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“‘tis a nice day for an ol’ Weasley brood outing, innit?”
It was Fred who had spoken these words that would later be the start of the story told for generations. A Magic Fish it would be titled with great Weasley flair paired with wiggling fingers, wide glimmering eyes, and knowing smiles from those who had been there. It would eventually gain different names, of course, amongst them being The Day That Uncle Percy Almost Got Eaten by a Magic Fish, That Moment When Mum Almost Killed All of Her Brothers Because She Angered a Magic Pond Fish, and—what George would greatly prefer—When Fred Was Wrong and the Day Was Not Indeed Good Because There was a Magic Fish Lurking and Desiring Violence. Either way and whichever chosen title it gained, it would always contain a magic fish who was, indeed, seeking violence on that day and only needed a small push.
Ginny, unknowingly as of now, was that small push. She was hitting the ground with a large stick she had found—promptly claiming it as her own with the jealousy only a child could have over a stick—sending up clouds of dust, and impatiently waiting for her slow brothers to catch up. They had disappeared into the Burrow to convince Percy to join them and that was…well, Ginny wasn’t entirely sure but it felt like it was taking forever! She groaned, kicking a booted shoe with a rapidly growing energy.
She wanted to go. She wanted to go now.
The door to the Burrow finally burst open. A pair of redheads exited with a loud cheer. The stocker twins were dragging the lankier form of their older brother whose scowl could surely curdle milk and make infants cry. His horn-rimmed glasses were skewed, his hair a mess. Ron followed and then quickly overcame the group with a cheerful skip to his step. He stopped by a mildly amused Ginny. “We had to improvise,” he gave as an answer with a shrug and wide boyish grin.
“I did not agree to this!” Percy loudly complained, attempting to wiggle free. His arms were glued to his sides with what Ginny thought must have been a twins' branded invention. There was no visual indication of what was tying Percy down. Since their older brother wasn’t scolding them on underage magic, it must have been an invention. “This is kidnapping!” their brother tried again to appeal to them.
“Are you a kid?” George asked.
“Or are we Percynapping?” Fred concluded with a snicker.
Percy merely twitched in response and the twins carried him off down the path to the pond they discovered earlier in the summer.
“Of course you didn’t,” Ron called after them. “You’re allergic to fun and sun! We have to get you out because I’m pretty sure you’re going to die without them. Get all shriveled and—and turn into dust,” he finished with a falsely wise nod only to squawk when Ginny shoved him. He tried to retaliate by taking her stick and she struck him with it across his arse before running ahead with a mad cackle. Ron dashed after her, yelling of assault and righteous retribution.
Ginny held onto her stick tightly. No one was going to take her stick. She found it so it was now hers.
The pond was in sight now and she bobbed and weaved between the twins and a captured Percy who had been sat on a tree stump. Ron followed until he—out of breath—fell victim to a twin's outstretched foot. He landed with a weird squeak reminiscent of Scabbers when he was alarmed. He whipped up to his knees and glared, face red and cheeks puffed. “That wasn’t fair!” He pointed at where Ginny was hiding behind Percy. “She started it! She hit me with a stick and I’m telling mum and she’ll take it away.” Ginny peeked around their older brother and stuck out her tongue at Ron, silently daring him to do it. “Perce,” Ron said, standing and dusting off his knees, “You agree with me, yeah?”
Percy looked away with a huff and Ginny grinned victoriously. Bad play, she thought. Percy wouldn’t help anyone so long as his arms were trapped. His loyalty would have needed to have been bought with his freedom; Ron was too annoying to realize that important fact, but Ginny was smart enough to know. She also would never tell her brothers about this. She greedily kept it to herself and that was how she often kept her spot as Percy’s favorite sibling. It had a rather obvious requirement. Be nice to Percy. But her brothers were boys and they stunk horribly. They were thick headed to the point this obvious requirement was one they couldn’t see. It was from her careful cultivation of remaining the favorite sibling that Percy, despite being captured and without the ability to use his arms, said with a sniff, “I agree with Ginny.”
Fred and George burst into laughter, using each other to remain upright. Ron stomped his foot and crossed his arms. “Not fair,” he mumbled.
Being Percy’s favorite had perks. The first being that mum trusted his word the most. And Ron had just been played. He lost his advantage in a snap. Ginny wielded her stick like a sword with gusto, teasingly shaking it at Ron. His face became redder and redder with each shake of the stick. Finally, he lunged forward. Ginny was smaller and lighter on her feet so she dodged easily out of the way.
