To say that Fred and George drove Aunt Muriel crazy throughout the first month that we were there was just an underestimation.
They left Dungbombs in the living room and tried out their new products on her garden gnomes. But what pissed her off the most was the passing owls that swooped in and out of the house at least five times a day, to deliver Fred and George's products which they made in the backroom to customers.
Tolerating her had become almost impossible. There wasn't a single day that passed by where she wouldn't scold me about sleeping till noon, saying,
"Back in my days young girls actually valued time. It's like all your generation is doing is to eat, sleep, eat, sleep, and repeat. It's absolutely disgraceful!"
And to the answer, I would always give her the finger the moment she turned her back on me, making Fred and George snigger.
Although even though the twins always managed to keep the house bright and happy — despite Muriel's foul mood — the news we read in the Daily Prophet or what we heard on the radio only brought us fear, and nothing more.
Although after a month, we could no longer trust what we heard there, seeing as all channels on the radio were now manipulated by Voldemort and his followers as well.
"Lee sent us a letter this morning, by the way," said Fred as I joined him and George in the backroom while they were busy with testing new products.
"What did he say?" I mused, leaning against a wall nearby.
"He's planning on creating a radio podcast," said George in a hushed tone, even though there was no way anyone could overhear us with all the protective enchantments around the house.
"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot you were gonna do that," I said, mostly to myself. "But — how did he manage to send the letter to you? I thought the Ministry was checking all the owls."
"They do," George nodded, "but the three of us had come up with a coding language back at school."
"Yeah, we were only thirteen," said Fred, and then he sighed, "Ah, the good old days... making up secret languages and exploding the Slytherin common room... those were the days."
I giggled at that. "So where is the first meeting going to be?"
"Dunno." George shrugged. "We're supposed to change the location and password to the channel each time, so it's not decided yet."
"Lupin and Kingsley said they wanted to participate as well," said Fred. "We'll all have code names too."
"We haven't decided on a name for the radio channel yet, though," said George. "Lee suggested Pottermore, but we're trying to think of something else. Do you have any suggestions, Snappy?"
"Hmm..." I started thoughtfully, trying to suppress a grin. "How about Potterwatch?"
I knew they were going to come up with that same name eventually, so I thought I would just help them get there faster.
"Ooh, classy and sassy. I like it," Fred nodded in approval.
"Nice one, Snappy." George grinned. "I'll let Lee know. See what he thinks about it."
Just then, the door to the backroom opened without a knock and when we turned on the spot, we saw Aunt Muriel there, looking as bitter as ever.
"Boys, your father is here to see you," she said before leaving the room again without any other word.
Fred and George shared a horrified look and went pale before running out of the room briskly to see their father, scared that he had come with bad news.
I didn't blame them. I was afraid to that I would hear a death news of the people that weren't supposed to be here right now, such as Moody, Sirius, and Jenna.
So with that thought, I followed them out and went into the living room, where Mr. Weasley was pacing around, deep in thoughts.
"What is it, Dad?" George asked urgently.
"Is it Mum?" Fred asked abruptly. "Is it Ginny? How about R —"
"Everyone's fine. Don't worry," said Mr. Weasley reassuringly, cutting them off. "I just came here to check up on you."
But he then turned to face Aunt Muriel, who was in the kitchen nearby, obviously trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.
"Muriel, would you please give us a moment?" said Mr. Weasley, smiling at the old woman. "I'd like to speak to the kids in private."
Aunt Muriel glared at him before rolling her eyes and walking upstairs, mumbling grumpily under her breath, "Absolutely disgraceful... no respect for the elderly... I'm hundred-and-seven years old, for crying out loud..."
Mr. Weasley sighed, sitting on the couch and so we followed, taking our seats on different armchairs around the living room and before the small fireplace.
"How come it took you so long to come visit?" asked George, slightly frowning. "It's been a month since we've even heard from any of you, after we had moved in here."
"They're having a close watch on every one of us. They'd get suspicious if we came here too often," Mr. Weasley explained.
"So... any news?" Fred questioned.
"A lot, actually," said Mr. Weasley. "Well... Tonks is pregnant." Fred and George's eyes widened in excitement and I smiled. "But the bad news is... her father had to go on the run, being a Muggle-born. None of us know his whereabouts."
"How about Ron?" George mused. "Any news of him and Harry and Hermione?"
"Yes." Mr. Weasley sighed, grimacing. "It goes back to last week. Throughout the last month, Sirius said that they were at Grimmauld Place. He tried to visit them once a week or so, but the last time he went there, he saw that they were missing. And the next day, we heard that Harry was sighted at the Ministry."
"He what!?" Fred and George exclaimed in sync.
"Is he mental?" said George. "What is he going to Ministry for?"
"Doesn't he know he's the most wanted wizard there?" said Fred. "With the money they've put as price for his capture, even I would be tempted to turn him in," he joked, making George and I snigger.
"He was under the Polyjuice Potion at the time. But they didn't catch them. They Dissaparated, although one of them might've splinched. I don't know who," Mr. Weasley went on.
At least now I knew what was happening; they had now got the locket from Umbridge and had ran off to a forest. I knew it was Ron who had been injured.
"I don't think they had recognized Ron, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here to tell the tale. The Ministry would've captured us right away," said Mr. Weasley. "But Molly and I might eventually have to move in here as planned, if they try to give us trouble."
"Well, thank God you're all okay," I said earnestly, feeling revealed that nothing horrible had happened.
"I must say, it was a good decision that all of you moved in here," said Mr. Weasley after a short pause.
"How come?" I asked.
"Two days after you moved in here, the Snatchers raided the Joke Shop," said Mr. Weasley. Fred and George shared a look of horror. "Let's just thank Merlin that you lot weren't there."
"Is Sirius okay?" I asked worriedly, and Mr. Weasley nodded reassuringly.
"Yes, but there's been a problem. Which reminds me; You-Know-Who's name has become taboo."
"What do you mean?" Fred asked.
"It means that the moment you say his name, all protective enchantments around you will break and they will track you down the exact moment," said Mr. Weasley. "It makes sense, because the only people who use his name are most likely in the Order."
"Then what happened to Sirius?" I asked urgently.
"He said the name," Mr. Weasley explained. "They found him and tried to attack and take him in. But Sirius might've killed one of the Death Eaters before escaping."
"What?" I said in disbelief. "But... who?"
"No idea. The Death Eater was wearing a mask." Mr. Weasley then sighed. "They're really pissed. They're after Sirius and so he was forced to go into hiding. They want him bad. Specially that Bellatrix Lestrange. She won't rest until he's dead."