InsaneJournal

Who: Fabian Prewett, James Potter, and Fred and George Weasley
What: Recruitment
When: Evening of Sunday, 29 June, 1998. BACKDATED.
Where: The twins' flat over Wheezes
Warnings: Language



With Lee out on a story and Percy still abroad for Wheezes, it seemed like it was a good time for Fabian to approach the twins for the discussion they needed to have. He'd offered to bring dinner by, knowing perfectly well that the twins would never turn food down, and had brought James along with. The two of them had brought hot fish and chips from the shop around the corner from Fabian's flat; Fabian reckoned they could smell it well before he got to the head of the stair and knocked on the door.

"Oi, you two. Dinner is about to be served and if you don't want your share to be eaten by someone else, you'd best open up."

George beat Fred to the door, even if he had to do a flying dive over the arm of the couch to do it. He flung the door wide. “Right this way, right this way, O Bearer of the Food--” He caught sight of James on the stairs and blinked. “Hello, who’s this? You didn’t tell us you were bringing friends, I would have tidied up.” He absolutely would not have, but he might have shoved some of their more interesting ongoing experiments into the corner, at least. “Hi, Mr. Potter, don’t mind the mess.”

“Hello… George,” James said after a moment. He’d spent enough time with the Weasleys that he could usually tell the difference between the twins, but he wasn’t perfect. He was pretty sure he was right this time. “Fabian asked me to come along. Hope that’s all right.” He’d let Fabian brooch the topic at hand. Fred and George were his nephews, and he knew the best way to approach them. James had only tagged along so Fabian could talk freely without breaking his oath.

There was about to be a knockdown brawl for the right to open the door for food and Fabian, but George was just quicker than Fred was this time. “Oi you little -” There was most certainly going to be expletives to follow that, but Fred shut his mouth when he saw the second guest and lavishly waved his hand to welcome to the two in. “Hello, hello. Uncle F, Mr. Potter. Welcome to our - uh - humble abode.” He shut the door behind the two men as they entered, and kicked something that made a really awkward squeaky noise into the hallway behind him.

“Fish and chips, fantastic.” After waving them in to sit, he cleaned a spot off on the coffee table which was by far the best place to eat - since the kitchen table was really more of a work station and couches were better for eating at in his opinion anyway, and grabbed a few plates to set down if they were needed. “How are you both?”

Fabian didn't entirely succeed in squelching his amusement at the sudden appearance of good manners and attempted cleanliness for a non-family guest. "It's all right, lads. James has seen a bachelor flat or three in his day." He elbowed James lightly and grinned. Moving to set the sacks down in the spot that Fred had just cleared, he added, "You can speak freely in front of James. He's a friend." Fabian did not add of Albus though he thought it, and the wry amusement quirked up one corner of his mouth. "But serious talk doesn't go well with dinner, so let's eat first."

He opened the first of the sacks and the fresh, greasy scent burst out and filled the room. It was a good thing they'd brought a lot, because Fabian was suddenly starving.

George stuck his tongue out cheerfully at Fred, then scooped some pygmy puffs off the couch to make room, sitting on the floor and stacking them in his lap when they squeaked indignantly. "Serious talk? Does that mean the food is a bribe? You know serious isn't a word that usually exists in our vocabulary, don't you?"

Although--considering the presence of James--he supposed he might have an inkling of what it was about, in which case he was absolutely willing to hold his usual exuberance in check for an entire conversation. They kept busy, of course, but lately there had been an itch in the back of his mind, a kind of tension that constantly reminded him: something needs to be done, and you aren't doing it. So, all right. First dinner, then they'd talk.

"This one's called Chips, you know," he said, holding up one of the pygmy puffs. "Wonder if he likes his namesake."

“How do you tell them apart?” James asked as he took a seat on the couch. Once upon a time, he would have sat on the floor too, but despite not being old (no matter what Remus said about it), his joints preferred it when he chose furniture over floors. “They all look alike to me. Well, all the ones of the same color, anyway.” He was able to tell the pink ones from the purple ones, obviously, and a few of them were even colors he didn’t think pygmy puffs came in.

He snagged a chip from the sack and popped it into his mouth. “The food is a bribe for me. I told Fabian if he wanted me to come, he had to feed me, and none of the healthy shite that the healers insist is good for stress.”

At the mention of serious talk, Fred gave George a rather pointed look. He could guess, too, at what that talk would be about. It was no mystery to their Uncle that the twins had been itching to do something more to stop all the anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn violence that had been occurring lately, and it seemed this was going to be the time to bring up some more… options, so to speak, for the boys to get involved.

