dudley's ton tongue
August 24th, 1994
THEY WOULDN'T BE the Weasleys if they were on time.
Daisy had the biggest urge to roll her eyes as she waited patiently by the fireplace for... Well, she didn't know what for. Mr. Weasley had to make some urgent phone calls about connecting fireplaces and what not. Ron changed three times before finally decided to wear the clothes he wore initially. The twins came out of their room wearing fanny packs, and Daisy could guess what's hidden inside already.
By the time the party of five were ready, at last, they were already running half an hour late.
Mr. Weasley casted Incendio onto the fireplace, threw in a pinch of Floo dust, and stepped in first. Fred immediately followed. Then Daisy.
Her feet never stepped into the Weasleys' fireplace, because she was spinning through the magical channel the moment her sole touched the green flame. She basked in the exhilarating feeling that she had come to miss, smiling all the while, until her forehead knocked into something really hard.
"Ouch!"
Contrary to their expectation, they arrived to a dark, narrow, musty, unknown space.
"Oh my—" Daisy coughed, "Fred?"
"Here!"
Daisy felt warmth behind her, and she knew that Fred had moved to stand behind her back. She guessed that the loud banging and scrapings were made by Mr. Weasley.
"Ouch! Fred, Daisy, no— go back, go back, there's been some kind of mistake. Tell George to— OUCH!"
Too late. George came barreling in, right onto Fred and Daisy.
"What's going on?"
"George! No, there's no room, go back quickly and tell Ron—"
"Maybe Harry can hear us, Mr. Weasley," Daisy proposed, feeling more and more suffocated by the seconds, "Maybe he'll be able to let us out."
Mr. Weasley turned quiet for a second before he banged louder onto the board surrounding them. "Harry?! Harry, can you hear us?"
"Freddie, move over a bit—"
"Daisy's in front of me, George, we're sandwiched—"
"Hush!"
"Harry! Are you there?"
Then, a series of knock was heard, and Daisy breathed out in huge relief. "Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"It's Harry... The fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there."
"Damn!" Mr. Weasley said. "What on Earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"
"They've got an electric fire."
"Really?" The older man's voice turned excited, "Eclectic you say? With a plug? Gracious I must see that..."
"Electric," Daisy quickly corrected, "Can we get out of here first, please?"
"Ouch, Ron!"
Daisy closed her eyes as Fred pressed further forward. Ron had now joined the club.
"What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"
"Oh no, Ron," Fred said very sarcastically, "No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."
"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," said George.
Daisy tried breathing in through her nose and mouth, unable to say a word more. She was not a fan of tight spaces, really.
"Hang on, Dee. Dad!"
"I'm trying to think of what to do..." Mr. Weasley said vaguely. "Yes... The only way... Stand back, Harry."
BANG!
Daisy felt like a cork was pulled out of her throat as light flooded into her vision, and she stumbled forward. She would've fallen to the ground if the twins didn't catch her on time.
When she returned to her senses, Mr. Weasley had his hand outstretched to a huge, mustached man wearing suit covered in white dust. The man only backed away several paces instead of answering the handshake, though. Harry's uncle, she thought, and that must be his aunt.
Harry looked like he was biting back a laugh, standing by the sofa with a hand covering his mouth.
"Er— yes— sorry about that," said Mr. Weasley, lowering his hand and looking over his shoulder at the blasted fireplace, "It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see —just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking —but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don't worry. I'll light a fire to send the boys back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate."
"I'm very sorry," Daisy interjected through Mr. Weasley's ramble. She straightened up, assuring the twins that she was okay, then approached the flabbergasted foster parents. "For the fireplace and the whirlwind of information. He was just saying that you shouldn't worry about this mess. We will clean this up and turn everything back to its original position before we leave."
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia Dursley couldn't even squeak. They just cowered beside each other, staring at the intruders.
Daisy smiled politely, "Harry, is your trunk ready?"
"It's upstairs," said Harry, grinning back.
"We'll get it," said Fred. He, George, and Ron then proceeded to leave the living room. Of course, they knew where Harry's bedroom was. They once rescued him from it in the dead of night, just last year.
"Well," said Mr. Weasley, swinging his arms slightly, while he tried to find words to break the very nasty silence. "Very— erm— very nice place you've got here."
Daisy's eyes scanned the thick dust and bits of brick scattered all over the place. Oops.
"The run off eckeltricity, do they?" Mr. Weasley added again, acting knowledgeably, "Ah, yes, I can see the plugs."
"Mr. Weasley—"
"I collect plugs. And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries."
Daisy cleared her throat again, to no avail.
"My wife thinks I'm mad, but there you are."
"Well, Harry, I didn't think that your family is this affluent and modern," Daisy jumped in, pointing to the television and video recorder, "These are the latest models, I presume? I only know a handful of people whose house is marvelously decorated, but this one is the best I've ever seen."
(Harry was told later by Ron that she was performing fake modesty —the Allen Residence along with their other three neighbors' were so enormous, the Dursleys' entire house could fit into Mr. Allen's bedroom. Daisy just liked complimenting people in general)
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley began to shift in their position, quite enjoying the flattering remarks.
"You have a lovely home, sir. Ma'am."
"Who—" Mr. Dursley finally speak, "Who are you? You're not one of them, are you?"
