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He was a vampire. She was a werewolf. Who saw that coming? by Oatmeal
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He was a vampire. She was a werewolf. Who saw that coming?

Oatmeal

Chapter 6: The Reintroduction of the best Harry Potter characters ever

Harry's face looked storm ridden as if a dark cloud has become a permanent fixture on his face. This was not far off the mark considering he volunteered to be a test subject for one of Fred and George's new products: "The Pocket Storm." A small black cloud was gently raining on Harry's head, causing his usual messy hair to fall flat. He didn't show an inch of discomfort. In fact it wasn't so much volunteering as the Twins just floated the cloud his way as he sulked on the counter. Sadly the small dark little storm cloud looked positively cheery compared to Harry's demeanor.

The cloud dissipated after a few moments, much to the Twins' dismay. George picked up a towel and tossed it at Harry while Fred scribbled on some parchment.

"Here Harry," said George, "dry off now."

"I like the flow," commented Fred while still looking over his parchment, "but we still have to work on the longevity of the cloud. I'm afraid we might make it too heavy if we add anything more to it."

"Once again brother of mine, you are correct," said George with a smile, "perhaps if we tweaked the amount of powd…"

George stopped in his tracks as he saw that Harry hasn't moved from his spot. In fact he didn't even catch the towel as it just slumped there on his head; making him like a poor half visible ghost. They slowly walked over and slowly picked up a corner of the towel as if trying to join Harry under the small piece of cloth.

"What's a matter Harry?" asked Fred.

"Why are you so miserable?" asked George.

Harry just sighed, his face looking blanker than Lockheart's obliviated mind.

"Come on now Harry," said Fred. "We're your friends. You could tell us."

When Harry's face didn't change at all, George said, "We're also your bosses…we can make you tell us."

"Fine…then fire me," said Harry coldly without blinking. "It'd probably do me a load of good."

The towel dropped, covering Harry's face again. Fred and George were taken aback with his forwardness. Fred actually felt a bit flustered by the comment, even angry.

"Now see here Harry," started Fred, pointing his finger at the towel covered face of Harry. "We've put up with a lot since you've been here. It's been bearable at first, even funny, but recently you've just been bringing the vampire gloom that you complain about into the shop. I'm sorry but that's bad for business and we'll have to let you g…"

George stopped him mid-sentence bringing his twin to the back of the shop. They whispered between each other. Fred seemed a bit more apprehensive, his voice sounding loud enough to hear words like; no we can't or it's his problem. Harry even thought he heard something about a claw and a throat. It ended with Fred begrudgingly accepting his brother's suggestion, whatever it was. They gathered their composure and walked back to the counter where Harry hadn't moved at all.

"We'll help you Harry," they said together with a smile.

Harry paused until he monotonously said, "I'm fine. I don't need any help…really."

"No Harry," said Fred, "We can help you."

"Especially with your problem with….Hermione," said George putting a specific but innocent emphasis on the last part.

Harry ripped off the towel to see the twins wearing huge grins. He was speechless; he felt his stomach had vacated his body through his mouth. He felt his pulse rise and his neck tense up. He knew that they weren't assuming anything. They wore the faces of people who were completely sure of themselves. Those sneaky bastards.

"Wow Harry, that's the most we seen your face move all week," said Fred plainly.

"Be careful now Harry," warned George. "You might cramp your face if you keep that up any longer. Oh wait now, is that a crack I see in your cheek there?"

Harry just stared at them, as if completely puzzled by the two people standing in front of him. Slowly but surely and with a slight hint of venom he said, "How did you find out?"

"Come off it Harry," said George. "We may be jokers, but we're not stupid."

"Give us some credit," continued Fred. "We saw your face before you became…like this. It was like you were looking at a Veela photo album."

"Besides…we read your letters."

"WHAT?!" exclaimed Harry.

"It was a real bugger putting together that first one…you know the one all ripped up and such," said Fred as if reminiscing a particularly troublesome night.

"Yeah, the first time around it look like you were asking Hagrid for some threstrals for a carriage ride. But through perseverance…"

"As we are always known for," interjected Fred.

"…we read that heartfelt apology. And by Merlin…any girl would have accepted that apology."

"Ah my fellow twin," said Fred. "Hermione's not just any girl. And if Harry's going to win her back, we're going to have to help him out."

"Just wait a second!" interrupted Harry. He was feeling violated, angry, slightly hysterical and above all else confused. The Twins were moving so fast, he has yet to catch up. He took a calming breath and exhaled sharply. "I can handle this myself."

Fred and George looked at each other as if they've seen something very odd. They walked behind the counter and stood beside him, one twin for each side. They put their arms over his shoulders as if consoling a comrade in arms.

