DISCLAIMER: See Ch. 1.

A/N: Hypothetical question: Ever read those fics where Harry has the blood of more than one Hogwarts Founder or other great ancient wizard? Well, if Voldemort had Gryffindor blood in him, would that be considered sacrilege?

CHAPTER 7: THE WEASLEY TWINS' GRAND OPENING

Modo tecum una argentums afferto. Just bring some money with you. –Plautus, Asinaria (240)

On Saturday morning, Harry made sure he dressed well in his best casual Muggle clothes (Harry persuaded his relatives to buy him decent Muggle clothes, not hand-me-downs from Dudley) and waited for Lupin to come by to get him. Harry had just finished cleaning out Hedwig's cage and clipping her talons, and was stroking her feathers when there was a knock on the door at five to one.

The Dursleys nodded in comprehension, and Lupin strolled in. He smiled warmly and said, "Hello again, Harry."

"'Lo," Harry said.

"By the way, Harry, why did you include your relatives in your discussion with me a few days ago?"

He shrugged. "Well, it's their house, isn't it? Besides, I figured that maybe my aunt would know some of the answers, since she was the one who sealed the bond when she took me in."

"Good point. Anyway, time to go," his ex-mentor said, pulling out a used-looking quill.

Harry took the Portkey. Lupin counted down, "Three- two- one."

"There was the familiar jerking sensation, the swirl of color and sound, and a moment later, Harry staggered a little as they landed in Diagon Alley. Harry looked up. He saw a brilliantly colored store that read, in a weird, wacky sort of handwriting: WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZES, 93 DIAGON ALLEY! Without further ado, Harry and his father's childhood friend strolled inside.

The store, which was larger on the inside than Harry had expected, was filled with children of all ages, accompanied by their parents. Harry recognized a few as fellow students at Hogwarts. There was a positive babble in the air. A few goblins were busy at the cash registers, dealing with a new customer every ten seconds or so. 'The twins must be doing very well if the could hire a few goblins; I'm sure the Weasleys will like this a lot,' Harry mused to himself. One wall of the shop was covered almost entirely with jokes under a banner reading ANTI- UMBRIDGE PRANKS: PERFECT FOR TORMENTING YOUR WORST TEACHER! These included the two pranks Harry remembered best which were used against Umbridge during her short time as Headmaster of Hogwarts: Wildfire Whiz-Bangs and Portable Swamps. Trick sweets, fake wands, magical costumes, and a whole variety of other goods were stacked all over the place. Harry wandered around with a smile on his face, glad that he had contributed to all this. A moment later, the felt somebody grabbing him on each arm, and he was being dragged to a dais with a podium on it. 'Oh no,' Harry thought to himself with horror.

"And here he is at last!" one of his redheaded captors exclaimed.

"Our famous and generous financial backer!" shouted his twin.

"HARRY POTTER!" Fred and George Weasley both announced as one.

There was a sudden hush, much muttering, and then eventual applause and cheering. The support came loudest from fellow Gryffindors and other members of the former D.A. With the exception of a few belligerent Slytherins, namely Draco Malfoy and his cronies, the students and teachers all hated Umbridge.

'I definitely should have bought my invisibility cloak,' Harry thought to himself. He then turned to the twins. "Is this how you treat all your guests of honor?" he asked them. "Gang up on them and drag them away?"

"Hey, better to drag you up to the back of the store," started Fred.

"Then to kick you out through the front door," finished George.

The crowd laughed. Even a couple of cameras flashed in the crowd. Once it had subsided a little, the mischievous duo turned to Harry. "Well, aren't you going to say a few words, Harry?" Everyone turned towards him.

Harry was still looking at the twins. "You do know I don't like being the center of attention wherever I go, don't you? At least you and your family weren't among the numbskulls that swallowed that Rita Skeeter bilge during the Triwizard Tournament." As he glanced at the crowed, he noticed a few people were looking guilty and squirming a little.

"We know, Harry, but," said Fred.

"It's only right that you say something here anyway," said George.

"Yeah, Harry, what do you think about the merchandise?" Lee Jordan called out from the side of the room.

A grin spread over Harry's face. "Oh, their merchandise is excellent and outstanding. No, sorry, that would be an understatement. It's among the best I've ever seen." As the twins flushed with pride and embarrassment, he continued, "Their trick sweets will certainly surprise anybody who unwittingly eats them, and I'm sure they'll be more careful about what they eat in the future after that. The other items, like the Wildfire Whizbangs, for instance, are definitely longlasting and hilarious enough to keep anyone entertained for hours, especially if they're running around trying to get rid of it. You won't get a bang out of them; more like an entire explosion."

"Can we quote you on that, Harry? It might help boost our sales," pleaded Fred.

"You're probably going to do it no matter what I say anyway, so what different does it make?"

"True," commented George. "Anything else to add, Harry? You know, just for the record."

"Oh, fine," said Harry. "I dunno. Nitwit, blubber, oddment, and tweak. Are those good enough?" (1)

"Gee, where does that sound familiar?" said a familiar voice from the crowd.

Professor Dumbledore was standing there with that familiar grin on his face and twinkle in his eyes.