“I’m sure Chips loves Chips, who doesn’t love Chips?” He asked George, laughing a little before taking a bite of his own chips, settled comfortably on the couch with the food in his lap. “Well, then thanks to you is in order, Mr Potter. Any time any one can convince people to bring us food is pretty fantastic.”

"You're welcome." Fabian's voice was dry amusement, touched with fondness. "So tell me what you two have been up to lately. I know--" and here he glanced at James, who might or might not be aware of the next bit; Fabian couldn't remember "--you've been working with Dedalus on muggle surveillance devices and how we can adapt them for use through wards. Which is something that could be very helpful in the right circumstances." He didn't feel the need to elaborate on the circumstances, which ought to be obvious to everyone in the room. Instead, he dug into his fish and chips while the twins answered.

George grinned at James and shrugged. “How do you tell us apart? You just do, after awhile. Or you don’t and you just make it up, I guess, the pygmy puffs can’t actually tell you if you get it wrong.” He broke open a chip and blew on it, then scooped out a bit of potato for Chips to try.

“We’ve got Extendable Ears that extend further, now--Eyes too. And they can record. Although we still haven’t worked out listening through wards with them.” George wiggled his eyebrows. “But we do have something else that can get around the problem…”

Fred listened as George went on and described a couple of the items they had been working on, before getting in to the bit about how wards were difficult to get around, and without there even being much of a break in between sentences, Fred jumped in on the conversation.

"We used the little bugging devices that the muggles use as like actual bugs - so they move and can bypass warding by hopping onto the people they're listening too. We're also working on making the camera ones do this but so far no luck."

The camcorder thingy that had been brought over was proving to be difficult to understand as a muggle item, let alone transform it into something magical. "What do you think?" Fred was excited to show off their progress and ideas on this particular line of items.

"I think Dedalus and I are going to try that out, is what I think," Fabian said, and turned to get James' opinion. The idea of four purebloods assessing the use of them was amusing to Fabian. Nobody in the room was experienced with Muggle goods, though Lily might have exposed James to some of them.

James was busy feeding tiny bits of fish to one of the pygmy puffs that had climbed on his lap and had only been half listening. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. Someone has to try it. Might as well be you and Dedalus. You’re around wards enough that you can test it unobtrusively.” He popped the rest of the fish in his mouth and scritched the puff behind his--her?--ears. “What’s this one’s name? And what Muggle things did you get? I’m sorry, I’m a little behind on what’s been decided.”

“That one’s Cheese Cake, she’s the rabble rouser.” George beamed proudly, although to be honest Lee was probably more responsible for her attitude than anyone else. “Dedalus brought a whole box of stuff, he’s been explaining how it all works for Muggles and showing us the bits we can’t alter without breaking them. Things for listening, things for watching, some things that make it so you can see in the dark without a potion...I don’t know why anyone thinks Muggles are useless, it’s bloody brilliant what they can do without a bit of magic.” After seeing the devices that Dedalus brought, George was beginning to understand his dad’s obsession.

“We’re still attempting to get the one that shows you what it’s seeing, but it’s difficult enough to get to work normally let alone magically…” Muggles had some very strange and complicated gadgets, but Fred couldn’t deny that he had been having a whole lot of fun while developing this new line of products. The conversation momentarily shifted back to Pygmy Puffs and he glanced at Cheese Cake rather happily, petting the little thing with his index finger on the top of its head like a small cat or dog. “Anyway, I think we’ve got enough things to be useful as of right now, but of course we’ll always keep working on new products to help out in whatever way we can…”

"I'll be sure to take them on the way out so Dedalus and I can give them a trial run at the safehouse. If we can get this working, it'll be useful--I'm not quite sure where we'll need it, but Merlin knows we could have used it last time round." Fabian glanced at James, managing to get a chip in his mouth without shoving it up his nose as he did so. After a moment of chewing and swallowing, he added, "James and I are here to talk freely about things, and to answer you questions and ask you two a few, things I hadn't really thought about and probably ought to, and that you might want to think about before furthering your involvement."

“And I can take the video camera, if you want. I’ve played with enough Muggle stuff I might be able to get it to work, and if I can’t, Lily should be able to show me how to operate it … the Muggle way, anyway.” He had no idea what Fred and George would do with it once they figured out that much, but he could get them that far, at least. He took another chip and popped it in his mouth, then leaned back and gestured for them to get started. “I’m mostly here so no oaths are broken by having this conversation.” He’d contribute where needed, of course, but this was mostly Fabian’s thing not his.

