Episode 5

Episode 5

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- You know, brother, I've been thinking... We should really learn some foreign languages in case we have to flee the country," Dudley said thoughtfully as he chewed on his delicious steak. - French, German, a couple more of the basic ones...

- Spanish," Potter said without taking his eyes off his reading of some book. - There's a lot of Spanish-speaking people in the world.

- Exactly! - Dursle exclaimed, pushing the emptied plate away from him, which he promptly magically emptied. - And we should find out if we can't learn languages through magic.

- And before school, you can go to France with the help of the Night Knight," Harold smiled dreamily, finally showing up from behind his scientific transfiguration book.

- Oh, yes! Could we have thought a year ago that we would be living like this..." Dudley got up from the oak table to walk a few steps and then turned and fell back onto his bed, sinking into the softest featherbed.

The cousins had been staying for weeks in a small magical inn that old Bill had advised them to stay in. In exchange for some information about the situation in the magical world, he willingly shared the information with the children. It turned out that Slanted Alley wasn't the only magical street in Britain hidden from Muggles. There were other, much less popular places, one of which the boys lived in. It was a huge square, Merlin Square, which had a loop through the Alley, but which for some reason, not many people got to, as if it itself repelled unwanted visitors. Unless it was purebred aristocrats of the magical world who frequented it, because they knew of its existence from their ancestors. But life and commerce flourished in the square, and in the narrow lanes that surrounded it. So, for example, the cousins settled in an inn, which, like old Tom's bar, was one of the exits to Muggle London. But the prices here were much lower, the service and decor were better, and the people were nicer. And the people were reasonable, they didn't ask too many questions.

The innkeeper, easily recognizing the new guest by the scar on his forehead, was only glad, muttering something about how at least "their hope" was "one of their own. What did he mean by "his own"? That Harry was neither a fanatic of "light", nor a fanatic of "purity of blood", nor a ministerial sycophant, nor a Dumbledore puppet, and therefore was closer to "ordinary wizards", who simply lived and worked quietly for themselves and family, not wanting to get involved in wars.

But what was most important, for the cousins, was that the exit from the inn led to a disadvantaged area of London. That is, what the petty pickpocket thieves who turned out to be magicians needed. Here they quickly found out that in places full of sorcerers, they were free to sorcery themselves. They didn't need the money anymore either, because magic allowed them to hide their identities and sell the gold created by the Philosopher's Stone to Muggles. Though they didn't stop stealing either, just so they wouldn't lose the skill. Any knowledge of both the Muggle and magical worlds was available to them, and the principles kept them safe from the lower classes of the two worlds. What else did two orphans, used to taking care of themselves, need to be happy?

What had they been doing all the time since the end of the school year? First they did the assignments given by the professors for the summer. Then they paid a few "courtesy visits" to friends and pals: the Longbottoms, Bones, Malfoys, Nottes, Greengrasses, McMillans, Finch-Flechlies, Corners, Butts. The cousins were very surprised by the number of invitations, but turned none down, simply finding the introductions useful. They had the opportunity to get to both mages and muggles, so they visited friends. Many offered them a visit, but the boys refused, even when offered by Lucius Malfoy himself, who apparently wanted to bend the hero of the magical world to his side. By the way, the boys did not want to stay away from this family because they only vaguely knew the etiquette of the magical world, which the Malfoys observed strictly.

And now, after all this, the cousins were seriously considering what to do, for survival was no longer an issue for them. Languages and countries where they could practice them seemed like a good idea...

***

- Harold? Dudley? - The Weasley twins were immensely surprised, having once met acquaintances where they had hoped not only they would not meet acquaintances, but where their parents would not find them. And it happened at the magical fountain in that very square...

- Fred? George? - The cousins were almost as surprised as they were, literally bumping into the twins during their morning run.

- What are you doing here?! - in four voices, they all said.

- Living," also in four voices answered.

- Alone?! - and again it was said together.

- Yes," laughed the four of them as well. The situation was hilarious, no matter how much they laughed. Hiding from each other after that was silly, so Harry invited the twins to the nearest Muggle cafe. There they got to talking and found out that the twins, having broken up with their mother, had run away from home and used the small savings they had accumulated from bets with fellow students (including the one on Neville) to rent themselves a small room in the cheapest and trashiest hotel in the vicinity of the square.

The cousins told me a little about themselves, too. Particularly about how Dudley's parents had died, how they had run away from the orphanage and lived for several years without adult care. The only thing they didn't talk about was how they made a living.

The Weasley twins turned out to be great guys and talented wizards, especially in potions and spells like Dudley. It was just their talent that was overlooked behind their shenanigans, which had to be invented, brewed, and crafted. In fact, that was the reason for their falling out with Molly Weasley.

But the twins were running out of money, and with it came their plight. Without their parents, they were helpless. The Weasleys were about to start stealing to support themselves, because their inventions, poorly tested, were not being bought. And they didn't want to go back to the family, not realizing their happiness. The orphan cousins were hurt, and with a sigh and a glance, they began to supervise the older ones, knowing much better the realities of adult life. After all, they had gotten the Philosopher's Stone for free, and it was foolish to be greedy with it. Soon they moved into the inn, and slowly they learned to cook, darn, wash, take care of themselves and each other, and... to defend themselves without magic, and to make money.