Percy was not as lucky with his current entrapment. He was flung backward to the ground with Ron who landed on his chest in an awkward sprawl. “Ronald, get off!” he wheezed. Fred took some pity and grabbed Ron under his arms, hauling him up onto his feet. George, laughing, guided Percy back to the tree stump. Ginny hid once more behind Percy and grinned over his shoulder at Ron.
“I’ll get you back, Ginevra,” Ron threatened with narrowed eyes.
“I’d like to see you try, Ronald,” Ginny shot back, pointing her stick weapon at him and using their older brother’s shoulder as a balance. Percy was eyeing them both with a grimacing face that reminded Ginny of an old baby doll their mum had given her years ago. It was an ugly thing. So, of course, a younger Ginny absolutely adored it. She would sneak into Ron’s room and hide it in different places for him to find; she always knew when he had because he’d scream like a girl. Alas, her great fun came to an end when Ron exploded it into bits of plastic and stuffing in a fit of accidental magic.
Fred jumped in between them—George giving him a look like he thought his twin was crazy—and spread out his hands between the two youngest. “Children, children. ‘tis not the time for blood feuds!”
“Exactly!” George said from the sidelines. “It’s a time for merriment, for sibling bonding—”
“With our dear brothers—”
“—and sister, of course,” George quickly cut in with a wink at Ginny. She rolled her eyes dramatically at the twins.
“Actually, I didn’t want to be here,” Percy said, peering up at them. It was then Ginny realized he was missing his glasses. She cringed, her nose furrowing, and quickly searched the ground for them. It was weird to see him without them. Like her brother was naked or horribly disfigured. Ron seemed to have gotten the same idea and abruptly began searching the ground with her. Together, they forgot their ‘blood feud’ in the quest of making their older brother Percy look like their older brother Percy. He looked so young without them.
“Did you know we were that good?” Fred asked George with an arched eyebrow.
George squinted at Percy. “Sorry, twin o’ mine, but I think it was actually Percy that got them to stop.”
Fred turned and looked at Percy, too, and tilted his head. He made a noise half-between disgust and disgruntled. Percy’s lips pursed as he shifted at the attention. “Your glasses came off,” Ron answered the unspoken question.
“I know that. That does not explain—” Ginny found his glasses with a joyous cry. She slammed them on his face and he blinked at the harsh treatment. “That was completely uncalled for.”
Ron patted him on the head. “But now you look like our Percy.” Then he wandered off to the pond’s edge, his attention dwindling now that he wasn’t upset with their sister. Percy looked up at the trees above their heads with a sigh, his shoulders slumping. His eyes found a spot across the way and Ginny knew they had lost him; he was likely already thinking of Percy-like things now. Like Penny, his summer homework, or his prefect duties.
In silent agreement, the Weasley siblings each wandered off to their own devices. Except for Percy considering he was still labeled as a ‘runner.’ It wouldn’t be safe to release him until he said he wouldn’t run back to the Burrow and lock himself in his room. Ron found a particularly shiny pile of rocks half in the pond water. Fred found a big tree and was currently setting up a bet with George on how quickly he could climb up to the top. Ginny, meanwhile, sat at the edge of the pond. Lost a bit in thought.
Something she would never tell anyone—and something that would never feature in later telling of the magic fish—was that she sometimes daydreamed what it would have been like if one of her brothers had been a sister instead. It was usually Percy she imagined as a sister. Stern and tough but always on her side, she liked to think he would have made a brilliant big sister. Even now, she had managed to get him to talk with her about boys. Well…not really talk. He would listen silently and then give strong comments if she said something about a boy that he knew was a troublemaker. It was close enough, she figured, to girls talk. He never teased her over those talks or made fun of her for playing with dolls and how she secretly liked the color pink and he never, never, never told anyone of how she’d beg him to braid her hair before bed when the nights were humid.
Fred sometimes helped with braiding her hair, too. He also never told anyone. Privately, Ginny preferred Percy’s braiding; it always held up far longer, but she wouldn’t tell Fred that. Unless he made her angry one day and then all bets were off.
Even in her imagination, Percy wasn’t a practically nice girl. Ginny found she liked that. Her imaginary big sister wouldn’t fold to expectations for a girl but she wouldn’t be sporty like Ginny. Percy would still be bookish, a bit of a prat, and a swot. But he would have been a vicious big sister. Ginny was nearly certain about that. She sighed dejectedly. It was just a daydream—she had horribly smelly big brothers, even Percy, though she supposed he was only slightly less smelly than the others.
She wondered if there was a spell or potion that would change her brothers into sisters.
