That evening, to welco everyone ho for the holidays and to celebrate Fred and George's graduation, Mrs. Weasley prepared a lavish spread and invited Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, and other mbers of the Order of the Phoenix to join them. Even Professor McGonagall, who had just returned from her holiday, made an appearance.
When the door opened, and she entered the foyer, Mrs. Weasley greeted her with surprise and delight.
"I'm so glad you could co, Minerva," she said warmly, a smile lighting up her face.
"I was just in London for sothing," Professor McGonagall replied. "Sykes has developed a new healing potion said to be highly effective against wounds caused by dark magic."
"By rlin's beard, a potion for dark magic wounds..." Mrs. Weasley exclaid, clearly astonished. "That's marvelous. Do you already have it?"
"Not yet," Professor McGonagall said, shaking her head. "I've only just arrived in London."
"Are you sure it's fine to co here first? Should Arthur take you to St. Mungo's?" Mrs. Weasley offered.
"That won't be necessary. We're eting Sykes at eight, so there's plenty of ti to have dinner first," McGonagall assured her.
"We?" Mrs. Weasley glanced toward the door. "Is soone else coming?"
"No, I'm on my own," Professor McGonagall said, making her way to the dining room. "Severus won't be joining us for dinner; we'll et at St. Mungo's later."
"Very well," Mrs. Weasley replied. If it had been Snape, she thought wryly, he would have gone out of his way to avoid dining at Sirius's house.
"Mum, who's there?"
Ron and Ginny ca bounding down the stairs, only to freeze when they saw Professor McGonagall.
"Professor..."
"Professor McGonagall?"
"Hello, Mr. and Miss Weasley," McGonagall greeted them with a polite nod.
"Co in, it's a big day," Mrs. Weasley said as she ushered the professor into the dining room. She then turned back to her children. "Don't just stand there—go fetch Fred and George for dinner. They're the stars of the show tonight."
Ron and Ginny didn't move until McGonagall had entered the dining room.
"We're still on holiday, right?" Ron asked, looking uncertain.
"Apparently," Ginny sighed. "But you could always go to bed and wake up in your dorm at Hogwarts."
"I'll pass. I'm starving," Ron muttered. "But why is Professor McGonagall here? She's never been here before."
"Just because she hasn't before doesn't an she can't," Ginny replied, clearly more accepting of the situation. "Don't forget, this is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. All mbers could show up here, including Professor McGonagall."
anwhile, Fred and George Apparated directly into the dining room.
Like Ron and Ginny before them, they initially wore grins and looked ready with a joke, but their expressions turned serious the mont they spotted Professor McGonagall.
Then, rembering they were now graduates, their smiles returned as they exchanged a glance. With exaggerated enthusiasm, they stepped forward to greet her.
"Welco, Professor McGonagall..."
"It's such a pleasure to see you here..."
"Shall we show you to a room?"
"The third floor has the best sunlight," they chid in unison, sounding like overly eager real estate agents.
This exchange left Ron, who had just entered, standing rooted to the spot. His room was on the third floor, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Fred and George were doing this on purpose.
"Thank you, boys, but no," McGonagall said, her lips twitching as she suppressed a smile. "I won't be staying here."
"What a pity," Fred said, sounding genuinely disappointed.
George placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning heartbreak.
"Hurry up and get ready for dinner," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, setting a plate of fish and chips on the table. She turned to the twins. "Professor McGonagall has other obligations later, so don't be late."
"Yes, Mum."
"We're just feeling sorry for Ron..."
"He's missed his chance to boost his grades," Fred added with a grin.
As Fred and George took their seats, Ron followed, muttering under his breath.
Mrs. Weasley stood at the head of the table, beaming. "Right, first of all, congratulations to our two new graduates for successfully completing their studies and securing such bright futures..."
The room filled with applause as Fred and George stood to take exaggerated bows.
They had donned black dragon-hide jackets for the occasion and looked quite impressive.
"And now, the gifts..."
"More gifts?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
"Of course," Mrs. Weasley replied. "Bill and the others got presents for their graduations, and you're no exception. Arthur..."
Mr. Weasley hurried to present them with two small boxes. "I picked these out carefully, knowing you don't need much else."
Fred and George eagerly tore into their packages as Ron craned his neck to see what was inside.