"Harry…Harry," started Fred in a fairly patronizing tone. Harry was quite used to this tone before, having heard them talk to Ron this way on countless occasions. "Don't get us wrong Harry, we like you. But you've a been a bit clumsy when it comes to the girls."

"Like a giant walking down Diagon Alley," said George.

"Or like Hagrid walking down Diagon Alley," added Fred.

"Same thing."

"Is not."

"Ok...OK!" said Harry, getting quite tired of being a telephone between them. "I get the idea. But I think…"

"Harry," stopped George. "You've been going about this all wrong. You can't just plow head on with the problem with the girl. They are complex creatures…an enigma wrapped in a puzzle…locked in…uh…an enigma."

"You have to be more subtle Harry," said Fred patting him on the shoulder. "You have to give her want she wants…but in reality you are getting what you want as well."

"So you want me to trick her?" replied Harry, looking clearly disgusted.

"No, not trick," said George. "Woo…you have to woo her Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. There was something especially wrong when the Weasley Twins are talking about the art of courtship. What he wouldn't give to turn invisible right now and escape them, but a twinge of desperation kept him firmly planted in the grip of the Twins advice session. How he wished a customer would walk in the shop right now.

"Alright," sighed Harry, admitting defeat. "So are you going to teach me how to 'woo'?"

"We got something better," said Fred, winking at his brother.

"We've got a plan," said George with a great smile as he slapped Harry on the shoulder.

A customer just came through the door as the Twins laughed, filling the store with their echoes. The Twins continued to laugh as one of them served the customer and the other went into the back to work on more projects. Harry dried himself off and began to reconsider what he gotten himself into.

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Three days later, Harry found himself back in the shop nearly closing time. As per the Twins' request he wore his dress robes. He felt a bit silly wearing them considering that they were the same dress robes that Hermione saw him at the reunion, but since it's been so long Harry was hoping she forgot how he looked that night. Fred was counting something on the counter, and every time Harry tried to walk over to talk to him or even see what he was doing; Fred would just pause and cover up his work. As each minute passed Harry, his doubts grew and grew. He was thinking of just rushing out the door and taking his broomstick to fly off away from it all.

"How much longer?" said Harry.

"Patience Harry. A good plan needs patience," said Fred not looking at him. He continued counting something.

"Tell me an estimate at least. Half an hour? Twenty minutes?"

"When George gets back," said Fred hoping to ending the questions.

Harry looked at him, expecting more answers. When it was clear Fred was too engrossed in his current task, Harry paced on the floor. "Well at least tell me why I'm doing here…in my dress robes. They are getting cramp," complained Harry. He felt his collar becoming like a noose.

"Well isn't it obvious? You're going to meet Hermione here," said Fred looking a bit disappointed at Harry's deduction skills.

"What?" shouted Harry, "You're bringing her here? Why?"

Fred looked a bit scared at Harry being anxious. He started to pace more around the floor, fixing his hair, straightening out his robes. Harry nearly jumped at him at the counter repeating his questions.

"I know this isn't the most romantic of places," said Fred.

"It's a JOKE shop!" shouted Harry as in an effort to show the obvious to Fred.

"But it'll get better…trust us."

Harry growled pacing back to the center of the shop. He could leave now, Hermione wouldn't even know he was here. He could leave and attempt to talk to her again at a later time. Sweat was beginning to form on his brow.

"Harry," said Fred in an effort to calm him down. "In order for this plan to work you have to let us do our job. Everything is taken care of."

"Well at least tell me what you are going to do!" he demanded.

"I can't," declined Fred. "In order for it to look genuine, you have to know as little as possible Harry. It's on a need to know basis."

"But I need to know Fred," said Harry. "I'm the one you're trying to help here."

"Listen Harry…we can't have..Oh wait here comes George now."

A big head of bushy brown hair appeared through the door first. Hermione was wearing a powder blue dress, looking incredibly gorgeous and very disgruntled. George followed behind her, trying to calm her down.

"Really George," said Hermione in an exasperated voice. "Don't ever ask me to do that again. Do you know how hard it is to apparate with dress robes? And why did we have to appear on the roof? I know there are werewolf detectors in Diagon Alley, but there are other ways of getting around them. I still don't understand why you need me in dress robes to help you out with your storm thin…."

Hermione stopped in her tracks when she saw Harry. There was a great sense of tension in the air, so thick that the Twins felt they were being choked by it. George slammed the door, snapping the two out of their stares.

"How….What is he…why is he dressed?" sputtered Hermione, but after a long thought provoking pause her eyes narrowed and she glared at George, then at Fred.

"You…you two," she growled. She started to walk out, but George blocked her way. He wisely looked up observing some Wildfire Whiz-bangs to see if they were properly stored on the shelves. Had he hesitated he'd probably struck dead by the gaze that Hermione had locked onto him.

