The Day Starts With a Bang
It was a typical early Thursday morning in late July at 93 Diagon Alley or as typical as any day at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The store was not going to open for another hour, but the Weasley twins never turned any prospective customers away even at the most ungodly hours. They themselves remembered the agony at the inability to pull off some stunt or blow off some test, because of missing or ineffective equipment. George had sold some bloke a few snackboxes to at three in the morning so the poor fellow to wriggle out of an Auror exam. Fred, being a kind and considerate brother, had naturally spiked George's coffee with a new "experiment" and was chuckling behind his newspaper when George finally staggered down a bare twenty minutes before they opened shop.
"Hey, George," he said.
"Mmmm," George cursed inaudibly as he stumbled over a capped cauldron and pulled himself into a seat. The kitchen was also a makeshift laboratory and was filled with strange concoctions.
"Would you like some coffee, my wonderful brother." He offered him the cup. Bleary-eyed, George grabbed it and took a long sip.
Fred peeked over his paper and waited expectantly. George swallowed. Nothing. Nothing bloody happened.
George's mouth suddenly puckered, threw himself forward, and spat. Thirty- two slobbery gold teeth hit the mahogany table with a clink. There was a hiss and each tooth emitted a small strand of steam before melting into gold coins.
"Pretty neat, isn't it?"
"Mumph." George mumbled enthusiastically
"mah eeth?" George asked.
"Well, I haven't figured that out yet." George's mouth dropped and Fred could see his bare gums.
"Mumph." George growled and launched himself at Fred. Fred grabbed the kitchen door and swung it open, hitting George in the nose. There was a thud of George hitting the floor, but Fred didn't look back as he fled down the stairs.
George apparated at the bottom of the stairs.
"Now, George," Fred said soothingly," we'll figure it out somehow." George took a menacing step forward and Fred scrambled back.
The doorbell rang and after a final glare George went off to answer it. Fred beat him to it by apparating. He opened the door quickly trapping poor George in between the wall and glass door.
A small, rumpled, and sea-sick looking teenage girl stood on the doorstep. She was wearing a wrinkled light metallic blue business suit and a matching hair tie which was hanging precariously to a few hairs. She was carrying a small silver suitcase. Her hair was hanging in thin limp curls. Though it was only 8: 20, the summer heat was already beginning to make itself noticed. In the background, there was a distant bang of the Knight Bus.
"You are one of the Weasley brothers," she said softly. She was gripped the doorframe with white knuckles.
"Yes. I'm Fred," Fred pointed to himself and that's George," he rapped on the glass and George tried to dislodge himself, unsuccessfully. Fred cleared his throat and began to sing in a horrible, off tune baritone.
"Welcome to Weasley's Wheezes
We aim to please
All your vicious desires--" George dislodged himself and tackled Fred. He pulled a thermos out of his blue silk pajamas and forced the contents down Fred's throat. There was a spray of coffee and gold teeth and coins. Fred grabbed at the coins which disappeared with a soft pop. As each coin disappeared a tooth reappeared in his mouth. George dashed upstairs to regain his teeth.
"Can we help you?" Fred asked. The girl opened her mouth to say something and then doubled over and puked all over the floor. "Accio Puking Pastilles." Breaking off the purple half, he offered it to her. "Scourify," he waved his wand to clean the mess.
Then in a very gentlemanly manner, he picked her up and carried her into the backroom which was used for signing contracts with important customers. She blushed vividly the whole time. He put her on the white suede couch.
"So, do you feel better?"
"Much, thanks." She spoke with a slight American accent and even with her light brown her and blue eyes, there was something exotic about her. "Oh." Her cerulean eyes widened suddenly and she giggled. Fred turned around.
It was George and he had his teeth back, but they were arranged oddly.
"I am going to beat the pulp out of you, you bloody git." George snarled.
"What's your name?" Fred asked the girl.
"Mignonne Davis. I--I," she stuttered and blushed again. "Well. I saw an ad in the paper about your shop and well I like inventing stuff too."
"Oh, really. What?" Fred asked brightly. George sulked grumpily. Somehow it seemed to be a breach of etiquette to pound his brother in front of girl.
"Beauty products." Fred visually dropped.
"You should try Madame Jolie down the street." George said brusquely and cracked his knuckles.
"Well." She opened her suitcase and pulled out a small container. "Mr. George?"
"No, it's Fred." Said the crooked-tooth twin.
"He's pulling your leg." Said the straight tooth twin.
"Will the twin with the mismatched teeth please try this?" She opened it and offered him what looked like a mint.
He ate it.
"Peppermint," he breathed and his bed head hair flattened. His crinkled pajamas smoothed out and the circles under his eyes diminished slightly. He smiled and Fred guffawed. George's teeth were straight now, but a very light shimmering purple. George frowned and Jeanette gave him a small mirror.
"This should bleach them back." She said, she handed him a small perfume bottle. "Spray it into your mouth."
