Disclaimer: Belongs to JK Rowling

Fred Stuffs Up


Charlie wandered into the Three Broomsticks, and was shocked to see his normally very chipper brother sitting morosely at the bar.

"Fred?" He asked as he sat next to him, "What's wrong?"

"I stuffed up Charles, big time," he said, shooting down what seemed like the latest in a long line of Firewhiskey shots.

"What did you do?"

"It was an accident," Fred insisted, "Not like I would do it on purpose, especially if I knew that this was how she would react," indicating the bartender to get him another drink, "That stupid bloody cat shouldn't have eaten them. It's not allowed in the lab."


"Yeah," slamming back another drink, "I've been working on this new trick candy, has some very interesting effects, and it seems like felines are not at all adverse to it."

"Oh God," Charlie moaned, "What happened?"

"His fur fell out," Fred said, "All of it, not a strand left."

"And Hermione didn't take it well," Charlie mused.

"Not at all," Fred said, "And I think the bloody cat planned it, it's never liked me, and as Hermione was storming off with him in her arms, it was like he was smiling at me over her shoulder. Bloody thing," he cursed. "And now I've been kicked out of the house till I came up with an antidote, but how am I supposed to do that if I don't have a lab?"

"What about the one at the shop?" Charlie asked.

"George is entertaining," Fred explained.

"Ah," Charlie said, "I think you'll just have to sneak in, it's the only answer."

"Yeah, that's what I'll do, thanks Charles," Fred said, standing up, and clapping him on the back, "Wish me luck mate."

Charlie chuckled as he watched Fred walk out of the pub, he was going to need more than luck. That wife of his had a fair temper, and it would be all uphill for Fred to make it up to her.