A Master Of Mischief ~ George Weasley Love Story ~ Book 1

Chapter 5

Dedicated to HeartbeatDream ~ http://www.wattpad.com/user/HeartbeatDream

**Maddie's POV**

"You'll be in Fred and George's room," Mrs Weasley says as we drive to the Burrow. I high five Fred and George in the limited space we have.
"Does your cat need anything special?" Mr Weasley asks.
"Oh, no, she pretty much takes care of herself," I tell him, "she likes hunting mice and rats."
I hear Ron whimper and hold scabbers closer.
"She won't hurt him," I say comfortingly, "she'll only hunt wild ones."
Ron shoots Snowy a distrusting look. Snowy purrs.
"Mum? Can Harry come and stay these holidays?" Ron asks.
"Of course dear!" Mrs Weasley says, "just write and ask and we'll arrange something."
I stare out at the countryside.
"It's so beautiful here," I sigh, "I can't wait to see your house."
We pull up outside the Burrow and I leap out.
"It's pretty old," George says apologetically, "and cramped."
"It's brilliant!" I exclaim, "I can't believe you've never invited me over before!"
"You've never invited us over either," Fred points out.
"That's different," I reply, picking up my trunk.
"Umm, our bedroom," George says, leading the way upstairs, "it's a bit... Messy."
He opens the door and gasps.
"It's... It's..."
"Clean," I observe, "don't worry, we'll fix that."
"Unpack, wash your hands and dinner will be ready!" Mrs Weasley says, bustling past.
"You can have these shelves," Fred says, motioning to the middle shelves. Fred and George's shelves are on either side of them, but when we're all unpacked, there's very little difference between the three of them. All the clothes are old, worn and faded.
"We'll give you a quick tour," Fred says, "Ron's room is at the top-"
"Well, the attic is at the top," George corrects, "but Ron's room is underneath."
"Then there's Percy's room opposite the bathroom, our room opposite mum and dad's room, Ginny's room and the kitchen and living room," Fred finishes.
"Now's the real test," George says, "you have to lead us to the bathroom."
"Wait, tell us where you think it is first," Fred says.
"The floor above our room, so the third floor, directly above our room," I say.
"Very impressive," Fred condones.
"Yes, very good, now go clean up," Mrs Weasley says, "dinner's almost ready!"
"So, Maddison," Percy says pompously, "how did you do in your exams."
I realise everyone is looking at me and blush.
"Umm, I suppose I did alright," I say modestly. Fred and George snort into their plates.
"She came top in everything," Fred explains.
"So you could be a candidate for prefect," Percy says, "once you reach the fifth year, of course."
"I doubt it," I smile.
"She causes too much trouble," George agrees.
"Yes, well, maybe you could influence these two to clean up their act," Percy says sternly.
"She usually comes up with the ide- Ouch!" Fred winces as my foot collides with his shin.
"What?" I say innocently as he glowers at me.
"That was amazing, Mrs Weasley," I say after we're finished, "thank you so much."
"Oh, it's nothing dear," she says, "off to bed! You must be tired. You can shower in the morning. I left a towel on your bed."
I follow Fred and George upstairs, yawning. I change into my pyjamas in the bathroom and brush my teeth. When I reach the room the boys have fallen asleepon top of their covers. There's lying in a mirror image of each other, mouths slightly open. I try not to laugh as I snuggle down into bed.
"Sleep well?" Mr Weasley asks as we join him at the breakfast table.
"As well as you can when there's two bears trying to outroar each other," I say, glaring at Fred and George who grin sheepishly, "honestly, those two are the worst snorers I've ever heard!"
"You've obviously never heard Ronald," Percy says, sitting down, already fully dressed, "I can hear him from my room."
Ginny walks into the room in her pink dressing gown.
"Ron! Is Harry coming?" she asks excitedly, "did you hear back from him yet?"
"I haven't written to him yet," Ron mumbles, scratching his head.
"Here," Mr Weasley hands him a quill and parchment, "we should get a reply by this evening at latest."
"What are your plans for today?" Mrs Weasley asks, handing around stacks of pancakes.
"Quidditch!" Ginny says, "oh, can we play?"
"Actually, Fred, George and I have some potions homework we want to get done," I lie, "so we don't have to worry about it."
"And some Charms," Fred adds.
"And Transfiguration."
"And Care of Magical Creatures."
"Turning over a new leaf, boys?" Percy says, "I'm impressed. Maddison, I'll be making a recomendation to Professor McGonagal if you keep this up."
I hide my smiles in my glass of orange juice. Fred chokes on a piece of pancake and George thumps his back until his eyes water.
"Thanks for breakfast, Mrs Weasley!" I call as we run upstairs. We close the door and I pull out my potions kit.
"We need a bar of-"
George silently holds up a new bar of soap.
"Food d-"
Fred holds up a bottle of red and a bottle of blue food dye.
"Brilliant," I grin, "let's get to work."
By the time Mrs Weasley calls us for lunch we're all sweaty and smell strongly of burnt soap.
"What've you been doing in there?" Ginny asks, holding her nose.
"Potions homework," I lie with slightly less conviction.
After lunch we jump straight back into it.
"Alright," I say, pacing, "so it hasn't worked yet. Let's try turning the heat off completely before we put the soap in, rather than simmering it."
"Fred! George! Maddie! Mum said dinner's ready!" Ginny calls through the locked door. I sigh and brush my burnt hair out of my face.
"I think we've got it," I sigh, looking up at Fred and George's tired, dirty faces, "who's going to try it?"
Fred and I both look at George.
"What?" he exclaims, "it was Maddie's idea!"
We silently push the soap into his hands.
"Fine," he huffs, "are you sure the colour will fade?"
"Positive," I say, then wink at Fred, "just, don't use it all over your body."
After dinner I have the first shower, followed by Fred. We wait, playing exploding snap, for George. He walks into theroom and we jump up.
"Well?" I demand. George silently lifts up his shirt to reveal a purple chest.
"YES!" I high-five Fred. George lowers his shirt down and glares at us.
"I have a purple chest!" he hisses.
"So?" I ask.
"So, if we go swimming, what'll I tell everyone?"
"Wear a shirt," I shrug, "this'll be a good test to see how long it lasts."

