*AN: Hi! It's me. I just keep forgetting to do a little disclaimer
thing.. I lied in the beginning- I do own something! Zoë and Lone are
mine (they will be introduced soon) and Gavin Georgeson belongs to me!
GAVIN: Pssshh! You forgot me?
ME: Sorry!
GAVIN: All right, first I lose my boyfriend and then you forget about-
ME: -Just be quiet. The good people want to read the chapter.
GAVIN: You may have created me, but you don't own me! Mwa hahahaha!
ME: Do you WANT to be in this story again any time soon?
::Silence::
And, finally...
~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER FOURTEEN~*~*~*~*~
2:15 PM. STANDING OUTSIDE.... Bum bum bum...
JORDAN AND SONS, FLOWER SHOP.
It was a fairly large building, next to the fudge shop in Diagon
Alley. From the outside, it looked promising. There were large, moving
apparitions: a bouquet that put itself together and wrapped a bow
'round itself before bursting into tiny hearts, petals that fell from
the awning down to the cobblestone walk, and doves flying back and
forth, calling to each other.
Romantic crap that Hermione would (hopefully) adore. I had
written her address on a piece of parchment and stuck it inside my
pocket that morning. I was ready.
I stepped inside the store, and looked around. There were
flowers everywhere, with a shelf full of chocolate boxes and stuffed
animals. Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans came in giant tins as well as
little sacks, and there were cards for every occasion. I was just
about to pick up a card from the slot labeled 'Naughty', when-
"What can I help you with?" a loud voice exclaimed.
I turned around, and found myself looking into the eyes of a
short black guy with poofy dreadlocks and very white teeth.
"Lee Jordan?" I questioned, remembering a guy from Hogwarts who
was pretty crazy and looked just about the same, except shorter.
The man laughed. "Nope, but don't worry. I get that all the
time. I'm Lee's twin, Lone. I transferred to Beaux Batons when I was
in first year, because they were starting a new program that helped
Squibs get on track."
Squib?
I glared at him.
He shifted, laughing nervously. "I'm cured now!" he blurted out
triumphantly.
"Well, thank Lord Voldemort for that," I said crisply.
At the name, he tried to fake a smile. "Uhhh- you know my
brother, sir? Maybe you'd better let him help you!" He edged backward
and shouted," LEE! YOU COVER THIS ONE, MAN!"
He ran to the back door of the shop, and shut it behind him.
It happens.
"What's going on? Oh... Malfoy." Lee appeared from behind a case
of roses. "What do you want?"
"Is that how you treat your customers?" I smirked.
"Not usually. What do you want, and make it quick. I'm goin' on
lunch in five." He pointed to his watch.
I ambled forward. "Oh, Jordan. Don't you want to reminisce?" I
held out my arms dramatically, sneering. " The years we shared...
Remember all of the times Slytherin beat Gryffindor at quidditch, or
how about when your two loserly, poor best friends dropped out to open
a stupid joke shop? Ah, yes, those were the days."
To my surprise, Jordan just smiled right back. "Did you 'ear
what he said about you?" he yelled to what appeared to be a closet.
Is he insane?, I wondered.
"Yes," replied the closet," though it is quite hard to hear in
this thing. Did he say 'loserly' AND 'poor'?"
"Think he did," the closet agreed.
The door creaked open, and out came two red-haired guys, each
clutching brooms.
"Hullo, Malfoy, old chap!" shouted one, coming over and cuffing
me merrily on the shoulder.
"How's the evilness going?" inquired the other, picking up my
hand and giving me a brisk shake.
"Off me!" I commanded, backing up. Lee Jordan grinned.
One of the twins, whom I took to be Fred for no particular
reason except that when he shook my hand I noticed he wore a gold ring
that had the initials FW on it, stared at me. "Uncanny."
I eyed him. "What's that, Weasley?"
"You look just like him."
Lee nodded. "He does indeed."
"Scary," shivered the one who seemed to be George.
"WHAT?" I demanded. "WHO?"
"Where?" asked Fred.
"When?" inquired George.
"Why?" mused Jordan, scratching his chin.
"In't obvious, then?" George answered me. "You look exactly like
your mad old daddy."
My face burned. "I do not!" I hollered.
"Even more so now."
I took in an angry breath. "Look, Weasley... Er.. Weasleys, I
don't have time to play games with flea-bitten Muggle lovers."
