HH_mirror

George,

Sure, yeah. Are you having a party or something?

-Jim

((Reposted for icon!))

From:

Jimbo,

More like a casual gathering of friends to mourn my lack of common sense when it comes to the fairer sex. Or, you know, my total zero chance at getting a shag.

There'll be snacks! And possibly hard alcohol of some kind.

--G to the izzle

From:

George,

Uh, okay. Sounds awesome, in a "sorry your love life sucks" kind of way.

I'll bring something by.

-Jim

From:

J-dawg,

Should be, should be.

Smashing. See you later.

--Ice, Ice George

From:

G Thang,

Yes to the Muggle Malady line. I suggest adding crisps that give you a hantavirus, or perhaps rectal prolapse, whichever is funnier.

No to the not leaving pants lying about. Expect to see several pairs on your pillow, as well as one just inside the door. Who's the company, and should I prepare a Dungbomb-and-Whiz-Bang (http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizworld/wheezes.html#wildfire_whizbangs) welcome?

--F Pop

From:

F-bomb,

Brilliant. And rectal prolapse is always funnier. How about caramels that give you malaria?

Fine. But you won't know which one of them will have wart-powder and which will simply have that Shrinking Salt scattered in a sensitive area.

Hey, there's a thought. What if we sold boxers with Shrinking Salt already in place? An innocent gift to give to a bloke right before you break up with them!

Oh, it's just Sirius and Jim. Although they'd appreciate the Whiz-Bangs. I just thought it'd be nice to have a manly evening. You know, with the food and the...manly...

Fuck it. Remember that bird I went out with? Well, it was rubbish and I apparently made her mad and now I'm begging for advice.

--G-pizzle

From:

G String,

The caramels are a good idea. I also recommend lattes that give you lazy eye.

You put Shrinking Salt in my pants and I shall put Ballooning Balm in yours. Small bollocks are a shame; big bollocks are a bloody blight!

Hmmm, you're right, there's definitely a new product line in there! We could also add pants that include Pustule Paste and a hair-growing lotion of soms sort.

Jim the Jew? Excellent, I've been wanting to meet him. Think he might want a Kosher Kreme? With just the smallest hex that might turn his eyes purple?

It'll be good to see Sirius again. There's a roll of lice-growing loo paper that I've been meaning to show him.

Also: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Ickle Georgie had a bad date? What did you do - give her a dozen Rain-in-Your-Face Roses? Or a box of Fever Fudges? Come on, out with it. Can't help you till you tell me what you did!

F Word

From:

F Stop,

Not bad, not bad. What about pasties for heart palpitations? Juice for lockjaw?

My bollocks don't need any help. And Shrinking Salt probably wouldn't be all that noticeable on yours. Good thing no one wants to see them, yeah?

Hmmm...good thinking. Hair removal might also be an option we could offer. Or wart-powder.

We should definitely offer him a Kosher Kreme. And Sirius also mentioned needing some new Extendable Ears - what do you reckon we give him the deluxe model to try out for us? The ones with the longer range and the camouflage charm? He's dating Harry's mum (which is weird, don't you think?) and she's a Professor, so we can ask him to use it in class and see if it can go unnoticed. Grand selling point, that, if it works.

Oh, you're just brilliantly helpful. A real mate in time of need. Just...sod off and get over here. I'd rather not commit this to any sort of permanent record if you don't mind.

G Spot

From:

WeGeorge-

Thanks for the

I don't want your damn

I'm sorry about

You think this makes

Okay. That wasn't going to work. Buff wound up delivering the following:

George,

No promises.

-Steph

From:

George-

Um. That was supposed to sound like a joke, not a threat. And don’t you dare send Buff back on any sort of magic-doohicky. He ate my pillowcase this morning and is under punishment.

-Steph

From:

Steph,

Duly noted.

Are you

Are we

Did I

Lovely weather this time of year, isn't it?

