After eating what Mrs. Weasley insisted was a late lunch and what I suspected was enough food to feed a small army, the twins immediately reclaimed me before she could decide I needed a second helping.
Their first priority was apparently introducing me to one of the Burrow's oldest traditions.
Gnome throwing.
I quickly discovered that the process involved grabbing a protesting garden gnome by the ankles, spinning it around several times, and launching it over the garden fence.
The gnomes themselves seemed oddly accustomed to the practice.
Most simply dusted themselves off and wandered away while muttering angrily.
A few even appeared offended by the quality of the throw rather than the act itself.
Fred and George, naturally, treated the entire activity like a competitive sport.
"Thirty feet."
"Thirty-two."
"You're making that up."
"I never lie."
"You lie constantly."
"Only when necessary."
I ignored their argument and launched another gnome over the hedge.
The creature disappeared into the distance with an indignant shriek.
Not bad.
Just as I was beginning to understand the appeal of the activity, an angry voice echoed from an upstairs window.
"FRED! GEORGE!"
All three of us looked up.
A head poked out from one of the upper-floor windows.
Percy Weasley.
His hair looked slightly messier than normal, and dark circles beneath his eyes suggested he hadn't been getting much sleep.
"Keep it down!" he shouted. "I've got twelve subjects worth of holiday assignments to finish."
The twins immediately ignored him.
Years of experience had apparently taught Percy not to expect cooperation.
Then his eyes landed on me.
"Oh. Hello, Alastair."
His expression softened considerably.
"Mind keeping them quiet for a little while?"
"Sure, Percy."
"Thank you."
Relief was visible on his face.
Then he seemed to remember something.
"Oh, and I wanted to thank you for the Christmas gift."
That caught my attention.
"The projection disc?"
"Yes."
His eyes immediately lit up.
For the first time since I'd met him, Percy looked genuinely excited.
"I've been studying it for almost a week."
The twins groaned dramatically.
"Of course he has."
"Percy studies presents."
"I was researching it."
"See?"
"Studying presents."
Percy ignored them with practiced ease.
"I also tried reproducing the spellwork, but my projections aren't nearly as clear or colorful as yours."
I smiled.
That wasn't surprising.
The final result wasn't dependent on a single spell.
"There are a few theories and tricks involved."
Percy's eyes brightened further.
"I knew it."
"I'll explain them when you're free."
I gestured toward the house.
"I'm staying here for a few days anyway."
That seemed to improve his mood considerably.
"Excellent."
Then he glanced at the twins.
His mood immediately worsened again.
"Now please try not to destroy anything."
"No promises."
"None whatsoever."
Percy sighed the sigh of someone who had spent eleven years dealing with Fred and George Weasley.
Then he withdrew back into his room and firmly shut the window.
The moment he disappeared, the twins resumed their previous conversation as though nothing had happened.
I stared at them.
"You really weren't listening to a single word he said, were you?"
"No."
"Not even a little."
I shook my head.
"By the way, where are Bill and Charlie?"
The twins exchanged a glance.
"Bill was called in for work. He dragged Charlie too"
"They should be back soon."
"Charlie was complaining."
That didn't tell me anything.
If there was one thing I had learned about the Weasley twins, it was that trying to extract useful information from them usually resulted in becoming more confused than before.
So I put the matter aside.
The twins themselves had already moved on from gnome throwing.
Their attention was now focused on a new target.
Ron.
The youngest Weasley boy was sitting on a low fence near the garden, happily working his way through the collection of chocolates and sweets we had brought from Muggle London.
Unfortunately for him, Fred and George had noticed.
Which meant his peaceful afternoon was about to end.
"Ron."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
The twins looked disappointed.
"We haven't even asked anything yet."
"You don't need to."
"That's hurtful."
"It really is."
Ron took another bite of chocolate.
Clearly, this was not his first encounter with this situation.
The twins exchanged a glance.
Then identical smiles appeared on their faces.
A sign that rarely led to good outcomes.
"Ron."
"No."
"We want to teach you something."
"No."
"A valuable life skill."
"No."
"Flying."
Ron paused.
The hesitation alone told me the twins had found a weakness.
Slowly, he lowered the chocolate.
"Flying?"
"Flying."
"On a broom."
The boy's eyes immediately drifted toward the battered old broomstick leaning against the garden fence.
Ron hadn't started Hogwarts yet. Charlie had promised to teach him but, he didn't have any free time these days.
The twins sensed victory.
"You want to learn."
"Charlie will teach me."
"He doesn't have time."
"Busy reading about Dragons."
"and he won't teach you properly."
"Not Weasley style."
I wasn't entirely sure that was something to be proud of.
Ron seemed equally uncertain.
"What does that even mean?"
The twins grinned.
"It means greatness."
"Or a broken arm." muttered george.
"Mostly greatness."
Ron looked toward me.
Clearly searching for a responsible person.
Then he remembered who I was standing with.
The hope vanished from his eyes.
I shrugged.
"It would be good to learn. If you do well you might even get selected for house team when in school."
Ron looked convinced.
The twins immediately seized the opportunity.
Before Ron could protest further, they had already dragged him toward the broom.
"Excellent."
"A wise decision."
"I didn't agree."
"You did in spirit."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"It does now."
The broom was placed into Ron's hands.
The twins stepped back and assumed the expressions of experienced instructors.
The fact that neither looked remotely trustworthy was unfortunately ignored.
"Lesson one."
"Confidence."
"Flying is all about confidence."
Ron nodded uncertainly.
That actually sounded reasonable.
"Lesson two."
"Ignore lesson one."
"Flying is all about not falling."
I watched Ron's confusion deepen.
The twins, meanwhile, appeared perfectly serious.
How they managed to function on a daily basis remained one of life's greatest mysteries.
A few moments later Ron found himself hovering a couple of feet above the ground.
The smile that appeared on his face was genuine.
Then Fred suggested a race.
George suggested a trick.
And suddenly I understood why Charlie had probably spent years suffering headaches.
Somewhere inside the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley shouted the twins' names.
Again.
The fact that she somehow knew trouble was occurring without seeing it was honestly impressive.
The twins immediately pretended to be innocent.
Ron nearly fell off the broom laughing.
And for the first time in days, I found myself laughing with him.