Regarding these varied opinions, Molly was deeply worried.

Of course, she hoped the children would make progress, but she hoped even more that they wouldn’t be so exhausted.

There’s no love like a parent’s for their child, after all.

After sitting for a while at the Weasley home, the Malfoys politely took their leave.

After all, Mr. Weasley wouldn’t be back for a while, and the two of them didn’t quite fit in at the Burrow.

Of course, when they left, they didn’t take Draco with them. They simply told him, "I’ll have Dobby send your clothes over," and then departed from the Burrow.

"Your mum doesn’t want you anymore," Fred said in a low voice.

"You’re talking nonsense!" Draco shot back indignantly, lifting his head.

"Your dad either," George added from the side, grinning with malicious glee.

Draco: .........

Then the twins each caught a whack from the frying pan Molly swung at them.

"Don’t be so rude!" Molly shot them a glare. "They were just letting young Mr. Malfoy head back to Grimmauld Place with Harry!" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

And she wasn’t wrong. Narcissa had originally planned to have the boy come home, but Lucius insisted that he should stay with Harry and learn some useful spells in his spare time.

Narcissa switched her stance in an instant. After all, in a wizarding world as fraught with danger as it was now, picking up a few life-saving tricks from a legendary wizard was a fine idea.

That evening, Arthur returned to the Burrow as well, with a sullen Percy trailing behind him.

"What’s the matter?" Molly asked Percy with concern.

Percy said nothing, just kept his head down, as if lost in thought.

As he stared at the floor, he was muttering under his breath, looking almost deranged.

"It’s nothing, just a little hiccup," Arthur said quietly. Once Percy had shut himself in his room, he continued, "It wasn’t what he expected. Old Barty Crouch didn’t seem to like him much—at least, he didn’t show it right away... I could even sense he was a bit displeased."

"Why?" Molly asked, frowning. "Percy’s a top graduate with twelve O.W.L.s, after all. Why would that make him unhappy?"

"Perhaps because of his son," Arthur replied. "Young Barty got twelve O.W.L.s in Ravenclaw back then, but what happened? He still ended up joining You-Know-Who—Old Barty was this close to becoming Minister for Magic, only for that mess to hand the job to Fudge on a silver platter..."

"There’s a story like that?" Sirius asked, intrigued. "Before I went to Azkaban, I always heard how Old Barty handled loads of Death Eater cases and was nearly Minister..."

"What can you do?" Arthur said with a chuckle. "Anyway... at least it’s not a bad thing, right?"

He quickly changed the subject. "All right, Sirius—Quidditch World Cup’s coming up soon. Fancy joining us for the match? I’ve invited Mr. Granger—you know, Hermione’s dad. He’s dead keen on a big event like that... As the parent of a little witch, he’s got the privilege of not needing a Memory Charm."

"I wouldn’t mind tagging along," Sirius replied, glancing back at Harry chatting with Cassandra. "But we’ve got a crowd here. We’d need a private box, not squeezing in with the rabble out there."

At Sirius’s words, Arthur slapped his forehead.

He had money now—things were different, a far cry from the days when they’d stretch every Knut like it was two.

"You’re right, Sirius," Arthur said, nodding eagerly. "Tell you what, I’ll have a word with Ludo Bagman. He’s got connections, guaranteed—he promised me he could sort tickets..."

"Ludo Bagman?" Sirius said, the name ringing a bell.

"Oh, he was a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps back in the day," Arthur explained to Sirius. "Around the time you went away. After he retired, he joined the Ministry—head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports now."

"Ah, got it," Sirius said with a nod of understanding. "In that case, sounds like he’s not all talk—Or if you’ve got time, you could introduce us. We could sit down, chat about that box."

"Sure thing," Arthur agreed with a nod.

"If I’m not mistaken," Fred muttered to George nearby, "Percy’s prepping for his Apparition test, right? You know, the one he has to pass—he’s of age now. He was going on about it over dinner yesterday... Bet that’s why he’s moping, puzzling it out."

"Apparition requires a test?" Draco asked, perking up with interest.

"Oh, yes," Arthur said, settling into a nearby chair. "Your dad must’ve told you. One time, the Department of Magical Transportation fined a pair for Apparating without a license. It’s no small thing—if you muck it up, you can cause real trouble, the nasty sort—I mean, those two ended up splinched, head and body in different places."

"Splinched?" Draco asked curiously.

"They left half of themselves behind," Arthur explained, picking up the teapot from the side table and pouring a generous stream into his cup. "So, naturally, they were stuck there, neither side able to move, and they had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort it out. Let me tell you, that means mountains of paperwork—especially with Muggles spotting their mangled bits..."

"Hope they were all right," Sirius said with a wicked grin.

"They were fine, of course, but they got slapped with a hefty fine. I reckon they won’t rush it again." Here, Arthur turned to the group, his tone turning deadly serious. "Listen, kids—don’t take Apparition lightly. Plenty of adult wizards steer clear of the hassle; they’d rather use a broom—even if it’s slower, it’s safe."

Were brooms really safe? Well, compared to Apparition, they sure were.

After spending the night at the Burrow, the group headed back to Grimmauld Place.

This time, the Weasley twins and Draco came along too.

