No Laughing Matter

Chapter Fifteen

George sat in the quiet of the Library; wearing some of the muggle clothing he'd worn the previous year, before leaving Hogwarts - he rarely wore them now that he was a fully fledged businessman in the wizarding community. He found himself poring over recent issues of Muggle newspapers, with dates that corresponded with the sighting of the Dark Mark. Rowan had also told him to look for any articles containing 'mysterious' deaths, accidents, or anything 'unusual.' All of this stuff is unusual to me, George thought glumly, as he looked at a picture on the front page of one of the papers with the Muggle Prime Minister on it. It was creepy how they never moved. He skimmed the articles with little hope of finding anything; he suspected that this 'job' had been a device of Rowan's to keep him occupied and out of her way while. She was searching archived news articles on some bizarre looking mechanism that the clerk at the reference desk had called a "computer." She seemed to have used one of these things before, because she didn't ask for assistance. She just sat in front of the "screen" and occasionally tapped the lettered buttons on the "keyboard." George glanced in her direction once or twice for signs of her being done, but found none. He returned to his own search.

A strange sight greeted constables who arrived at the site of a devastating tragedy in Kent last night. The Kimball family, John (34), Corrine (32), and their two children, Michelle (10), and Brock (7) were all found dead in their home of unknown causes. Constables were said to have witnessed a strange, luminescent cloud in the sky above the home, which gradually dissipated, but which was described a "eerie." Constable Declan Anders asserted at first that the cloud had been the unmistakable shape of a skull to it, and that it had hung in the air like a balloon, instead of blowing away as chimney smoke is wont to do. When asked to confirm this fact later, Constable Anders seemed confused, and unsure that he had seen the cloud at all. Early findings indicate that that the Kimball family may have burned a toxic substance in their fire, and that the resulting fumes may be the cause of death. A burned toxic substance may also explain the eerie cloud above the home, though further investigation is clearly warranted.

"Well I found an article," George said, sitting up and stretching. "But I don't know if it will be of any help. From the sounds of it, any witnesses were Obliviated. The Muggles' explanation for the Dark Mark is just vague enough to make me think it was fed to them."

"No, that's good. Do me a favor and copy the article for me." Rowan looked up from her work and stretched. "I'll want to visit the site and try and talk with any neighbors. You never know if one of them saw something without knowing they were seeing something."

"Do you think I'm safe using my wand here?" he asked, looking around.

"No, this place is crawling with Muggles," Rowan answered distractedly. She pointed to a large box with wheels on the far side of the room. "You'll have to use the machine over against that wall."

"Machine?" The idea of using Muggle technology was vaguely terrifying; it just seemed so unpredictable.

"The photocopier."

"But there isn't a photo for this article."

"Just take the part of the paper with the article over to the machine and read the instructions on the top. It's really easy."

George decided against arguing, since he found that he rarely won an argument with Rowan unless he allowed him to, and took the paper to the machine she had pointed to. He examined it closely, and read the directions through twice before opening the lid and looking at the glass plate inside. The directions were pretty straight forward, and there was even a sign that read: Place document between arrows. He placed the article that she wanted copied in the designated place, closed the lid, and pressed the green button. He jumped and stepped backward when the machine began to hum and click, and then looked around in embarrassment to see if there were any witnesses to lapse of composure. No one was paying attention to him, and so he turned his attention back to the machine; it had spit forth a smooth, white sheet of parchment from a slot in the side, and onto a shelf that seemed to be there for that purpose. It ceased humming. Curious, he took the paper, thinking that perhaps it was giving him further instructions, and was surprised to see a copy of the article on it.

"Wicked!" he said, examining the parchment carefully, and then removing the original from the machine.

"Are you finished?"

George turned to find a Muggle standing behind him, obviously waiting to use the machine. He nodded, and stepped aside to watch the machine work again. The Muggle placed a large text, open and face down on the glass plate, but didn't close the lid before pressing the activation button. A bar beneath the glass plate traveled from one end of the machine to the other, emitting a bright light as it went. The light went out as the bar returned to it's starting point. Fascinating.

"Can you copy anything on this thing?" George asked the Muggle eagerly.

"Pretty much," he answered with a shrug. He took his book and walked away.

Approaching the machine once more, George lifted the lid and touched the glass. It was cool to the touch. He laid his hand flat against it and pressed the green button with his other hand. He watched the progress of the bright light, prepared to jerk his hand away if it became hot or painful in any way. The parchment slid out of the bowels of the machine as before, this time with a picture of his hand on a black background. Amazing! Could he take a picture of his face? He looked around briefly, and then laid the side of his face against the glass, and press the button once more; he closed his eyes to avoid blinding himself. Once the light disappeared and the humming stopped, he lifted his head and was delighted with the paper that the machine ejected, bearing a slightly distorted profile of his face, freckles and all!

"Young man," came a stern voice from behind him. "I must ask you not to do that. This is not a toy!"

"Yes ma'am," George answered, too excited to wipe the smile from his face. The woman looked like the Muggle equivalent of Madam Pince, the Hogwarts Librarian. He took the 'copies' she had made, and retreated to his seat to see Rowan shaking her head, with a smirk on her face. He grinned sheepishly at her and showed her the papers he had brought back.

