Chapter One: The Soon to Be Joke Shop Empire
It was an overcast, murky summer day in London. Neville Longbottom and his grandmother had just left the apothecary. They were there buying school supplies for the teen. Already, the alley had been changed drastically by Voldemort's return: the Leaky Cauldron was empty for the first time in Neville's memory, several shops had shut down, and no one looked each other in the eye as the passed in the streets.
The colorful, glittering window displays of spell brooks, potion ingredients, and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden by enormous posters of various escaped Death Eaters. The Ministry still did not recognize the Dark Lord's return, passing the escapes off as the work of Sirius Black, but everyone was frightened, just as they were when Black had first escaped from Azkaban.
But at the end of the alley, one shop was unaffected by the gloom. Weasley and Co.'s windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passerby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Neville's eyes began watering just looking at it.
Augusta Longbottom sniffed in disdain and folded her arms as Neville walked straight for the door, making it clear she had no intention of following him. With an amused shake of his head, Neville pulled on the door and entered the shop. It was packed with customers; Neville could not get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: Here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins and Harish had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; Neville noticed that the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box let on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, and Neville pushed his way toward the counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds were watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: REUSABLE HANGMAN—SPELL IT OR HE'LL SWING!
"Patented Daydream Charms…"
Neville turned to see Hermione, who had managed to squeeze through the crowd to a large display near the counter and was reading the information on the back of a box bearing a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship.
"Hermione!" Neville exclaimed. "How have you been?"
"Good," Hermione replied distractedly. "This here says, 'One simple incantation and you will enter a top quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens.' You know," she said, looking up at Neville again, "that really is extraordinary magic!"
"For that, Hermione," a voice said behind them, "you can have one for free."
A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of forest green robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair. His wand was tucked behind one ear.
"What's happened to your eye, Hermione?" he asked.
"Your punching telescope," she replied ruefully.
"Oh blimey, I forgot about those," Fred said. "Here—"
He pulled a tub out of his pocket and unscrewed it to reveal a thick yellow paste. As he dipped two fingers into the paste and rubbed it onto Hermione's eye, Neville squeezed back through the crowd. Neville hadn't made it further than ten feet before he found himself shunted into the side of someone a good foot taller than him. Neville looked up to see a pair of pale green eyes blinking down at him.
"Harish!" Neville exclaimed.
Harish was wearing a pair of forest green robes as well and had his hands in his pockets. He looked around angrily to see who had shoved him, but then forgot his anger at the sight of a friendly face.
"Good afternoon, Neville," Harish said. "Come on, I'll give you a tour—almost everyone else has already been by."
He followed Harish to the back of the shop, where he saw a stand of card and rope tricks.
"Muggle magic tricks!" he said, pointing them out. "For nutters like Mr. Weasley, you know, who love Muggle stuff. It's not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business, they're great novelties—Fred's idea…Oh, here's George…"
The redhead shook Neville's hand energetically.
"Giving him the tour? Come, through the back, Neville, that's where we're making the real money—pocket anything and you'll pay in more than Galleons!" he added warningly to a small boy who hastily whipped his hand out of the tub labeled EDIBLE MINISTRY SEALS—THEY'LL MAKE ANYONE SICK!
As George pushed back a curtain beside the Muggle tricks, Fred appeared out of the crowd.
"Do you remember our punching telescopes?" he asked George and Harish as they entered a darker, less crowded room.
"Yeah," both replied.
"Apparently we left them in a box in our old room," he said. "Hermione—she's been staying over with Ginny—got punched in the face by one."
George snickered and Harish shook his head.
"Oh, hey, Neville," Fred said, looking at Neville. "Are you giving him the tour?"
"We were," Harish said in annoyance. "Anyway, we've just developed this more serious line."
"Funny how it happened…" Fred said.
"You wouldn't believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can't do a decent Shield Charm," Harish continued to explain.
"—Course they didn't have Harish to teach them," George said.
"And we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh, you know, challenge your friend to jinx you while you are wearing it and watch his face when the jinx bounces right off."
"But the Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff!" Fred exclaimed happily.
"And we're still getting massive orders!"
"You see," Harish explained quietly. "We decided that we want to at least appear neutral to outsiders, so we will be selling to all three sides of the war: Death Eaters, the Ministry, and the Order!"
"And what they don't know," George said in even softer tones, "is that what we are selling to non-death eaters isn't what they want."
"Are you saying that you're selling them faulty products?" Neville asked incredulously.
"Oh, no," Harish dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "We are simply selling them products that don't last as long."
"Where we sell Shield Cloaks to our allies that last at least a decade," Fred said. "The Ministry receive ones that only last through one or two spells."
"Possibly even five!" George added. "If the spells are the most non-lethal in existence."
"And then we thought we would get more into the whole area of Defense Against the Dark Arts, because it's such a money spinner," Fred said enthusiastically. "This is cool. Look, Instant Darkness Powder, we're importing it from Peru. Handy if you want to make a quick escape."
"And our Decoy Detonators are just walking off the shelves," Harish said, pointing at a number of black horn-type objects that were trying to scuttle out of sight. "You just drop one surreptitiously and it'll run off and make a nice, loud noise out of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one."
A young witch with short blonde hair that was also wearing green robes stuck her head into the back room.
"There's a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Misters Weasley and Blake," she said.
"Right you are, Verity," Harish said. "I'm coming."
And the three of them walked out of the backroom. Harish followed Verity off to one side of the shop, Neville left to find his grandmother, and the twins went over to where Ginny and Hermione were standing.
"Haven't you found our special Wonder Witch products, yet?" Fred asked them. "Follow me, ladies…"
Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of girls were giggling excitedly. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary.
"There you go," Fred said proudly. "Best range of love potions you'll find anywhere."
"Do they work?" Ginny asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
"Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours depending on the weight of the boy in question—"
"And the attractiveness of the girl," George butted in. "But we're not selling them to our sister," he added becoming stern. "Not when she's doing well enough with a certain boy we know of."
"When did I ever say I wanted one?" Ginny asked. "I'm fine with Draco. What are those?"
She pointed at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of the cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.
"Pygmy Puffs," Fred told her. "Miniature Puffskeins."
Ginny stuck a finer into the cage and watched as they all crowded around it. "They're cute!" she exclaimed.
"They're fairly cuddly, yes," George said.
Suddenly Ron emerged from the crowd clutching a colorful box.
"How much does this cost?" he asked.
"Five Galleons," both twins replied.
"How much for me?"
"Five Galleons," they repeated.
"But I'm your brother!"
The two glanced at each other before replying in unison, "Ten Galleons."
"But I haven't got five Galleons!" Ron protested.
"And that's our stuff you're nicking," Fred said.
"If you can't cough up," George said, "You'd better put it back, and mind you put it on the right shelf!"
Ron grumbled and slouch away, disappearing into the crowd again. Just then Mrs. Weasley chose to appear.
"Mum," Ginny said at once. "Can I have a Pygmy Puff?"
"A what?" Mrs. Weasley asked warily.
"Look, they're so sweet…"
"Speaking of Draco," Fred said to Hermione. "Have you seen him around here? Harish was wanting him."
Hermione shook her head.
"No," she replied. "Ginny might be able to tell you better, but I get the impression he would have to escape from his parents before he could come here—the shop being run by Weasleys and all…"
"No, problem," George replied. "Come on, Fred," and the two of them headed for the counter, where they hoped to find Harish.
"They seem to be doing well," Ginny said to Hermione once she had convinced her mother to buy the Pygmy Puff.
"Yes, and I wouldn't have believed it until seeing everything they did to Umbridge last year," Hermione agreed.