A Recipe for Laughter

They all looked round, and within a split second, they had dived away from the table. Fred and George had bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of Butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, complete with a knife, to hurtle through the air towards them. The stew skidded the length of the table and came to a halt just before the end, leaving a long black burn on the wooden surface; the flagon of Butterbeer fell with a crash, spilling its contents everywhere; the bread knife slipped off the board and landed, point down and quivering ominously, exactly where Sirius's right hand had been seconds before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" screamed Mrs Weasley. "THERE WAS NO NEED – I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS – JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW, YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" said Fred, hurrying forward to wrench the bread knife out of the table. "Sorry, Sirius, mate! Didn't mean to-"

Harry and Sirius were both laughing; Mundungus, who had toppled backwards off his chair, was swearing as he got to his feet; Crookshanks had given an angry hiss and shot off under the dresser, his large yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. Hermione went over to make sure he was alright.

"Boys," Mr Weasley said, lifting the stew back into the middle of the table, "your mother's right; you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now you've come of age-"

"None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs Weasley raged at the twins as she slammed a fresh flagon of Butterbeer onto the table, spilling almost as much again. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy-"

She stopped dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband, whose expression was suddenly wooden. Hermione held her breath. Next to her, Ginny stiffened.

"Let's eat," said Bill quickly, defusing the tension.

All of the guests took a seat around the table.

"It looks wonderful, Molly," said Lupin, ladling stew onto a plate for her and handing it across the table.

For a few minutes, there was silence but for the chink of plates and cutlery and the scraping of chairs as everyone settled down to their food. Then Mrs Weasley turned to Sirius.

As Mrs Weasley and Sirius discussed the cleaning plans for tomorrow, Hermione turned her attention to Tonks. The young Auror's clumsiness and eagerness to help endeared her to Hermione, who was fascinated by Tonks' ability to transform her appearance at will.

Tonks transformed her nose between mouthfuls, one of Hermione's favourite transformations. Changing hair colour was interesting, but completely transforming facial features was beyond fascinating. Screwing up her eyes each time, Tonks' nose swelled to a beak-like protuberance that resembled Snape's, shrank to the size of a button mushroom, and then sprouted a great deal of hair from each nostril.

"Do that one like a pig snout, Tonks!" Ginny said, clapping in appreciation when Tonks obliged. "Do the one like a duck bill," she asked.

Hermione watched Tonks turn her nose into a beak that Donald Duck would be jealous of, but her attention was being pulled to a conversation Bill, Mr Weasley, and Professor Lupin were having about Goblins.

"They're not giving anything away yet," said Bill. "I still can't work out whether or not they believe he's back. Course, they might prefer not to take sides at all. Keep out of it."

"I'm sure they'd never go over to You Know Who," said Mr Weasley, shaking his head. "They've suffered losses too; remember that goblin family he murdered last time, somewhere near Nottingham?"

"I think it depends what they're offered," said Lupin. "And I'm not talking about gold. If they're offered the freedoms we've been denying them for centuries, they're going to be tempted. Have you still not had any luck with Ragnok, Bill?"

"He's feeling pretty anti-wizard at the moment," said Bill, "he hasn't stopped raging about the Bagman business. He reckons the Ministry did a cover-up; those goblins never got their gold from him, you know-"

A gale of laughter from the middle of the table drowned the rest of Bill's words. Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus rolled around in their seats.

"...and then," choked Mundungus, tears running down his face, "and then, if you'll believe it, 'e says to me, 'e says, ''Ere, Dung, where didja get all them toads from? 'Cos some son of a Bludger's gone and nicked all mine!' And I says, 'Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you'll be wanting some more, then?' And if you'll believe me, lads, the gormless gargoyle buys all 'is own toads back orf me for a lot more'n what 'e paid in the first place-"

"I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings, thank you very much, Mundungus," said Mrs Weasley sharply, as Ron slumped forwards on to the table, howling with laughter.

"Beg pardon, Molly," said Mundungus at once, wiping his eyes. "But, you know, Will nicked 'em orf Warty Harris in the first place, so I wasn't really doing nothing wrong."

"I don't know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seem to have missed a few crucial lessons," said Mrs Weasley coldly.

Fred and George buried their faces in their goblets of Butterbeer; George was hiccoughing. Mrs Weasley got up from the table hotly and fetched a giant rhubarb crumble for pudding.

....

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