"Rodney, man... I swear I didn't mean to!" James cried as he tried to break free of Rodney's tight grasp. Rodney shoved James back harder into the wall. James groaned in pain and again tried to wiggle out of Rodney's grip. "Get.. off .. me!" James yelled from between clenched teeth. He tore his wrist out of Rodney's reach and used it to punch his way around Rodney's neck. Rodney, though a year younger than James, outweighed him by at least fifty pounds and towered over him a good six inches. Rodney avoided James' punch and again slammed his opponent into the wall.
Rodney bared his yellow teeth. "You better watch yourself, Potter. Sticking your nose in other people's business? You think that's funny? Do ya?" Rodney growled menacingly. He jabbed his fat fist into James' stomach, knocking the breath right out of him.
"I.. told.. you!" James gasped. His face was growing hotter by the second and he could feel his arms and legs go numb. He kicked, unsuccessfully, into Rodney's thick arm. James' nostrils flared, his anger rising.
"You stay out of my business, and if you repeat one word of what you heard... you can bet that you won't be alive long enough to go home for Christmas." Rodney opened his fist, James' crumpled robes falling from his hand. James fell to the ground, out of breath. Rodney gave James one final kick in the gut and turned on his heel, walking briskly down the corridor.
James took in huge gulps of air, his eyes stinging. Though Rodney had finished, James still felt the pain of every punch and hit. James closed his eyes, clutched his stomach, and leaned against the wall.
Hermione hummed under her breath as she moved around the large kitchen gracefully. She ran a rag along the gleaming counter top with one hand, and pointed her wand at the sink with her other, the dishes scrubbing themselves clean. Though she was highly skilled at magical charms and spells, once in a while she still enjoyed doing things the Muggle way. Hermione told everyone it gave her a sense of pride, knowing that she could get things done with out magic. Ron called her mad.
"Hugo!" Hermione called as she walked into the living room. Hugo came down the stairs, a toy wand in one hand. "Hugo, come here a second," Hermione said with a smile as she sat down on the couch. She pulled Hugo into her lap and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Mommy has an idea. Do you want to help me?" Hermione asked Hugo. The small boy nodded eagerly. "Okay, here's the plan," Hermione began.
The bell above the shop door chimed. George looked up, surprised. A young man with dark hair came inside, holding a bouncing little girl's hand.
"May I help you?" George asked as naturally as he could. He cleared his throat and stepped out from behind the counter. The man and little girl approached him, both with friendly smiles.
"Yes, my name is Paul Winston, and this is my daughter, Annabelle. Are you George?"
George stuck out his hand to the man. "George Weasley. Nice to meet you," he said cheerfully. "Is there something I can do for you?"
Paul smiled. "Well, Annabelle and I were just wandering around Diagon Alley when we saw a sign for your shop--" Paul began.
George nodded. "Yes, the fifty percent off sign."
Paul shook his head. "No, it was Help Wanted ad. I was wondering what kind of positions you had available?"
George stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Was there a woman holding this sign, perhaps?"
Paul nodded, confused. "And a little boy, about Annie's age. I'm sorry, is there some kind of mistake?"
"No, no, I just need to have a talk with my sister for a moment." George said. "Please, take a look around." He bent down to Annabelle's height. "You can have your pick, for free," he winked. The little girl's eyes twinkled and George gave her a pat on the head. He walked towards the front of the store and looked out the window. He shook his head.
"Hermione, Hermione," George said with a grin. Hermione whirled around, a huge ad in her hands. She turned crimson for a second before speaking.
"George, don't be mad, just let me explain!" She begged. Hugo ran up to George and wrapped his arms around his uncle's legs. George smiled and looked at Hermione. "I was thinking, the other day, about when I was little. Back home with my mum and dad, we had this shop that we loved to visit. It was owned by this sweet old couple. Every week they did this contest for publicity for their shop. They picked customers of the week."
"I don't see what this has to do with telling any old mate on the street that I am hiring," George shrugged.
"Listen, listen!" Hermione prodded. "I was thinking: if you can get one more person to work in the shop with you, customer of the week would be a little easier. You two could pick someone together, someone who would get their photo posted on the store window, and get a free little something from the store. Meanwhile, they would tell all of their friends, creating more business for you!" Hermione finished. completely out of breath. She looked excitedly at George, who was tapping his thumb on his chin. Hermione blushed once more. "I was thinking... maybe you could call the customers of the weeks 'Fred's Favorites'. But, that's just a suggestion!" She explained hastily.
George smiled widely. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around Hermione. "You are the most brilliant woman on this planet, Hermione! I think Sainthood should be passed onto you!" George laughed, tugging on his one ear. Hermione joined in on the laughter, Hugo at their knees pulling on their pant legs.
"What about me? Can't I be a Saint, Mum?" he asked seriously. George and Hermione both laughed and pulled Hugo into their hug.
AW! I'd have to say that this is the chapter I have most enjoyed writing so far! Except for the beginning, of course. I hope you'll notice that my chapter was a little longer this time.. Ha.
Wish