"What is it, Dad?" Ron asked curiously.
"Ties," Mr. Weasley said proudly. "I asked Mr. Granger for advice, and he explained that Muggles wear these for work, especially in places like the Ministry of Magic. So I had him pick out two for . They weren't cheap, mind you—a single Galleon could've bought a broomstick at that price!"
Fred and George pulled out their respective ties, their initial excitent giving way to bemusent.
"Wait..."
"Dad, did you say Ministry of Magic?"
"But we're opening a joke shop. We've even secured a location!"
...
"Huh?"
Mr. Weasley paused for a mont, then pulled out two pieces of parchnt.
"But you already signed the Ministry of Magic's employnt application."
Fred and George imdiately stepped forward to inspect the papers.
[Ministry of Magic Employnt Application (Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects)]
The forms were filled out in detail, but they didn't bother reading most of it. Their attention was drawn to the end, where they froze at the sight of two familiar signatures.
It was unmistakably their handwriting, yet they were certain they had never signed anything of the sort—and would never have done so.
"This has to be fake!" Fred blurted out.
"Wait..." George's face stiffened as a mory surfaced. "Fred, do you rember right after our exams, when Cedric said he wanted to cheer up Kyle and made those two fake employnt applications?"
Fred blinked as the recollection dawned on him. It was true—such an incident had occurred.
At the ti, Cedric thought it would be funny to prank Kyle by pretending the twins were joining him at the Ministry of Magic. Amused, they had gone along with the joke.
"But those forms were fake!" Fred insisted, scrutinizing the parchnt again.
"They were," George agreed, pointing at the header. "Look—Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. I've never even heard of that departnt."
"Ahem..." Kingsley coughed lightly, clearly struggling to contain his amusent. "Actually, it's a newly established office."
Fred and George turned to him, looking more alard than ever.
"Because You-Know-Who's return has caused widespread panic," Kingsley explained, "people have been selling fake products claiming to protect against Death Eaters. To prevent these scams from harming the public, Senior Assistant Kyle proposed the creation of a specialized office, and the Minister approved it."
With a soft pop, Fred dropped the gift box he was holding.
"Right," Kingsley said, tilting his head slightly. "Congratulations—you're the first employees of the departnt. And as it happens, your office will be right next to Arthur's."
Fred and George paled. They never expected their prank to backfire so spectacularly.
If Kyle had co to them with the forms in person, they would never have signed, even as a joke. They knew him too well—any deal with Kyle always ca with strings attached.
But Cedric? That was different. In their minds, Cedric was the embodint of a Hufflepuff: honest, dependable, and loyal. When he had handed them the parchnt, they hadn't hesitated to sign, trusting it to be harmless.
Unexpectedly, Cedric—the guy with the bushy eyebrows and big eyes—had also betrayed them!
"Sure enough, no one who can be with Kyle is any good," George muttered under his breath.
He failed to notice the strange looks from everyone else in the room. Most of them had served as Defense Against the Dark Arts professors at Hogwarts and knew how close the Weasley twins were to Kyle. George's muttered complaint was almost comical; it felt like he was roasting himself.
"Can we not go?" Fred asked hesitantly. "We didn't know the truth when we signed up, so it doesn't really count, does it?"
"Exactly," George agreed with a nod.
"Of course... you can," Kingsley said. "You've been accepted, but it's entirely your choice whether you co or not."
"But..."
Before Fred and George could breathe a sigh of relief, Kingsley continued.
"Kyle said sothing about this. I believe he was referring to you, so I'll just be direct. He ntioned that if you don't follow through with your application and work at the Ministry for at least two months, he'll send Hit Wizards to Diagon Alley to inspect your shop for dark magic protections. Until the shop passes inspection, you won't be able to open for business."
Fred and George froze as if struck by lightning.
Professor McGonagall, watching from nearby, felt a small smile tug at her lips. She hadn't expected such an amusing scene when she stopped by for dinner. Seeing Hogwarts' legendary pranksters rendered speechless was a rare treat.
"I've never heard of a shop needing a dark magic inspection," Fred said through gritted teeth.
"He's just trying to trick us into going to the Ministry of Magic!" George fud.
