Dinner With A Surprise

That night, a bit woozy from paint fumes, Marysia arrived at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes early, with a large chocolate cake in her hands, receiving two very surprised looks. Fred was impressed that she had dressed up for the occasion of a casual dinner with them, wearing a sleeveless dress that ended in many layers of flimsy fabric that swished as she walked in the reds, pinks and oranges of a tropical sunset.

She handed the cake off to George, who was the first to approach her. "Why don't you have a look around? We're not quite ready to close up yet," he suggested.

"Why don't I give you the Knut tour of the shop?" Fred said as he held out his arm. Fred guided her around the shop and was pleased at how impressed she was. He was very proud of their shop and demonstrated several of the trick wands, which made her laugh, and a Weasleys' Whirling Wizzer, a hand-held firework sparkler ball, that amazed her. They tried on shield hats and he demonstrated some of the 'Muggle magic tricks' that were novelties of the store. At the end of the tour, Marysia bought three boxes of assorted candies, two trick wands, several boxes of various sparklers and two Skiving Snackboxes.

At closing Marysia followed George up the stairs, while Fred closed up the shop with his wand and ran up the stairs after them.

"Hope you're hungry; we were going to make a stew for dinner," Fred said, running up the stairs as George opened the door to their flat and led the way to the kitchen area.

"Yeah, if we make a big enough pot, it'll last us for days," George added.

"Mind if I help?" Marysia asked as Fred and George started to pull out various ingredients to make the stew and a large pot. "I love cooking, and I don't get the chance to cook that much anymore."

With a flourish, George handed her a large knife, and the two of them watched her cut, chop and dice up the vegetables, and then carefully drop the ingredients into the large pot. They were glad Marysia wanted to help with the cooking and allowed her to basically take over making dinner. It was like old times at home for them. While she managed the stew, the guys both sat down with their feet propped up at the table to watch.

"So did you finish copying all that stuff for your dad?" asked George.

"What stuff?" Fred asked.

"Some old scrolls, books, journals, papers Dad finds, copies or borrows. Dad's an historian; he sends me stuff to translate all the time," Marysia stated off-hand.

"What kind of stuff?" Fred asked.

"Dad is into History of Magic: famous witches and wizards and ancient magic, old spells. He hunts down references to old and ancient magic, and stories or references of early wizards and witches, copies everything and translates them if needed. Then he collates them into volumes. Sometimes I help him. He has even been published several times," Marysia said proudly. "I have been doing this with him since I was little. We used to spend hours together translating from old languages, runes and symbols. I have many dictionaries from him – my usual birthday or Christmas present, a new dictionary. That or a history book! I practically have my own library!"

"What's he working on now?" Fred asked, munching on a carrot slice.

"He was researching the legends of Llyr of the Welch and Lir of the Irish, both supposed to be gods of the sea according to Muggle writings. Dad's also been interested in Finn MacCool, of the Fianna, lately, who it's said was related to the Fairy Hill folk. He did manage to get into a fairy hill a few weeks ago and sent me a stack of Celtic scrolls and copies of a lot of carvings. His last box had some journals... and what I think is a diary, but it's very different from what he usually sends me. It's odd stuff, really."

"What is the 'odd stuff' about?" George asked curiously.

Once everything was cut, chopped and diced, Marysia added some spices, then set the fire to allow the stew to cook, tapping the pot with a quick cook charm, and turned to face them. Marysia paused before speaking, looking a bit apprehensive. "The journal, and the papers he sent with it, is... well... are Dark Magic spells, really... Dark curses and... hexes, jinxes... very Dark Magic protective spells and enchantments, like you might find in tombs. Ones that no one ever wanted reopened. Some pretty awful stuff, really. It's not his usual material at all actually."

"Sounds like stuff my brother would know about," Fred stated, but this had piqued his curiosity too. He did notice her hesitation about it and knew that she wasn't telling him everything.

"What does he do?" Marysia asked. She knew they had two older brothers. She remembered Charlie played Quidditch for Gryffindor and he was supposed to have been an incredible player. Rumors were he could have gone pro. The other brother, she didn't know much about at all.

