Chapter Text
New beginnings were hard, and George knew that from personal experience. Sitting in his little office though he didn’t regret going for it though. Two years ago the world had been nothing but a foggy dark gray land of misery. Losing Fred had nearly broken him.
There was one important word in that though. Nearly. He had fought his way through everything, and now simply sitting in his office watching the portrait Luna had drawn of his brother playing on the wall like the funny prat he was? It was the most fun he’d felt in ages. All from a portrait.
Sure, there were episodes when George missed his twin so much it felt like he was missing a limb, but he had learned how to live without it for the most part. It didn’t make Fred any less important to him of course. He had just learned it didn’t have to mean his life meant less because of the loss.
With the help of Ron, who had shocked him with a surprising talent for business strategy and public relations, George had re-established Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes shortly after the war ended. Not only were they the main supplier of wizarding pranks in Great Britain, but they had even begun to start expanding further into Western Europe by broadening their market. It involved converting their Defense Against the Dark Arts line into a whole new brand itself called Weasley's Wizarding Security, or WWS for short. Personally he hated the name, but he had lost the bet against his younger brother to name it.
George had learned two more things during that game with Ron. First, and most importantly, was to never bet against Ron when the subject had anything to do with Harry Potter. Then secondly that Ron was the devil in disguise, because only he would choose such a dull name with the sole purpose seemed to be ‘annoy George’.
Still the lone twin had to admit WWS was their most successful branch now, despite the horrid name. That was why George was sitting over his paperwork at the moment working on ordering more supplies for their protection amulets. They were especially short on the love potion protection charms this month as well.
Thankfully for products like these he didn’t actually have to go far for the supplies. Actually all George had to do was walk across the street. After the war one of the new businesses that had popped up was a new apothecary right in front of them. They quickly became one of his main suppliers.
It was convenient no doubt, but now it seemed to be more of an annoyance. A few short months ago the apothecary had hired a new sales assistant, and frankly the bloke was driving him nuts. Every time the bloke deemed his handwriting not perfectly readable or when he happened to forget a form, Blaise Zabini messed up his orders. George actually believed he did it just because he could.
Sometimes the redhead would get ingredients he’d never ordered, and other times stuff he didn’t even know existed. Just last week the delivery witch had surprised him with a cage full of fire farting ferrets. Granted they were sold in a heartbeat, but still how was that even a thing?
Contemplating his last failed attempts to create a perfect order, George's eyes fell on Fred’s wall portrait. Luna had captured the mischievous glint in his eyes so perfectly. Even the mischief in his stance alone.
Grinning at the papers in front of him an idea came to mind, George started to plan the trick. His brother was always the inspiration whether in person or not. During the process he took the time to wonder if Blaise was only a pain in the arse to him. Maybe he messed up the orders specifically to drag him over to the apothecary. The question was why though? Today he was going to really find out what the little Slytherin shit had to say in his absence.
“Sally-Anne!” George called, flicking his wand to open his office door.
“Yes, boss?” the raven-haired young woman answered, appearing quickly wearing her magenta employee robes.
“Do you mind giving me something, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly, although he could feel the trouble making smirk on his face.
“Only if you stop calling me that,” Sally said firmly, giving him a look that was so little Hufflepuff from her that he was not sure how she was one.
“Deal!” the redhead winked, jumping at the opportunity and already running through alternative nicknames.
“What do you need, boss?” the witch asked with a small amused smile.
“Just one little bitty teeny tiny black hair from your swee...cute little head,” George said, making sure to wear his best puppy eyes.
“Pray tell what would you be doing for the hour that you were me?” she asked, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms unimpressed by the request.
“Oi! I said nothing about polyjuice potion…” George said, raising his hands innocently in the air, but his smirk turned into a full blown smile despite himself.
“What other reason could you have to ask for a hair?” Sally asked, with an equally playful smirk to match him.