As they reached the door, Sirius was about to turn the knob when he paused and looked back. "Oh, right—you lot—be careful. My mother’s portrait is stuck to the wall with a Permanent Sticking Charm. I hope you won’t be too startled; she’s just a painting now."

"Don’t worry, Sirius," the twins said with a laugh. "Who scares who remains to be seen."

Sirius had only spent half a year at school with them, but he’d seen enough of the Weasley twins’ wild ideas.

Yeah... no argument there. It really could go either way.

Pushing the door open, they spotted Walburga Black dozing in her portrait, a nightcap pulled over her head.

Sensing the sunlight hitting her face, Walburga cracked her eyes open in irritation.

Spotting Sirius, she just grumbled a bit and yawned.

Only then did Sirius remember—his mother’s temper had mellowed a lot. She wasn’t the type to pick a fight with everyone anymore.

She clocked the "blood traitors" from the Weasley family at a glance.

But the thing was, Harry Potter got on well with these Weasleys, so Walburga turned a blind eye.

That said, when she noticed a shock of platinum blond among the crowd, she looked distinctly pleased.

The telltale sign was unmistakable—a Malfoy, through and through.

After a brief, stiff exchange with Draco, Walburga went right back to her nap.

"All right, kids," Sirius said, raising his hand like the ringleader he was. "Go pick out your rooms— I mean the ones without names on the doors. Some are already taken, like Harry’s, or Ron’s—"

"Got it, Sirius!"

The Weasley twins finished, exchanged a glance, and bolted.

As they ran, they didn’t forget to yell, "Hurry up, or the good ones’ll be gone!"

Hearing that, Draco panicked too and dashed after them.

No one wanted the leftovers, no matter what it was about.

At dinner, Fred and George sidled up to Sirius, looking sheepish, and pulled a handful of garish candies from their pockets.

"These your prank props again?" Sirius asked, picking one up with interest. "I remember that Quick-Exit Sugar of yours from school was brilliant... So, what’s the deal with these?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffees," the twins said in unison, exchanging a look. "Pop one in, and it makes your tongue swell up huge—"

"Kids, that’s not funny," Sirius said, setting the candy down. "You know a tongue that swollen can choke someone. Pranks are fine, but if lives are at stake..."

"We know that," the Weasley twins said quickly. "Don’t worry, Sirius—these are safe. At least, you won’t die from a swollen tongue. We test our prank stuff right outside Madam Pomfrey’s infirmary..."

"So close to the hospital in case something goes wrong?" Sirius asked, smirking at them.

The twins nodded in unison. Joke’s on you—they loved pranks, but not at the cost of a life.

"Nice little gadgets," Sirius said, picking up a toffee and unwrapping the paper. Under their admiring stares, he popped it in his mouth. "Tastes good too, hmm... Let’s see the effect..."

As he spoke, Sirius’s tongue ballooned out, dangling like it’d been waterlogged for days.

He couldn’t talk, but that didn’t stop him from giving a thumbs-up.

A moment later, the prank wore off.

"I have to admit, this is a cracker," Sirius chuckled, praising them. "If I didn’t know your school marks, I’d tell you to ditch studying and pour your energy into these clever contraptions."

"But Mum thinks we’re just messing with useless junk," Fred said, shrugging helplessly. "Confiscated our supplies yesterday. If we hadn’t stashed some Ton-Tongue Toffees on the sly, she’d have nabbed the lot."

"Yeah, Mum wants us knuckling down with books, not fiddling with this rubbish all day," George chimed in. "She’d rather we end up like Bill or Charlie—proper jobs, like curse-breaker at Gringotts in Egypt or dragon-taming in Romania..."

"But that’s not the only path, kids," Sirius said, spreading his hands. "That might be what Molly wants, but it’s not for you—Trust me, I know all about being forced into what your parents pick."

He went on, "Opening a shop in Diagon Alley wouldn’t be half bad, just selling these gadgets—I know you’re all the rage at school; loads of folks buy your stuff... Maybe after graduation, you could make a go of it in that line?"

"This..."

The twins were clearly tempted. Pranks were their soul, after all.

Compared to a dull job with an end in sight from day one, they craved that wild freedom.

"Trust me," Sirius said. "Zonko’s hasn’t updated their stock in ages—I can’t remember the last time, fifteen years? Twenty? Even when we were at school, they were flogging the same old tat. Hasn’t changed in donkey’s years."

"Prank products need iterating, or you’re just coasting on fumes—who doesn’t get bored eventually?" Sirius summed up. "So the market’s ripe for you. Don’t sweat Molly’s views. Nail it, show her you can thrive without a desk job, and that’s that."

"You’re right, Sirius," the twins said, their eyes hardening with resolve. It was clear—he’d won them over completely.

They’d toyed with the idea before; Sirius had just lit the fuse.

"Then we need to start saving," Fred said with a grin. "Good thing we’ve got a tidy sum from selling pranks these past few years—Thanks to Harry’s tip two years back... At least rent’s covered. So... next up, seed money."

"Go for it!" George’s eyes blazed. "Maybe we hype our prank lineup at the World Cup this time—what do you reckon, Fred?"

"Spot on!" Fred clapped George on the shoulder hard. "Let wizards the world over see the magical mischief from Britain’s Weasley brothers!"

--

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