All Bets Are Off

Chapter 18

August 2003

"I don't think it's going to matter how amazing your dinner is or how big a bouquet of flowers you get. The long and short of it is Hermione is going to kill you."

Fred shot an exasperated look at his twin.

"Give me all the death stares you want, you know it's true," George laughed. He turned to his wife for affirmation. "Back me up here, Ang."

"I'm staying out of this," Angelina answered, her eyes never leaving her copy of Witch Weekly.

"That means yes," George said, turning back to Fred. "I'm still shocked Minerva agreed to it."

"It took a lot of sweet talking. But Hagrid appears to be happy enough sharing his flock. I got two feet of parchment full of care instructions," Fred said, patting his trouser pocket. "Alright, if I'm going to beat her home I have to get going. Thanks for covering for me Ang!"

"Good luck," Angelina called back, giving Fred a wave as he hurried out the door.

Before apparating home, Fred stopped at the Diagon Alley florist and picked up the biggest bouquet of flowers he could carry. He hoped they would help him stay on his girlfriend's good side after telling her about what came along with the new product he was testing.

He apparated to the front door of the flat and his stomach did a flip-flop. Muffled sounds of chaos could already be heard, loudest among them was Hermione's cries of frustration.

"Bugger all," Fred groaned, smacking his head against the door.

Within ten seconds the door was whipped open and Fred was met by Hermione's manic face. Half her hair was still pulled back, but the other half was standing on end, framing her face almost like a lion's mane. He couldn't help but think the growl she let slip made her sound like a lion also. The Sorting Hat really is never wrong....

"Hello, darling," Hermione greeted through gritted teeth. "There wouldn't happen to be something you forgot to tell me, would there?"

"I'm sorry," Fred said meekly, holding out the flowers.

Hermione snatched the bouquet and moved aside so Fred could enter. He slipped his trainers off and Hermione swiftly scooped them up and placed them on the bookcase.

"If anything is left on the floor, the Crup will either chew it up or pee on it," she explained to Fred's bemused look.

"What's going on?" Fred asked, turning on the spot to survey the damage.

The sofa cushions were upended. Feathers were floating around, apparently ripped from a ravaged throw pillow. Towels were thrown over various puddles. As Fred knelt down to inspect teeth marks on the coffee table, something black swooped over his head. He looked up to see a raven perch on the back of the sofa. Immediately a rust-colored Crup bounded in and jumped onto the sofa. Feathers went flying once more and the raven screeched before taking flight towards the main bedroom.

"I was really hoping you'd be able to tell me that," Hermione said, nudging the Crup away with her leg. Her effort was futile though. The Crup weaved between her legs and took a bite out of one of the sunflowers in the bouquet. "No! No!" Hermione scolded, holding the flowers over her head. "Aside from this thing and the raven, there is a Demiguise hanging from the shower head. There's a Niffler tearing apart our bedroom. And somewhere amongst the ruin, there's the Bowtruckle that unlocked all their cages and set them free."

"There's also a snake climbing your leg," Fred pointed out, cringing slightly.

"And there's a snake on my leg." Hermione glanced down and screamed, sending the Crup running into the kitchen. "There's a snake on my leg! Get it off, get it off, get it off!"