As Ginny pondered, mindlessly stabbing her stick into the water and swirling it around pond scum, a small lump caught the corner of her eye. Before she could poke at it, Ron called out her name. The lump vanished under the murky water. He called out to her again and gestured for her. “Gin, gimmie your stick,” he demanded, already reaching for her stick. She pulled it back and half-hid it behind her leg.
“No. It’s mine. Go find your own, you troll.”
“Come on! I just want—”
“Want what?” she asked, now curious with a calculating glint to her eyes. Ron spotted it almost instantly and scowled.
He wordlessly pointed at the shiny rocks in the water. One of his cheeks were puffed out and Ginny couldn’t help but snort at how ridiculous it made him look. “You know the rules. If you want my help, you have to give me half.”
“What are you a goblin?” Ron loudly groaned, kicking at the ground. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him and silently raised her stick with the intention to hit him again. “Fine,” he reluctantly relented.
Ginny nodded, knelt down, and reached out with her stick. The shiny rocks were far away from the edge and she struggled to strain her arm forward. She disturbed the water, splashing her stick helplessly and harmlessly in the pond. It caught George’s attention.
“What are you two gremlins doing?”
Before Ginny could rapidly shake her head at Ron, the dolt answered earnestly, “We’re trying to get those rocks. They’re shiny.” His dull, innocent face twisted into confusion at Ginny’s groan. How many times would it take it for her brother to learn? You never asked the twins or Percy or Ginny herself for aid if you want to keep all of the things you were trying to get.
“The rules, you dumbarse!” Ginny shouted.
Ron shrugged in answer, rubbing the back of his flushed neck. “I forgot.”
George looked out at the shiny rocks, his hand casting a shadow across his eyes as he held it up. “Oh, that’s all? Oi, Fred! Toss me a stick!” Fred answered with a quick ‘aye, aye, captain’ and a stick landed on the ground under the tree he was in. With the stick in George’s hand, Ginny eyed it jealously, her mouth puckering. It was larger than hers. That simply wasn’t fair! She looked down at her own suddenly small stick. It was pathetic now. While George got onto his hands and knees, she glared at the back of his head for daring to find a better stick than hers. It was practically cheating, too! She chanted in her head, trying to fuel it with her stare, I want that stick. She’d kick her brother into the pond if he didn’t give her it. Then she’d kick Fred into it because they were twins and deserved the same punishment. George shuddered as he tried to reach the prize. To Ginny’s satisfaction he couldn’t reach the rocks either.
Percy suddenly sighed behind them on his tree stump. “You do know that the pond isn’t that deep?” At George’s blink, he sighed again—looking like he’d love nothing more than to pinch the bridge of his nose—and continued, “Waddle to it.”
George snapped his fingers and his mouth fell open. “Good point! See, you do sometimes have good ideas, Perce.” Percy grumbled something they couldn’t catch. George stood quickly before jumping into the pond with a great splash. Ron kicked at it while Ginny sidestepped. The water came up to his knees and, as he waddled as Percy suggested, it sunk up to his mid-thighs. He ended up at a point where the land under the pond went back up. The shiny rocks rested there. Quickly, he snatched them up then was waddling back to the edge where Ron was leaning forward in excitement. Ginny was too busy studying her new stick; George had dropped it so now it was hers. Her old stick laid on the ground where Ron had quickly snatched it. She held her new stick to her chest when George left the pond and he attempted to hold his arms up in surrender, nearly dropping the rocks to the ground. There were five. George picked out two with a wink. He skipped to where Fred was slowly climbing down from his tree. Ginny stole another two.
Ron stared sullenly at his single shiny rock. “Told you not to ask,” Ginny said with a roll of her eyes. She tossed Percy’s new rock into his lap which he barely glanced at before resuming to look at nothing across the pond.
The lump was back, this time showing more of itself above the surface. Ginny approached it slowly, kneeling and scooting up right to the edge.
She poked at the odd thing breaching the pond scum with her liberated stick. It opened to reveal a bright purple eye. She blinked at it, it blinked at her. “Neat,” she whispered to herself before poking at its side again. This time it trembled in response before—far too quickly for Ginny to jump back—it jumped out of the water with a gurgling noise. The pond’s water splashed up and over her. She sputtered, gagging. “Oh! It got into my mouth!” she loudly complained with a retch as she sprung up like a weed and hopped from one leg to another. A massive four-legged fish stood in front of her. It hissed, its mouth opening to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Bulbous purple eyes rolled around before settling firmly on Ginny. She gulped. “Oh. That’s not—” A slimy tongue wrapped around her ankle and yanked her towards the water. She screamed.
