Chapter 13. The Twins' Request
After lunch in a supposedly "harmonious" and "amicable" atmosphere, Ginny and Ron went back upstairs to their bedrooms to rest.
Duncan leaned back on the sofa, chatting with Mr Weasley about the small animals that often appeared in the garden.
They had not been talking long before Mr Weasley tipped his head back against the sofa, parted his lips slightly, and drifted into a sweet sleep.
Fred and George had slipped to the doorway at some point.
They stood on tiptoe and saw that Mrs Weasley was absorbed in sorting a cupboard.
The twins made a show of coughing and cleared their throats.
When Duncan turned his head to look, they gestured for him to be quiet, pointed towards the door, and beckoned him to come along.
"What do you want to do?" Duncan mouthed silently.
"Come over and you'll know," Fred mouthed back.
He carefully opened the door a crack and slipped out with George.
Duncan rose on quiet feet and followed them outside.
Fred and George immediately pulled him towards a lopsided storage shed.
Inside were heaps of odds and ends, and what left the deepest impression on Duncan was that Ford Anglia—Fred said Mr Weasley wanted to put enchantments on it and turn it into a flying car.
Fred shut the shed door.
The room fell into gloom, with only sunlight spearing through the gaps in the planks to form columns like light-sabres, and the dust the three of them had stirred drifted within those beams.
"What did you call me here for?" Duncan asked in puzzlement.
Ever since he had arrived, Fred and George seemed to have something on their minds.
"To show you something good," Fred said, looking a little pleased with himself.
He and George went to the very back of the shed and, with their wands, shifted aside stacked planks, broken brooms, and assorted bits and pieces, then dragged out a brown rectangular wooden chest.
Fred bent down to undo the latch and beckoned to Duncan.
"Come and have a look, Duncan.
These are our treasures."
Duncan stepped up quickly and glanced inside.
It was full of curious little contraptions.
If he was not mistaken, these were prank gadgets Fred and George usually made.
Those round, pitch-black little balls should be Dungbombs.
"Did you make all these?" Duncan asked, knowingly.
"Of course.
The things we told you about in our letters last time—we've made them all," George said happily.
He rummaged for a moment in the chest, took out a parcel wrapped in parchment from the bottom, and, after unwrapping it, revealed several biscuits.
"Laughing Biscuits," George said, pointing at them.
"Eat one and you'll fall into nonstop laughter, and only after a minute can you stop.
We haven't figured out whether there's any spell that can make it stop sooner, since the spells we've mastered are still quite limited."
"But it's already a very successful prank product," Fred said.
"We secretly had someone try it at school.
It brings people a lot of fun, but it won't cause serious harm."
"So, what you two want is…" Duncan looked Fred and George up and down.
"People have already started buying our products, so we want to make more to sell," Fred and George said in unison, then looked at Duncan expectantly.
"But the two of us don't have any money."
"We only need fifteen Galleons.
That'll be enough to buy materials and make all the gadgets we want."
"Don't worry—once we start making money, we'll pay you back at once."
"If it were before, I'd have forked over fifteen Galleons without hesitation," Duncan said with a helpless smile.
Newt, by writing books and selling some offcuts shed by magical creatures, was not richer than the wizarding aristocrats, perhaps, but it was enough to keep them comfortable.
And with Tina doting on Duncan a little, he had never lacked for money growing up.
That was also why Fred and George had come to borrow from him.
"But not now, because this fellow stole all my money this morning.
I've only got a few Galleons left," Duncan said, fishing the culprit out of his pocket.
Pro dangled in mid-air, its dark eyes reflecting the figures of Fred and George.
It distinctly felt that the eyes of the two in front of it had turned blood-red, murderous intent coiling all over them, as though they wanted to swallow it alive and strip it clean.
"Duncan, you said you'd protect me!" Pro cried loudly.
Its tiny body scrabbled backwards with all its might, trying to get away from the frightening pair before it.
Duncan turned his palm upward, and Pro sat in his hand.
It wasted not a moment—within the blink of an eye it scampered up Duncan's arm to his shoulder and carefully hid behind the back of his head, concealing itself.
Duncan chuckled.
"And I promised it before that money which goes into its pouch is its own.
I won't take its money."
"All right," Fred and George sighed in disappointment.
They did not doubt Duncan—he had no reason to lie to them.
"Then we'll think of another way and see if we can scrape it together."
Duncan began turning over ideas in his mind.
When he had set out, apart from what he needed for school and for caring for magical creatures, he had brought nothing else.
All the materials he could sell were at home.
It would still be in time to rush back now.
But the Floo Network connection Newt had applied for was one-way, allowing travel only from his home to the Burrow, not from the Burrow back again.
That meant that if he wanted to return, he would have to trouble Mr and Mrs Weasley to send him back.
Alternatively, he could take a little something from the magical creatures in his case to sell.
Given his relationship with them, those animals would certainly not object.
But if Newt found out, he would probably storm over the next second to set him straight.
And Duncan did not want to do that…
As he ruled out one option after another in his head, Duncan's eyes suddenly lit up.
He recalled the magic he had obtained earlier by using the Animal Magic Card.
"Don't worry.
I might have a way," Duncan said.
"If we're lucky, we might solve your funding problem very soon."
"What is it?" Fred and George looked at Duncan in delight, awaiting his answer.
"You'll know in a bit," Duncan said.
A line of small text appeared before his eyes.
[Treasure-Seeking Spell: Wiggle your finger and you can find treasures within a one-kilometre radius.
Off you go, lad—the position of the world's richest man is beckoning you!]
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