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“We need to come up with something great…”
“…because it's Halloween, which means…”
“…a large revenue.”
“You understand me perfectly, brother.”
“Yes, brother, I do.”
The end of October is a good time for new experiments. He understood this, his brother understood this. Every year they tried to come up with some extraordinary candy to surprise everyone. To come up with something that would be remembered for a long time. One day, this mania would lead them to fame. Or to Azkaban.
It wasn't the first time they broke school rules. It wasn't the first time they spent hours in an abandoned restroom preparing their new projects instead of sleeping. Today, however, it was harder to get out of the tower as Snape furiously went through the corridors, catching curious students. And why not be curious when Hogwarts became a “pumpkin” overnight?
The roots were carefully peeled from their skin, right down to the yellow core, to be placed on a wooden plank that had been soaked in a fireproofing potion beforehand. Hot, dry air shot out from the tip of the wand and completely enveloped the plant. Not just one. Not two. It wasn’t the first night that they processed almost a whole bag of roots. Not to overdo it, so that the inner juice wouldn’t concentrate and spoil the whole taste.
It was an art. And not just preparing the root. They had to extract the extract from it, slowly stew it over a fire so that it became viscous, so that it acquired a tart flavor that would leave mouth watering. Only then could they add the crushed charcoal of the fire tree and a pinch of salt. The fire was so hot that their faces would flush. Stir constantly and just pray that no lumps would appear.
Fred managed to preserve the perfect texture of the salted liquorice, and George learned how to skillfully separate a drop from the fire breath potion to carefully combine it with the Pepperup Potion. It was a strange mixture, but it gave an extra burning sensation in the throat and created black smoke. Fred tested it on himself, although George didn’t share his experiments.
What they were making wasn’t just sweets, not just a potion. When the liquorice became a small agate-colored ball, hiding a small capsule with a potion inside, they started with the chocolate. Oh, how many nerves and time were spent trying to figure out how to melt the milk disks in an ordinary cauldron and in an abandoned restroom, and how to preserve their structure so that they would harden in the right shape and the taste wouldn’t be burnt.
They agreed that these candies would be shaped like dragons. Small, no bigger than a thumb, but moving. They had only one final move left — to bring the wings to life, to make everything even more unique. With each new wave of the magic shelf, with each new spell, the dragon rose for only two wing flaps, and then fell to the cold tiles at their feet and melted. George threw his wand on the floor in frustration and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He was tired. He was so tired.
“Hey,” Fred called softly, putting his hand on brother’s shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly, “What's wrong?”
“As if you don't see,” George lowered his head and looked at his brother, “I'm ruining everything. Everything.”
“Come on,” Fred said cheerfully and lightheartedly, picking up George's wand to place it in his hand. “It's nothing.” He squeezed brother's fingers in his hands. “Come on, you'll do everything great. I believe in you.”
He believed in him.
He believed.
He did.
He touched on his own reflection in the window of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Fred. Turned his head to the left to see his auricle missing. George. There were jokes. There were so many jokes. And now there was nothing. Only memories.
Again, Halloween came to free Magical Britain. Again, the store was filled with customers who wanted to buy more than just “tricks”. Laughter, joy, and fun were what he and his brother wanted so much. But now Fred lived only in memories, existed only in thoughts.
“I miss you,” George whispered and went to the door of the store to finally open it and put on a mask of serenity. “I miss your faith, brother.”