Fred laughed. "An' he took that line straight from his father,
too! That's what good old Lucius called Dad that time in the book
store, before Dad kicked the stuffing out of his tarty face!"
"Do tell me you're kidding!" I declared. "My father gave yours a
mean bruise he'd never forget, and he was quicker with his words- you
know it! Your father's pride was hurt because he works as a little
idiot dusting off Muggle teapots and mine gave him what for!"
"Didn't Lucius go mad?" questioned Jordan, rudely ignoring the
truth of my words.
"Oh, yes!" George grinned. "As a loon, didn't he, dearest
Draco?"
"Does he sit in corners and rock back and forth, wearing your
mother's underwear?" Fred asked, interested.
"NEVER talk about my mother's underwear again!" I screamed.
"Was it the pair you got her?" asked George.
"WHAAAT?"
Fred, George, and Lee burst into hysterical laughter.
Fred snorted. "Hermione Granger told us that you were shopping
at the little panty-shop downtown Diagon, and you were buying sexy
things for your folks. Perverts, are they?"
"Y- I mean, no! Mother just gave me a list, and all that it had
was- pajama stuff, and-"
"Tell us, Malfoy. Was it for you?" whispered George.
"OH, DAMN IT ALL!" I shouted. "NO! NO! IT WAS NOT FOR ME! LEAVE
ME ALONE! JUST HELP ME PICK OUT A BLOODY BOUQUET AND LET ME GET THE
HELL OUT OF HERE! OH BLOODY, MISERABLE HELL!!!"
All three of them stared at me, open-mouthed.
Fred turned to Lee. "I think he's bonkers, too," he whispered.
"RAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" I screamed.
"Harassing the customers again, are you?" came yet another
voice. "I told dad the three of you together on the same shift was
quite stupid."
A girl of about twenty-five walked toward our little group. If
my mouth wasn't dry from shouting, I would have whistled loud and
clear. She was extremely gorgy, with night-coloured skin and short
hair. "All right, mate, whatchu need, then?" she demanded.
"Right.. I'm looking for a bouquet that will say 'You are so
hot, I want you'. Do you think you can help me..." I looked at her
name tag. "Zoë?"
She grinned. "Sorry, bloke. Don't think you're my type."
I paled. "I meant-"
"-I know, mate. Just kidding! But you aren't, y'know?" Zoë
smiled wryly and laughed.
"Meet my cousin," Jordan nodded, gesturing to the woman.
"You're all just a bundle of fun," I snapped, a bit hurt that I
could ever be told that I was not someone's type. Who would resist
Draco L. Malfoy? No one.
This girl must be a compulsive liar.
The Terror Twins and Jordy took a break from harassing me to let
Zoë tend to my flowering needs. After I answered some questions about
Hermione's personality (not revealing her name, of course), we decided
upon white roses (classy and sophisticated) in a bouquet with a dark
blue (independent) ribbon. When she picked them up, they would explode
into a bunch of hearts, like the flowers showcased in the window, and
then appear again, ready to be put in a vase.
After I had paid, I could not help but inquire about the twins'
joke shop business, which must have gone dry.
"So, Fred," I began, nodding to the one with the ring.
"I'm not Fred. He is," he stated.
"What? Then why in the heck do you have a ring with the initials
FW?"
He chuckled. "Because it's funny!"
I sighed. "Anyhow!!! GEORGE, then. How is your joke business
going? You know, the one you left school for?" I reminded. "It seems
to me, not to be rude or anything, but it seems to me like it must be
suffering quite badly... You know, with you working at a-" I dropped
my voice- "family- owned flower shop, n'all."
The twins looked at each other and grinned.
"Actually," replied the real Fred," it's going excellently. If
you didn't notice, my ring (which George is wearing) is made of real
gold. And take a look at this watch, Malfoy, you little snot!" He
laughed. "I'm not showing off, but you've underestimated the power of
jokes. Business sky-rocketed when we first began and it's even busier
now. We have five businesses in different parts of Britain, and soon,
our first American location will be opening in Salem."
It was now the time for MY mouth to hang open. Rich Weasleys?
Couldn't be. It was unheard of! Preposterous! Horrible!
I snorted. "If business is going so well, then answer my first
question? Why are you working here?"