--George

From:

George,

What do

I can't

I'm not

FUCK. QUILLS.

Sure is. And how about that local sports team we root for?

-Steph.

From:

Steph,

I want to

Why can't we

I think

They're doing quite brilliantly. And insert some rant on area politicians here, don't you agree?

--George

From:

George,

What can you

It's me, I'm so

If you knew

Oh, my, yes. Blah, blah, the real estate market in that hot new neighborhood.

-Steph

From:

Steph,

I want

You're just

I don't care if

Just drove through there last week. In my random mid-line car that I recently purchased.

--George

From:

George,

What makes you think

You don't know anything abo

Say that now but

Speaking of vehicles, how about those gas prices, which may or may not have changed?

-Steph

From:

Steph,

Because I know

Then tell me

Trust me, I'm stubborn as

They certainly are staying the same/going up. I blame the government.

--George

From:

George,

No you

It's not as

Why should

This so stupid

Ah, the government. What do you think of that candidate for that upcoming election-type-thing?

-Steph

From:

Steph,

This is bloody stupid.

Look, I like you. A lot. And whether that is ill advised or this is the wrong way to go about it or...or whatever, I don't care. I like you, all right? And I've bloody never done this before, so I'm bound to make a lot of stupid mistakes. And you'll just have to deal with it. Because I like you, Stephanie Brown. And I'm going to keep owling you and keep sending you things, because I like to imagine that makes you smile. And I'll make an idiot of myself, because your laugh makes my heart stop. And I sound like a sodding girl right now and I don't give a bouncing bowtruckle.

I want to date you. I want to see you again. I want to get to know you, all right? And I'm not going away.

And I haven't the foggiest how you feel about me or any of that, but it doesn't matter. Because now you know.

Here's hoping I didn't just ram my foot in my mouth again.

Cheers.

--George

From:

George-

...A bowtruckle?

-Steph

P.S. You didn't. Your mouth is foot free.

From:

(On the carpet is also a cage (http://www.onlineoriental.com/Merchant2/graphics/00000001/a234t.jpg) with a large, leafy branch (charmed to never die) and a bowtruckle named Steve. Around his neck is a little collar that says so.)

Steph,

Movie night tomorrow? We don't even have to leave the castle.

--George

From:

George,

I'll bring nachos. For me, though. You'll have to work something out for yourself.

-Steph

P.S. Steve. He's um...wow. I'm honestly speechless.

From:

Steph,

Now that is just cold. Just for that, I'm not sharing my popcorn. With extra butter. That's right.

--George

P.S. He's a bowtruckle! He eats wood lice. Don't worry, though, he'll make do with brown rice.

From:

George,

Popcorn. As in, popped corn? Way to slack on your duties there, Weasely.

-Steph

P.S. Oh, I believe everything you just said. Doesn't make him any less... 'o_O' as the greeks say.

Kind of cute, though.

From:

Steph,

Hey, the butter and salt cancel it out! I checked! There is no nutritional value once you pour enough processed butter product on. Plus, I've been popcorn, once. Does that mean I'm too healthy for you? Perish the thought!

I'm one hundred percent empty calories, baby.

--George

P.S. So he reminds you of me?

From:

George,

You're one hundred percent empty something, that's for sure.

-Steph

P.S. I don't know. Do you often eat wood lice? Because that seriously might hinder any future movie nights. I’m a lice-cist. It’s just how I was raised.

From:

Steph,

I tried to see how that was anything other than a declaration of undying affection, and I cannot. It's quite all right, my dear. My charm and sheer masculine handsomeness are nearly impossible to resist.

--George

P.S. Not so much wood lice, no. But I am rather cute. What kind of impact does that have on movie nights?

From:

George,

Ah, girl troubles. Professor Homsar's probably your best bet for that sort of thing, but I reckon I could give you a tip or two, having had plenty of experience with girls and with girl trouble in particular.