"Now come on Hermione, why don't you and Harry kiss and make up. He's been missing you…a lot. All he does is talk about you," proclaimed Fred.

"No I did not! Hermione thi…this wasn't m..my plan," stuttered Harry, holding his hands up.

"And you…of all people I would have never…" started Hermione as she turned around to face Harry. But something stopped her dead in her tracks. In fact something stopped Harry from even trying to apologize. A great stink emanated from the floor causing them to almost gag.

"Whoops!" shouted Fred over the coughing. "Damn these dungbomb cases! They are so flimsy during transport!"

Fred looked over to George and nodded at him. George quickly took out his wand and tapped the doorknob just as Hermione ran over to try and open it. She struggled a bit and then yelled something at George through her sleeved arm.

"What's that Hermione? I can't quite hear you," said George between coughs.

"Get this door open!" she shouted as she removed her arm for a second.

George half-heartedly tried jiggling the latch. "Oh dear," he said in a concerned voice. "Its done it again. Must've happened when I slammed it. The door is sticky that way, I've always asked Fred to fix the darn thing."

Hermione didn't listen as she was coughing from the stink, her eyes watering. Harry was trying to look for her with teary eyes but he grabbed onto Fred. Fred steered him towards Hermione in which Harry crashed into her, falling into a pile on the ground.

"Alright, everyone out the back entrance!" shouted Fred.

"Come on you two, now is not the time to be fooling around," said George as he helped them up by the arms.

He guided them through the green cloud of stink. As they exited the back door, they nearly lost their breath at the sight of Fred in a gas mask.

"Pretty neat eh?" said Fred behind the mask, making his voice sound hollow. "Just imagine that muggles wore these when there's gas around."

"Alright stand back now," commanded George as he took out his wand and tapped it two times on the back door. The door shone silver for a brief second and then returned back to its normal colour. Harry and Hermione were trying to catch their breath, still coughing from the smell.

George, looking very pleased with himself, started to say, "Ok now that we've gotten it all sealed up we can…oh dear."

Evidentially the sealing spell was not as good as George imagined. The same stinging smell started to fill the back alley. It was even worst because it was so cramp.

"You know Fred was always better that this than I ever was," said George with a sort of nervous smile.

"Come with us then," said George, "let's get down the alley here. Not that far, I'm sure we'll get out of range soon enough."

They walked down the dark alley, carefully avoiding trash bins and stray cats out for their late night dinner. Everytime when the seemed to have made just out of range of the dungbomb smell, just as they could breathe in fresh air, it seemed to have caught up with them and filled their current position. They probably passed five stores by now. Harry tried his best to shield Hermione, but who can really shield someone from stink? The twins lead them further down the alley until Fred stopped.

"Whoops, end of the line folks. We can't progress any further," announced Fred.

Harry and Hermione were about walk past him to see what the problem was when George pushed them into an open doorway.

"Quick in here! It's safe!" hissed George.

Harry and Hermione didn't argue at all, desperate for clean air. They walked into nearly blinded by torches that hung near the wall. They heard Fred and George come in behind them, shutting the doorway. When their eyes adjusted, they felt themselves being lead a few steps away from the door and plopped unceremoniously onto chairs. Harry blinked, trying to see what was around him when he felt something thrusted into his hands. He blinked some more, trying to get black spots out of his vision and when finally his eyes and his nose cleared, he saw he was holding a menu.

He looked across the table and Hermione was staring at one as well. He looked around and there in a small alcove off from the main dining area they were in a restaurant, looking quite busy from the waiters zigzagging back and forth between tables and patrons. A broom lazily floated in the air with a basket of bread handing off it. The diners were buzzing with discussion, busy with their own food.

"Would you like to see the wine menu sir?" said Fred, who now apparently discarded his own robes for waiter robes. "I recommend the 867 Elf Wine, very good year."

"What is this?" scowled Hermione with a glare so deadly, Harry was surprised that Fred didn't turn into stone.

"Oh I'm sorry madam," said Fred in a very official manner. "My name is Fred and this is my brother George…we'll be your waiters for tonight."

He nodded towards the back where George was standing guard over the door. He was just the in the process of nudging the last of his robes into a dark corner and straightening out his waiter's uniform.

"This is subtle?" shouted Harry, not caring if anyone saw him.

"Well you got to admit Harry…it was a pretty brilliant plan," said Fred proudly.

"I knew it," said Hermione, slamming the menu on the table. "I knew it was you Harry. I gave George the benefit the doubt, trusting him that it was your day off today, but I knew something was up when he asked me to get into some nice dress robes."

"Hey now," protested Fred. "Don't let Harry take all the credit. I mean it was our plan after all. No offense Harry, but he couldn't have thought of anything as brilliant as this."