George didn't even hesitate. After so much self-testing, it can become routine to use strange products on oneself.
"I--well, I'm from the Salem Witch Institute. Well, I used to go there and while I created beauty products, I stumbled over some other things. I was hoping to sell some of them to you so I could open my own shop."
"We're a joke shop." Fred told her gently. She smiled sheepishly. "It sounded like a good plan on the bus." She looked as if Christmas had been canceled. She stood up.
"Let's see what you got." George said soothingly.
She opened the suitcase on her lap and began pulling vials out of the suitcase and putting them on the low coffee table in front of her. The twins realized that case had been magically expanded on the inside. There was bottles of tonic of halitosis, body odor, essence of acne, essence of boils, something to turn teeth purple, and a funky mossy green liquid. "Highly flammable," she said. She also had a foot of parchment with illusion spells that changed facial features, added expenditures, and etc. After setting out the wares, she shut the suitcase and put it on the floor. She looked up at the Weasley twins hopefully.
"Those illusion spells," Fred said, picking up the parchment," how do you use them?"
"You can anchor them onto a solid object. Metal works well and so does glass, but plastic doesn't. Most cloths will take it, except the Muggle synthetic kind." Fred nodded.
George prodded the bottle of what looked like pond scum. It tipped over, hit the ground, and began glow.
"Get down," Jeanette shouted and they all jumped behind the couch. There was a earth shattering explosion and a cloud of vile green smoke. They peeked over the edge of the couch. There was a smoking five foot crater in the ground, the table was reduced to toothpicks, and the ceiling was charred. The whole front of the couch was gone.
"Damn and we damage-proofed the whole house. Blimey, that's only a pint if we could purify the stuff, Fred. Just think." George turned to Jeanette. "We'll buy the whole lot off of you for 100 galleons." Jeanette gaped.
"Two hundred and we'll let you keep the rights to use it yourself. That's our final offer." Fred said. They shook on it.
"We've been needing some part-time help. Are you interested about working for us? I know you want to open a beauty shop, but maybe you work just for the summer. Keep shop for a few hours a day and spend another few in the lab. Maybe six sickles an hour, room, board, and use of our lab."
"I don't know--" inside Jeanette was already weakening. She didn't know where to stay, she didn't have much money or at least not in a form that was not suspicious, she had to develop more products.
"Seven sickles." Said George.
"That would be wonderful."
"You're hired, Miss Davis. Welcome onboard."
It was a typical early Thursday morning in late July at 93 Diagon Alley or as typical as any day at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The store was not going to open for another hour, but the Weasley twins never turned any prospective customers away even at the most ungodly hours. They themselves remembered the agony at the inability to pull off some stunt or blow off some test, because of missing or ineffective equipment. George had sold some bloke a few snackboxes to at three in the morning so the poor fellow to wriggle out of an Auror exam. Fred, being a kind and considerate brother, had naturally spiked George's coffee with a new "experiment" and was chuckling behind his newspaper when George finally staggered down a bare twenty minutes before they opened shop.
"Hey, George," he said.
"Mmmm," George cursed inaudibly as he stumbled over a capped cauldron and pulled himself into a seat. The kitchen was also a makeshift laboratory and was filled with strange concoctions.
"Would you like some coffee, my wonderful brother." He offered him the cup. Bleary-eyed, George grabbed it and took a long sip.
Fred peeked over his paper and waited expectantly. George swallowed. Nothing. Nothing bloody happened.
George's mouth suddenly puckered, threw himself forward, and spat. Thirty- two slobbery gold teeth hit the mahogany table with a clink. There was a hiss and each tooth emitted a small strand of steam before melting into gold coins.
"Pretty neat, isn't it?"
"Mumph." George mumbled enthusiastically
"mah eeth?" George asked.
"Well, I haven't figured that out yet." George's mouth dropped and Fred could see his bare gums.
"Mumph." George growled and launched himself at Fred. Fred grabbed the kitchen door and swung it open, hitting George in the nose. There was a thud of George hitting the floor, but Fred didn't look back as he fled down the stairs.
George apparated at the bottom of the stairs.
"Now, George," Fred said soothingly," we'll figure it out somehow." George took a menacing step forward and Fred scrambled back.
The doorbell rang and after a final glare George went off to answer it. Fred beat him to it by apparating. He opened the door quickly trapping poor George in between the wall and glass door.
A small, rumpled, and sea-sick looking teenage girl stood on the doorstep. She was wearing a wrinkled light metallic blue business suit and a matching hair tie which was hanging precariously to a few hairs. She was carrying a small silver suitcase. Her hair was hanging in thin limp curls. Though it was only 8: 20, the summer heat was already beginning to make itself noticed. In the background, there was a distant bang of the Knight Bus.
"You are one of the Weasley brothers," she said softly. She was gripped the doorframe with white knuckles.