Got some time now? I'm free and could come by. I'd love to see the pranks, as well as pick up a new pair of Extendable Ears (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1231090.html?thread=62870258#t62870258).

-Sirius

From:

Sirius,

Ah. Yes. Well, since I am morally opposed to spending time with Professors outside of detentions (or classes, but only if I absolutely can't help it), I suppose you'll have to do.

Come on by. My mate Jim's stopping by as well, and Fred's here. And I reckon we have a few pairs of ears lying about. I'm working on a set that glow in the dark.

--George

From:

George,

Some professors are worth spending a good bit of time with. I'll just leave it at that. And come on, don't tell me you never found ol' McG to be quite a looker for someone her age....

All right, I'll be by in a wee bit.

-Sirius

From:

Sirius,

...

You're bloody weird, you know that?

Merlin, now I'm going to have nightmares.

--George

From:

In between having some sort of Owl war with Steph (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1370874.html?thread=69494010#t69494010), George simply occupied himself by lying on his bed, tossing a Quaffle up in the air and catching it again. Every so often he'd amuse himself by charming it to make various disgusting bodily noises as it landed in his grip, wondering idly about the saleability of a line of Gross Quidditch Gear.

Hopefully, though, Sirius, Fred, and Jim would be able to offer him advice. Not about the Quidditch pranks. Well, about that, too. But mostly about girls. In specific, what the bloody hell they were thinking. Because George was fairly certain that they could just chuck most of the classes at Hogwarts and instead offer a course into the twisted mind of women and it would be far more useful than, for example, Ancient Runes. Lot of rubbish, that.

((OOC: Posting order George-Fred-Jim-Sirius, so Siri doesn't have to ~~cest~~ sock with herself? XD))

From:

Fred, on the other hand, was far from idle. Instead, he was hunched over a pile of men's underwear on his desk, several vials of potion of varying noxious shades of brown close at hand. A number of containers of paste, powder, flakes, and gel ringed the perimeter of the desk.

"Bloody hell, I - ...oh, oh, wait a moment, wait a moment! Yeeeessssss, there it is, there it is!" Fred turned towards George and held up one finger, which was now covered in hair. "It took about ten minutes to develop, but I think I've finally got the charm that appends the hair-growing lotion to the pants (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1370874.html?thread=69524986#t69524986)."

Fred's eyes had been fixed triumphantly on his finger, but now they flicked over to George. "Oi, cheer up, emo boy! You want my advice? Go on another date with this girl you're mooning over, but this time bring Percy with you. You can't help but look good in comparison next to him."

From:

Jim was pretty well aware that he was way more equipped to give advice on pranks than he was on girls, considering all the... crazy craziness that was going on with him in that arena; but he liked George, and there would apparently be food and drinks to go around (he himself was bringing over a six-pack, just to be sure of that) and who knew, maybe he'd have something. He seemed to do okay with women that weren't named Pam Beesly, anyway. That had to be worth something.

He knocked on the twins' door, then hastily stepped aside -- after checking the floor to either side for traps. He liked the guys, but they were born tricksters, and he didn't trust them as far as he could throw Dwight.

From:

It was always nice to be back in Gryffindor. Sirius had walked through the common room at a rather slow pace, looking around and relishing his surroundings, just because, aside from the suite he shared with Lily, it was the only real place he had known as home.

He came around the corner just in time to spot Jim's quick sidestep. "Nicely done," he remarked, nodding approvingly. "Probably just saved yourself from a Dungbomb attack. Unless, of course, they were anticipating your anticipation of their prank, in which case you're probably due for said Dungbomb attack any second now."

Grinning, he added, "You must be Jim. I'm Sirius. I'd shake your hand, but it's currently holding my wand just in case the Dumgbombs are pointed at me."

From:

Hearing the knock, George pulled himself away from inspecting Fred's hairy finger (not like that, pervs) to answer the door. Grinning at Sirius' comment, he waved them inside. "No worries, mates. Doorstep Dungbomb attacks are so very last year. Now it's all about waiting until people least expect it. Usually involving an after-dinner mint of some kind."

