Diclaimer:
Harry Potter is the property of people who are not me. Don’t mistake me for
being the owner of that billion dollar franchise, because if I did, I’d be
auctioning this off at Sotheby’s for a shiny mint. Harry Potter is the property
of J.K. Rowling and if you don’t believe it…well I just don’t know what to tell
you, you’re dumb.
The Frog Prince
Harry was working deep in the back storeroom when he heard a crash. It
wasn't entirely unusual when working in the workshop, so it didn't concern him
at first, but then it was followed by several other louder crashes, an
explosion followed by a diatribe of swear words - half of which Harry was only
vaguely familiar - and then four more loud explosions that caused the stock he
had been sorting to tumble off the shelves into a giant mess. As the avalanche
of tricks and gags from the upper shelves hit him, he turned first into a
koala, followed by a lizard, his normal self with giant house elf ears and then
finally into a frog with a tiny crown.
Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of his current state. He decided to try to call for help.
"RRRRRRRIIIIIIBIT!" he croaked.
The only other person in the store was George, as far as he was aware. He had
no way to know if George had survived the disturbance or not. Weasley's
Wizardly Wheezes was due to open again in three days and George had practically
camped out in here for the last month trying to get everything prepared for the
grand reopening. Seeing no alternative, Harry awkwardly began hoping towards
the source of the disturbance.
Hop.
Hop.
Hop.
Hop...
Harry began to wonder how it was that frogs ever managed to get anywhere. The
spilled inventory made it impossible to really see where he was going, and he
was making little progress. He attempted to hop over a large box in his way,
but he misjudged the landing and grasped at the box top for dear life as he
found himself flying over the top of it. He managed to just get two fingers on
it and was amazed as they stuck and he was able to use them to stop his
momentum, cling to the box and pull himself back up.
He lingered for a moment, crouched on the box taking in this new information.
There was another box - a long hop away, but perhaps he might be able to reach
it. He sprang from his position with all his might, but realized only after
leaping he wasn't going to make it. He hit the side of the box, desperately
stuck his cupped feet to the side of it, and found he quite easily was able to
hang onto the sheer surface. He gave a little frog huff as his crown slid down
to cover his eyes. The huffing motion causes the skin under his mouth to puff
alarmingly and he decided not to let himself get too frustrated again.
"RRRRRRIIIIIIIBIT!" He croaked.
Harry edged his way around the box and then sprung from the side to the next
box. Staying atop the strewn mass of jokes he hopped his away across the stock
room and into the laboratory to find a desolate scene. Not much of the
laboratory remained; there were charred walls and broken glass everywhere. The
workbench had been overturned and the potions that had been on top of it were
leaking from their broken containers and mixing to form a slightly purple
mixture of sludge that was giving off a bright blue smoke. Every few moments a
tiny unicorn would dart from the smoke only to dissipate a few moments later.
The only thing still standing in the room was a chair. In it was slumped George
Weasley, tears streaming down his face as his body shook. Harry had no idea
what to say, but he had to say something.
"RRRRRRRRIIIIIIBit?" he tried.
This seemed to get George's attention as he noticed Harry's intrusion into the
destroyed laboratory for the first time.
Despite the pain etched across his face, George laughed. "Don't let Ginny
see you like that, mate, she's always thought you were her Prince Charming.
She'd be likely to snog you senseless."
"RRRRRibiiiiiit!!" Harry replied.
George laughed again. “I've got an antidote for that around here somewhere.
Normally, you just have to get a bird to kiss you, and it goes away. It's a gag
for friends to use on each other, you know?" George shook his head.
"But I'm no bird, so I'm not going to kiss you.” George stepped over Harry
into the stock room. "Oh, bloody hell! Did I do all this?"
"Ribit," Harry replied
"Damn, all that work..." George sighed. "I'll probably have to
push the store opening back again. I hope the damage isn't too bad up
front." Harry followed George as he slowly started righting the tumbled
boxes. "Guess I really lost it that time."
"It's just tough, you know? When we opened this place, I never thought I'd
have to run it by myself."
"RRRRRRIIBBBIITTTTT." Harry croaked sadly.
"Oh, I know," George replied looking down at Harry. "You guys
have been a huge help. It's not that. All those gags Fred and I invented?
Well, none of them were just mine, or just his - we always...teamed up to
make them. I'd work out part, and he'd work out the next bit, and then I'd get
an idea and eventually we'd have something brilliant!" George explained,
the nostalgia dripping from his voice. "Now, I...I...I get stuck all the
time, and there's nobody to work out the next bit. It's like I'm working
without the left half of my brain. " George
fished around inside one of the boxes for a moment. "Ah, here we
are." George sprinkled some powder on top of Harry and he felt himself
growing.
Soon Harry found himself standing eye to eye with the remaining Weasley twin.
He found himself somewhat overcome, so he hugged him. He hugged George like
he'd never been hugged all those years at
"Don't ever be sorry. I can never repay you for what you lost, for
what you and your family did..." Harry said quietly.
"Nonsense," George replied. "You owe me nothing, and you owe
Fred nothing. We were doing what we wanted to do. What we had to do. We both
knew what could happen. If you'd gone back before the war...before it got bad,
and you told Fred and me that if we got involved one of us wasn't going to make
it, do you know what it would have changed?"
"I'd hope you would have stayed out of it." Harry said in exasperation.
"Bollocks!" George retorted. "Nothing would have changed,
because I would have told myself that I'd be sure that Fred was the one to make
it, and he'd have said the same about me. At the end of the day,
whichever one of us survived would still be proud that we stood up for what we
believed in. Then we'd curse the other for leaving us this damn shop full of
half-finished jokes!" George kicked the box in front of him, causing an
entire case of Helpless Harpies to scatter across the floor and start caterwauling
all over the stock room. The noise was deafening, but Harry and George were
able to silence all of them after a few minutes of work.
When he could hear again, Harry turned back to George. "It does get
easier, you know?"
"I know," George nodded. "It's already easier now, than it
was...but that doesn't help me today..."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I’ll bet that's true. How about I have a
look at that potion you were working on? I mean, I'm not a genius or anything,
but I did get an E on my potions OWL."
George scoffed. "OWLs.
Like those mean anything. I got a D on my potions OWL."
"Yeah, but I was trying!"
George grinned. "Look where it's gotten you, too. Nothing
but trouble, those OWLs. Come on then, maybe
you'll be better at making Unicorns dance. You did always have sort of a
girlish manner."
"Hey!"
George grabbed Harry in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles across his head.
Harry retaliated by tripping him to the floor and landing on top of him. They
were both laughing by then and Harry helped George back up to his feet.
"Come on, Potter, let's go see if that OWL is worth the paper it's printed
on." He looped an arm around Harry's shoulders and they walk backed to the
wrecked laboratory.