Turns out the colour lasted a week. By the time theweek had passed we hadn't heard from Harry and Ron was starting to worry.
"Hey, maybe we should go and get him," Fred suggests in a whisper. Mr and Mrs Weasley think we're all in bed, when we're actually hiding out in Ron's room, plotting and planning.
"Mum and Dad are going to write to the muggles using muggle post tomorrow," Ron points out.
"Yeah, but after what Harry's told us, fat lot of use that'll do," George argues.
"Well, your dad tweaked the car, didn't he?" I ask. Fred's eyes light up.
"Yes!" he hisses, "let's go get him tonight!"
"Okay, but quickly," Ron says, "we'll have to return the car before mum and dad wake up."
"Let's go," I whisper, opening the door slowly. We begin creeping downstairs, flinching every time the stairs creak.
"Have any of you driven a car before?" I ask, jumping in the back with Ron as Fred takes the wheel.
"Oh, yeah, plenty of times," Fred says casually.
"This is the first time," George says.
"You couldn't have told me that afterwards, could you?" I ask as he backs it out of the yard, almost hitting a stray chicken.
"Hold on tight," Fred says. I hurriedly tug on my seat belt and close my eyes. I hear George whoop as we lurch forward suddenly. I open my eyes and see the ground falling away from us.
"Some how, I feel safer on a broom," I comment, clutching the seat. Fred laughs.
"On to Little Whingeing!" he cries.
"That one!" Ron says, pointing, "blimey, there're bars on the windows!"
"Fly up close to the window," I tell Fred, "then hold the car steady."
Ron leans out and knocks on Harry's window. After a few seconds, Harry rips back the curtains, rubbing his eyes.
"We've come to rescue you," Ron says, grinning at Harry's shock.
"Tie this around the bars," I instruct Harry, thrwoing him a rope, "then stand back."
"Floor it, Fred," George says. Fred hits the accelerator and the car lurches forward, pulling the bars free with a horrible grinding noise.
"Get your stuff," We tell Harry.
"I can't, I'm locked in," he sighs.
"Move," George says, climbing out the car window and in Harry's, followed shortly by Fred. I climb into the drivers seat, just incase. A few minutes later Fred and George are passing Harry's things through the window and climbing back into the car.
"Come on Harry!" Ron calls. There's a loud squawk and Harry freezes.
"I've forgotten Hedwig!" he moans, turning back into his room. We hear a yell of "THAT BLOODY OWL!" and Harry's uncle begins trying to force his way into the room. Harry hurls Hedwig to Ron and is half out the window, when his uncle grabs his ankle.
"No!" I cry. George grabs Harry's hands.
"Step on it!" Fred yells. I hit the accelorator and Harry's ankle slides free of his uncle's grip.
"Hey Harry," I say shakily, "good holidays so far?"
He grins back.
"So, Harry, why haven't you been answering my letters?" Ron asks.
"Well," Harry sighs and explains about Dobby.
The sun is just peaking over the horizon as we land in the yard.
"Phew," Fred sighs, "alright, so we'll all creep up to bed and when mum get's up we'll just say Harry turned up in the night."
"Not an option," I whisper, ducking behind George.
"Wh- Oh," he turns pale. Mrs Weasley is stamping through the yard, scattering chickens.
"Where have you been!" she yells, "BEDS EMPTY! CAAR GONE! NO NOTE! YOU COULD'VE BEEN DEAD IN A DITCH!"
She turns to Harry.
"Of course, I don't blame you at all, Harry dear," she says.
"They were starving him, mum!" Ron protests, "there were bars on his windows!"
"You should be grateful if I don't put bars on your windows Ronald Weasley!" Mrs Weasley yells, "now you're all going to de-gnome the garden! Harry dear, you can go back to bed for a couple of hours..."
"Go," I mutter, shoving Fred and George in the back. We clamber upstairs and get in old - well, older - clothes.
"At least you're not purple anymore," I whisper as we duck out the back door, avoiding Mrs Weasley's glare.