“Ginny!” Percy was struggling to stand, violently trying to free his arms.
The twins ran and quickly grabbed what they could of Ginny. They snatched her from the fish's grip, but the fish balanced on three legs and used the fourth to punch one of them. Fred wheezed and George—thinking fast—grabbed him and Ginny both before back peddling. “That fish surely has a strong arm,” Fred groaned out, rubbing his chest and coughing.
“Must be all that swimming.” George warily eyed the creature. “What even is it?”
“How would I—” Fred began. Ron interrupted with a screech. They would have made fun of him for the sound, but him being tossed into the air obviously had given him a pass. The twins looked at each other for a brief moment before they were running. Fred snatched Ron before he landed in the fish’s wide-open mouth, rolling with the movement and then stopping in what appeared to be a rough landing. His face scrunched and he grabbed at his shoulder. George snuck behind the creature and grabbed its flank. He managed to pull it back a couple of steps before it reared back, lashing blindly out with its tail. It struck George dead in the center; he flew through the air, landing with a loud splash into the pond. “George!” Fred scrambled to his feet.
George crawled out of the water, sputtering and coughing out pond water, but before he could respond, the fish was again upon him. He rolled out of the way.
“Ginny! What did you do?”
She glared at Ron. “I didn’t do anything!”
Percy, unbalanced and wavering without the use of his arms, managed to stand from his tree stump prison. “You were poking at the pond.” It wasn’t said accusingly, but Ginny still felt a bit betrayed. She couldn’t stop the sniffle and sob or how her lower lip quivered. She hadn’t known it was a murderous fish. George circled the creature in a wide arc and finally rejoined the rest.
The fish stomped at the ground with a back leg, large eyes narrowed and focused, before it snorted like a bull. It charged forward with a hiss. The Weasleys scattered. Percy tripped over his feet. Ginny watched, horrified as the thing stepped over her older brother, opened its mouth—
She slammed her stick down hard over its head. “Get away from him!” It shook its giant head. Hissing at her, it scuttled backwards on its legs, appearing calmer if it wasn’t for the anger blazing in its eyes.
They were at a stalemate. The fish stood in the path on the way to the Burrow.
“We can—We can wait it out?” Ron suggested.
If the fish had a human face, Ginny was sure it would be smiling smugly. As it was, it rolled its body, tapped all four of its legs on the ground, then planted itself in place. Its eyes never left the five Weasley siblings.
“That appears to be out of the question,” Percy commented dryly. Ron slammed his shoulder into their older brother’s side and Percy teetered. Fred absentmindedly balanced him with a hand.
“I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!” Ron’s face was flushed and the fish chortled. It was a strange noise. Like bones being crushed or one of their dad’s broken muggle machines. His eyes grew wide, face paling. “It’s laughing at me.”
“Pretty sure we can strike out any muggle fish,” George began before he stopped, turning green, and then turning his head to spit out a glob of something from the pond.
“Yeah, so that’s obviously not a muggle fish. In that case it must be a—”
“Magical fish.” Percy’s voice unexpectedly finished George and Fred’s thought.
Ron’s face gradually regained color and he thoughtfully rubbed at his chin as he studied the newly dubbed magical fish like it was a chess board. “If it’s magic then—” he cut himself off, biting his lip in uncertainty. Ginny balled her fist, hitting him sternly in the shoulder, telling him to ‘just get on with it already.’ “Then—Well…maybe it can—You know, understand us?”
Ginny blinked at him. “That’s stupid.”
“You told me to tell you!” Ron sputtered, turning red and puffing out his cheeks once more.
“Yeah, and now I’m saying it’s a stupid idea.”
“Like it was stupid for making the magic fish all angry and bloodthirsty?”
“Why you—!”
George grabbed the back of Ginny’s and Ron’s shirts, pulling them apart. “Oi! No in-fighting when we’re trying to get away from a murderous fish.” The two grumbled and stuck out their tongues at each other as soon as George wasn’t looking at them. Ginny caught Percy’s eye and she flushed at the slow disappointed shake of his head. Stinky brother. Would have been better if you were my sister, she thought vindictively. Ron was the one that started it. She was merely trying to finish it. Besides, it really was a stupid idea. What were they going to do? Dance and hope the entertainment would warm the creature up enough to let them go?
Apparently, that was almost exactly what Fred was thinking. “Oh, great Magic Fish from the Old Pond we have just recently found, I know our naïve sister has enraged you with the prodding of her stick. For this injustice we—we, uh—" He shot a panicked look at them.