The twins seemed to be waiting for Fabian to go on, so he did: "All right. I know both of you are interested in deeper involvement in the Order, the Order that is now, than simply doing supply. Even though you don't really remember what we were like before, you saw what prison did to me, and particularly to your Uncle Gideon, so you understand the risks. And although I didn't say it in so many words before, I can say freely now, without breaking any oaths sworn, that when Gideon went out to take his vengeance on your Uncle Bilius' attacker, that he was not acting on behalf of the Order, and in fact, he declined to join when we reconstituted ourselves. In fact, that was what he was so cross with me about in the months leading up to his death: that I was in, deeply in, and he didn't want to be, nor did he want me to be."

This led into the next part: "And so this is where I talk to you about what being in the Order means for you, personally. It means lying to your mum and dad and your brothers and your sister, or at least not-telling about things. Your parents didn't ask a lot of the time then, and may not ask me now, but you two are different. Your mum carried you under her heart for nine months, and she loves you to bits. It's just about killed her to lose Gideon, and it would be worse if it were you two. Or one of you.

"And you'll have to lie to Katie and Lee, as well, the latter being the hardest part, I think. And sometimes to leave the shop and close it on no notice, if there's an emergency and you're needed, and generally most all the time you're not working will revolve around the Order. Plus, since there's no Dumbledore, you'll get to see some unappetising squabbling now and again in the meetings. Not that that never happened when we were young, but it's more likely to happen now, without the Headmaster to hold us in check." Fabian exchanged glances with James, who remembered those days as well as he did, and probably better, given Azkaban. "It's a lot of effort, and it's not always fruitful, and sometimes people die. Not just the bad people, either. And sometimes they don't die and that's almost as bad. Maybe worse," he added, thinking of some of Gwen's suffering.

"But when you do the right thing, and when some arsehole Death Eater is thrown in gaol or sent to Azkaban, or you break something that needs breaking to save the world, then sometimes it's all worth it. Now what questions have you two got for us?"

George took in the speech with a sort of intense interest. He knew the stakes, at least in theory, although of course it would be different seeing them firsthand. Still, there wasn’t any doubt in his mind that this was what they needed to be doing. It was what was right.

He hadn’t, however, considered the problem of Lee. Of course he knew they were going to have to be less-than-honest about some things, but he hadn’t really thought through what that meant entirely when you were sharing a flat with someone. It wasn’t like Lee wouldn’t notice all their time suddenly being occupied, and as for closing the shop--the only time they’d shut the shop unexpectedly since it had opened was the day after they found out about Gideon, which Lee knew perfectly well. “Lee’s not stupid. He’s going to figure out something big is up. I’m not sure there’s any story we could tell him that will hold up for very long.”

Hearing it laid out that way, it made his desire to be in the Order very real. It amplified all the sort of thoughts he’d had about what it might be like, what it might mean, and confirmed some of his fears. But it wasn’t unexpected. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the sort of horrible things that might come from being an Order member - the danger it would put him and is family in. Deep down, though, Fred knew it was right. He knew George thought that as well. In the hearts, this is what they were meant to be doing. Not just running a joke shop, which would have been their main goal and ambition for the rest of their lives had Lady Noir and the resurgence of Death Eaters popping up hadn’t of happened. Now, it was inventing things to help save the lives of muggleborns, of the spouses of Witches and Wizards who happened to be muggle.

So all those worries and fears - he pushed them away. They didn’t matter to him.

“George’s right. Lee’ll figure it out soon enough. He’s a journalist, he knows how to investigate and we’ve been transparent with him about just near everything since we met. I mean, we aren’t going to go blabbing our mouths about it and tell him flat out what we’re up to, but he’ll figure it out.” He was sure his friend would be able to figure out what was going on, and Fred even thought it might be better just to bring him in to the fold immediately - but that was for Lee to decide, not him. “I don’t think I have any questions, though. I know what it means to be in the Order, George and I both do. We want to be in anyway.”

"I think this may be the first time since I came back from Azkaban that you two haven't had any questions for me." Fabian thought they would soon enough, but for the moment they didn't know what to ask. "I hate that you feel like you ought to do this. I hate that there's anything to be done." He glanced at James again. "I thought this was all over after they told us Voldemort was dead, and I thought the sacrifice I'd made was worth it. And now--" he shrugged. "I reckon every generation is going to have to fight to beat this. But I like to think there'll be less murdering.

"There's an oath involved. It doesn't actually restrain you from doing anything so much as tell the rest of us if you break it. I thought about having it say SNEAK in pustules across your nose or something, but I decided against. Anyroad, you swear not to tell Order business to anyone who isn't in the Order. Do you think you two can do that, given Lee?"