"Brilliant? Nearly choking us to death?" said Harry looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Well you're still here aren't you?" said Fred as if expecting an apology…or an award. "Look, don't think we didn't make any sacrifices. We wasted some perfectly good dungbombs, all in the name of getting you two back together. Which reminds me."

Fred snapped his fingers in the air over to George. George nodded, opened the door and tossed out what seemed to be an entire sack of dungbombs. A slight rumble shook the floor and thus George quickly closed the door and used the sealing charm. This time the charm did served it's purposely flawlessly. He nodded back to Fred.

"George was always better at sealing charms," said Fred with a wink. "But a few well placed dungbombs in the alleyway could make it seem otherwise."

Hermione stood up from the table and growled at Fred. She started to walk towards George taking out her wand.

"Get out of my way George or I swear I will…"

"Can't go back through that way Hermione, the shop is going to stink for a solid week!" said George.

Hermione scowled and walked back towards the table. She walked past Harry not even looking at him and was about to exit when Fred stepped in her way.

"I wouldn't go that way either Hermione," warned Fred. "Unless you want to disrupt the diners. You're not…exactly smelling like roses right now."

Fred had a very nervous face. Hermione sniffed once at her sleeve and recoiled from the residual stench. Harry noticed this as well with his suit. He began to wonder how more wrong this night could be.

"Fine…I'll take my chances with the dungbombs," said Hermione with uttermost restraint.

"I wouldn't do that either," said Fred. He looked over Hermione's head and snapped his fingers at George again.

George nodded. He reached into his robes and pulled out what looked like three pieces of grey lint or cotton candy. Harry and Hermione looked on at the peculiar scene as George pulled out what seemed to be a small red ribbon out from the center of each of the grey fluffs. Quickly he unsealed the door, opened it and tossed the three things outside. A rumble sounded, louder than even the bag of dungbombs going off. George sealed the doorway just as a pitter-patter could be heard outside, spreading along the ceiling. George got back up, straightened out his uniform and nodded back to his brother.

Hermione looked at Fred with wide eyes.

"It's raining tonight," said Fred. George gave Harry a wink and a thumbs up. "And you don't want to go out while our Pocket Storms are in the middle of a test, you'd ruin the results of our observations."

Harry was shaking his head. He could see that Hermione was nearly boiling point if it wasn't already past it. He saw the incredibly sense of betrayal in her eyes. Moreso he seemed to imagine that she's angrier that she could have possibly hoodwinked by these two.

"ARGH!" yelled Hermione as she walked towards the door. The dining room discussion died down a bit as a few patrons craned their heads to see what was going on.

George stepped in front of her but Hermione jabbed her wand up into his chin.

"Hermione NO!" shouted Harry as he jumped up from his chair. Fred grabbed his shoulder stopping him and forcing him back into the chair.

"Now Hermione, we're all adults here. We should stay reasonable now," said George with as much calm as he could muster.

"You…," hissed Hermione.

"Now Hermione…please," said Fred calmly as he handed Harry the wine list. "All we are asking is for a moment of your time. I mean here you are all dressed up and nowhere to go. I mean tonight you could have a nice reconciliatory dinner with Harry; or you could go back to the shop and ruin that nice dress you have on right now."

"I heard that blue dresses tend to attract lightening more. Read that in Dress Robes Weekly one time," whispered George, keeping his eyes carefully focused on the wand in his jugular. As if by cue, a giant rumble of thunder sounded through the door and swept through the dining area.

"Please Hermione," said Fred bringing her chair out. "We went through a lot of trouble to set this up. The owner reserved this area as a favor to us. Plus you are disturbing the patrons."

For the first time Harry and Hermione realized that a few amount of tables were looking over at what the commotion was all about. Hermione's anger turned to slight embarrassment until she took down her wand. She begrudgingly took her seat and George glad to have his neck back intact did a small hop of joy to help set up the table.

"See?" nudged Fred. "Subtle."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Like a bludger."

The dinnerware was set before them and candles were lit. It was a fairly romantic scene was it not for the death glares emanating from Hermione.

"Would you like to hear the specials for tonight?" said George very officially. "I recommend the eye of newt soup. It's been double boiled for that extra flavour."

"No…cough…I don't think I could really eat anything right now," said Harry still lightheaded from his stench.

"Oh silly us, how could we forget?" said George. "Fred?"

Fred nodded and took out what seemed to be a perfume spray bottle. He spritzted a cloud full of blue mist above Harry's and Hermione's heads. They coughed, the mist smelling almost as bad as the dungbomb.

"What is that for?" protested Hermione, trying to swat the mist away from her.

George on the other hand was below them, sweeping up what seemed like small black rocks under their feet. They saw more appear and noticed they were dropping from the air.

"It's Smell-o-way," said Fred. "It solidifies stench particles and makes them into completely odorless pellets."