"He works for Gringotts. Bill's a Curse-Breaker," Fred said. The stew was simmering nicely, so she sat at the end of the table between Fred and George to let it cook a bit.

"This Dark Magic stuff, you said it's like you'd see in tombs?" George asked. "Bill might know more about it, Dark Magic protective spells are just his thing. So your dad is looking into curse breaking?"

"No, not at all. I could see it if Dad was interested in breaking into tombs, but he isn't," she said. "He's a History buff, not a treasure hunter. I'm a bit concerned; it wouldn't be the first time Dad stumbled onto something that was..." She stopped a moment, considering whether to tell them. Her dad had made her promise never to tell anyone, not speak of it. But this might be related somehow, she thought to herself and then decided that the information was, "Too dangerous," Marysia mumbled as she got up. She turned back to the kitchen and flicked her wand over the stew. "This would taste better if I had let it cook a while, but I bet you're hungry."

George got up, gathered a loaf of homemade bread and butter that he placed on the table, as she ladled out the stew into three large bowls, and joined them. "You baked?" she asked with a grin, pointing to the bread.

"Nah, Mum sent it with her usual care package of food," George said.

"She assumes that George and I can't cook." Fred laughed and then became serious. "You're changing the subject – you said it was... too dangerous. What's too dangerous?"

Her pause was long as she struggled with what she ought to say and what she shouldn't. Marysia just sat there, digging her nails into her fingers, twisting them nervously. "It was a long time ago." She didn't look up. "My dad ran across some papers, spell work that scared him and – two names... that scared him... a lot. Wasn't a good time for our family – long, sad story really." She looked at each of them in turn, her eyes pleading that the subject be dropped. Fred noticed that besides the nervousness with her hands, and the long pauses, she had a frightened, uncertain look in her eyes. One glance at George and he knew his brother had noticed it too.

"So why does your dad have you translating for him?" George asked. Okay then, he thought to himself, change the subject, then just try a different approach.

"I have always helped him," Marysia explained. "Dad spends almost all his time in his library, or traveling to other libraries. If I wanted to spend any time with him at all, I had to seem interested in what he was working on, or he'd send me out to play. After a while, I really did enjoy helping him, and we had a good time together doing it together."

"So... let me guess; you took Ancient Runes and Cryptology at Hogwarts?" George asked with a smirk on his face.

Marysia felt relaxed again. If he was going to joke with her, then things were fine, safe. "Well, sure why not! I wasn't going to take Divination, now was I? That's such a useless subject unless you want to read tealeaves or palms. Besides, I already knew quite a bit, having done so much of it with Dad, and it was a fun class for me. Dad was so proud."

"I bet you got an O.W.L. in both?" Fred asked.

"I, um – well, yes, I did," Marysia replied with a soft blush appearing on her cheeks. "I received outstanding O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in both. Why?"

"Figures! Hey, this stew was pretty good, but I'm ready for the dessert!" Fred said, enthusiastically pulling the chocolate cake forward as George flicked his wand to have three plates and forks fly to the table.

Fred cut a slice of cake for her, passing her the plate, and then cut the rest of the cake in half, dividing it between himself and George. Fred held out his fork at her. "Look, I don't like the fact that you're nervous about this stuff your dad is sending you. No, don't deny it, it bothers you."

She looked down at her lap, shaking her head. "Look, we are friends, right?" George asked, emphasized with a fork full of cake. Marysia looked up, startled at the statement George made. "What is it about this stuff that has you so worried? Maybe we can help?" He tried to look sincere, serious, but his gaze held hers as she considered telling them. Neither Fred nor George broke the silence as she looked first at George and then turned to Fred, obviously struggling with the decision, conflicted.

She was obviously very nervous talking about this. She was afraid, her hands were shaking, and she was practically breaking out in sweats. The napkin in her hands is now twisted so tight, Fred mused, she might even be able to break it! At last she began to talk, but her words rushed out of her.

"The last batch of journals and scrolls were pretty dark magic, not pleasant to go through actually. There are a lot of symbols I don't know, and I don't have a reference for them in any of my books." She paused and looked away. "It's strange because he was researching the Celtic legends, and his letter said that he had finally found the way into a fairy hill. He was really excited about his discovery, told me all about the runes and carvings he had found, all the artifacts and such."