Nodding them into some armchairs scattered about the room, he flopped back on his bed; this time, though, with a pair of boxers and a tube of Pustule Paste. "You blokes want anything to drink? We have soda, Firewhisky, some kind of juice we keep around in case Mum pokes her head in... Whatever you like."

Oh, right, manners. "Er, Jim, this is Fred. The less handsome twin." He beamed over at them. "Fred, this is my mate, Jim the Jew. Please be considerate of his religious preferences." Ta da! Molly would be so proud. "Now, do you reckon we should have the pustules on the arse as well? Or just keep it to a more frontal region?" Important questions!

From:

"Arse pustules are always hilarious, especially the ones that burst at inopportune moments," Fred replied easily, matter-of-factly, and then turned to Jim. "Shalom! It's brilliant to finally meet you. We've also got Crystal Light, and that's got to be kosher." A brief pause, and then, "Well, I dunno about the CL we charmed to make the drinker speak in a squeaky voice, so I'd avoid the...Blast, is it orange or the pink one we charmed to do that, George?"

Before his brother could answer, he waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind, we'll work it out. Come on in - you, too, Sirius, it's good to see you. Have a seat, make yourself at home." Another pause, and then, "Oh, but don't sit on that over there." He gestured to a large purple beanbag chair off in one corner. "It's charmed to bite." Then he pointed to a wooden chair on the other side of the room. "And don't sit in that one either. It's just broken."

From:

Jim grinned at Sirius, a broad, friendly grin. New people, especially new people who weren't Michael or Dwight, were always a blessing. Unless they turned out like Andy. But he was assuming not. "I'm probably doomed," he agreed with a faint sigh. Reaching out with his non-six-pack'ed hand, he pinched Sirius's wand and moved his hand up and down. "I am indeed Jim. It's nice to meet you."

He looked up as the door opened and gave George a nod. "Hey. I brought beer." He held up the aforementioned pack, moving into the room. He gave Fred a similar nod. "Shalom, man." Jim still wasn't Jewish, but there didn't seem to be any harm in keeping that joke up.

He glanced around at the off-limits chairs, then eyed the ones that were still fair game. He opted to lean against a desk, for the time being. "I think I'll opt to skip the pustules for now," he explained.

From:

Sirius was perfectly fine with the floor, especially since it was not an easy task to charm an entire floor to do something nefarious to the arse that rests upon it. Of course, it was quite possible that Fred and George had charmed patches of it, but Sirius figured the odds were pretty good that he'd find a nice, benign, clean patch of floor.

Well, maybe not clean, but Sirius was used to boys' rooms. He walked over to one of the beds and tentatively lowered himself down in front of it. Nearest the beds was the safest place - unless the twins were pranking each other, which was quite possible. Ah well, it was always a crapshoot with Fred and George Weasley.

After a few seconds, he determined nothing was going to happen to him or his arse, and so he settled down, leaning his back up against the bed.

He looked over at George. (Having lived with the twins at number twelve, Grimmauld Place for a summer, Sirius was able to tell them apart - most of the time.) "Right, so toss me a beer and a set of Extendable Ears, and let's hear your girl woes."

From:

Oh, the mistrust! It would have been funny if it hadn't been so warranted. And had they charmed areas of the floor? He couldn't remember, half the time. "The pink," he returned absently, frowning in concentration as he tried to get the timed release right on the back end of the boxers. "Remember, we thought the orange could be the one that made people whistle?" Or was it the other way round?

Beer! "Cheers, mate," George grinned, taking two and tossing one at Sirius. "And the pustules aren't for you. New line of pranks. Very exciting."