“I can’t tell you beforehand, but I promise I won’t use it for coarse or obscene reasons,” he assured her. “I will even wear store robes so I don’t have to undress after taking the potion. I just need to mislead someone for a wee bit.”
Sally-Anne narrowed her blue eyes and watched him attentively. There was a reason he had chosen her after all. Then after a minute of silence, the girl plucked one long black hair from her head and walked to his desk holding it out to him. When he went to take it though she pulled it back.
“I might be a Hufflepuff, but if I find something less than respectful on my body, I will take you to the Ministry,” she threatened, slowly holding the hair back out to him once she finished her threat.
George rolled his eyes fondly. Not because he thought it was an empty threat, but because he knew it wasn’t. Something he’d learned was never cross a Hufflepuff’s boundaries, and even more importantly never cross a Hufflepuffs friend. Especially if you like your extremities and genitals attached to your body. It was something people seem to forget way too often for some reason. Hufflepuffs were never treated as seriously as they should.
After graciously taking the witch’s hair George stood and bowed dramatically as a thank you. Then he grabbed his newly written order list and transfigured his robes into the standard shop ones. Why hadn’t he thought about this before he thought as excitement and anticipation began coursing through him. Reaching into the secret drawer underneath the top of his desk he quickly searched the contents for the right vial he knew was hidden within it.
“Ah ha!” the redhead said triumphantly, finally finding the murky brown vial towards the back.
Flipping the lid George added the hair, then grimaced at the smell and sound of it bubbling. Polyjuice truly was vile, and it never got any better, no matter how often one used it. Still he chucked it down in one go smacking his lips in disgust until the flavor managed to mute itself somewhat.
It only took a few minutes for the uncomfortable adjustments to be made as his body morphed into Sally. Turning into a woman was always odd, not that he had done it often, but he was reminded of it when his new chest bounced as he practically ran down the stairs. Considering how excited the redhead was to be putting his plan into motion he hardly cared though.
There was always a rush he got when he was up to no good. Although in his mind George counted this one as actually being up to good because he was going to be figuring out the problem without doing anything well…naughty.
In the rush George nearly forgot to tighten his new robes, and only managed to remember when Sally-Anne raised her eyebrows at him while giving him a once over. It slowed him to a halt to check if anything was wrong. Noticing the bagginess, he waved his wand over himself to fix it. After the fabric shrunk into place the redhead shot a wink at his worker.
The witch merely rolled her eyes at his antics before turning to address a customer. George took it as approval and shrugged as he began weaving through customers towards the doors.
Once he stepped onto the street George took a deep breath, getting into the headspace to pull one over on the annoyingly intriguing bloke in the apothecary. This was a low key mission in the grand scheme of things, which consisted of an entire lifetime of pranking, but it was the first in a long time. He needed to make sure his head was in the game, especially considering it was hardly seconds that he was walking through the door ready to place his order.
“Hello there,” Zabini greeted nicely as the bell chimed above him, although it was accompanied with a frown. “How can I help you?”
“Hi,” George said innocently, plastering on his nicest smile, ignoring his curiosity to scan the chest high rows and rows of ingredients in the dimly lit store. “My boss gave me a list, and sent me over to order a few things.”
“Very well,” Zabini said, tone undetectable. “...hand it over. I’ll see what we have and what we need you to place an order for.”
The bloke took it when he held it out for him, without so much as a comment on it despite the length. That had never once happened before, and George had to admit he was surprisingly annoyed by the fact even though he had thought this outcome was a possibility. Why didn’t he have something snarky to say about it now? He just knew the goal was to piss him off.
“Since when did your boss decide to send you?” the younger man’s voice echoed, dragging George out of his contemplations as he rummaged around the store. “I thought he usually handled the orders himself.”
“I don’t know. He was murmuring about not wanting to deal with something. Quite a mood,” George said simply shrugging, which was an incredibly strange feeling with Sally-Anne’s petite body.
“Too bad,” Zabini said, beginning to put things down inside his bag, “...his hair would have brightened this shop significantly today.”
