He caught the Katie

I step behind the end of the aisle and consider how best to approach this without gettin’ my head chewed off by my ex-teammate, but still bein’ li’l ol’ me. Then I get it, just the thing. It’s a joke button that takes precision to launch, an item fashioned after the ol’ muggle gag, ‘tapping you on one shoulder but being behind the other.’ Fred and I spent a whole week on it and used to tease the kneazles outta ol’ Prat-faced Perce…back when he was Prat-faced.

I just so happen to have such a button on me in my pocket, and aim and lob it toward Katie’s shoulder. If it lands right, it’ll stick to ‘er robes well enough to stay on when she turns. Then, once it’s planted, I’ll tap the sister button in my hand so it’ll tap her shoulder. The trick is the landing. I wait to see if it sticks.

She glances over her shoulder, feeling it land but not seeing anything fishy as she continues to walk onwards through the aisles. From what I can see of her basket she's also buying rather large family packs of just about everything.

Hmm…interesting. Have to ask ‘er about that once I’ve had my fun toyin’ with ‘er for a while. Maybe ‘er landmuggle’s suddenly gained a voracious appetite in her advancing age. Dunno, at the mo, more important things at hand. I wait ‘til she’s reached out to grab something from off a shelf and then tap the remote button.

Right on cue she glances over her shoulder and frowns at the absence of...well...anyone. She turns to check the other shoulder looking doubly puzzled, shrugs, then continues her shopping, picking out the item she was after and dropping it in her basket.

As she reaches the end of the aisle, I prepare to book it to one of the neighbouring aisles, but then notice she’s stopped at the back wall, lookin’ over its wares. I hold the remote button in my palm and, with intent purpose, tap twice so’s she can’t be mistakin’ it to be anything other than a tap.

Again she looks over her shoulder and frowns, then reaches into her pocket, drawing her wand out, as well as a few other pebble lookin’ things she scatters on the ground. She whips her wand through the air quickly, leaving a string of glowing blue symbols hanging in the air around her. Another flick of her wand and the symbols expand to a large shield around her, the pebbles on the floor seeming to radiate light.

A shield, eh? This’ll be interesting to see if this little majiggy works through those sorta things. Though dunno if this is gonna backfire on me in any way, so I place the remote button on a package of sugar and wrap my finger in the hem of my shirt. Then I tap three times.

She frowns a moment, then reaches over her shoulder, her hand closing on the partner of my button and she tugs it off her robe scowling.

I see her roll her eyes, dismantling the shield with another wave of her wand, before she summons the pebbles back into her pocket. "Fred, George, I know it's you. Come on out."

Still not through, I get rid of my protective measures and tap directly on the button in morse code, End of the aisle. Hi Kigs.

Her frown turns to one of puzzlement and she aims her wand at her button. I feel a jolt of static zap my finger from the button and Kigs smirks in my direction, one eyebrow raised.

“You obviously didn’t pay attention to your secret codes lessons!” I call down the aisle to a smattering of shhhhh.

She laughs and follows the sound of my voice, "Right now I'm remembering the hieroglyphics of ancient Egypt, the Greek Alphabet, Phoenician, Aztec, Mayan and Persian, without forgetting English. You'll have to pardon me if I don't know morse code."

“Well, you oughta learn,” I pout. “How’n the world can I send my Kippary Chimes some naughty secret message to make ‘er blush ‘til her knickers catch fire iffin’ ya don’t!”

"You could do what normal people do and write it in invisible ink. Or you could learn any one of the aforementioned alphabets to use," she retorts with a grin. "Personally I recommend hieroglyphs, it's most distinctive and the little pictures are quite cute sometimes."

“But somebody might get ahold of it!” I gasp. “And then they’d know our dirty little secret! Kigs, I would never, ever want my naughty blush-worthy messages to fall into the wrong hands. Just think o’ the younguns who’d get the wrong idea and come at me. No thank you!”

"Oh? What dirty little secret did you want to tell me?" She asks, her witchy gossip curiosity perking up. "And if you want to keep it secret go for Phoenician. It's too like the Greek with some letters, it gets confusing."

“Learn morse and find out,” I say, winking at her. “So, Maggie’s got some kinda appetite, eh?”

"Huh? Maggie? Oh! No, um, I don't live with Maggie anymore. This is for Oliver," she says, grinning at me, her cheeks colouring slightly.