"You're hopeless," she said, in mock severity. He didn't need to know that she had done the same thing when she'd first learned about copier machines. She decided it was probably a good thing that he hadn't seen the computer printer at work, and gathered the papers she'd printed, the copy of the article George had found, and her satchel. He had been more patient than she'd expected, and thought the least she could do was treat him to lunch.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While George had been sitting in a Muggle library, George had taken his first break of the day from manning the counter of the shop. Lee had flooed him to say that he was sick and couldn't come in, and his Mum wasn't due in until around lunchtime. The store had been busy that morning, with many shoppers picking up tricks for Halloween. Now that there seemed to be a lull, he quickly brewed a pot of tea and opened the copy of the Prophet that he had not had time to peruse until now. It didn't take long for his eyes to fall on the headline of the front page: Peter Pettigrew Alive! He choked and spit tea all over the counter, noting with horror that the author of the story was none other than Rowan Winters. He read the article once quickly, and then again, more slowly. He couldn't believe what he was reading, and wondered a bit stupidly if George had seen this article yet. He'd spent the night at the girls' apartment, so of course it was probable that he had; it was his girlfriend who'd written it. He could only imagine what George's reaction to this 'news' had been, but he knew they'd be discussing it in detail, most likely with members of the Order in attendance.

'Well there's nothing I can do about this now,' he thought with resignation. He cleaned up the mess he'd made with his tea, and sighed as the bells over the door tinkled; it looked as though his break was over.

"Surprise!" Carly smiled as he looked up from wiping off the counter, "I've gotten off work earlier than I expected." She leaned over the counter and planted a brief kiss on his lips, then plucked a blue gumball from a small dish with a sign that read "Free Sample! Try One."

Fred only looked at her blandly at her questioning look, and so she popped it bravely in her mouth and began to chew.

"This is by for the foulest, most disgusting thing it had ever been my misfortune to put in my mouth!" she said in an uncharacteristically rude tone. Shocked by the words she had just uttered, she tried to apologize, but instead said, "And that is the stupidest looking..." She clapped a hand over her mouth in distress.

Fred grinned widely. "Grumbling gumballs," he explained. "While you're chewing it, you can't control the complaints and insults, however untrue, from coming out when you try to talk."

She promptly rounded the counter and spit the gum in the dustbin. "Brilliant!" she announced happily.

"We tested them out on Bill," he chuckled. "Fleur didn't speak to him for three days."

"It leaves a bit of a bitter after taste," she observed.

"Most harsh words do," Fred said sagely. "We're short-handed today, Lee is sick, and George is off somewhere with Rowan. Mum will be in soon, but I'm afraid it'll be too busy for me to get away until this evening."

"I can stay and help out a bit. Are you still going to be able to make it to Uncle Nigel's tonight? He loves Halloween."

"I'll be there. I've got a new product for him to try out. It's right up his alley; Sleep Inducing Sugar Cubes. One or two in a cup of tea, and the drinker will drop off almost instantly, and wake up about two minutes later with no idea what happened. They're similar to Fainting Fancies."

"Better yet," Carly smiled impishly. "Give them to Aunt Suzette."

"Perfect!" he declared, and pulled her in for another kiss.

The bells over the door tinkled again, and a group of witches came in together. Carly lent a hand with one of the witches who wanted some of the pastries behind the counter, and George answered the questions of the other two witches as they browsed the store.

Carly and Fred worked companionably side by side, and soon the witches left, happy with their purchases. Fred mentioned that they were getting low on Coughing Cookies, and Carly volunteered to go start another batch; not that it would ever take the place of healing, but she had been enjoying learning how to make some of the more perishable treats the boys sold in their shop. Fred smiled to himself as he watched her disappear into the back of the shop. George had agreed that it would be okay to entrust some of their secrets to Carly; she was obviously becoming a permanent fixture in their lives. He would have to have to do something about changing that "becoming" into just plain permanent. He was still smiling when his Mum bustled in, apologizing for being late.

"Oh, Fred dear! I'm so sorry," she said, rounding the counter and kissing his cheek. She had taken to kissing all of her children at every opportunity since the news had come about Percy. "That article Rowan wrote, you know. Have you seen it? Mad-Eye has been in a right flap about it, and insisted on calling some of the members to headquarters to discuss it. As if Rowan could be a spy - honestly! It took me an hour to convince him to wait until I'd had the chance to find out what I can. You might want to warn George to steer clear of Mad-Eye, by the way."

Fred nodded, having had experience with the ex-Auror's paranoia. He could just hear the old man raving about how George should have known what was going on under his own nose, etc., etc. and how did he know she could be trusted? Fred wasn't worried about Rowan's loyalty, but he was a little concerned that George might have been sharing more with her than was necessarily wise. He understood the desire to share everything with the woman he loved, but there was a lot at stake that depended on secrecy. He hoped to talk to Dumbledore soon about bring both Carly and Rowan in to the Order's confidence soon.

"And Mundungus!" Molly was starting to fume, as she often did when Mundungus Fletcher's name was mentioned. "Trying to sneak out of headquarters with that silver in his cloak. I don't care if he is a member of the Order, he's..."

"Hello, Molly," Carly entered the room cautiously. "You sound upset. Is there anything wrong?"

"Oh! Carly, I didn't know you were here." Mrs. Weasley flushed and mentally cursed herself; this was the second time she'd mentioned the Order around the girl. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just blowing off steam. I have an acquaintance that's very aggravating, is all."

"Well I think everyone has acquaintances like that," Carly answered with a smile. "Would you like me to make you some tea?"

The moment passed, and neither Fred nor Molly could tell whether or not Carly had overheard any of Molly's conversation. Carly acted normally, and greeted the next customer cheerfully before going to check on the cookies. They all worked together in harmony for the next hour before Carly took her leave, saying that she had some shopping to do. As Fred watched her go, she reflected that his life was becoming very complicated.