"Why are we so hated. Seriously."

Normally George would tease his twin for being such a girl. But, he had to admit, this was the lamest "mission" they had yet to have. Even Kenny was having more fun then them at the moment.


"I mean, come on. What are we, eight? This is pissing m-"

"I get it!" George snapped. The wheat was making him itchy. "Shuddup, already!"

Fred blasted the remaining stalks of grain in his way, the smoldering smell making the two sneeze and sniff any more.

"Doesn't mean you have to be rude." He muttered.

George let it fly. Let your mean words float to the sky, he told himself. This big, beautiful blue sky. It had been a while since he had been able to actually enjoy being outside. The sandy grain was flowing, it smelled like life- the contrast of the yellow and blue looked like life- this was the closest thing to alive the both of them had in a very long time. There wasn't even a cloud in sight- a very rare occurrence, of late.

"Your mean words just glance off my shiny blubber. I am a seal, and I am relaxed. I am sleeping on the beach, soaking up the warmth. I am the sun, beaming down on this seal…"

Fred turned to look at him, bemused.

"What the fuck are you on?"

"Air!" George threw his hands into the breeze. "Clean, Clear Air, you barmy idiot!"

Fred turned once more, grinning.

And I'm down, George thought, wrestling with his spitting image in the midst of this random abandoned wheat field. Nothing new.

"Mercy!" George had started to pull Fred's leg hair. He absolutely hated that. "God you fight dirty."

"God you fight…like a girl." George ducked as a bewitched wheat stalk almost impaled him.

"Can we get going now?" Fred said, hiding his impish grin. "You are so immature."

"You're mom is so immature."

"Wow. I continue to be amazed by your perseverance. You just keep coming back for more."

George couldn't remember the last time he had felt so…carefree. To hell with self control.. "…That's what she said."

Even Fred laughed, their booming, obnoxious laughs echoing across the empty yellow corn and endless blue sky. "I AM SO BORED!" he finished with a roar. "So bored, even that was funny, you slimy git! HOW did I get myself here? Since when am I a mailman!"

"We're hated, remember?" George shrugged.

"Good call." Fred coughed. "prick!"

"And you know what else is a pretty good call?"

"Your face?"

"Blimey. That wasn't even funny. The stump, dumbass."

Fred dropped his comeback. "seriously?"

"Right there!"

And it was true- George had seen it in the corner of his eyes when he got up a second ago.

"Ace! We're halfway done."

"…Not really."

"Just step to it there, skippy."

They approached the stump, young legs moving gingerly. The lone stump was wide and old, although only raised off the ground a slight amount- a foot, at most. It was gray with age and erosion and bugs had weathered it down to a leathery, sad slight of a tree. George almost felt bad for it.

"And why do we have to put a weight on it?" Fred asked, exasperated, moving as to get on the stump. "Let's just step on it and get it ov-"

George scrunched his bushy red brows. Fred had stepped up- but the stump was still next to him.


He tried stepping again- but once more the stump stood stubbornly in front of him.

George looked at his bewildered brother, the stump, the wall of wheat close around them- what was going on?


Fred stepped up again. And again. And again.

"I am getting PISSED." Fred attempted to kick the stump. "Are you kidding me?"

"I think you're getting it angry." George said, in all seriousness. "Maybe you should try thinking like the stump…be the stump…"

"Shut the bloody hell up!" Fred squeaked out in outrage as he stepped, and stepped, and stepped some more. "I don't think I've ever been so frustrated with a tree! Not even a tree! You are a stump! A pathetic, lonely, old stump! Is this a freakin joke?!"

George watched, amused. "I don't think you're passionate enough. You make me sick."

"YOU open the damned fucking thing, then!" Fred stormed off into the wheat, leaving a cloud of pollen to settle around him. George heard his irritated and muffled shrieks from a few feet away.

"You know, you shouldn't hold in your emotions like this!" George yelled into the distance. "It's not good for your health! You might want to go see someone!"

He picked up his pack. It was a decent weight. "You might want to even try being like this stump, here." He started, walking around the stump, ranging how close he could get to the magical object. "Passive, calm-"

"a bastard." Fred came back into the small clearing, the hint of a smile threatening the single-mindedness of Fred's pissy mood.

"I think you could manage that." George through his bag underhanded onto the stump- and, surprisingly, it stayed.

"Progress." Fred admitted.

They stood in silence a few minutes, watching the leather pack lay.

"So." George scuffed the dark, sandy ground.

Suddenly the stump compacted, and fell through in the middle, leaving a black hole- the cold air chilling the atmosphere around the twins.


Fred glared at the tunnel.




George walked further into the roomy, open chamber.

"Anyone here?"

He patted the dust off his clothing from sliding down the stump chute- which, convienently, led to the safe house's fireplace. He heard a bump and scrape from behind him- Fred had just landed in the hearth, rolling onto the pale cedar floorboards. He looked at the whitewashed walls and wide, floor-to-floor windows that showed the serene view of the wheat field above.

"Who doesn't love enchanted windows." He said, stepping up and grabbing his pack which came before him. "No one is here?"

