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“Patented Daydream Charms”
Hermione had managed to squeeze through 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.
“‘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,” said Hermione, looking up at Harry, “that really is extraordinary magic!”
“For that, Hermione,” said a voice behind them, “you can have one for free.”
A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair.
“How are you, Harry?” They shook hands. “And what’s happened to your eye, Hermione?”
“Your punching telescope,” she said ruefully.
“Oh blimey, I forgot about those,” said Fred. “Here…”
He pulled a tub out of his pocket and handed it to her; she unscrewed it gingerly to reveal a thick yellow paste.
“Just dab it on, that bruise’ll be gone within the hour,” said Fred. “We had to find a decent bruise remover. We’re testing most of our products on ourselves.”
Hermione looked nervous. “It is safe, isn’t it?” she asked.
“’Course it is,” said Fred bracingly. “Come on, Harry, I’ll give you a tour.”
Harry left Hermione dabbing her black eye with paste and followed Fred toward the back of the shop, where he saw a stand of card and rope tricks.
“Muggle magic tricks!” said Fred happily, pointing them out. “For freaks like Dad, you know, who love Muggle stuff. It’s not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business, they’re great novelties… Oh, here’s George…”
Fred’s twin shook Harry’s hand energetically.
“Giving him the tour? Come through the back, Harry, that’s where we’re making the real money… pocket anything, you, 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 Dark Marks—They’ll Make Anyone Sick!
George pushed back a curtain beside the Muggle tricks and Harry saw a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued.
“We’ve just developed this more serious line,” said Fred. “Fu
“You wouldn’t believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can’t do a decent Shield Charm,” said George. “’Course, they didn’t have you teaching them, Harry.”
“That’s right… Well, we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh, you know, challenge your mate to jinx you while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff! And we’re still getting massive orders!”
“So we’ve expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves…”
“…I mean, they wouldn’t help much against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor to moderate hexes or jinxes…”
“And then we thought we’d get into the whole area of Defense Against the Dark Arts, because it’s such a money spi
“And our Decoy Detonators are just walking off the shelves, look,” said Fred, pointing at a number of weird-looking black horn-type objects that were indeed attempting to scurry 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.
“Handy,” said Harry, impressed.
“Here,” said George, catching a couple and throwing them to Harry.
A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head around the curtain; Harry saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes.
“There’s a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley,” she said.
Harry found it very odd to hear Fred and George called “Mr. Weasley,” but they took it in their stride.
“Right you are, Verity, I’m coming,” said George promptly. “Harry, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge.”
“I can’t do that!” said Harry, who had already pulled out his money bag to pay for the Decoy Detonators.
“You don’t pay here,” said Fred firmly, waving away Harry’s gold.
“But…”
“You gave us our start-up loan, we haven’t forgotten,” said George sternly. “Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask.”
George swept off through the curtain to help with the customers, and Fred led Harry back into the main part of the shop to find Hermione and Gi
“Haven’t you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet?” asked Fred. “Follow me, ladies…”
Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Gi
“There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.”
Gi
“Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question…”
“…and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not selling them to our sister,” he added, becoming suddenly stern, “not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve…”
“Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Gi
“Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher,” said Fred. “Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don’t change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?”
“Yes, I am,” said Gi
She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.
“Pygmy Puffs,” said George. “Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?”
“I dumped him, he was a bad loser,” said Gi
“They’re fairly cuddly, yes,” conceded Fred. “But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren’t you?”
Gi
“It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you,” she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, “not to tell tales about me to these two!”
“That’s three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut,” said Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron’s arms. “Cough up.”
“I’m your brother!”
“And that’s our stuff you’re nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I’ll knock off the Knut.”
“But I haven’t got three Galleons, nine Sickles!”
“You’d better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves.”
Ron dropped several boxes, swore, and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Mrs. Weasley, who had chosen that moment to appear.
“If I see you do that again I’ll jinx your fingers together,” she said sharply.
“Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?” said Gi
“A what?” said Mrs. Weasley warily.
“Look, they’re so sweet…”
Mrs. Weasley moved aside to look at the Pygmy Puffs, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione momentarily had an unimpeded view out of the window. Draco Malfoy was hurrying up the street alone. As he passed Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, he glanced over his shoulder. Seconds later, he moved beyond the scope of the window and they lost sight of him.