A small, long box with a set of the camouflage charmed Extendable Ears was also passed to Sirius, and then George sat back and took a long sip of beer. "Right." Merlin, where to even start? "We went out, yeah? And it went...well." Other than the jumping off of roofs ~~that the mun is too lazy to look up and link, but trust me, it's there~~ and the running away. "We were heading in to the city to see a movie. And then, bam!" A completely puzzled expression on his face, George shook his head slowly. "She was suddenly mad at me and shouting and walking away. And I had to chase after her and apologize, and I'm still not sure what I did."

He looked at Sirius and then up at Jim. "Are all girls this batty?" He really hoped not.

From:

"They are if they're batgirls," Fred interjected with a roar of laughter, settling back into the chair at his pants-piled desk. He hadn't heard the entire story (just most of it - in other words, the entire story sans the embarrassing details), but George had certainly told him enough about Steph for him to be able to make the joke. "I still want to know what you did to make her angry. My money's on slipping U-NO-POO into her drink. That or giving her a bouquet of Crap-Scented Carnations." He looked up at Sirius and then Jim. "From our new Pranking Plant line at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. We've also got Pinching Petunias, Biting Begonias, Rain-in-Your-Face Roses, and Mud-Slinging Marigolds." He grinned widely.

From:

"Nice," Jim told Fred mildly. "Very classy." The twins, they were kind of baffling. On the one hand, nice guys, and very smart with the magic. Especially of the prankster variety, which, well, he appreciated. But... dungbombs? Crap-Scented Carnations? U-No-Poo? Not so much his thing. His stuff was a little more subtle.

But still, nice guys.

"Women can be... tough, sometimes," he admitted to George. "Did... she want to talk at all about it?" If it had been Karen, they would have talked for hours about it.

From:

Sirius simply laughed. "Welcome to the wonderful world of dating a woman, George. Don't try to work out just what happened. You'll just get more confused." He tried to think back to the countless numbers of fights he had had with Lily and how they had ended. "It might be best just to apologise. Over and over. Even if you're not sure what you did. And even that might not help."

He shrugged and smiled darkly. "Women are the most confusing creatures on earth. If I had a choice between taking on a dragon inside a swarm of angry Doxies and fighting with Lily, I'd choose the dragon and the Doxies any day." The sad thing was, Sirius truly wasn't exaggerating.

From:

Lying back in his bed again with a loud grumble towards his twin, George pillowed his head in one arm and tossed the Quaffle up and down idly. "No, wanker," he said. "I didn't do anything. We were just having a chat about London, and I was pointing out all the weird Muggle things, and the next thing I knew she was shouting and storming off. Completely loony."

He missed the Quaffle and it rolled off his fingers, bouncing once on the floor and mooing like a cow. "And she did not want to talk about it. I had to chase after her. She's..." Infuriating? Intriguing? "Nutters."

Turning to look at Sirius, George shook his head. "Then why be with her, mate? I mean, Merlin, she makes me feel like my head is about to explode. No matter what I did, it was wrong! How is that even possible?"

From:

"Wait a moment," Fred interjected. "Let me get this straight. She randomly shouts at you. She gives you a headache. And she thinks everything you do is wrong." He paused, his eyes twinkling just a little bit too much. "George, don't you see? She's Mum!"

And then the big grin came out once more. Oh, it was an apt comparison, but Fred made it mainly because he knew it was also an extremely undesirable one to George.

From:

Jim nodded along with Sirius. Don't try to figure it out, just apologize -- that sounded about right. Then she might... still want to talk for hours, but at least be less angry about it? Or, based on his experiences with ~~Pam 2.0~~ Katie, maybe just want to snuggle a lot.

He was mostly here, he felt, in a listening capacity -- God knew he didn't have a lot of advice to dole out on women -- so he listened to George explain, and when Fred butted in he merely looked over at him. Well, until he said that last part, anyway. Then his brows lifted, his eyes darting to the ~~camera~~ side. "Okay then," he murmured under his breath.

Sadly, George really wouldn't have been the first guy he knew to date someone just like his mother.

From: