Fred and George Weasley stood side by side before the Burrow's fireplace, a gleam of excitement in their identical blue eyes. The faint green shimmer of the floo flames reflected off their faces like the promise of adventure.
It had been years since the last time they'd tried this. The memory still made Fred grin and George wince.
The last time they used the floo network unsupervised, they had meant to visit Cedric Diggory's house for a surprise game of Exploding Snap. But instead of ending up at Cedric's house, they had pronounced it as Cedar Hall — and landed right in the McMillan family's drawing room. Lady McMillan had screamed so loudly that their ears rang for a week, and by the time Mum and Dad dragged them back home, the twins had been grounded for an entire year.
After that, Mum had locked the floo powder in a little wooden box, high up in the kitchen cabinet, far from their reach.
But today — today was different.
Mum had gone to Diagon Alley for grocery shopping, and Percy was on babysitting duty, holding court in the living room as Ron and Ginny sat cross-legged on the carpet, listening with wide eyes as Percy retold the story of Neville Longbottom — the Boy Who Lived.
Fred and George exchanged a knowing look. Percy was the perfect distraction.
Because on the dining table — left completely unattended — sat a small pewter bowl full of shimmering floo powder.
Mum must have forgotten to put it back.
"Perfect," Fred whispered.
"Brilliant," George agreed.
They crept closer, both trying to be quiet, but their excitement made the floorboards creak underfoot.
"You know what this means?" Fred whispered, eyes gleaming.
"Mum will be so impressed when we show up in Diagon Alley by ourselves," George said proudly.
"Exactly! She'll probably—"
"—forget we ever got grounded!"
The two grinned, reaching the bowl at the same time. They each took a handful, glittering dust spilling between their fingers.
"All right," Fred said, puffing out his chest. "I'll go first."
"No way! You went first last time!" George snapped.
"I did not!"
"You did! You got stuck in the McMillans' umbrella stand!"
"That was because you pushed me!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
Before the argument could escalate further, they both shouted at once, "Fine! We'll go together!"
And before reason could intervene, both of them jumped into the fireplace at the exact same moment.
Green fire roared to life around them, swallowing their laughter and shouts.
"Diagon Alley!" they yelled in unison.
For a split second, everything was spinning — colors, soot, and fire merging into a whirlwind. Then, with a loud crash, they tumbled out of a fireplace, face-first onto a marble floor.
When the smoke cleared, Fred coughed and looked around, blinking through the soot.
"Er… this doesn't look like Diagon Alley," he muttered.
George pushed himself up, squinting at the grand chandelier above them. "Fred, where do you think we are?"
"I think…" Fred said slowly, "we're about to be in deep trouble."
They had been to almost every shop in Diagon Alley — from the dusty aisles of Ollivanders to the sweet chaos of Flourish and Blotts — but they had never seen a place like this.
The floor was polished marble, gleaming under golden lights. Enormous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, glittering like captured stars. Rich velvet curtains in shades of deep blue framed tall windows, and every table and chair looked far too expensive to even touch.
Two stunning women stood behind the reception desk, both with long silvery hair and glowing eyes that made Fred and George nearly forget to breathe. They smiled politely — though something about their grace made the twins' knees feel weak.
"What is this place?" George whispered, trying not to stare too obviously.
"Looks like a palace," Fred muttered, then added, "or a trap."
In one corner, a goblin and a wizard were quietly arguing over a parchment, their voices hushed but intense. At another table, a vampire in a sharp black coat was sipping something dark from a crystal cocktail glass — his fangs gleaming whenever the light hit just right.
George nudged Fred and whispered, "Is that—?"
"Yep," Fred whispered back. "That's definitely blood."
Near the stairs, a broad-shouldered man with deep scars across his face was hauling luggage up for a stooped old hag whose eyes glowed faintly red. The twins exchanged a look that said everything: this place was strange.
Nothing in Diagon Alley ever felt like this.
They approached the only person who looked remotely normal — a boy about Ron's height, wearing a dark hooded cloak and holding a tray of drinks.
"Er, hello," Fred said cautiously. "Any chance you could tell us where we are?"
The boy turned, and his eyes — startling green — met theirs. His voice was calm, almost amused.
"You're at the Zeus Hotel," he said simply.
Fred blinked. "Zeus Hotel?"
George frowned. "Never heard of it." Both of them thought fast.
The boy's smile didn't falter. "Welcome to Knockturn Alley."
"Knock—WHAT?!" the twins shouted together.
Heads turned in their direction, and the Veela receptionists exchanged knowing looks.
Fred and George looked around again in disbelief. They had peeked into Knockturn Alley before, every time they visited Diagon Alley with their parents — it had always been dark, grimy, full of smoke and shadows. This… this was nothing like that.
The air smelled faintly of lavender and polished wood. There was laughter, clinking glasses, and a strange feeling of power in the air. It was as though they had fallen into a different world entirely — one hidden behind the Knockturn Alley they thought they knew.
"Fred," George whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I think we're grounded this year as well."
Fred sighed. "I think so too brother of mine."
The boy told them that they could sit on the sofa near the far end of the lobby. His tone was calm and polite, but there was something about him — a quiet composure that made him seem older than he looked.
"I'll be with you shortly," he said, balancing the tray of drinks as he headed upstairs.
Fred and George obeyed, dropping onto the soft velvet cushions. For a while, they just sat there, staring around in disbelief. The Zeus Hotel didn't look like any place they had ever seen in the wizarding world.
The floor was smooth marble that gleamed like a mirror. Gold and silver chandeliers floated from the ceiling, scattering warm light across the room. The scent of polished wood and lavender hung in the air. the two stunning women with silvery hair and eyes that shimmered faintly — beautiful enough to make both twins forget what they were about to say.
Fred nudged George. "Think they're Veela?"
George nodded dreamily. "If they're not, they should be."
In one corner, the vampire in black suit left for upstairs leaving the empty glass behind. The whole place was alive with whispers and strange energy — goblins and wizards talking together as if they were equals.
Everything about this place was strange.
"This can't be Knockturn Alley," George whispered.
Fred frowned. "Then where are we? The Ministry's luxury resort?"
Before they could argue, a pop echoed across the room. A house-elf appeared — but not like any they'd ever seen. This one wore a tiny black suit, white gloves, and shiny shoes, holding a silver-wrapped parcel sealed with green wax.
"I have a delivery for Lord Slytherin," the elf said clearly.
Fred and George's eyes widened in shock.
"Lord Slytherin?" Fred hissed. "That's… bad."
"Really bad," George muttered. "Mum says all Slytherins are trouble."
The elf bowed to the reception desk, handed over the parcel, and vanished. The twins sat frozen, staring at each other.
"Mum's never letting us out again," Fred whispered.
"If we survive this," George added.
Just then, the boy from earlier returned. He set the tray down and smiled as he approached them.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said pleasantly. "I'm Harry Potter. I work here at the Zeus Hotel."
Fred blinked. "Potter? Don't think we've heard of you."
Harry chuckled softly. "That's fine — I'm not anyone special."
He listened patiently as they explained their accident — the floo powder, the shouting, and how they both jumped in at once. When they finished, he simply nodded.
"You can use the same fireplace you came through," he said. "But this time, go one at a time. Say your destination clearly — The Burrow — not Diagon Alley."
"Right," Fred said quickly.
"Got it," George echoed.
They glanced around one last time — at the chandeliers, the Veela, the goblins, and the vampire — and Fred whispered, "When we tell Ron about this, he's never gonna believe it."
One by one, they stepped into the fireplace, tossed floo powder, and vanished in green flame.
When silence settled again, Harry stood by the counter, staring thoughtfully at the spot they had disappeared. A faint smile touched his lips as he muttered, "I can feel it in my bones, they will comeback for sure."
When Fred and George came tumbling one by one out of the fireplace at The Burrow, a thick silence filled the living room.
Ginny was sitting on the couch, her face buried in her hands, crying so hard that her shoulders shook. Ron sat beside her, awkwardly trying to comfort her, though he clearly had no idea how to.
Then, out of the corner of her teary eyes, Ginny saw a flicker of green flame in the fireplace. She turned—and froze.
"F–Fred? George?" she whispered, disbelieving.
Before either of them could say a word, Ginny let out a sob of joy and rushed forward, throwing herself into their arms. She hugged both of them so tightly that neither twin could move.
"I thought—" she choked between tears, "I thought I'd never see you both again!"
Fred and George glanced at each other over the top of her head, their usual smirks replaced by guilt and relief. Fred patted her back gently. "Hey now, no need to cry—see? We're perfectly fine."
George nodded quickly. "Yeah, not even singed. Mostly."
Ron, whose shock wore off a second later, suddenly jumped to his feet and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Mum! Dad! Fred and George are back!"
He ran toward the kitchen, yelling again just in case his first shout hadn't shaken the entire house.
Fred winced. "We're dead."
George sighed. "Completely, utterly dead."
Their fears proved right within seconds. Molly Weasley stormed into the room, her face pale and eyes wide. Arthur followed, his expression a mix of relief and impending doom.
"Oh—my—boys!" Molly cried, grabbing them both into another crushing hug. "Where—where in Merlin's name have you been?! Do you have any idea—"
"Mum, we can explain!" Fred began.
"It was just a small floo mix-up!" George added.
But Molly wasn't listening anymore. Relief gave way to fury as her face turned scarlet. "A small floo mix-up?! You two vanished without a word! Ginny's been crying her eyes out, Percy floo-called the your father at the Ministry, and your father and I have been beside ourselves!"
Fred and George exchanged a nervous glance.
"Grounded?" Fred asked hopefully.
"Grounded," Molly confirmed. "For a month."
"A month?!" George cried.
"Each," Molly added sharply.
Ginny wiped her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips now. Ron grinned too, clearly happy to see his brothers alive and, for once, on the receiving end of a proper scolding.
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