No, the cousins didn't teach them how to steal, though they told them they had. They taught the twins how to buy goods and sell them at three times the price, first overcharging customers five or ten times, and then, allowing them to haggle for up to three times the price of the purchase. True, the twins' lodging, clothing, and food were still provided by their cousins, whose lives, unexpectedly found friends, had brightened and diversified.

Fred and George forgot all about home...

***

- So, off to Paris? - smirked Harold, holding his wand in the balance and glancing at his small posse, consisting of his loyal and devoted brother Dudley and two grateful to the point of impossibility, and therefore also very loyal twin friends Fred and George Weasley. Potter's leadership was not questioned by any of his three companions, and so he was basically the one who set the goals for them all for the near future.

- EE! - All three of them yelled a French yes. Harry defiantly dropped his wand from his hand, and moments later, all four with small backpacks behind them, were hopping into the Night Knight, ignoring the customary greeting of Stan Shanpike, the bus conductor.

Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Rome, Sofia, Prague... They had a great summer, and even the adults barely stirred them!

***

- Dread, Forge, what are you doing? - Harry wondered when he saw the twins leaning over the tub, both of them stirring a very black colored slurry.

- Can't you see, Harry? We're dyeing our hair," one of the Weasleys responded, muffled.

- Oh, why? - Potter asked again, no longer surprised by anything. Finally, the boys distracted themselves and looked cheerfully at the national hero:

- We read in Witchpolitan...

- ...that red is no longer fashionable for wizards," Fred rolled his eyes in a picturesque way, curling his lips in disdain at his brother's red hair.

- Black hair is in vogue..." George nodded in agreement.

- ...and bright green eyes.

- Yeah, and a scar on his forehead," Harold chuckled, guessing what the twins were getting at. He tossed his wand in his hand and offered: - I can help with the scar...

- Oh no, Dark Lord, have mercy! - The jokers pleaded, falling at the "lord's" feet. All three laughed. But soon there was no time for laughter: the twins looked good with black hair, and they did not seem to intend to change their color. Hogwarts and the Weasley family were in for a shock...

***

- Mm, so where are we, smartasses? - Harry asked his companions with lazy interest, shifting a large lollipop from one cheek to the other.

- I think it's Lute Lane," George surveyed his surroundings through an imaginary monocle with the look of a scholarly expert.

- You mean we're lost again? - Dudley chuckled.

- "Not yet, Dud, but I have a feeling we're close to it," his cousin cheerfully supported him, squinting at the twins.

- Lute goes out on Kosua," Fred scratched the back of his head with a sigh. He and his brother had suggested they take a shortcut to the Alley so they wouldn't have to walk across the square and then down the entire length of the street they were looking for to the stores they wanted. However, they seemed to have miscalculated the route. And the longer they wandered, the sadder the expression on their faces and the more amused the cousins became. The twins began to suspect that it wasn't they who were driving the little troop in circles, but they were being led around by the nose...

- Yes? Then why have we turned eighteen times, and in different directions, but still, at the twenty-fourth time we are in this place? - Harold raised his eyebrows. He was most amused by the fact that they couldn't get back to the square or out on Kosua, and had no one to ask for directions. He would have thought someone had cursed them, but none of the four felt magic.

They had five more hours of wandering to do, and that was only because they had been lucky enough to meet Theodore Nott and his father, who had led them to Kosua Alley.

- Oh, the light of my eyes! - exclaimed all four of them in sync, dropping to their knees over their relieved and pounding feet as they saw the familiar Florian Fortescue Café. The Nottes looked at each other perplexedly and shrugged their shoulders...

***

- Oh, Merlin! If it isn't Harry Potter! - exclaimed Goldsmith Locons, the great writer, holder of the Order of Merlin of some degree and the prize for the most charming smile according to the readers of Witchpolitan, pulling the true celebrity out of the crowd and hoping to gain additional admirers at his expense.

- Man, get your hands off me! I don't know you! - Potter bellowed not too sincerely. - Man, are you a pedophile?!

- Harry, smile, we'll grace the front page of the Daily Prophet! - ...asked Goldilocks perplexedly but insistently.

- You have invaded my personal space, if you do not immediately remove your hands, I will be forced to defend myself! - Harold was already shouting, actively wresting himself from the unexpectedly strong grip. His small posse, the Nottes, and the Malfoys who had already met him in the bookstore could barely contain their laughter. But Locons didn't understand Harry's resistance, and so he continued to hold him. In vain. As soon as he dragged the Boy Who Survived under the sights of the photographers, the national hero twisted him into a ram's horn, under numerous photoflashes. Even Lord Lucius Malfoy couldn't stand it, trying to hide his laughter behind a cough. The Weasley twins had long since gasped hysterically on the floor. Potter smiled affectionately at the shopkeeper, "I don't know what's going on here, but I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your customers in line," he said as he paid for his purchases and peered at the title and authorship of the brand new textbooks, immediately exclaiming as he recognized the familiar name of the author of the long read books, "Oh, that Locones again! It would be interesting to have a look at him. He must look like a puffed-up turkey and suffer from an acute stage of narcissism... Too bad for him. And us. After all, if our new professor is a fan of this Lokons, we won't pass our exams. - The public, so beloved of Harold's manipulation, was evenly divided: the male half of it was trying to hold back hysterical laughter, the female half was torn between its two heroes...

Locons had never felt so humiliated...

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