Old Books and Firecrackers: Chapter II

A Harry Potter Fanfic

Year 6

When Mr. Bagman offered to make a bet with them, Fred was thrilled. He and George had been wondering where they would find someone willing to take their bet. He looked at George and knew they were in agreement.

They settled the amount with Mr. Bagman, not feeling disappointed at all to have lost their pocket money. Their father wasn’t very happy about it, but Fred knew he wouldn’t mind too much when they won.

“I think it’s remarkably stupid to bet all your money on such an improbable result,” Hermione said, trailing behind with them. Fred caught George’s eye and grinned.

“Would you still think it’s stupid if we knew we were going to win?” George asked while Fred checked to make sure the rest of the family was far enough ahead not to be listening.

“I suppose not,” Hermione said, “but there’s no way you could know that.”

“Course there is,” Fred told her. “We can see the future.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“So are we,” George said. “But the rest of the family doesn’t know, so don’t mention it.”

“Of course I won’t. The idea is ridiculous. If you want me to fall for one of your pranks, you should at least try to make it a little more believable.” She huffed and ran to catch up with Harry and Ron.

When the game ended how they predicted, Fred and George collected their winnings. Fred caught Hermione watching him and George suspiciously. He winked and she scowled.

George sprinkled the last ingredient into the cauldron on the floor in front of them and stirred slowly. “And we’re done.” He grinned at Fred. “You want some?”

“Not a chance,” Fred said, inspecting the potion carefully, watching the steam begin to rise in spirals. He waited for the smell, but didn’t notice it at first, and then–

“Blimey!” Lee said, sitting up on his bed. “You really made it!” Fred grinned down at the shimmering pot of amortentia in front of them.

They had been developing a few new products for the joke shop they hoped to start when they finished school. They had already been selling a few products, but they needed a wider range. It had been Lee’s idea to create a love potion, so they had started brewing a few known types in their dormitory for research.

“So,” George began, leaning back on his hands and smirking at Lee, “what’s it smell like to you?”

Fred leaned closer to the cauldron, trying to distinguish individual scents. After a moment, he thought he had identified most of them, but some didn’t make sense.

Lee sniffed the air deeply and sighed. “To me it smells like–like broom oil, and Honeydukes, and my mum’s homemade pudding, and–and a lot of other things. What about you, George?”

George faced the cauldron again. “I smell the quidditch field, and Mum’s cooking, and a campfire.”

“I bet you smell Angelina’s perfume, too,” Fred said. George grinned.

“And what about you, Fred?” Lee asked.

Fred also smelled the fresh grass of the quidditch field and the smell that poured over you when you stepped into Honeydukes. He smelled some other things that hadn’t been mentioned as well, like hot chocolate and the distinctive smell of Zonko’s Joke Shop, but he ignored those and focused on the ones that confused him.

“I smell old books,” he said. George snickered and Lee frowned down at the potion.

“Did you brew it right?” he asked.

“I think so,” George said as he flipped through the old textbook.

As the two of them poured over the instructions, Fred tried to identify the last scent that was bothering him. It smelled like vanilla, but was vaguely flowery as well. Sure he liked vanilla, but he didn’t think that much. And what was that flowery part?

George looked up from the book. “Does it smell like anything else?”

“Yeah, loads of normal things. Stuff like you’ve both mentioned, but also–” he stopped as it occurred to him where he had smelled it before.

“But also what?” Lee asked.

Fred grinned. “Gold.”

George rolled his eyes. “Gold doesn’t have a smell.”

“Of course it does. All metals do.”

George looked up at Lee. “Does gold have a smell?”

Lee shrugged. “Do I look like I have gold to go around sniffing?” George laughed.

Fred stared at the potion as George continued insisting gold had no smell. Finally he shot to his feet. “I need some air.”

“There’s air in here,” Lee pointed out.

“And it smells rather good,” George contributed.

Fred grinned. “I need some fresh air.” He stepped out of the dormitory and through the common room, trying to avoid getting caught by anyone. He needed to be alone.

When he had climbed through the portrait hole, he found a corridor that was usually empty and leaned against the wall in a small nook.