Just as Harry and Hermione was about to protest, they stopped and actually didn't feel faint anymore. The smell was gone. Fred looked on enthusiastically and asked if they wanted to order anything. Harry and Hermione looked at each other for a brief moment when they decided the menu seemed more important. They ordered their dishes and waited awkwardly at the table. Fred and George seemed to have given them some alone time. Hermione was often seen eyeing the door, while Harry looked off into the dining area.

After a few tense moments and multiple refilled glasses of water later, Harry broke the silence. "You look nice tonight."

Hermione just scoffed, not looking at Harry. The tension began to build again and when it was near the point of being unbearable something had to be done.

"Hermione, I'm…"

"What was so important that you had to get Fred and George to trick me to come here?"

"It wasn't my plan," protested Harry. "But I need to talk to you Hermione. It does concern both of us."

"Well then spit it out," she demanded.

Harry steadied himself, trying to subdue the anger slowly boiling in him. Her stubbornness didn't help with the situation. Finally after a calming breath Harry said precisely, "Kain and Renoir are working together. Your boss and my boss are planning to do something."

Hermione looked slighted. She expected something regarding their relationship, but the comment slowly sunk in. She then saw that Harry was dead serious and looked at him for the first time without malice.

"Your steak sir…extra rare," said Fred.

"And your steak madam…er…extra rare," said George.

Harry and Hermione gave a look at them that the Twins translated to bugger off. They walked of laughing and congratulating each other. After they were out of ear range they focused back on each other.

"Of course they work together, they are the one of the highest dignitaries between our two races!" said Hermione obviously.

"This wasn't about the progression of peace between vampires and werewolves," said Harry. "They were plotting something. Something about taking over reigns of power."

"Do you know what you're implying?" whispered Hermione, looking around to see if anyone heard.

"That our bosses who hate each other are working together for their own gain? Yes I think I figured that much by myself thank you very much."

Harry proceeded to explain what happened in the broom closet after their talk a month ago. Hermione seemed attentive, but has yet to suspend her disbelief during the whole story. Yet something in her eyes hinted at Harry that she wanted to believe, but something was holding her back.

"That's just silly. If this is the only thing you wanted to talk to me about, I'm sorry. It's just a veiled attempt to get me to see you."

"Hermione, why won't you believe me?" said Harry. He didn't notice that he actually put his hand onto hers.

Hermione paused. She saw Harry touch her hand, but didn't try to swat it off or pull hers back. She looked up at him with calculating glances unable to look at him straight in the eye for longer than a moment.

"It's just," said Hermione, "they could be talking about anything Harry. You know they are next in line to rule each of our respective groups. Perhaps they just want things to run smoothly."

"They were at each other's throats," he reminded.

"I admit, they aren't the on the most best of terms. But it's the best they have now don't they? It just seems…so…."

Hermione looked up at him with sheepish eyes. Harry seemed more interested in talking to his steak than with her. He wondered why she changed so much, why so long ago back at Hogwarts she would believe almost any outrageous plot out to get him. The restaurant rumbled from the thunder, shaking the dishware a bit. He couldn't convince her, not with what he had, not anymore. He didn't know how, but just like Hermione had read his thoughts she put her napkin onto the table.

"Is that all you needed to tell me Harry?" Hermione asked with hopeful eyes, like she was expecting something else.

"Yes…that's all," said Harry quietly. At least the night ended without total chaos.

"Well then I'll just have to…oh my goodness!"

Harry looked up to see a brown blur of hair disappear under the table. The clatter of dishware attracted the attention of nearby diners who deemed it a bit rude for so much noise being made. Harry looked under the table to see Hermione huddled by the legs.

"What is it?" hissed Harry.

"Renoir, your boss! He's here!" squealed Hermione.

"What?!"

Harry sat back up and looked over at the entrance. There was Renoir looking as pompous as usual and sulking right beside him was Kain. Renoir very displeased as if dining here was beneath him; he looked very disgruntled with the Maitre D. Kain on seemed equally displeased, but probably more due to the absurdity of completely cooked food. Harry felt a sharp pinch on his leg and returned under the table.

"What are you doing? Don't look at him, he might see you!" said Hermione.

"Kain's with him!" said Harry.

"What?"

"Kain, your boss is with him!"

"I know! But he said he was off on business in Paris this week. He's not supposed to be here," said Hermione.

"See?!" hissed Harry. "I told you. They are up to something!"

Hermione didn't care, "Quick, you better get out of here before they see you!"

Harry got up to head out the alcove until he heard something that would freeze him to the bone.

"Harry!" shouted Renoir from halfway across the dining room.

"Too late," he said to Hermione under the table.

Harry sat back down and casually waved over to Renoir. He seemed more happier after sighting Harry. Kain looked more disgruntled because he was following in tow.

"What do we do? He's coming over," said Harry through gritted teeth, still waving.