“Ooooo, Oooolliiiie,” I tease. “Y’mean ‘cute bum’ Oliver?”

This time her cheeks colour more than just slightly, going a shade of Gryffindor scarlet that even Ronnikins would be proud of, "Yes, that's the one. Oliver Wood, cute ass, muscles, nice eyes and a great kisser."

“So, the chaser caught the team cap, eh?” I ask. “Hang on to him, mate. He’s a keeper!”

"Yes, you're not the first to come up with that joke and no doubt you won't be the last...but he is special and just so amazing to be around," she sighs happily, grinning at me. "Besides, it was more him that caught me was how it started.”

“Well, guess that is what Keepers do,” I muse. “Though my guess is he wasn’t tryin’ to keep you from scoring.”

She snorts, "You do have a way with words, Georgie. So what's up with you and Freckles. I assume he's not here or I'd have been pranked again by now. He still with that witch he refuses to introduce me to?"

I raise my eyebrow, then shrug. “The other half’s doin’ the figures. I ran outta meat for brainloaf.”

"Do you have to give your foods such...interesting names?" She asks, pulling a face as she falls into step beside me as we continue our shopping together. "It always tastes good but the names are just so...ick."

“Oh come on,” I say, nudging her. “It’s brain food. Good for ya.” I poke her in the side and grin. I just love squickin’ the girl out.

"Actually brainfood would be fish, not meat," She retorts, grinning. "Never ate so much fish as when I'm doing exams. Thank goodness Oliver's not a fussy eater. How's the Wheezes anyway? Got any new inventions lined up?"

"Mmm...a few," I say evasively. "Trudes about lynched us when we got outta Mungos, so we hired three more people. She's still about to lynch us half the time, but at least it placated her for a while."

"I'm pretty sure it isn't being busy that makes her want to lynch you Georgie," Katie smirks, "How did you heal up anyway? Your ear seems to be healing well, even if it is at an odd angle...oh wait no, that's just your head." She ducks to avoid the playful swipe I send at her, grinning and laughing. "No cravings for raw meat once a month?"

“Only for your oh-so-temptulicious shoulder,” I remark. “It’s healed up alright, I s’pose, though it took its time doin’ it. Mum kept whackin’ at it. But Reggie’s takin’ it under her tender loving care. This,” I say, gesturing to my ear, “is her newborn kit.”

She snickers, "Great, a battle between your Mum and a kneazle over who has rights to your ear. Bet you're glad to be in the middle of that one."

I sigh dramatically. “I tell ya, I don’t know how long this new ear’s gonna last. But I think I’d rather Mum goin’ at my ear again than what she’s been doin’.”

Katie frowns a moment, "Why? What's she been doing? Is everything alright?"

I cross my arms, glowering. “It’s terrible, Kiggles. They’re younger’n you. All of ‘em.”

She looks at me in puzzlement before realization dawns and she starts howling with laughter, "Oi! Georgie I'm sorry! She's been ma-...match making? Oh you poor soul!"

“Figures she can fix me right up,” I sigh. “Like managing to attach me to a preschooler’ll fix my wiring or whatnot. She’s unnaturally nice, oh sure, and she means well, but I prefer gettin’ my ear yanked about, to getting shoved into nuptials with a kinderling.”

"Want me to have a word with her? Witch to witch?" she offers. "If your Mum means well, she may just need someone to translate between twin-speak and English to explain how you feel."

I hoot with laughter. “Wouldn’t do any good, Kigs. She sees you comin’, she’d prob’ly try to snag you for me. I’ve explained in so many different ways, she just doesn’t get it. She thinks it’s a phase.”

"Well quite clearly she's not understanding the way you explain it, which is why most likely you need a translator. She's used to you going against her, remember? Of course you're going to say the opposite of what she feels even if it isn't true. Someone else says it however, she might start listening. Besides, I'm taken thank you very much and with no intentions of being set up."

I snort. “You’re too old anyhow. She’s been shoppin’ in the ‘barely legal’ section of the bachelorette store. I guess the younger the better. If I wasn’t ‘deluding’ myself, she’d no doubt throw a fit if I was dating somebody that young.”

"Hey!" she grabs my shoulders suddenly, twisting me to face her. Wrestling temptation with Ollie certainly got her strong, "She can't tell the difference!"

“Between?”

"Who do you think? You and Fred," she says exasperatedly.

