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Harry Potter: I Get Stronger by Taking Loans - 175
🕑 Added 2025-12-19 19:22:54 +0000 UTCChapter 175: The Twins’ Prank, Working for Leonardo
The Burrow.
Leonardo sat at the long dining table with several members of the Weasley family, plates already loaded with generous portions.
“Here, dear, try a bit more of this,” Molly Weasley said, smiling warmly.
Her spoon moved of its own accord and deposited a hefty scoop of stew onto Leonardo’s plate. She watched him with the kind of earnest attention that made it impossible to pretend you were full.
“Does it suit your taste, child?”
Leonardo swallowed the rich, tender mouthful and looked up with genuine appreciation.
“Mrs Weasley, this is delicious. Properly satisfying.”
It was not politeness. Molly managed a huge household day after day with magic, and her cooking might not have restaurant finesse, but it carried something better. It tasted like home, simple and warm, the sort of food that made you loosen your shoulders without realising.
“Oh, I’m so glad you like it!”
Molly practically beamed.
Across the table, one of the twins had a pea poised between finger and thumb, lining up a shot at Ron’s nose. Molly’s gaze snapped over. The pea never flew.
Lunch carried on in a cheerful, easy rhythm: plates clinking, laughter breaking out, Ginny quiet but watchful, Ron eating like he had been starved for weeks.
Leonardo’s gaze drifted now and then to the clock on the wall.
It wasn’t a clock for telling time. Nine hands, each tipped with a tiny Weasley face, pointed not to numbers but to words. Most rested on Home.
Only Arthur’s hand sat at Work, while Bill’s and Charlie’s were elsewhere, just as expected.
The other labels were… intriguing.
School. Dentist. Quidditch Match. Missing.
Prison.
Leonardo kept his expression politely neutral, though a remark itched to escape. Instead, he studied the clock with quiet, focused curiosity.
An alchemical device, without a doubt. Contract magic woven into the family itself. Become a Weasley, and you earn a hand. Elegant, practical — unmistakably Weasley.
He would love to take it apart with his mind and rebuild it.
And these days, materials were no longer the problem.
Nicolas had gifted him a birthday bundle so absurdly generous it bordered on indecent, rare stock, deep reserves, and, more importantly, vetted supply lines that made future procurement painless. If Flamel approved a supplier, the quality would be worth trusting.
After lunch, Fred and George invited Leonardo upstairs.
They moved with him, one on each side, shepherding him toward their room like a ceremonial guard.
Ron trailed behind, alert and wary. The twins wore that particular expression everyone in the house recognised, the one that promised “surprise” in the most threateningly cheerful way possible.
“We hope you like it here,” the twins said together.
“We’ve prepared a special Weasley welcome for you.”
They exchanged a look and stepped back, expectant.
Leonardo’s intuition gave a small, polite cough in the back of his mind. He smiled anyway and stepped over the threshold.
A water jug above the doorway tipped.
But what poured out was not water. A beam of light, sharp and eager, streaked down, aimed straight for his hair, the sort of curse designed to humiliate rather than hurt.
It never reached him.
A faint shimmer ran over the surface of a button on his coat, and the beam bent aside at the last instant.
Snap.
It struck one of the twins squarely. Red hair flashed and turned a bright, luminous green.
In the corner of Ron’s vision, the other twin made a distressed noise that sounded an awful lot like laughter.
Before anyone could comment, the second trap triggered.
A broom that had been propped behind the door shot forward, sweeping for Leonardo’s shins with the vicious dedication of a professional leg-breaker.
Leonardo did not even turn his head.
A thin silver bracelet at his wrist glinted once.
The broom hit something invisible and springy, rebounded with a dull thump, and tumbled into the corner where it began to twitch as if offended.
Two or three seconds. That was all.
Leonardo’s pace never changed, as if he had merely walked past a drafty stairwell.
Ron watched from behind with wide eyes, admiration and envy tangling together in his chest. In this house, Ron was always the first victim. The twins did not pick on Ginny much, so their creativity had to go somewhere.
Unfortunately, Ron’s face was the usual landing spot.
“Ha,” Ron said, and then coughed as he tried not to sound too delighted. “George, your hair’s green.”
“Ronnie,” said the green-haired twin with dignity, “you’ve got it wrong. I’m Fred.”
The other twin whistled innocently.
“Oh? If you’re Fred, then who am I?”
They teetered on the edge of a familiar argument.
Leonardo flicked his wand. The green vanished from the twin’s hair as neatly as if it had never existed.
Then he went straight to business.
“I need a favour,” he said. “I’ve got some small items. Once term starts, can you help me sell them?”
He produced several alchemical gadgets, student-friendly pieces, practical, amusing, and safe enough to circulate around Hogwarts without drawing the wrong sort of attention.
The more serious defensive items were for another market entirely.
Fred and George exchanged another look, interest sharpening. They had noticed the way those protective trinkets had triggered without any spoken spell, and they were not the sort to let something like that pass uninvestigated.
“Right,” one of them said slowly, “these are brilliant.”
“But,” the other added, leaning in, “have you got anything that’s more…”
“More for cheering people up,” the first finished, straight-faced.
Leonardo held back the small twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Prank items. They meant prank items.
He had expected that.
“All right,” he said, and pulled out another handful of potions and alchemical tools. Then he opened a little box.
Inside sat a yellow hard sweet dusted with sugar.
“Lemon Sherbets,” he said, pointing at it. “A Transfiguration-based potion in confectionery form. It causes a degree of transformation in the eater. Flavour and appearance can be adjusted.”
He paused, letting the bait dangle.
“If you want the exact effect, try it.”
The twins lit up like someone had handed them a holiday.
One picked up the sweet, turning it between finger and thumb. “I am curious about the taste…”
The other drifted sideways, very casually, toward Ron.
Ron, who had been watching with wary fascination, barely had time to register danger before an arm hooked around him.
His cheeks were squeezed. His mouth was forced open.
The sweet went straight down his throat.
Ron’s eyes bulged.
“You…”
Ginny’s voice sounded from the doorway, perfectly timed.
“Mum sent me to bring you some tea and biscuits…”
Ron’s face contorted as the transformation took hold.
“Ahh! Mum!” Ginny shrieked, on cue. “George has a bear!”