"Now I remember where I got those words from," responded Harry, "You said that at the Welcoming Feast in my first year."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "My colleagues and I were just looking around at such ingenious contraptions, in case we get another teacher like Umbridge, as well as to complement Messrs. Weasley and Weasley on making her life unbearable in turn after she forced me out of the castle."

The twins were looking as though Christmas had just come half a year early. "Thank you very much, Professor," they sang together, with wide grins on their faces. Obviously, their teachers had never complimented them before on causing real mayhem at school.

"You're quite welcome," said Dumbledore. "I like keeping troublemaking elements, such as Peeves, around the castle, in case anyone tries to force me out of it. Speaking of which," the Headmaster added with an amused sort of grin, "I believe our resident poltergeist has a special song in honor of this event. I'm afraid I have no choice but to let the school's resident poltergeist visit; he threatened to just about rip the entire school in half if we didn't give in to his demands."

Just then, Peeves swooped in, took out a roll pf parchment, unfurled it, and began to sing something to the tune of "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch":

"You've a toad-face, Ms. Umbridge.

I thought you ought to know.

Your neck is nonexistent

and I hate that big black bow,

Ms. Umbridge.

You're about as clever

as a drunken grindylow.

You're abhorrent, Ms. Umbridge

Like a nasty sewer clog.

There's really nothing slimier

than a pompous pedagogue,

Ms. Umbridge.

I wouldn't touch you with a

Whomping Willow log.

You're pathetic, Ms. Umbridge.

You're a simpering, feeble sham.

I've heard better ersatz coughing

at a hernia exam,

Ms. Umbridge.

Given the choice between the two of you

I'd take the--HEM HEM--hernia exam.

You're a foul one, Ms. Umbridge

with your exsanguinating quill.

How dare you torture Harry

into sleepless dishabille,

Ms. Umbridge.

The three words that best describe you are, and I

quote: "Plump" "Pink" "Punk"

You are troll-kin, Ms. Umbridge,

High Inquisitor or not.

Fudge must be in Malfoy's pocket

To have given you that spot,

Ms. Umbridge

Your soul is a Chamber of Secrets housing a flatulent, feculent

flobberworm best left undisturbed for all eternity and

Sealed with Devil's Snare knots!

You're a cretin, Ms. Umbridge.

Minerva told you off.

Even Flitwick had you floundering,

Even Hagrid had to scoff,

Ms. Umbridge.

You're a three-decker moldy headcheese and stoat sandwich

With Stinksap sauce! (2)

One would have thought that the building itself was shaking from all the laughter. People were collapsing with laughter, holding onto each other for support, or else crying with tears of mirth as Peeves took a bow. Harry was sprawled over the podium, his sides splitting from laughing so hard. Trying with all his might to breathe in properly, he managed to ask, "Hey Peeves, -snort- why don't you zoom over to the Daily Prophet and –gasp- get them to publish that? Tell them –pant- that I sent you?"

For a second, Peeves looked almost offended. "And why should I take orders from you?"

"Peeves, just think of all the –chuckle- trouble it would cause if it were published and sold!" Harry reassured him, still trying to force oxygen into his lungs.

Peeves looked as though he had had an epiphany. "Of course!" he shouted with delight. "Thank you so much, Potter!" And with thought, he zoomed out the door and down the street.

Harry brushed a few tears of mirth off his face. "When I get tomorrow's Prophet, I'm going to frame it and hang it." He then noticed the looks on everyone's faces as they all stared at him. "What?"

With sudden suspicion, he turned to the mirror, and stared. His head had vanished! Trying to sound as casual as possible, he turned to the twins. "A Headless Hat, I presume?"

The twins grinned manically. "Sorry Harry, we did it while everyone was laughing." Fred confessed.

"Couldn't resist," George added. "Hey, at least you don't see the scar on your forehead anymore."

"It's a good thing neither of you can see the look on my face right now, you know," Harry responded pointedly. A few snickers went through the crowd at this statement as he took the hat off.

At that moment, Harry was saved from subjugation to any further pranks by Mrs. Weasley's voice. "Well, I supervised a nice snack bar, and it's ready right about now!" And with that, just like the four House tables at Hogwarts, very appetizing food and drink suddenly appeared on the previously empty tables. There was a murmur of interest as everyone helped him or herself to the food.

Harry turned to the twins. "By the way, however did your mum support what you were doing?"

"Well, when we told her that you funded us-" started Fred.

"And showed her our projected sales for the next year or so-" continued George.

"We offered to cut her five percent of our profits-"

"She thought for a few seconds-"

"Wrapped us into a big hug-"

"And told us-"

"'Fred'-"

"'George'-"

"'I'M SO PROUD OF YOU TWO!'" the both finished dramatically.

Harry laughed at this and went over to the food tables. He was just thinking about trying out the rolls when someone tapped on his shoulder. It was Cho.

"Can we talk?" (3)

(End of Chapter 7.)

A/N: So, was this funny or what?

(1) Yes, I got those from Dumbledore's nonsense words at the Welcoming Feast in the first book.

(2) Some author whose name I can't remember loaned me this poem. Unfortunately, she's now off this website. Well, thanks, whoever you were!

(3) You guys are lucky; the last version of Chapter 8 was pure, teeth-rotting HPCC fluff that didn't work too well. I can assure you that their relationship in here will be platonic.

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