"I don't know!" hissed Hermione, who was getting fidgety under the table.

Harry looked for options around the room. The door was still sealed, but that wasn't so much the problem; it was the dungbombs. Worst all, it sounded like a thunderstorm outside. Harry contemplated spending a dinner with Renoir or getting electrocuted to death in the back alley. For some reason the latter seemed to be a more logical and merciful choice until Hermione jabbed him in the leg.

"Harry. Call Fred and George over! Maybe they can help!" whispered Hermione.

Harry quickly looked over and saw Fred and George talking with the owner a young lady who seemed to have caught both pairs of eyes. He signaled for them. George saw it first and they quickly came over. They looked a bit surprise seeing Harry all alone.

"Wha happened?" asked Fred looking very disappointed as if the plan had gone sour. "She didn't leave did she?"

"No she…" started Harry.

"Well she went off to powder her nose then," interrupted George. "Bloody girls you could never…OUCH!"

George looked down to see Hermione having jabbed him with her wand, "Quick you have to do something. Renoir and my boss are coming over. They can't see me here!"

George looked a bit puzzled but picked up on the situation nevertheless. Fred joined his brother and developed a small on the spot plan. They nodded and Fred was off, blocking off the entrance to the alcove. Renoir was taken aback a bit as was Kain by the sudden obstacle in their path.

"Excuse me," said Renoir with certain disdain. "I know Harry Potter. He's a close personal friend."

"Sorry sir," said Fred. "A lot of people say they know Harry Potter. But we really respect his privacy."

George was making a slight ruckus under the table.

"What are you doing?!" whispered Hermione.

"Just give me that hair pin!" demanded George.

"Harry," said Renoir smoothly. "You don't mind if we join you do you?"

Harry could feel Renoir's will being bent upon him. He waved off Fred who let him and Kain pass into the alcove. Harry got up and bowed, and Renoir laughed again asking it wasn't necessary. Fred came by soon enough with two more chairs where Renoir and Kain seated themselves accordingly.

"Well Harry, I didn't quite expect to see you here tonight," said Renoir with a slight bit of curiosity.

"Well you know me…full of unexpected surprises," said Harry nervously laughing.

"Yes…Oh I don't think you've been introduced properly. Harry, this is Kain from the werewolf clan. Kain…this is Harry Potter," said Renoir proudly. He made sure Kain heard the last part clearly.

"It's quite the…opportunity…meeting you Harry Potter," said Kain as he looked over Harry the exact same way he was sizing up Renoir that night in the broom closet. Harry shook his hand which was as tight as a vice.

"Harry I think I saw you with someone here tonight," inquired Renoir with even more curiosity.

"Oh yes…she's just powd…."

"Dropped her fork," said George from the other side of the table giving Renoir and Kain a start. "Yes madam just had some trouble finding it under the table.

Hermione stood up facing away from the table. Her big bushy brown head of hair bobbing slightly and catching the eye of Renoir.

"Madam, have we ever met?" asked Renoir as he stood to take her hand to kiss it. "I normally don't forget…a…….face."

Renoir paused mid bow. Hermione slowly turned around but she might as well not have. Her bushy brown hair had been pulled over her entire face, making her look like a giant fuzzy upside-down ice cream cone. She looked a bit awkward as she turned, using her other hand reaching for empty air. She struggled to maintain some semblance of grace as she let Renoir finish kissing her hand but any interest in her identity seemed to have disappeared if only for a while. Fred was trying to keep from bursting into laughter. Harry glared at George with a look that questioned the redhead's very sanity and George just shrugged his shoulders as if saying that's the best he could do. Renoir guided Hermione back down to her seat, this time sitting right between Renoir and Harry. She nearly fell off her chair. After a bit of stabilizing she was sitting straight again.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced," said Renoir eyeing Harry.

"Oh! Renoir, Kain…this is my date…uh friend. Angelina Johnson," he said.

Kain rose from his seat and bowed. Hermione randomly nodded her head around the table making sure she didn't miss anyone. Her hair bobbed like a giant balloon.

"That is quite the…interesting hairstyle you have Madam Johnson," said Renoir.

Hermione pretended she did not hear. Harry elbowed her in the rib.

"Oh yes…it's all the rage in Bulgaria," said Hermione.

"Ah yes, I see," contemplated Renoir. "I'm afraid I'm not quite up to date with the latest styles. You could say that I haven't aged well with the times."

Renoir smiled his fangy smile towards Kain who just glowered. He too was paying attention to Hermione, trying to remember where he saw her.

"I dare say, Harry…what brings you out so early in the evening? Are you trying to recruit this fine specimen into our country club?" asked Renoir.

"Er…yes. Master," replied Harry on the spot. "We're going out later this evening."