“Yeah, most days, sure. What’s that to do with this witches issue?”

She rolls her eyes, "Well...Fred's dating a younger witch right? All she has to do is see ‘you’ and her together a couple of times and you're off the hook. At least until Fred wants to go whole hog and introduce her to your parents. By which time she'll be freaking out that his girlfriend is so young and he'd better have been a gentleman."

I laugh out loud. “Fred doesn’t want Mum to know, I reckon. Every time the subject of dating comes up, he always shoots me that ‘keep mum’ look. And I know it means, ‘keep Mum away from my dating life, too early for her to know.’ If Mum saw me with a witchlet, she’d scramble on over. Wouldn’t leave it as just spotting me a few times, she’d want all the details. So nope, that’s outta the question. No Fred’n Astair playin’ George’n witchlet.”

Katie shrugs, "Well, I'm out of ideas. Talking to her won't work, tricking her won't work, even though that's what you're best at. Maybe you should just try and rewire her instead of her rewiring you."

I laugh. “Rewiring Mum. A challenge, me likies. Or maybe I just oughta go out and get myself permanently attached to a lovely, go to all the family functions together, Christmas, weddings, bar mitzvahs, may pole dances, the like, so she’s got to accept it.”

"Or you could do the report card trick," Kiggles suggests, "The whole, 'actually I'm dating a fourteen year old who I've convinced into being my slave and selling herself for money to support my drug habit and alcoholism. She's already pregnant with my baby...' Then when she freaks out about that just point out that none of that is true but in comparison, is dating the older witch really that bad?"

“At least the first way, she’d get a grandweasley outta me,” I point out.

"Yes, one that is most likely damaged from the alcohol and drugs and would grow up without a father because the mother was underage and you'd be arrested," she explains. "Even your Mum isn't that broody."

“I dunno,” I say. “Could be, but damn that oldest brother o’ mine. Gave ‘er a taste o’ grandbebby and she wants more, more, more.”

"Well hopefully things will improve soon before she actually does manage to rewire you," she teases, "I like you the way you are thanks."

“Aww…” I throw my arm around Katie’s shoulder and lean against her, making her stumble to the side from the unexpected action. “I like you the way you are, too. Say, is Maggie single?” I joke.

"Maggie's single," she confirms, grinning mischieviously, "And you made quite an impression on the old dear, she rather liked your sense of humour."

I bat my eyes. “What can I say, the ladies love me. So why’d ya move out, anyway? Ollie’s trous—*ahem*— flat open up and you just couldn’t resist?”

She scowls at me, "Oliver and I haven't gone that far up. We moved in together just as friends. He needed a place to stay when he wasn't on tour, I needed a place without a muggle landlady to practice my cursebreaking, it worked out as old friends, then one night we were just messing around...and he kissed me, though I'll admit I'd been wanting him for some time."

“Sneaky keeper. Well, not everybody’s as much of a fuck-easy as I am, I guess,” I say. “But then you lot all go for the distance anyhow. Don’t wanna mess up the ‘ever after’ with a too-soon shag.”

"George! If your mother heard that language she'd smack you into next week!" She exclaims looking shocked. "I think Oliver would go all the way, but you know my first time was a one nighter who didn't even stick around until morning. Why would a guy do that? I mean..." she stops pulling me to the side of the aisle, lowering her voice, "What if it was me? What if I was so bad...Oliver deserves better than that."

I snort. “I doubt that’s it. He was probably intimidated by just how good you were. Either that or he knew if he saw those bonny browns, he’d be whipped, so he bailed before you woke up.”

"Maybe, I suppose I should have known what sort of wizard he was going to be, and Oliver's not at all like that," she sighs, still frowning. "Your Mum should focus on fixing jerks like him before she tries to 'fix' you."

“Start a Mum Weasley ‘How to be a proper Weasley gentlewizard,’” I suggest. “I’ll mention it to ‘er next time she comes ‘round to tell me about another younger’n Ginny.”

"Younger than Ginny? You realise if you dated someone that young naturally she would be freaking out about how inappropriate that would be," Katie sighs, clearly not understanding Mum's motives. "Why can't she just be happy that she gave birth to five perfectly normal children and two disfunctional weirdos?"

“Because we’re not weirdos the way she wants us to be weirdos, I guess,” I shrug. “Fred and I don’t mind it she doesn’t agree with the way we are. It’s when she tries to take a hands-on approach it starts to gripe.”

