upset by this?
And how had she not known ? She had spent the last three years in the castle, for Godric’s sake. She had been truly blindsided to find out that house elves were being used here.
She had been up far later the night before than she had originally planned. She was just too upset to sleep. She was also hungry, since she had refused to eat dinner at the Welcome Feast after finding out that Hogwarts had house-elves in the castle, but that was neither here nor there.
She had to do something.
Unfortunately, she was a bit at a loss as to what to do. She would have to make a trip to the library today when she had a break in her schedule. But for now, she took a seat at the Gryffindor table across from Harry and Ron, loaded up her plate, and quickly dug in.
Hermione could feel their eyes on her. Looking up, she saw their amused grins and knew she was in for it. “What?”
“So...we see you decided to end your hunger strike,” Harry said, clearly teasing.
“Well yes, obviously,” Hermione scoffed. “I realized that there are better ways for me to fight for equal rights for house-elves than refusing to eat.”
“I’m sure. And it looks like you were hungry,” Ron replied, laughing. Hermione just shrugged, conceding the point, as Professor McGonagall made her way down the table distributing timetables. Accepting hers with a smile to her favorite professor in thanks, she studied their schedule for the year.
“We’ve got a busy day today. We’re outside all morning - Herbology, then Care for Magical Creatures. Arithmancy after lunch for me while you two are in Divination.” Hermione pointed her fork at the boys. “I don’t understand why you are still taking that course. It is completely useless.”
“Trust us, we know your feelings about Divination,” Ron said as he rolled his eyes at her. “We should actually head out soon if we don’t want to be late.”
Harry and Hermione both turned to Ron and gaped. “Since when are you the responsible one to worry about leaving breakfast on time, mate?” Harry asked with a grin.
“Just want to save us from getting lectured by Hermione,” Ron replied. She would have been hurt if she hadn’t noticed the teasing glint in his eyes. “This actually saves us from two lectures, Harry. One about how we are wasting our time with Divination, the other about the importance of being on time to class.”
“You do realize I can multitask, right Ronald?” Hermione said with a smirk. She took a final bite of toast, gathered her bag, and stood up from the table. “I am perfectly capable of lecturing you about both topics while we walk to the greenhouse.”
Harry let out a laugh while Ron groaned. Both boys grabbed their bags and the trio headed outside for their morning lessons.
------ .F.W. ------
Walking up to the Gryffindor table after their last class of the day, Fred, George and Lee Jordan, their best friend, slammed their bags down, startling Hermione and Ron, and drawing a laugh out of Harry as they each took a seat.
“What classes did you lot have today?” Ron asked around a bite of his dinner.
“Defense with Moody!” Fred replied, reaching for some pumpkin juice. “How cool is he?”
“Best lesson we’ve ever had,” George supplied. “Never had one like it.”
“What was it like?” Hermione asked, glancing up from the Arithmancy textbook she had propped up on the table.
“It was intense,” Fred replied. “He really knows his stuff. Knows what it’s like to be out there fighting the Dark Arts. He was pretty high up in the ranks with the Aurors, so he’s seen it all.”
He watched as Harry dug through his bag and pulled out his timetable. “We don’t have him until Thursday,” Harry said, obviously disappointed.
Fred nodded. “It’ll be worth the wait. I swear, his class was the only one that was actually worth going to today.”
Fred couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out at the look of horror on Hermione’s face after his last comment. Hermione looked like she was about to launch into another lecture about responsibility, but he continued on.
“Don’t worry, Hermione. We’re not going to skive off all of our classes except Defense. We just have other things we would rather spend our time on right now. Like figuring out a way around the age restriction for the tournament.”
Fred shook his head at her when he saw her open her mouth to interrupt. “Which you’ve already expressed your opinion about, so no need to do it again,” he finished quickly before she could jump in, pointing his fork at her with a grin.
She rolled her eyes at him and shrugged. “Don’t worry, I know a lost cause when I see one. Since my time would obviously be wasted worrying about you lot getting yourselves killed,” she said, looking between him and George, “I’m going to head to the library.”
He saw Ron’s head snap up quickly. “Library?” Ron asked, confused. “What are you going to the library for? We didn’t get assigned any homework today, did we?”
“No, but I have a lot of research to do,” Hermione replied as she stuffed her book into her bag and stood up from the table. “House-elves deserve so much better than the way that they are treated. Something has to be done. And since, as I mentioned, trying to keep these two from doing something stupid like trying to enter the tournament is a lost cause, I’m going to worry about the elves instead.”
“For the record, Georgie and I aren’t the only ones. Lee is in on it too.”
“Oh no, don’t drag me into this,” Lee said, holding up his hands. Hermione scoffed, took a last sip of her pumpkin juice, and grabbed her bag.
Fred shook his head, amused, as he watched her turn on her heel and leave the Great Hall.
He and George had always enjoyed riling Hermione up. It was all in good fun, of course. While they definitely didn’t always see eye to eye with her, she was incredibly bright and was always good for a conversation about magical theory. That had helped them sort out ideas for products a few times. Not that they would ever tell her that - they were sure she would not approve.
Plus, her hair got even more riotous when she was riled up. Sometimes, it seemed like it would actually spark - like her magic was coursing through it, looking for a way to escape. It was terrifying, really. But kind of beautiful, too. He just tried not to get too close when that happened.
Turning back to Ron and Harry, his eyes lit up with mirth. “So, tell us, what is the story behind a rumor we heard earlier about a certain bouncing ferret?”