The next morning.
On a London morning, the air quality was decent—decent by the city's standards, anyway.
Mr. Arthur Weasley was walking through the streets of London with his family.
Arthur was a kindly-looking man.
He had the Weasley family's signature hair color, bright red as fire.
He was tall and a little balding, wearing striped trousers, with sweat beading on his head.
Behind him came his wife, Molly, along with the mischievous twins, Ron, and Ginny.
There were six of them in all.
The twins' older brother, Percy Weasley, had gone ahead to Diagon Alley as a Prefect, taking their owl and other things with him.
Arthur and Molly strolled through the streets of London with the children.
Dewey sat in a family-run café, watching the family approach from the street corner.
Seeing their hair color as though it had been copied and pasted, Dewey took a sip of coffee and praised the Weasley family.
The Weasley family truly was the only hope for the Pure-blood Families.
Among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, few families still had such a strong hereditary trait.
Mr. Arthur Weasley walked along with his wife, his twins, and two younger children. Mr. Weasley kept up his boundless curiosity, constantly looking around and observing Muggle life.
He never would have imagined that two notorious Azkaban prisoners were sitting openly inside a café, eating breakfast.
Dewey drained the last of his coffee, shoved the ketchup-covered sandwich beside him into his mouth, then crunched noisily on his fries.
"Junk food is my favorite thing in the world. Have some, Black. We won't be able to do whatever we want for a while after this."
Dewey said to Sirius.
He opened his mouth wide and stuffed in fries and sandwich.
Sirius stared fixedly at the family outside, thinking through their next move.
"Peter Pettigrew is on that freckle-faced kid?
If we don't find Peter, do we search the twins?"
Even Sirius couldn't tell which of the twins was George and which was Fred, despite staring at them for ages.
"Right.
And don't ask me which twin is which.
I don't know either.
Even their mother can't tell those two troublemakers apart, let alone which one is older.
I just know those two poor sods are definitely hiding some nasty tricks.
So remember the order of our targets.
The Weasley couple, the twins, and only then the two little ones."
"Got it."
Sirius stuffed two pieces of chocolate into his mouth and quietly gripped the wand hidden in his sleeve.
Dewey mumbled through his food and waited for the right moment.
Sirius was restless. The thought of catching Peter Pettigrew and clearing his name made him impatient to act.
Dewey, by contrast, wasn't in any hurry.
He waited until the family had passed the café before paying and heading outside, his steps light.
As they walked out, the Weasley family had their backs to them. Mr. Weasley told a joke, and the twins laughed enthusiastically.
Facing this cheerful family, Dewey drew his wand without hesitation.
"Lovely weather."
Dewey said to himself.
"Stupefy!"
Dewey drew his wand and cast the spell nonverbally. Arthur Weasley didn't even have time to react before he collapsed unconscious!
They were close by.
When Mrs. Weasley saw her husband suddenly fall, she instinctively drew her wand. Sirius rushed out too, roaring as he fired three Stupefy spells at Mrs. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley deflected two of the spells, but the third struck her, and she fell unconscious to the ground.
One of the spells she had deflected hit a passerby nearby. The unfortunate person crashed to the ground with a thud, taking quite a fall.
"Housewives are better than Hit Wizards at the Ministry of Magic."
Dewey remarked as he watched Molly deflect two spells.
While Sirius attacked, Dewey was busy too. After casting Piertotum Locomotor on himself and Sirius, he fired Stupefy at the twins. Those two troublemakers were quick-witted. As soon as Sirius and Dewey made their move, they pulled out some of their favorite toys.
They didn't use their wands.
The Ministry of Magic strictly regulated underage wizards' spellcasting. Their wands were all fitted with restrictions.
Outside school, the Ministry would know what spells these students had used, and when and where they had used them. For breaking the rules, the Ministry might reprimand them for a minor offense; for a serious one, snap their wands and expel them. For an even graver offense, they would be sent to Azkaban.
Yes, you read that right. They would be sent to Azkaban.
There was no middle ground between expulsion and being sent to Azkaban. From the lightest punishments to the more serious ones, there was no in-between.
The British Ministry of Magic had only one prison: Azkaban. Minor offenders and hardened criminals were treated alike, all thrown into Azkaban.
The difference was that prisoners guilty of lesser crimes weren't watched too closely by the Dementors on the beach. Serious criminals like Dewey, Bellatrix, and Sirius were thrown into the gloomy fortress, where they were tormented until they took their own lives. The lesser offenders, meanwhile, struggled to survive in Azkaban.
Of course, the Ministry's laws weren't quite so unreasonable.
Young wizards could use their wands when their personal safety was at stake. But the Ministry's administration was both rigid and flexible. After a young wizard used magic, whether they had broken the law was left to the jury to decide.
No one knew what the Ministry's jurors would do.
George and Fred didn't cast any spells.
The two brothers pulled out several of their prized possessions.
"Dungbombs."
"Stink Toads."
"Screaming Dolls."
These were the things they usually used for pranks. Now, the twins were clearly trying to stop Dewey and help their parents, brother, and sister escape.
Ginny fumbled in a panic. Ron pulled out his new wand—after his old one had finally snapped in two, Arthur had at last bought him a new one.
Fourteen inches, willow, Unicorn Hair.
He was able to draw his new wand so quickly because he had spent every waking hour handling it, treasuring it. He had even planned to show Harry and Hermione his new wand.
But before he could show it off, he found himself in this situation.
Instinctively, Ron pulled out his wand and gave a slight flick of his wrist.
He recited the incantation.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The Levitation Charm.
It was the first spell that came to mind when his thoughts went blank.
Before Dewey could attack Ron, George or Fred—sorry, even Dewey couldn't tell what was different about the twins—one of the troublemakers hurled a Dungbomb at Dewey's shield.
The Dungbomb didn't splatter against Dewey's shield.
It bounced off and splattered all over Ron.
The stench sent the poor kid's spell veering off course.
No one knew where the spell went.
Ron passed out.
Hogwarts forbade the two troublemakers from playing pranks partly to maintain discipline at school, but more importantly, because George and Fred's pranks were highly dangerous.
The stench from a Dungbomb didn't just cling to someone for a week, leaving them smelling foul.
More importantly, Ron caught a whiff of the Dungbomb and vomited.
Worse still, his face quickly turned livid, and he began to suffocate.
"Ron!"
One of the twins only had time to shout Ron's name before he was struck by a spell. Under the attack of the two Azkaban prisoners, all six Weasleys soon lay unconscious.
"Find Scabbers!"
Dewey shouted to him. Ron reeked horribly, but Sirius cast Aguamenti and rushed over anyway.
"No, the rat isn't here! I saw before the fight—nothing escaped from the boy!"
Sirius's expression turned grim. He hadn't expected the rat not to be on the boy.
"What do we do?"
He asked Dewey.
"Go with plan two. Quickly, quickly!"
Dewey said.
The people nearby began screaming. Dewey and Sirius rushed over and robbed them of all their money and magical items.
They found the Marauder's Map on George or Fred.
"All right, let's go!"
Dewey gave the unconscious people a few punches, then left!
From start to finish, it had taken them only about two minutes. Once they were done, the two Apparated away, fleeing as fast as they could.
If ambushing the Hit Wizards at night had gone unnoticed, then attacking the Weasley family in broad daylight on a London street was like slapping the Ministry of Magic in the face right in front of everyone.
Even if Dewey thought the Ministry's people were all fools, the entire wizarding world wasn't. Make too much of a scene, and someone would catch them and make them pay.
Two trails of black smoke vanished from the street.
People screamed and fled as the stench of dung spread through the street.
Soon, people arrived.
Thanks to the twins, nobody could get anywhere near. As soon as they approached, their eyes filled with tears, and they couldn't see a thing.
The Dungbombs were just too smelly!
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