"Still you're twenty two years old now. It's about time she just accepted, you flew the nest, built your own."

I throw my arm around her shoulder as we near the registers. “How little you understand our mum. She’s gotta have her fingers in everybody’s business until they die. We could be pushin’ a century and she’d still feel like she’s got the right and responsibility to it.”

"I suppose you're lucky in a way, at least she cares, though I would have told her to shove off before now. You have to live your own life. She's had her fun."

I stop and stare at her. I’ve told Mum to mind ‘er own business, but never really to shove off. The thought of tellin’ our well-meaning, overbearing, mollycoddling mum to shove off is just too ridiculous and I start laughing. “I don’t think any of us have told Mum to shove off, not even Perce when ‘e left us for the Ministry.”

"Yeah, none of you have ever stood up to her, she's got you all whipped, even her badboy twins who buck authority at every turn." Katie points out, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Well, we never did go hungry under her watch,” I point out. “And spoiled our taste-buds rotten, I’ll have you know. And on how little Dad made and how many of us there were, that’s not something to shrug off.”

"Hey I had parents too y'know. Your mum will always be your mum, she'll always be there when you need her and you'll always be eternally grateful for what a good job she did raising you. But she has to learn to step back when you don't need her. Living your own life doesn't mean shrugging off what she did. It just means you've taken what she's taught you and used it to become a happy, responcible, considerate adult. She should be happy about that."

“Oi, I know it. All of it,” I say. “Fred and I’ve been independent since about the time we started Hogwarts. I’m not sayin’ I’m lettin’ her tell me how to live my life, and I’ve said in how many ways that it’s my life and I’m happy the way I run it, but Mum is Mum. Futile words of defense fallen on deaf ears. But it’s not like I can just not answer the door when she comes knocking.”

"You could try. She wants you to be happy, any good mother wants that. Her interfering and pestering is making you unhappy and yet she ignores your protests. SOMETHING needs to get through to her. Perhaps getting on with your own life without her might do that. Otherwise you're just going to end up with this growing resentment that could tear your family apart. You've had enough of that lately but when you love people so much, it only takes something little to cause big damage."

“Shuttin’ the door in Mum’s face? Ignoring her? Would never do that to ‘er,” I say, shaking my head. “We all saw how torn up she was when Perce excommunicated himself from the family. And even if it’s Mum’s fault she doesn’t listen, I wouldn’t ever wanna see ‘er that torn up. Besides that, it’s just me she’s harassing. But if I did something like that, it’d affect Fred, too.”

"So instead of standing up to her and teaching her to mind her own you're willing to tear apart the family? You're not choosing the Ministry over family in times of war, you just want your own life. For Merlin's sake George, grow a spine!" She exclaims frustratedly. "I want to see you happy. Her interfering is making you unhappy. Either you do something or I will, and unlike you I have no reason to be gentle or nice about it."

I raise my eyebrows. “Tear apart my family? If I hurt Mum, that’s gonna tear apart the family. I hurt Mum, first Charlie’s gonna come after me, then Dad, then Charlie again, then Bill and Ginny and…well, you get the idea. It will be the United Weasley Front against your own ickle twins.”

"You don't have to hurt her, just tell her to back the hell off. If you don't I will, witch to witch. If she's going to act like a dictatorial harpy someone needs to remind her that her children's happiness is more important."

“You think I haven’t been tellin’ ‘er to cut it out? She doesn’t listen. A week later, she’s back tellin’ me about another one. No matter how many times and how many ways I tell ‘er, without becoming a bad-mouthing little twit, she just brushes it off.”

"Then stop listening. If she won't listen, taste of her own medicine should do the trick. I don't know. I don't have exactly the best experience with parents. I suppose you could just be glad she's not trying to burn you at the stake." Kigs sighs as the witch at the registers checks out her shopping.

I laugh. “Well yeah, there’s always that. And at least she’s leavin’ us alone about the business. I dunno, heard from the Luna moth that the ribbons are goin’ back on the market soon, so maybe with business goin’ back to 5 days a week, Mum’ll be too busy to be a bother. She can go back to bossing the vampires around, like she’s s’posed to.”

"Vampires?" she pulls a face, "Don't think I ever met one of those...still muggle stories are bad enough. Though if anyone can keep 'em in line it's your Mum. What happened with those book ribbons anyway? One day they were for sale, next it was like a ghost shop, no one knew what I was talking about."