George took it up, jumping quickly forward and with a low bow. “We will surely pay you back for it. This young lass is just that—young and vastly inexperienced with the way of the world.”
Ginny scowled at the twins and hefted her stick over one shoulder.
“And for the payment you are due we shall…” George faltered as well, eyes wide and searching. He reached behind him, snatched Ron, and pulled him up.
“Hey!” Fred and George gave him near-identical pleading looks before he finally got what they wanted him to do. “The payment! Uh, yeah. That. We’ll…offer up these shiny rocks.” He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out the shiny rock and holding it aloft like it was precious jewel.
The fish scoffed.
“I don’t think it likes the shiny rocks.”
“Yes, Ron. I imagine it doesn’t want its own property back considering you stole it.” Percy rolled his eyes subtly. The fish tilted its head like it agreed with him.
“What else could a fish want? I mean, it got the legs, the tail, the shiny rocks.”
“A musical!” Fred screamed out, pointing at the fish with a raised, questioning brow. Its eyes somehow grew dull as they became half-lidded and he deflated quickly. “Or not.”
“We’ll never get to do a musical,” George bemoaned. The three boys and Ginny looked at Percy.
“I am not getting into the middle of this mess. You created it now solve it.” He pointedly glanced at his trapped arms then gave the twins each a mean smile.
Ginny tilted her head at the creature, ignoring her brothers as they attempted to brainstorm a new offering. It now wasn’t looking all that stupid. It was reacting to them, to what they were saying. Maybe she really had hurt it when she poked it with her stick? She hadn’t meant to. It was just this strange little lump in the water and she was curious about what it was. Feeling guilty, she stepped up and took a deep breath. “Hello, there.” She pinched Ron’s side as he attempted to pull her back; he yelped and released her. She ignored his ‘violent sister’ comment, keeping her gaze on the fish who was now staring at her intently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what you were and I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The fish closed its eyes, nodded, and then stood. It walked past them, but before they could run down the path to home—to tell their parents about this ordeal—it opened its mouth and spat on them. Ron groaned and shook out his wet suddenly covered in mucus arms. Quick like a light, the twins grabbed the two younger siblings and ran.
As soon as the Burrow was in sight, however, Ginny realized a major problem.
“You—You idiots! You forgot me!” Percy screamed after them evidently stuck with a magic fish and its sharp teeth.
In the Burrow—as their mum and dad would later recall—there had been a great racket outside and it was easily heard from their kitchen.
“Don’t—”
“—gonna hit—”
Ron screaming as he was thrown into the pond.
Percy screaming as he was quickly thrown into the pond with Ron.
“—said I was sorry! What more do you want you freak of nature?!”
The twins loudly and hysterically singing out of tune.
It was at the last that their parents, sharing a look, wandered outside to see what in the name of Merlin they were doing. Their clock hands, their mum would later say with a chuckle, had never once gone to Mortal Peril.
The story would then conclude with the facts of what exactly that magic fish was. It wasn’t actually dangerous. Its sharp teeth weren’t actually sharp; they were dull and it created the illusion they were sharp to dissuade predators. At the time, however, the Weasley siblings hadn’t known that. In reality the magic fish they met was simply being mischievous. It was angry, yes, but it just wanted to play a trick on them. A rather mean trick. But a trick, nonetheless. It wanted to show them what it felt like to be poked by a stick.
George and Percy would go back to that same pond a year after the war. George would dub that magic fish Forge with the sad, quivering smile of an ache that would not ease fast into the night. It feels right, he would say.
Percy would nod and reply, Fred would have liked that. A mischievous name for a mischievous fish.
And the magic fish, named Forge, would quietly sink to the bottom of its pond. It would send a thankful thought to George for the name and it would mourn for the lost Weasley. The two brothers would then be joined by Ron and Ginny where they would sit and tell the story of Forge amongst themselves in the near silence of the still pond. The stories—the memories—would then continue; they would talk into the night on that anniversary, eventually joined by Harry and Hermione who would hesitate at first before being pulled into their circle.
Do you remember when—?
What about that time where—?
You had no hair!
Remember, remember, remember.
For now, however, it remained a silly story about an unnamed magic fish that Ginny had enraged with a stick. A story that would eventually mean a lot to George, Percy, Ron, and Ginny just as the story of the joke quill eventually would in the future without Fred.
Just silly stories, Ginny would think in the after, smiling. Just silly memories we can share. Memories she discovered, especially the happy ones that made them laugh, were far more precious than she ever realized and she hoarded them with the same jealous greediness she once had over those sticks.