"Didn't really have much time to check." George followed the room to its wide opening into, seemingly, another empty room. "This is very strange."

Fred cleared his throat, and arched his back. George rolled his eyes.



"ANYONE?" he shouted.


George dived to the floor, taking Fred with him- His wand was out, shaking- one of the windows had swung open like a door- and-

A girl stepped out.

Or, as George embarrassingly stood up fast, knocking out his brother again, a woman. Or girl. Whatever. His age, though.

"Er- sorry." He said, laughing awkwardly. "I forgot this was a no-risk mission…you know how it is."

"Well, not really." The stranger said, wary. She raised her eyebrows. "I haven't met you before."

"She's a smart one, isn't she." Fred said, grumbling as he attempted to get up again.

"They said they would always send the same people- how do I know if you're allright?" She had to be at least eighteen, George thought as he watched her edge back to the window-door. She had an oval face, and large, deep-set eyes. Her hair was thick, brown, and curly, and had a rather large nose. He couldn't tell if she was pretty or not.
"You are going to have to trust us on that." George said, trying to coax her from the window. "We brought your letters, and food. I can show you, if you want."

She scrunched up her nose. Fred exchanged a glance with his brother. "No, it's okay." She decided, and took a step closer. "you two look alike." She took another step. "and you are missing an ear."

"So I'm told." George smiled. "I'm George."

Fred took a giant bow. "I'm Fred."

The stranger broke out into a huge smile- it did wonders for her, her face lit up, the nose scrunched, everything, for a moment at least, fit.

"I'm Delia. "


The swivel bar stools were pretty badass.

"It's quite a set up you have here."
Delia laughed, a wild boom, as she sorted through the mail on the kitchen counter of the safehouse. It was cheery, in the inner rooms, with deep red paint and white trim, the wheat windows providing much light and calm.

George continued to swivel as he waited for Fred to use the bathroom. This was starting, belief it or not, to intrigue him.

"It's not that bad." She continued, stacking the letter piles on the formica. "There is a whole bunch of us- most of them are sleeping, we live in shifts, sorta, to reduce crowding. Plus most of them are on jetlag, but you wouldn't know what that is, would you?"

She talked fast.

"Er-" George stopped spinning, his head still tilting heavily to one side. "Not a bloody clue."

She smiled again. "Well it doesn't matter. But anyway, why are you interested in me? You are the wizard!" She came around and took a stool. "It must be so amazing. How is the fight going? What are you doing?"

George thought a bit.

"It's okay, I guess." He said. The whole war thing just blows, and it's really quite scary, and I've totally been burnt by the village elders and have shit jobs to do now, but overall, it could be worse."

"Knock on wood." Delia knocked on the formica. George followed suit.

"that wasn't wood." He whispered into her ear.
"I won't tell if you don't." She whispered back, with that smile. It had charm, he had to admit.

"So how did you end up here, pretty little muggle like you?" Fred came back, sauntering from the nearest stairwell and leaning on the counter Delia had just abandoned.

"Stupidity." She laughed. "I have a habit of getting in sticky situations. I kinda suck at the whole living thing."

"ah, so life isn't you strong point." Fred observed, nonchalant. "It happens."

She was laughing again.

"It's sad, isn't it? But yeah. My aunt is Marianne Conahugh, whose sister is Meghan Finnigan who has a son who goes to the Wizarding School, my, like second cousin-"

"Seamus?" George interrupted. She nodded.

"Mhm. And one day they just came over and things got messy- and frankly quite terrifying- and then we were rescued and I've been here for about two months." She slammed down a letter pile for emphases.

"That was very powerful." George smiled. This was fun. He liked it here. The sun shined, it smelt like plants, things were clean, smiles, friends- he could get used to it.

Delia was still laughing. "I try, I really do. But let's go meet everyone else who's awake, shall we? It's not like I have anything else to do."

A/N: Hey guys aha. wow. so i'm back, a summer later, and once again, bored lol.since i'm still a potter nerd, and really do still love to write/tell stories, i've decided to pick up my story watching potter where i left off, although my grip on the potter series and plot itself is not as strong. Therefore if the story gets weaker, i'll delete all i have written to remain with the solid backbone I created last summer. I really do think i did a decent job, and would really appreciate the (hopefully) constructive criticism reviews i'll recieve. which is where you come in. please let me know if you think the story quality has faltered, it wouldn't be a problem at all to just start a new one lol. I dont' even know if people still read these things, now that the potter fever is over! we'll see. I also barely proofed this at all, so if you see any careless mistakes and such, just let me know aha. And if you think this chapter is pretty eh, I agree, but I wanted to get back into character and give the twins a safe place. I swear it's relevant! Aha. Okay , almost done- but I've lost contact with my former beta SO former beta! If you are reading this, my email got screwed up! I lost everything! Please give me your address again aha.

oh! and if you are someone who favorited me last summer and are still keeping up, thanks so much! i would absolutely love to hear from you...nojoke. thanks so much everyone. Hope you enjoy!