"I must say..." Kingsley said evenly, "as Senior Assistant to the Minister for Magic, Kyle has the authority to do this. And he's no ordinary assistant—he holds more authority than most Directors or Senior Undersecretaries. I'd advise against challenging him."
Ron, unable to hold it in any longer, burst out laughing but quickly stopped when he saw the glares from his brothers.
"But Dad," Fred pleaded, turning to Mr. Weasley, "we've already paid the rent for the shop in Diagon Alley! That was a lot of money."
"It's all right," Mrs. Weasley said, waving a hand. "Kyle has taken care of it. Kreacher will oversee things, and he's arranged for two House-elves from Hogwarts who have experience running shops to help out. They'll manage the store."
"But the dark magic inspection..."
"If it's run by House-elves, the inspection isn't necessary," Kingsley said with a small smile.
"The shop stays open, and they're still working for the Ministry," Ron observed, trying to suppress his amusent. "Doesn't that an they're getting two salaries?"
"That's right," Mrs. Weasley confird. "Though House-elves don't need salaries. Kyle and I did discuss giving them a paynt—like Dobby had—but these two acted as if we'd suggested sothing terrible and started banging their heads against the wall. Kyle suggested paying them in sweets instead."
Ron's smirk faded as he took a bite of his beef pie, only to grimace at the sour lemon taste. But his discomfort went unnoticed.
Fred and George were silent for a long mont, slumping back in their chairs.
No wonder Kyle and Cedric had insisted they choose black jackets on the train. No wonder they'd laughed so hard. Everything now made perfect sense.
Though they considered resisting, it was clear Kyle had covered every possible escape route. The Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes shop couldn't open unless they fulfilled their Ministry obligation.
"Forget it—it's only two months," Fred said finally, slamming his hand on the table. "We'll do it!"
At least Kyle hadn't forced them to stay indefinitely. It was still early July, so their two months would end just before the busy back-to-school rush at the end of August. If not for that, they might never have agreed.
"Actually, you don't need to be so upset," Tonks chid in suddenly. "The job isn't bad, really. A lot of people would be happy to have it—"
"But not us," Fred muttered darkly.
"No, you..."
"Tonks," Kingsley interjected, his tone firm.
"All right, all right," Tonks said with a shrug. "I'll stop. But working there might be helpful—you could learn a lot..." She trailed off, seeing Kingsley's stern expression. "Okay, okay, I'm done."
Fred and George exchanged glances, seeming to realize sothing, but Tonks had already stopped speaking.
"Oh, and this," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling out a parchnt.
George groaned at the sight of it. "What's that, Mum?"
"A list of items in your shop," she replied.
Now that Fred and George were officially Ministry employees, Mrs. Weasley seed less resistant to their shop's existence.
"Kyle added a few things for you," she explained. "He said to cross them off if you refused to go to the Ministry. But now it seems that won't be necessary."
Fred and George leaned in to read the list together.
A map of Hogwarts
A warm-up badge
An automatic ink-producing quill
...
There were about a dozen items listed, all popular gadgets Kyle had developed during his ti at Hogwarts.
"He gave these to us?" George's eyes widened in surprise.
"We have to give Kyle his share," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "We can't just take soone else's work for free."
"Okay, okay, I was just saying..." George muttered.
"Don't worry, Mum, we won't," Fred added quickly.
As they continued to read the parchnt, their initial anger began to fade—albeit reluctantly.
This was impressive. They had to admit that the gadgets Kyle had invented were highly sought after and would undoubtedly draw attention to their shop.
Take the map, for instance. The Auto-Route Map was almost as remarkable as the Marauder's Map, except for its inability to display nas. They could already picture new Hogwarts students clamoring for such a useful item—sothing no one entering the shop would want to pass up.
Even so, their irritation with Kyle couldn't just vanish. At best, when they got their hands on him... maybe they'd spare him one punch.
"Mum," Fred said with mock innocence, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he bit into his pie. "We've just rembered sothing we left back ho in St. Catchpole Village. Can we go tomorrow?"
"Yes, it's very important," George added, narrowing his eyes conspiratorially.
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Yes, you can, but don't dawdle. Rember, you need to be at the Ministry in the morning. It's your first day, and you want to make a good impression. It wouldn't look good to be late."
"Oh, we'll hurry," Fred assured her, taking another bite of pie as if imagining it were soone.
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