"Yes. I'm Fred," Fred pointed to himself and that's George," he rapped on the glass and George tried to dislodge himself, unsuccessfully. Fred cleared his throat and began to sing in a horrible, off tune baritone.
"Welcome to Weasley's Wheezes
We aim to please
All your vicious desires--" George dislodged himself and tackled Fred. He pulled a thermos out of his blue silk pajamas and forced the contents down Fred's throat. There was a spray of coffee and gold teeth and coins. Fred grabbed at the coins which disappeared with a soft pop. As each coin disappeared a tooth reappeared in his mouth. George dashed upstairs to regain his teeth.
"Can we help you?" Fred asked. The girl opened her mouth to say something and then doubled over and puked all over the floor. "Accio Puking Pastilles." Breaking off the purple half, he offered it to her. "Scourify," he waved his wand to clean the mess.
Then in a very gentlemanly manner, he picked her up and carried her into the backroom which was used for signing contracts with important customers. She blushed vividly the whole time. He put her on the white suede couch.
"So, do you feel better?"
"Much, thanks." She spoke with a slight American accent and even with her light brown her and blue eyes, there was something exotic about her. "Oh." Her cerulean eyes widened suddenly and she giggled. Fred turned around.
It was George and he had his teeth back, but they were arranged oddly.
"I am going to beat the pulp out of you, you bloody git." George snarled.
"What's your name?" Fred asked the girl.
"Mignonne Davis. I--I," she stuttered and blushed again. "Well. I saw an ad in the paper about your shop and well I like inventing stuff too."
"Oh, really. What?" Fred asked brightly. George sulked grumpily. Somehow it seemed to be a breach of etiquette to pound his brother in front of girl.
"Beauty products." Fred visually dropped.
"You should try Madame Jolie down the street." George said brusquely and cracked his knuckles.
"Well." She opened her suitcase and pulled out a small container. "Mr. George?"
"No, it's Fred." Said the crooked-tooth twin.
"He's pulling your leg." Said the straight tooth twin.
"Will the twin with the mismatched teeth please try this?" She opened it and offered him what looked like a mint.
He ate it.
"Peppermint," he breathed and his bed head hair flattened. His crinkled pajamas smoothed out and the circles under his eyes diminished slightly. He smiled and Fred guffawed. George's teeth were straight now, but a very light shimmering purple. George frowned and Jeanette gave him a small mirror.
"This should bleach them back." She said, she handed him a small perfume bottle. "Spray it into your mouth."
George didn't even hesitate. After so much self-testing, it can become routine to use strange products on oneself.
"I--well, I'm from the Salem Witch Institute. Well, I used to go there and while I created beauty products, I stumbled over some other things. I was hoping to sell some of them to you so I could open my own shop."
"We're a joke shop." Fred told her gently. She smiled sheepishly. "It sounded like a good plan on the bus." She looked as if Christmas had been canceled. She stood up.
"Let's see what you got." George said soothingly.
She opened the suitcase on her lap and began pulling vials out of the suitcase and putting them on the low coffee table in front of her. The twins realized that case had been magically expanded on the inside. There was bottles of tonic of halitosis, body odor, essence of acne, essence of boils, something to turn teeth purple, and a funky mossy green liquid. "Highly flammable," she said. She also had a foot of parchment with illusion spells that changed facial features, added expenditures, and etc. After setting out the wares, she shut the suitcase and put it on the floor. She looked up at the Weasley twins hopefully.
"Those illusion spells," Fred said, picking up the parchment," how do you use them?"
"You can anchor them onto a solid object. Metal works well and so does glass, but plastic doesn't. Most cloths will take it, except the Muggle synthetic kind." Fred nodded.
George prodded the bottle of what looked like pond scum. It tipped over, hit the ground, and began glow.
"Get down," Jeanette shouted and they all jumped behind the couch. There was a earth shattering explosion and a cloud of vile green smoke. They peeked over the edge of the couch. There was a smoking five foot crater in the ground, the table was reduced to toothpicks, and the ceiling was charred. The whole front of the couch was gone.
"Damn and we damage-proofed the whole house. Blimey, that's only a pint if we could purify the stuff, Fred. Just think." George turned to Jeanette. "We'll buy the whole lot off of you for 100 galleons." Jeanette gaped.
"Two hundred and we'll let you keep the rights to use it yourself. That's our final offer." Fred said. They shook on it.
"We've been needing some part-time help. Are you interested about working for us? I know you want to open a beauty shop, but maybe you work just for the summer. Keep shop for a few hours a day and spend another few in the lab. Maybe six sickles an hour, room, board, and use of our lab."
"I don't know--" inside Jeanette was already weakening. She didn't know where to stay, she didn't have much money or at least not in a form that was not suspicious, she had to develop more products.
"Seven sickles." Said George.
"That would be wonderful."
"You're hired, Miss Davis. Welcome onboard."