Unofficial Portkey Archive

Thanks to Marinka for beta reading!

Chapter One:

Ginny groaned as the 'error: 404' popped up on her computer screen once again. The gray box blinked menacingly at her, taunting her for her lack of technological intelligence. Refraining from clenching her fingers around the mouse, she moved the cursor over the `OK' button and rapidly depressed the right side repeatedly. It only took seconds for the box to pop back up, and her teeth continued to clench and grind harder with every warning `ding' the computer made.

"Damn it!" Her left hand slammed against the glossy smooth tan desk. She glared angrily as the dull sting in her hand throbbed towards her wrist. She was somewhat grateful the pain took her attention away from the real problem, even if it was only for a moment. She inhaled through her nose, letting the air fill her lungs, hoping breaths would calm her. But when she tried it again, the tenth attempt brought the same results.

She gritted her teeth and swiveled her black twirling chair to the side. Reaching forward, she yanked the drawer open. It was her supply drawer for work, filled with rubber bands, tacks, and paper clips. The pens and pencils scattered inside rolled forwards as she pushed them around searching.

So intent on trying to find what she was looking for, she failed to notice Fred, smugly sauntering up behind her. He paused next to her desk, cocking his head to the side and propping his hip against the corner of the brown filing cabinet just beside her.

"What the devil are you doing?" His question was serious, but she knew him well enough to hear the subtle teasing behind the words.

"I'm looking for my wand."

"Why? You know magic doesn't respond well in here."

`In here' was essentially the office where Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes kept client information and recipes for the already established Wheezes and tricks. It also included monthly bills, payroll for employees, and requests random customers sent in, hoping the boys would put into action his or her invention. Yes, they even had an inventing department that would help people patent their idea and produce it. As it turns out, when Malfoy did something, he did it right.

The corner of her mouth rose into a sneer as the taste of disgust burned her nose and spilled onto her tongue. She never knew disgust had a taste until she'd started working with Malfoy. It's kind of a mixture of sulfur, sweet whipping cream, and cigarette ashes.

"Will you answer me?" he asked.

Heaving a sigh she paused, letting the wrist of her hand rest against the cold metal of the drawer as she glanced up. "So I can blast this thing to smithereens," she said, gesturing wildly to the computer. "I've never used Avada Kedavra on a living thing, but I expect the rules don't apply to non-living things. I'm fairly certain it will work just fine too."

Fred raised an amused eyebrow, his arms folded causally over his arms, his right ankle crossed over his left as he continued to lean on the filing cabinet. "I don't think Draco would take to that."

"Sodding git," she mumbled, not knowing who the name was directed at, her brother or Malfoy. "I don't understand why Malfoy integrated computers into our world." The complaint rolled off her tongue as she rolled away from her desk, slouching into the cradle of cushiony chair. She reached forward, furiously punching her index finger onto the enter button only to have the machine beep at her once more.

Clucking her tongue with irritation she yanked her hand back as if she'd been scalded, and settled it against her waist, but not before letting the machine have one more scowl. The evil beast…

"Draco said it's more efficient and from what I've learned I have to agree with him."

"Efficient schmicient. You should have never agreed to make him a stock holder. If you hadn't done that…"

Fred tensed, but cut her off, swiping a hand through the air swiftly, before she could continue. "It was an investment we couldn't refuse. You know that. So while I'm willing to let you complain about other things, I won't let that be it." His voice was no longer playful.

Ginny pouted. She'd mentioned it knowing it was a touchy subject, but she was just so frustrated, and when she didn't say anything right away, Fred felt the need to continue on how Draco Malfoy saved WWW.

"That hefty chunk of money from Harry only helped us start. Our money combined was barely enough to get supplies. We couldn't even pay you!"

"And you were too proud to ask Harry for more," she said, mumbling like a brat. She knew it, but she wasn't about to stop either. "He would've done it. He's almost as rich as Malfoy."

"Ginny," he said, scolding her like she was a babe. "Harry is family, and we already felt guilty enough munching at Mum's because we couldn't afford a flat payment and food. The business hadn't taken off as quick as we'd have liked because we couldn't manage enough money for any type of advertisement-"

"Harry is not technically family."

Fred rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. Can we change the subject? I was in a good mood when I came over here, now I feel like I have to defend why you still get a paycheck."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. Point taken. Still… "It's sad we couldn't swallow our pride and ask a friend versus an enemy."

Fred pursed his lips together and shook his head, his shoulders lifting into a shrug. "Eh, enemy's a strong word."

Feeling fully righteous, because `enemy' was indeed the right word, Ginny lifted her head and promptly folded her arms across her chest, raising her chin, and sticking out her nose as she spewed her response. "Yeah well, you didn't get the brunt of his immaturities in school."

Fred frowned at her response before letting out a tiny snort. "You're right, but neither did you. As I recall that was you're other favorite brother Ron and his lackeys."

Ginny's brow furrowed with defeat. "Well, technically Ron and Hermione were Harry's lackeys." It was more of an after thought spoken allowed before she had an `ah-ha' moment and spoke again. "I Bat-Boogey Hexed him! Malfoy, I mean." She nodded with triumphant glee.

Fred's smile was slow as it teased the corners of his mouth upwards. With a roll of his eyes, another shake of his head, he responded. "It sounds like he got the brunt of your wildness in school."

Ginny gave a half shrug and leaned forward to place her elbows dead center on her desk. Resting her chin in her palm, she puffed out her breath, letting her carrot red hair flutter around the side of her face. "I wasn't wild."

"You could have made George and me triplets," he said so dully that Ginny almost let out an amused snort. Fred darted his foot forward, rudely kicking her rolling chair. "Why are you in such a bloody foul mood?"

Ginny gave him her best are-you-serious look and gestured towards the computer. "Did you miss the earlier part of this conversation? Was I talking to myself? Can you help me? Do you know what's wrong with it?"

Fred's eye brows drew together as he turned to lean over the keyboard. Ginny watched him chicken peck a letter on the keyboard, but when it dinged in protest his eyes widened as he leapt back. Raising his hands, as if warding the hardware off, he backed away and said, "I can't help you. This is why we pay you."

"No, you pay me to handle the clients and their money when they make donations or buy merchandise. I refuse to deal with maximum overdrive over there."

He simply gave her a pinched, pained expression before letting it go.

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