"Excellent Harry," praised Renoir, clapping and smiling. "You've really progressed the past few months. I am impressed. I dare say, soon enough you'll be having my job."

Renoir grinned at Kain who didn't return anything but utter contempt for his boldness. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Here's your soup sir and madam," said Fred as he bustled into the alcove with George.

"But we didn't order," started Harry.

"Compliments of the chef," said George. "It comes highly recommended."

"Oh then I'll order one as well," said Renoir.

Harry accepted the soup and placed Hermione's serving in front of her. She grabbed a fork and tried to navigate the fork under her curtain of hair. Harry held out a spoon when Hermione realized her mistake which she took after a few failed attempts resulting in her grabbing thin air.

"Will you be eating that steak then Harry?" asked Renoir.

Harry offered it to Renoir who accepted it and began to eat it graciously. Kain on the other hand just reached over to Hermione's portion and grabbed the steak, taking long strips off it with his teeth. They truly were as different as night and day. Hermione enjoyed her soup, well at least as much as she can, considering that each spoonful resulted in a portion of her hair accompanying it. Apparently it was too much and she actually coughed, shaking the hairpin that kept her hair all together in the front, right into the soup. Her hair parted showing a bit of her face. Renoir's interest piqued again and Hermione froze as he began to raise a hand to part her hair further.

"Now, let's see what beauty is being hidden behind this hair," said Renoir silkily.

Harry considered ways to prevent this from happening, all of them resulting in his and her's immediate death. Kain seemed to have paused in mid bit on the steak, also curious as to the identity of Hermione. Harry saw her grip her wand from under the table, but he stayed her arm. There was no need to escalate the situation until absolutely necessary. Just as Renoir was about to part the hair all the way a great shadow descended upon the table. A great crash and a bang later, Fred was splayed on to the table with George looking over Hermione. They had spilled soup all over Renoir.

"You clumsy oaf!" yelled Renoir as he tried wiping newt eyes off his shirt. Kain looked in complete amusement, the steak wagging from his mouth. Fred got up trying to help and apologized profusely but his hand was swatted away. George was busy helping up Hermione.

"Blasted eyes!" said Renoir as he continued to pat dry his shirt, he looked up towards Hermione who had a small spot of soup on her dress. "I'm quite sorry madam, it seems that the waiters here are…"

Renoir paused again. This time he was even more in shock than before. Even Kain stopped laughing only to stare at Hermione. Hermione's hair was out of the way of her face. It was also out of the way of her black horn-rimmed glasses, her huge bulbous wart covered nose and a giant puffy red moustache. She looked a bit perplexed at the people staring at her. Harry felt a flood of panic wash into his head. Fred and George were giving winks from across the table.

Renoir looked away immediately after he saw that Hermione was looking right at him. He continued to dry himself nervously with a forced smile.

"I'm sorry madam, it was rude of me to stare," apologize Renoir. Kain on the other hand had his steak drop right into his lap. His mouth was agape, staring at Hermione's face.

"Yes…I mean…," stuttered Hermione. "My family was cursed by a gypsy witch long ago. Everyone since then, my family had to bear this burden."

"Yes!" said Fred. "According to legend the oldest child gets the bulbous nose"

He gave Hermione a pinch on the nose in which she yelped in real pain.

"And the youngest child gets big red moustache!" continued George.

Renoir seemed to have accepted this explanation, but it was more due to avoid the unbearable sight of Hermione's face than the reasons behind it.

"Why is it then that Ms. Johnson has both of these curses?" asked Kain.

Fred and George froze in their tracks. They never quite thought that far ahead. Harry, with his wand ready under the table, was sweating bullets. This is it; there was no way out of this time. At least he'll die with friends at his side.

"It's because I'm an only child," replied Hermione with a slight shudder in her voice.

Kain looked a bit taken aback. He resumed eating his steak. Renoir sat down after the table seemed to have been reset. Harry sighed a quiet breath of relief as he stood up.

"I'm sorry master, but we have to be going," said Harry with a small bow.

"Very good Harry," said Renoir with slight apprehension as he looked at Hermione again. He seemed to want to take back his suggestion of making her part of the vampire camp.

Harry and Hermione walked off very quickly but only stopped a few feet away from the alcove making sure that they were out of eyesight.

"What is this?" hissed Hermione, as the patrons stared at her. A few of them pushed away their plates, apparently they had lost their appetite.

"It's a new product we're testing," chuckled Fred.

"Percy Specs!" laughed George.

"Yeah, you put on the glasses and the nose and moustache actually become your real nose and a real moustache!" explained Fred between giggles.

Even Harry found some slight humour in this situation as Hermione tried to pull the glasses off.

"Why won't these," struggled Hermione. "Blasted things come off?"

"Well we did say it we were still testing them," said George.

"Yeah…it's taking them off that has been the problem," said Fred.

