Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 1:3

In the early afternoon, while Molly was resting and Ruth was finally able to watch a game show on the telly, Mary, the young nurse, inched into the front room and interrupted Ruth's much needed escape from the madness.

"Miss Huckle?  I'm helping Mister Weasley fill out the birth registration and I have a few questions."

"What now?" Ruth responded exhaustedly, muting the television with a scowl before dragging her aching fingers through her white fringe.

"Well, I...I feel like...well — it's as if you're having a laugh."

"Out with it, Mary.  What is the problem?"

"You never gave a name for the second child."

"Don't be foolish!  There is no second child."

Mary was smiling awkwardly as Ruth unmuted the game show, expecting the punch line to come.

But it did not. 

Ruth scrambled from the chair and pushed past her.  She stormed into the bedroom, waking Molly accidentally as she stumbled over the hearth rug on her way to the laundry basket that was being used as a cradle.  Inside the basket were two identical newborn boys, facing one another and sleeping under the same scarlet and gold towel. 

"Is everything all right?" asked Molly, rubbing her eyes.

Ruth's head was shaking uncontrollably, her hands trembling more than usual. "What happened while I was gone from the room?" she muttered, looking suspicious. "You had another baby?  You couldn't have had another baby."

At that moment, Arthur sauntered in with a crooked grin, scratching his mop of red hair before replacing his cap. "You should see the boys outside, Molly.  They've discovered a friend," he said with an added wink, before mouthing the word Muggle.  He noticed her expression. "What is it?"

Molly Weasley sat up in bed, her back rigid. "That was my fourth pregnancy.  And I know I only carried one child."

"This is not right!" blurted Ruth dementedly. "This does not make sense.  One child cannot become two!  One boy cannot just be a twin — all of a sudden!"

Heatedly, Molly flopped her arms down onto the quilt that covered her legs. "There is some magic going on here, Arthur.  There are two of them now."

Mr. Weasley eyed the slumbering newborns with warm delight. "Would you look at that?!" he marveled. "Good on you, lad.  He...well, I suppose I should say they...went and divided themselves.  Little sorcerers, already at work."

"Little tricksters, more like it," mumbled Molly, as she eyed the makeshift cradle with uncertain fondness. "Well, they'd best keep it to two if they know what's good for them.  I can't handle more than that."

As parents of a new miracle, they shared a hearty, but hushed laugh.  With all the evil that had been running amok in the wizarding world, it felt stupendous to be distracted by something so innocent and remarkable.  Two wars had plagued Europe for decades.  The first was a rebellion started by the deranged, power-hungry dictator, Gellert Grindelwald, and his band of followers, the Fondatori.  The second war crept in during the night, and was still happening all around them, led by an altogether different evil, the dark Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.  But now, amidst all the horrors, the new parents were laughing.  Such a thing seemed impossible only days prior.  Their joy broke when the elderly midwife fainted, tumbling to the ground in utter disbelief.