Thick as Thieves

The weeks passed by, each a little less painful than the last. I missed my father more than words could describe, but I knew I couldn't live in sorrow my whole life. Fred and George helped remind me of that. Every time they saw me on the verge of tears, they were there by my side with a new joke or product to test. I honestly wouldn't have felt any better without them always nearby.

"Okay, now keep in mind this is still a work in progress," George reminded me lightly as he tinkered with a long silver tube.

Fred added, "But it's going to be brilliant. Easy to make, but impossible to clean without the antidote."

"And what's the antidote?" I asked suspiciously, raising one of my brows.

"We're working on it… but we've got it narrowed down to four different potions." Fred told me with a pleased smile.

I was sitting on a bench, admiring Fred and George's handiwork, while my mother and Mrs. Weasley were inside of the Burrow cooking lunch.

My mother and I traveled to the Burrow often just to escape the grimness of Grimmauld Place. Of course we were so grateful to Sirius and his hospitality, but the musty home was impossible to feel at ease in. Mostly because of that bitter house elf of his, Kreacher; he was constantly reminding me my father was a mudblood and my mother a blood traitor. I felt incredibly sorry for Sirius since he could so rarely leave his home for fear of being thrown back in Azkaban.

"George, are you ready?" Fred called anxiously.

"Hang on," He said impatiently, "this knob isn't turning the right—"

While his mouth was open in mid-sentence, the silver tube exploded and rained down on George who was desperately trying to shield his head with his hands. Fred and I jumped up from the bench, scrambling backwards in order to avoid the shower of green slime. I stumbled backwards, and Fred toppled on top of me. As we laid there in the grass, staring at the slime covered George, the two of us burst into a fit of laughter.

"Oh go on, have a laugh." George grumbled as he unsuccessfully tried wiping slime off of his pants.

"Sorry mate," Fred apologized through chuckles, "but you look like a great big bogey!" George glared at his twin as he picked slime up off of the ground. I watched as he neatly lobbed the green goop together to form a slime ball. "Now George, be reasonable." Fred pleaded with his hands raised in surrender. "We don't even know if the antidotes will work!"

"Guess we'll find out," George shrugged before chucking the slime in Fred's direction.

At that moment, Ron walked out saying, "Mum's got lunch ready, and she's asked for you to—"

Splat!

My jaw fell open as I stared at Ron, now sporting a face full of slime. His mouth was open, dripping slime, and the ends of his hair were matted to his cheeks.

A long moment of silence fell over us until Ron bellowed, "What the bloody hell is this?"

Watching Ron explode was enough to cause laughter to fill all three of us, even George, still covered in the goop himself.



"Nice work here," Ron grumbled to the twins as he squirmed in his chair, "your bloody prank is going to cost me my hair!"

"Just the ends," I replied, trying to comfort him.

Ginny sighed impatiently, "Hold still, Ron!" She had his hair between her fingers as she tried snipping off the slime covered ends.

After unsuccessfully trying all four of the "antidotes", there was no other choice but to get rid of ruined clothes and chop off any hair covered in slime. Needless to say, Mrs. Weasley was not very happy with Fred and George.

"Your hair needs cutting anyway. You were starting to look like Hermione's cat." Fred grumbled to his youngest brother.

Ron snapped, "Your hair is just as long as mine!"

Ginny cut Ron's hair, as I snipped away the ends of George's. I worked carefully with the shiny silver scissors until most of his red mane was on the floor. When I was finished, I handed him a bronze mirror to examine my work. I thought I did a pretty good job, he looked rather handsome.

"Very impressive, Mia," George grinned gratefully.

I returned his smile and stood in front of him. "Not to brag or anything, but I think it looks really good." I beamed, running my fingers through his soft hair. "You look very handsome, George. Much older and quite mature."

"You should cut my hair like that, too!" Fred suddenly said. "I mean, we can't have mum being able to tell us apart, right?"

With a giggle, I agreed and got to work on Fred's hair.

By the time I was finished, we were descending the stairs and gathering around the Weasley's long table. Ron kept toying with his short hair and sighing dramatically.

"I feel like a naked fool," He complained.

Fred shrugged, "You got part of it right."

We were settling in for dinner when Mr. Weasley burst through the door. "Harry's been attacked by dementors," He said urgently, his eyes meeting Molly's. "Sirius asked us to go to Grimmauld Place to talk with him."

"Is Harry alright?" Ginny asked anxiously.

I grimaced, "Where was he even at to be attacked by dementors?"

"Harry's fine, he's with his Aunt and Uncle, but we really need to get going." Mr. Weasley insisted.

Without another word, the Weasley family, my mother and I all departed to Grimmauld Place.