"Depends on how strict it is," George answered thoughtfully. "I mean...yes, I can swear I won't just come out with it, or tell him things intentionally, but I know I'm not clever enough to keep him from guessing stuff from context. But--that's all assuming he doesn't want to be a part of it, which I have to be honest...I don't think is all that likely. What if he wants to join up? Would you let him?" He stole another piece of fish, glad they'd had the foresight to bring so much. "Because that's where the real problem would be. If he doesn't want to join, he could figure it out but he won't because he won't want to know. But if he does and he can't...I'm not sure I can see this working. Lee knows us better than anybody, so if he decides he wants in, he's gonna know a lot more than you want him to without either of us saying a word." He glanced to Fred for backup.

“George is right. He’ll figure it out, and if he does, and wants to join, what then?” Fred was seriously concerned about that. “I mean, like Georgie over here I’m definitely not going to go blabbing at the mouth about what we’re doing. I think we’ve proven that thus far since we’ve been working on these products - both the surveillance ones and the ones before that - for months without anyone but Lee and Percy knowing, both whom are snoops and both whom we spent a lot of time with and knew us well enough to figure some things out. And Lee only knows about the first products we invented.” He added, so that Fabian and James both knew that Lee knew absolutely nothing about the surveillance items. Which had been difficult to keep from Lee thus far and would prove to be difficult in the future, as well. “So what then, Uncle F? Mr Potter? What if he figures it out and wants to join?”

Since the topic had been brought up at the meeting, Fabian had had time to prepare an answer. "You tell him what a terrible idea it is, talk about how hard it is to not talk to your friends and loved ones about things, remind him that I went to jail for life for my involvement, and you try to dissuade him. And if he still wants in, you throw up your hands and talk to me. Or send him to me." He glanced at James to see if James had anything to add to that.

James was tempted to point out that there was nothing in the Oath that would prevent the twins from just telling Lee everything themselves--there were two of them, after all, and that was all the oath required--but he refrained. They were smart enough to figure it out for themselves once they took the oath, and hopefully also smart enough to know that they should at least have Lee talk to people who had been doing this for a while before making the final decision to join. “From what I know of him, Lee could be useful. He certainly has resources as a journalist. But if he’s going to get involved, he needs to come to you, not the other way around.”

A few more pygmy puffs had climbed into his lap when they discovered he was happy to share his fish and chips, and James fondly petted a few of them. “I seem to have been invaded,” he said mildly. “They’re very affectionate, aren’t they? I may have to pick up a couple for the office, er, the girls.”

George was a little skeptical of Fabian’s answer--his skill at talking people out of doing things was so underdeveloped as to be basically nonexistent--but James’ he could agree with. His intent wasn’t to recruit Lee. It would probably be easier, in a lot of ways, if Lee didn’t want to join--because he would understand there were things they wouldn’t be able to tell him, and if he didn’t want to be involved, he wouldn’t pry. It just didn’t seem all that likely that he wouldn’t want to.

On the topic of the pygmy puffs, though, he had more to say. “They really are great pets, and that’s not just professional bragging. We’re still slowly rehoming the ones from--” he paused briefly-- “um, Valentine’s Day, if you want a pair. Of course, they already have names, and they’re a bit older than the ones in the shop.” He grinned then, not having missed James’ little slip. “We ran out of food names after awhile and started on random household objects. You might like Quill and Ink.”

James had been caught in far more embarrassing situations than wanting pygmy puffs for his office--he was James Potter, after all, and if stories were to be believed, Fred & George Weasley were the only people who could possibly have kept up with the Marauders in their youth--so he just grinned widely. “Which ones are Quill and Ink? Do you think they’d mind living at the Ministry? What do they eat?”

“We can do that, Uncle F.” Of course, they could also just tell Lee but Fred was sure, and he was sure George was too, that they didn’t want to bring Lee into this unless he really wanted to. And they would probably argue with him on it if he asked, until there was clearly no resisting. But that was that, a conversation for another time. “I think we’re all set, then.” He said, nodding his head. They were going to be Order members, and Fred couldn’t have been more nervousexcitedanxious he sort of wanted to throw up and jump for joy all at once. “They are super affectionate, yeah, and they eat just about anything, though not spinach. No idea why but they literally freak out at spinach.”

Fabian nodded at Fred's acquiescence; he thought that James' answer was probably better for them, at least for now, though not in the long run. The twins wouldn't understand why you discouraged people until after they'd seen a tragedy associated directly with the Order, as Gideon's had not been. They didn't know what had happened to him the way Bill did; they were simply too young to remember who Fabian had been before.

What Fabian did not have a strong opinion about was pygmy puffs. He was more than content to let the conversation drift off in that direction, particularly if it meant he could keep the last of his chips out of the mouths of Weasleys, Potters, and puffs.