He knew now where that scent had come from, but it meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. So maybe he happened to like the scent of Hermione’s perfume or shampoo or whatever it was. So what? The vanilla and whatever kind of flower that was just happened to smell good together. That was it.

Sure she was nice and he enjoyed teasing her, but they weren’t really friends. They only hung out because she was Ron’s friend.

But then how did he explain the books?

He had never really liked old things. Almost everything he owned had belonged to Percy or Bill or Charlie, sometimes all three, which made him more partial to new–everything really. And he had never enjoyed reading much. Why read about a thing when you could do it instead?

Well, there must be some reason for the books that he wasn’t thinking of, because he didn’t like Hermione. Not like that. He sighed and closed his eyes, then slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.

She was Ron’s friend and probably had a crush on him anyway, so even if Fred did like her, it wouldn’t matter.

He traced his finger along the patterns in the stone wall. Why did it have to be her? Why couldn’t it have been–someone else? Anyone else?

He heard footsteps and shot to his feet, leaning casually against the wall and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“There you are,” George said, coming around the corner. “You okay?”

“The room was getting a little stuffy,” Fred explained. “Sure it smelled good, but closed off like that, it got too strong.”

George nodded. “I took some notes, and then Lee and I tossed it, so you can come back up now.”

Fred nodded, trying not to worry about seeing her on the way. He grinned and elbowed George in the ribs.

“So did you really smell Angelina’s perfume?”

He should have known better. He really should have.

Hermione had been in a bad mood all week, and Fred suspected it was his brother’s fault. Apparently Ron and Harry weren’t speaking for some reason and it was taking a toll on her.

He and George had thought it would be funny to set off some Filibuster’s Fireworks in the hallway to startle some first years, but they hadn’t realized Hermione was walking by as well.

When he saw one blow up in her face, he knew they were in trouble. She immediately found their hiding place and began lecturing them on being reckless, wasting time, and inconveniencing others. She sounded so much like their mother, he and George had to bite back a grin when they glanced at each other.

He noticed something was off about halfway through her speech. It didn’t occur to him what it was until she started to walk away. But no, surely he was wrong. “Hey, wait! Hermione!” He chased after her and she turned around.

“What?”

“Smile.”

“What?” If her blush was any indication, he wasn’t wrong.

“Smile,” he repeated.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

She gave a hesitant smile and he saw it immediately. “What happened to your teeth?”

“Madame Pomphrey fixed them,” she said lightly. “I wasn’t going to keep them down past my chin like that.”

Fred crossed his arms. “No, fixing them would be putting them back to normal. They look different.”

She was blushing harder now and wouldn’t look at him. “So maybe I let her shrink them a little more than necessary. It’s really none of your business. Now I have to go to the library.” Fred stared after her. Why would she shrink her teeth?

Fred stopped Ron later when he passed him in the hall. “Do you know what happened with Hermione’s teeth?”

Ron looked surprised. “You haven’t heard? I thought everyone had. Harry and Malfoy got into a fight a couple days ago and Malfoy’s curse hit Hermione and made her teeth grow super long.” Fred started to say he had already heard that part when Ron scowled and said, “And Snape sent Goyle to the hospital wing but told Hermione he ‘saw no difference’. Then he took points from us! Can you believe him?”

Fred was glad Snape wasn’t around or he might say some things he’d regret.

On his way to meet Lee later that evening, he passed by the library and stopped. He had a few minutes, and she was probably still there. He ran inside and, sure enough, found Hermione sitting at a table by herself, surrounded by a large pile of books.

He leaned forward and slammed his hands on the table. “Snape is a git.”

Hermione jumped and looked up. “Wh-what?”

“Snape is a git. I just thought you should know.”

“Fred, he’s a professor!” she hissed.

“Doesn’t change the facts.” If he continued, he was going to regret it later. “I think you look pretty, and I thought you looked pretty before you changed your teeth. You shouldn’t worry about what Snape says. Anyway, I have to go meet Lee.” He rushed away before everything he said could catch up with him.

Before he got too far, he glanced back at her and thought he saw a hint of a smile on her face.

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