"If by one of them you mean a witch, then no, I am not," Daisy eyed Mr. Weasley, who seemed itching to go and examine the electronics. She made a mental note to bring some from her house next time.
"Yes, yes... My house is pretty sublime, isn't it? Got all the latest technology here. We don't want to be any step behind, you know."
A huge boy resembling Mr. Dursley suddenly ran into the room, edging along the wall in fear.
"Ah, this is your cousin, is it, Harry?" Mr. Weasley said, taking another brave stab at making conversation.
"Yep," said Harry, still on the verge of laughing, "That's Dudley."
"Hello, Dudley," Daisy greeted politely.
"Having a good holiday, Dudley?"
Daisy and Mr. Weasley's kind and genuine greeting was replied with whimpers on the boy's end.
Fred and George came back into the room carrying Harry's school trunk, while Ron had Hedwig the owl's cage. The twins glanced around as they entered and when they spotted Dudley, their faces cracked into identical evil grins.
"Ah, right," said Mr. Weasley, "Better get cracking then."
With a flick of his wand, flames rose at once in the dead fireplace. Mr. Weasley took a small drawstring bag from his pocket, untied it, took a pinch of the powder inside, and threw it onto the flames, which turned emerald green and roared higher than ever.
"Off you go, then, Fred."
"Coming," said Fred, "Oh no— hang on—"
A bag of sweets had spilled out of Fred's fanny pack. Daisy's eyes widened as big, familiar, fat toffees in brightly colored wrappers rolled in every direction.
Fred scrambled around, cramming them back into his bag and George's, then gave the Dursleys a cheery wave.
"Wait—" Daisy pointed to one, final toffee left near Dudley's feet, "Fred, there's one m—"
Fred hurriedly circled his arms around her and pushed her into the fireplace along with him.
"You left one—"
"No, I didn't. I'll be going first, then. The Burrow!"
There was a whooshing sound, and Fred vanished.
George came filing in with Harry's trunk in tow and urged Daisy to go. When she spared the floor another look, the toffee was already gone. So she bid the three fellow Muggles goodbye and returned back home.
✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿
August 24th, 1994
WHEN HARRY APPEARED in the Burrow's fireplace, Fred immediately leapt in front of him and said excitedly, "Did he eat it? Did he eat it?"
Daisy gasped, "I knew it! Gosh, Fred, you left it on purpose?"
"Yeah," said Harry, straightening up, "What was it?"
"Ton-Tongue Toffee," said Fred brightly, "George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all Summer..."
"Mum saved them every time," George added from the dining table.
Bill, Charlie, and Ron exploded into laughter. The former two then stood up to greet Harry —it was the first time they meet each other.
"Was he alright, though?" Daisy asked him, "He is alright, isn't he?"
She remembered walking into the twins' room when they were testing the toffee on themselves. Their tongue was lolling down, nearly as tall as their hunched figures. She screamed so loud, horrified and surprised, that the entire house came thundering in.
What came after that was much, much worse (read: Mrs. Weasley's wrath).
"I dunno," Harry shrugged, "Mr. Weasley was still persuading my Aunt to let him fix it when I left."
"That poor boy..." Daisy said, feeling bad for Dudley. "By the way, I was too much, wasn't I? Back in your house. I was supposed to ease the tension and awkwardness."
"No, you were good. How do you know my uncle loves compliments?"
She shrugged, "Everyone does. It's human nature."
Before any of them could say anything else, the cracking sound of Apparition was heard, and Mr. Weasley appeared out of thin air at George's shoulder. He was looking angrier than Harry and Daisy had ever seen him.
"That wasn't funny, Fred!" he shouted, "What on Earth did you give that Muggle boy?"
"I didn't give him anything. I just dropped it... It was his fault that he went and ate it, I never told him to," Fred said defensively.
"You dropped it on purpose! You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet—"
"How big did his tongue get?" George asked, not even bothering to mask his eagerness.
"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!"
Harry and the Weasley boys roared with laughter again, imagining the whole ordeal. Daisy tried so hard to suppress her smile, but failed to.
"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted, "That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons—"
"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" said Fred indignantly, "Daisy's a Muggle, and we love her!"
"Yeah, we wouldn't give Daisy anything of that sorts."
Daisy pursed her lips. Liar, they tried to test their sweets on me, too.
"We gave it to him because he's a great bullying git. Isn't he, Harry?"
"That's not the point!" raged Mr. Weasley, "You wait until I tell your mother—"
"Tell me what?" said a voice behind them, and everyone turned radio silent. "Oh, hello, Harry, dear. Tell me what, Arthur?"
Mr. Weasley hesitated. Daisy could tell that, however angry he was with the twins, he hadn't really intended to tell Mrs. Weasley what had happened. They could die in her arms.
"It's nothing, Molly," Mr. Weasley mumbled, "Fred and George just— but I've had words with them—"
"What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley, "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes—"
"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" Daisy quickly cut in, hoping to dissolve the tension a bit.
"He knows where he's sleeping." That dense kid, honestly. "In my room, he slept there last time—"
"We can all go," Daisy added pointedly.
"Oh," Ron faltered, catching up. "Right."
"Yeah, we'll come, too," said George.
"You stay where you are," snarled Mrs. Weasley.
Fred and George looked at Daisy with eyes that screamed HELP, but she could only grimace and mouthed back, "Sorry."