George fought to keep his face neutral. A difficult task considering his brows wan’t to furrow in confusion. That was quite the odd thing to say.
“I packed you what we had in storage,” Zabini told him with a smile once he had finished, tightening the bag strings and handing over what had to be the easiest purchase he had ever received. “You will need to wait for the shrivel figs though, but they should be here by tomorrow. Oh and I packed a little something for your boss as well. To brighten him up a bit since you said he is in such a mood.”
“Thanks?” George offered slowly taking the bag from the bloke, and raising an eyebrow in reflex at the mysterious remark.
As the dark skinned Slytherin turned his back to him, George also turned to leave. Although he left feeling odd. What in the bloody hell was that about? It was strange, and not as predictable as he’d expected.
Sure, the redhead had contemplated Zabini held a personal grudge against him, but to his own surprise he had to admit he hated his suspicion being confirmed. Why did the bloke have a grudge in the first place? They had never even interacted back in Hogwarts, and definitely not before he was hired in the apothecary.
“What did I ever do to him?” George huffed, reaching his office again before he’d even realized it.
It was obviously a rhetorical question since he was asking Fred’s portrait. Luna was magnificent, but sadly even she couldn’t draw a talking portrait with the subject of the picture already being dead. Shaking his head, to not go down that dark alley again he refocused on the bag Zabini had packed him. What had the man packed to so call ‘ brighten’ his day, and better yet why? There were so many questions swarming around in his head.
This bag was a new one George observed lifting it up to look at it suspiciously. It was a little different from the regular one he usually received, which was weird. There seemed to be an extension charm attached instead of a standard boxed charm. The thing reminded him of Hermione's endless bags, except this one didn’t seem to be endless. Just bigger and lighter.
Untying it and looking inside the redhead noted how the items he had purchased were packed in neat little rows still. George was sure he had shaken it quite a bit in his journey back to his office. Yet somehow nothing had tumbled over. Even Hermione’s bag, things tended to spill when jostled a great deal.
Testing his hypothesis George shook the bag, watching the contents as he did so. Still, everything stayed exactly where it was making him narrow his eyes in interest. That was an intriguing bit of magic right there that he had never seen anywhere else. He thought perhaps he should have a word with Master Gaillard, the apothecary owner. This bit of magic had serious potential, and he wondered why he was just now sharing it with others. With his own mind, and the Master’s magic, together they could make a great profit on such an item instead of it generously being handed out like a standard run of the mill shopping bag.
Writing down a note to himself to ask for a meeting with Master Gaillard, George turned his attention back to the bag sitting on his desk. Right in front of the neat little rows of everything else was a little parcel he hadn’t noticed due to the size and color. It was wrapped in dark burgundy velvet that blended into the shadows and adorned with a black bow.
George debated with himself for all of half a second before reaching in and taking it out. He had never been able to withstand curiosity. However, as he untied the bow, he greatly regretted that little fact. Booming music filled the room, and a colorful cloud of mist spilled out surrounding him reminding him he knew better.
I’m still standing, better than I ever did
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid
The mist swirled around him, and George tried to follow all the movement looking for anything dangerous. It smelt surprisingly pleasant though. Something like strawberries mixed with sunshine. Even the music itself wasn’t half bad, and before he realized it he was bobbing to the beat. Maybe he was too much of a businessman now because he was already getting ideas as he got lost in the sound. Who cared what it was about as he saw dollar signs going off in his head?
I’m still standing after all this time
Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind
Suddenly the music stopped, and before his body even quit moving to it the mist exploded in a form of glittery rain. George’s jaw dropped watching the mix of color continue to rain down on him until it all was finally out of the air, clinging to his body. Thankfully whatever this magic was, was meant to act to the wizard because it surprisingly hadn’t coated his desk or floor minus a few flecks.