Hermione groaned. The Twins assured her that they could go back to the shop to take them off, but Hermione was considering putting her hair in front of her face again. Harry watching this amusing scene suddenly got an idea.

"Fred…George," said Harry. "Do you have any extendable ears on you?"

"Never leave home without them," said Fred as he brought out two.

Harry took out and thrusted another into Hermione's hand. Slowly they crept up near the entrance of the alcove until they were barely out of sight of Renoir and Kain. Harry pointed at her to use the extendable ears on their conversation. The flesh coloured string wriggled along the floor, near the entrance and just like a telephone they could hear the conversation.

"… don't care. You just have that ready next month," growled Renoir.

"Just make sure you are ready with the silver. We only have one shot at this," said Kain in a deadly voice. "If I get caught, I'm making sure you are coming with me."

"We won't get caught," said Renoir reassuringly "By this time next month we'll be lords of our empires, empires that will reach past the horizons of the world."

They heard Renoir laugh, which sent shivers down their ears.

"Now enough of this," said Renoir. "We've aroused enough suspicion. Even Potter sighting us here could compromise us. Let us use the back door to leave."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other wide eyed. Quickly they leapt up and ran back, grabbed the Twins with extendable ears in tow.

"Hey now, what's with the rush?" questioned Fred.

"Yeah…did you find out anything?" said George.

"Not now…have to leave. Right now," said Harry forcefully.

They were feet away from the front door when suddenly they heard a blood curdling scream from the back of the restaurant. Like a wave the cries, that only a bagful of dungbombs could produce, began to wash over the restaurant. Clueless waiters asked patrons what was going on, or tried to calmly direct them to the exits, expecting that there was a fire of some sort. However when they too smelled the noxious gas, all pleasantries were abandoned and they joined the stampede for fresh air.

Harry, Hermione and the Twins were already outside watching the front doors burst full of patrons. The Pocket Storms had dissipated a bit, becoming a nice mild rain. This of course was very peculiar considering that it was in the middle of winter, which caused the streets of Diagon Alley to be a solid sheet of ice. As diners tried to catch their breath, a lot of them slipped and ended up sprawled on the cold road. It looked like a penguin party gone wrong.

Fred laughed but he was the only one. Harry and Hermione gave them a disapproving look, but it was more due to what they learned from the conversation. Fred however looked a bit more angry.

"What? It's funny!" said Fred with a slightly puzzled but jovial look

"You know we can't eat here anymore you git!" said Fred looking very disappointed. He looked up to the sign of the restaurant, even the magical moving picture of the sign was wretching from the smell. "I really loved their blood pudding. It was the best in town."

"Aw don't worry. We'll just lie low for a while," said Fred with a consoling pat on the back.

"But I really love their blood pudding," whined George.

Harry and Hermione were a bit preoccupied with their recent discovery.

"Harry this is big. Very big," said Hermione.

"That's why I've been trying to tell you!" said Harry feeling a bit vindicated.

Hermione looked at Harry with apologetic eyes, "Oh Harry, you were right. I'm so sorry."

She leant forward to give him a kiss when Harry stopped her. She gave him a surprised look and asked what was wrong.

"Uh…your face," said Harry apprehensively.

Hermione raised her hand, and accidentally touched her wart covered nose. She was still wearing the Percy Specs.

"Oh…," said Hermione with a disappointed air.

"You better get out of here Harry," suggested Fred. "You're boss is probably going to be coming out of there any second now."

"And we have to get Hermione back to the shop to get the Specs off," said George.

The Twins began to walk down the street as casual as possible and careful as possible because of the ice. Hermione looked torn in where to go, and with a small sigh she quickly went over to Harry and gave him a small peck on the cheek. Harry closed his eyes, trying to avoid the image of a moustached nose kissing him on the cheek. Regardless of his attempts to block the image out of his mind, it felt like an orange toothbrush was scrubbing his cheek clean.

"I'll keep in touch Harry," said Hermione with a small smile. With a few steps she disappeared down the street trying to catch up with Fred and George.

Harry felt slightly relieved as he watched Hermione disappear into the dark. She believed him again and now he had an important ally. An ally in what, he does not know, but the creeping feeling of adventure stir in his stomach again. As much as he disliked his fame and the trouble usually associated with it, he never felt so alive in such a long time.

A great argument erupted in front of the restaurant, which was quickly silenced as Kain told Renoir to not attract any attention. Harry snapped out of his euphoria, and realizing the severity of the situation he jumped, landing on the roof of a nearby shop just as Renoir started to scan the streets to see if anyone he knew was in the area. It was a close call, as Harry looked down. Renoir looked more disheveled than Harry has ever seen him. He smiled, reflecting on how well a disastrous night could end and with a crack Harry disapparated from the roof.