“The Ministry, dear little things, decided to sue ‘er. Didn’t get all the details, but the ribbons were recalled and she went to ‘er lawyer. Now she’s sayin’ the ribbons should be back on the market on the seventeenth, and she’s plannin’ to do a few more titles by popular demand.” I set my basket down for the store clerk and lean on the edge of the counter. “Good on her, I say. I know she was worried about payin’ us.”

"Any plans for any muggle books. I know, I'm one of those dreadful 'mudbloods' the Malfoy's were worried about contaminating their precious bloodlines...but if nothing else we have imagination for good books, they'd be popular introduced to this world."

“Dunno,” I tilt my head back and tap my chin as the register wand scans the purchases. “When she was pitchin’ the products to us, she brought in a sample that she’d done ‘erself. It was a muggle book she said ‘er mum used to read to ‘er. The Dark Is Rising. You heard of it?”

"I have indeed, it's a good one too. Lord of the Rings would be good too, or The Chronicles of Narnia," she lists a few more books as she picks up her bags of shopping. "Knew I should have sent Oliver. Muscles can always carry more shopping."

I narrow my eyes. “Are you oh so subtly asking me to carry something for you, Kigs?”

"I can manage, shortie, but thanks for the offer," she grins, shrinking the shopping to a more manageable size.

“I may be short, but I could still toss ya over my shoulder and whisk thee away,” I say, winking saucily at her. “But I’ll leave that Ollie, Ollie, oxen-free.”

"We both know I'm twenty years too young for you to whisk me away anywhere. Like I was too young for Oliver when we were at school...he doesn't seem to think so now..." she smirks, giving me the impression she's thinking of something that even I don't want to know about our old Captain, however useful it would be for prankin'.

“Well alright, Miss Smarty Knickers,” I say as I hand a couple galleons and a handful of sickles over the register. “But you tell Mr. Keeper Boy that it’s my teeth get first dibs on that shoulder. Fact that…I never did have the snack I set out for!” I make a comical grab for her shoulder and open my mouth wide.

I feel a sharp clip around the back of my head, "If I go home with a hickey what the hell do you think Ollie will say? No thank you, Georgie-porgie. You'll have to chew on someone else’s shoulder from now on."

I pull an exaggerated pout, but can’t help but feel a small sting of regret inside. “I see how it is,” I sniff dramatically. “You find yourself a beau and then just toss me aside.”

"George, I couldn't lift you, let alone toss you. You know you're always stuck with me. Just rather not get any more bruises than necessary. Especially not bite marks that might ruin this relationship before it's begun. Oliver's not the jealous type really but I didn't think my ex was either until he got drunk and gave me a black eye for apparently sleeping with the entire Quidditch team."

I hold up my right hand, the forefinger and thumb positioned a millimeter away. “Just a tiny one? No bruising? Pweese…?”

"Alright," she rolls her eyes. "Can't resist your puppy eyes."

I rub my hands together and grin. Knew she couldn’t resist. “Danku,” I say and my wide-open jaw descends on her poor, unsuspecting shoulder. But, rather than clamp down like I usually would, I hover my teeth on the verge of pressure. Not the same, I sigh inside. That’s gonna be one thing I’ll miss, full shoulder rights.

“Sir, your purchases,” the sales clerk says, holding out my bags. I try to twist around to grab them, still holding onto her shoulder, but have to let go to grab my things. “Well, Kigs, I guess this is goodbye, old pal.”

"It is, but I'll probably be by soon to buy some prank stuff for Ollie, he takes himself far too seriously at times, though I do need to make it up to him for Kash going nuclear on his Quidditch pads. Those things were made to withstand bludgers, not kneazle kits," she winces. "Take care of yourself Georgie."

“You too, Kigs. You prank that boy good, y’hear? He was far too serious for anybody’s good. If it weren’t for Fredgie and me, the team woulda been doomed to eternal dullitude.”

She chuckles and waves as she leaves the store, and I gather up the last of my bags as the shopper behind me taps ‘is toe. May be a tad silly to feel a loss about not chomping on Katie’s shoulder anymore, but I always have. Almost as long as I’ve known ‘er. Still, I’m right happy for her she managed to snag the ol’ Quidditch cap. Wait ‘til Fred hears.