Again she stopped and looked at them, both fear and concern visible in her eyes. "Suddenly, I get another box... only this time I'm given some really Dark Magic... and a note... asking me to copy everything and translate it – but no information, not his usual excitement... no details! This last case of scrolls and journals just isn't his usual material at all, and there is this diary..." Her voice became really low, hesitant, she looked disturbed and then quickly shrugged it off, and her face even became controlled, calm. "Dad said he ran across them in the basement of an old house, and the owners just gave him the box. He hadn't had time to go through it and asked if I would."

Once again, fear and concern flashed in her eyes as she looked at them. "But if they gave it to him, why does he want it copied?" She began to shiver noticeably. "But he's still away – for a few weeks more – and I don't know where exactly – so I can't reach him to ask about it. He didn't tell me where he is." Marysia noticed how badly her hands were shaking and tried to hide them in her lap, twisting her napkin again.

Fred gave George a questioning look, which he answered with a shrug. Something was wrong about this stuff; they both knew it, but what? "Maybe we should have my brother, Bill, take a look at it? Besides, I'd feel better about him seeing it," Fred said, getting up and moving to the stairs.

"But I'd hate to impose on him. No, really. His time must be very valuable. I couldn't intrude..." George watched her, amused, as she jolted upright, becoming very proper and her posture became very straight and stiff.

George laid a hand on her arm. "He may even know the symbols you can't find. Gringotts has a vast research library on this kind of stuff." He noticed she was shaking as if it were freezing in the warm kitchen.

"He's probably very busy, I really shouldn't obtrude, and anyway, it's such an imposition asking him. I wouldn't want to bother him with this. I'm sure it's nothing, really," she insisted as Fred came back with an owl on his arm.

"In case you haven't noticed, there are a lot of dark things happening lately. Missing witches and wizards, Dementors are loose and running around, odd things reported, even deaths, and you're in that shop alone! Now your dad sends you stuff that obviously bothers you," George said as he watched Fred draft a quick note. "Bill can be here in a few minutes, and this is just up his alley!" The owl flew off out the open window.

"Still, I would hate to impose on him. What if he's busy? Besides, he doesn't even know me," she insisted.

Fred was amused as her insistence continued in that polite and proper manner she had. She slips into it so frequently that it is almost cute. One minute she's sitting here comfortably talking with us, the next she's all nervous, and when we talk about Bill seeing this stuff her father sent her, she gets all proper, even her posture is straighter. But something about this stuff is really scaring her, Fred mused. It would be best if Bill at least took a look at this stuff she's translating. Her father ran across something, he was sure of it.

"It won't be a bother to him. He'll probably like seeing it anyway; he's into curses and stuff like that. Besides, wouldn't you feel better having someone who knows this stuff to confide in?" Fred asked as he moved to her side.

"Well, actually, yes, but I've never discussed my dad's papers and notes with anyone but family before," Marysia replied softly. "Still, it would be such an imposition to interrupt your brother if he is busy. I really don't want to inconvenience him with it. I can't possibly intrude on his..."

"He'll be at home, so that isn't a problem," George cut in with a grin.

"Besides, what are brothers for?" Fred asked, agreeing with George, and winked at her.

"But he isn't my brother..." She was twisting the napkin again, her eyes fearful.

"No, he's ours. Course it won't make much difference once you meet him, he is a very likable chap. He can help – I know it." Fred laid a hand on her shoulder. "Besides, you'll like him; he's not as charming as we are, of course, but he has his moments."

They just couldn't seem to reassure her, Fred noticed. But the more they tried to talk her into letting Bill see this stuff her father had sent her, the more nervous she became. He looked at George, knowing what they should do.

"George, lets go and escort Marysia home, get all her stuff and bring it back here," Fred stated. "I'd feel better once we know what this is all about."