Moving slowly, George made his way to the large mirror at the far wall, which had proved to be a vital tool in all their experiments over the years. His eyes bugged out and he gasped in surprise at the sight of himself. From the top of his head to his shoes he was absolutely coated in the sparkling glitter that had been swirling around him.He couldn’t even see the red of his hair or the black of his eyelashes. Every millimeter of his body was covered, turning him into a walking rainbow.
“Boss are you…” Sally said as she threw the door open, but her look of concern quickly morphed into a repressed laugh causing her to snort.
“Not a word, employee , not a word!” George said firmly, raising one finger.
More colourful glitter spread into the air around him as he did so. He realized it wasn’t wise to reach for his wand like this. It would get covered in whatever this was, and it would be terrible to clean. It had happened before, glitter was hard enough to get rid of on it’s on. Godric help him should it be anything worse.
“Yes…yes sir,” Sally-Anne tried, and failed, not to laugh. “...but please tell me we’re not selling this in the store! Someone will open one inside and it will just be a mess.”
“No! This is not one of our bloody products! Fucking Zabini gave me this! Or better saying, he gave it to you, to give to me, to ‘brighten my day’!” George snapped, emphasizing the point with air quotes, and if it was even possible the Hufflepuff laughed harder.
“Well, it certainly brightened my day boss. Maybe I should buy him a piece of treacle tart to thank him,” the witch managed through her continued giggling, unbothered by his irritation knowing it wasn’t directed at her.
“Ha bloody ha. Please...just can you try to vanish this or see if you can break the spell?” George asked defeatedly. “I’m afraid if I move, I will fill the store with this rubbish. Otherwise I’d have already run back over there as fast as I could and jump on his perfectly clean and organized counter. See what he’d think about that.”
“Maybe you need to just go and ask him for help?” Sally-Anne suggested raising her wand and beginning to cast spells, only for nothing to happen. “I can cast a bubble charm around you so you don’t ruin our shop? Then you can just ask him why he did it?”
“Oh I most definitely will not!” he told her enthusiastically, bits of glitter puffing off him as he shook his head, because he was not going to reward the git by showing up like this begging for help. “I’ll just wait it out. We know best that most spells dispel themselves after a while.”
Sally-Anne just sighed at him, and left, probably knowing that arguing with him wouldn’t do any good right now. Sighing deeply himself George fell into his desk chair, ignoring the giant cloud of sparkles that rose as he did so. It looked like he would have to do the paperwork he was pushing off for weeks now after all instead of his latest project. With a foreign spell influencing him though, there was no way to predict how it could affect his new creation.
George grumbled as he pulled forward his parchment. He had to admit, if only to himself, that dancing glitter that swirled around his hand as it moved, had him smiling way more than he usually did while doing the paperwork. Still, it was annoying. Especially when he had to keep swiping some out of the way to read what he had written. At least it didn’t stick to any other surface than him.
“Looks like it hasn’t dispelled yet, boss,” Sally-Anne said bluntly when she came back hours later.
“I am aware, thank you very much,” George muttered, glowering at her and checking his watch, surprised to see it was already past six pm.
“I’m closing up shop now boss,” the witch said cheerfully, ignoring his foul mood. “See you tomorrow! Hopefully without the glitter that is of course. I won’t complain if it hasn’t though. Just avoid the main floor.”
George growled playfully at her as she shut the door. Merlin he had no idea if he was going to be getting this stuff off him by tomorrow at this rate. Five hours was more than enough time for it to dispel. Running a hand down his face, scrubbing hopefully but pointlessly, the redhead cursed. He was expected at the Burrow for dinner also, and his mum would have his bollocks if he skipped out on the last minute again. Then again what would she do if he covered the burrow in glitter?
Contemplating the pros and cons of begging Zabini for help versus turning up looking like a glittery rainbow flag at a family dinner, George took all of half a second to decide. Between the whole lot of them someone should be able to come up with a solution. Especially if Hermione showed up. Bloody witch knew almost everything.
“The Burrow,” he called out, accepting his fate as stepped into the fireplace.