She opened her mouth to protest, but George held up his hand before she could. "No, it's no use saying your polite refusals. "We," he gestured to Fred who was nodding in agreement, "insist. Marysia, we'll get your things and come back here. Bill can look at the stuff, and we can decide from there. Okay?" Both Fred and George were already standing her to her feet.

"But all I need really is just my dad's papers and notes. I mean, you can't mean all my stuff! I can't just move in on you... it's..." she protested.

"Let me guess, it's not proper, it's an imposition," Fred said grinning at her, cutting her off.

"You would be an inconvenience to us and all." George was nearly laughing.

"You couldn't possibly intrude," Fred added. "Such a polite and proper girl you always are."

"Besides, wouldn't you feel safer tucked away in a flat with two fully qualified wizards for your safety?" Fred's mischievous smile and George's grinning nod made her relax a bit.

"Well, yes, I would, and it – maybe if your brother did, if you think he wouldn't mind that is... you're right of course." She was looking at the floor, her hand opened and closed, her voice becoming resolved. "Okay, but if you don't mind, can we Apparate to the shop?" Suddenly, she remembered the cloaked figure she had seen lurking around and felt knots in her stomach, felt panic rise. "It will be faster."

"I thought that you can't Apparate..." Fred started to say then stopped.

"You can if you aim for the right spot in the atrium, just left of the door. That is the space to your right if you're facing the door. My brother's set it up that way, only family knows about it – and now you two," Marysia said, missing that Fred had actually said 'can't,' as if he had tried it.

All three Apparated to the atrium of her shop and ran upstairs to her room. Marysia was briefly ashamed that her bed covers were folded down and books and papers lay scattered across it. Using his wand, George quickly packed all the papers and books on the table into the trunk that was sitting open next to it, showing a sizable bookshelf in the lid of the compartment.

Fred and Marysia packed the rest of her stuff into her steamer trunk. It was standing open, with one side piled with books. The steamer looked like it held as much as a large double wardrobe. Thankfully, all her clothes were still packed neatly, except for the short nightdress she usually wore, draped on the foot of her bed, which she grabbed quickly, making Fred smile at her embarrassment. Marysia grabbed two cigar boxes that sat on the floor under her bed, closed the trunk only to open another lock to a second compartment, into which she slid the boxes.

*~****~*

She ran into the bathroom to collect her things, wondering why she had agreed so quickly to accept their invitation, and amazed that she really wanted to. An angry voice in her head told her she needed to stay and finish her work, which she tried to shake off. She felt the knots in her stomach tighten again as she ran back to where Fred and George waited.

"Nice trunks!" George exclaimed as he watched her pack the rest of her things, and then he realized that the trunk had four locks and the steamer had three. They were going to be heavy!

"Thanks. They used to belong to my Aunt Joanna. Aunt Joanna and Uncle Michal were both killed before my brother, Michal, was born. Really shook up my dad." Marysia felt nervous again; she was babbling. Fred gave her a questioning look. "Uncle Michal was Dad's twin. Dad separated from Mum because of their deaths. Long story – not a happy one." She explained as they flicked their wands with a Hover Charm and pushed the trunks down the stairs into the atrium. "Anyway, when I started Hogwarts, Dad gave me Aunt Joanna's trunk. Mum gave me Aunt Joanna's old steamer when I moved in here." The angry voice in her head was demanding that she return to her room where she belonged. Marysia shook her head to clear her fear.

She stopped to lock the door to her flat, fighting the urgent feeling to stop and go back to her room and wait, not to leave her room. 'No,' she said firmly to herself, 'I'm going.' She turned and followed Fred and George back to the atrium. She paused at the door to look back over the shop. Even with the magic her brothers had put on the place, she was glad that Fred and George were taking her to their flat. She felt queasy and her head hurt terribly.

Just before she turned, something caught her eye, a hooded figure looking in the window at her from the street. As their eyes seemed to lock onto each other, she felt frozen for a moment, her terror rising. She felt a wave of malice from it this time, not so sure why, and she backed into the atrium, carefully closed the doors and locked them. She turned to face Fred and George, her confidence returning as she looked at them, and gave them a timid smile.

They all Apparated together, landing in the twins' flat, to find a man, all in black, standing in the living room.

Marysia screamed.