Lee shifted from his place against the wall. "They've got enough
employees to cover for them, right? And when we had a shortage in
workers, they agreed to join the Jordan family team!"
"Oh, I'm touched!" George cried. Fred sniffled into a
handkerchief.
"And," Zoë continued from where Jordan left off," we exchange
and work for them. If you didn't notice, this business is thriving,
too." She smirked at me. "Now, sir, where will this bouquets be
going?"
"Excuse me?"
"I need the address, Mr. Malfoy."
Oh, no. I had to think, and fast. What would the Weasley twins
do if they knew that I was sending flowers to Hermione? They would
tell Ron, that's what! Tell Ron, or TELL HERMIONE!! No.. NO! ANYTHING
BUT THAT! It would ruin the plan, defy the purpose, totally shatter
the beautiful Saving Prefect Granger. I could not let that happen.
"Uh.. I'm going to deliver it by hand!" I exclaimed, deciding
quickly that Hermione must be at work anyhow, so it would not matter.
Zoë looked confused. "Why would you do that? I thought this was
anonymous?"
"It is! She's at work!"
"All right... "she trailed off, handing me the plastic-wrapped
bouquet.
George winked. "So, who is she, Malfoy?"
"No one you know," I lied briskly, turning to leave.
"Is he gone?" inquired Lone, peeking out from the back area.
That was when I realised it.
"Oh my..." I trailed off. "Twins! TWINS!" I shrieked, pointing
frantically.
When I looked to my left, I saw Fred and George, smiling in just
the same way. When I looked to my right, I saw Lee Jordan, and Lone
behind him, and they looked JUST alike! ALL TWINS!
In terror, I ran from the shop. It was just like a Muggle horror
film, I'm telling you.
3:16. IN FRONT OF HERMIONE'S APARTMENT COMPLEX WITH FLOWERS IN HAND.
'Draco,' I said to myself, sneering. 'You are a genius, and she
will ADORE you.'
I walked up the stone steps to the porch, which had an emerald
green doormat and a rectangular postbox attached to the wall, so the
owls would have easy access, I suppose.
I looked into the side window, leaning over the edge of the
stone porch railing. Good. No one in sight. I placed the flowers
upright in the mailbox, whistling loudly.
The door rattled.
"Aaaaah!" I hollered, and grabbed the flowers, putting them
behind my back, and edging to the side.
There came the sound of keys jangling, and a voice shouted,"
OY!"
And it was no female voice.
The door swung open. A man peeked out. "OY! What're you doing?"
"Ummmm... Do you live here?" I inquired, backing up.
He paused. "I believe I know you," he stated pompously. He
stepped out of the doorway.
That was when I recognized the voice. I hadn't heard it for
nearly three years. I looked at him a moment, and between the ironed
suit pants, the crisp, white shirt and the gray tie, I realized
something:
"I believe I know you, too."
thing.. I lied in the beginning- I do own something! Zoë and Lone are
mine (they will be introduced soon) and Gavin Georgeson belongs to me!
GAVIN: Pssshh! You forgot me?
ME: Sorry!
GAVIN: All right, first I lose my boyfriend and then you forget about-
ME: -Just be quiet. The good people want to read the chapter.
GAVIN: You may have created me, but you don't own me! Mwa hahahaha!
ME: Do you WANT to be in this story again any time soon?
::Silence::
And, finally...
~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER FOURTEEN~*~*~*~*~
2:15 PM. STANDING OUTSIDE.... Bum bum bum...
JORDAN AND SONS, FLOWER SHOP.
It was a fairly large building, next to the fudge shop in Diagon
Alley. From the outside, it looked promising. There were large, moving
apparitions: a bouquet that put itself together and wrapped a bow
'round itself before bursting into tiny hearts, petals that fell from
the awning down to the cobblestone walk, and doves flying back and
forth, calling to each other.
Romantic crap that Hermione would (hopefully) adore. I had
written her address on a piece of parchment and stuck it inside my
pocket that morning. I was ready.
I stepped inside the store, and looked around. There were
flowers everywhere, with a shelf full of chocolate boxes and stuffed
animals. Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans came in giant tins as well as
little sacks, and there were cards for every occasion. I was just
about to pick up a card from the slot labeled 'Naughty', when-
"What can I help you with?" a loud voice exclaimed.
I turned around, and found myself looking into the eyes of a
short black guy with poofy dreadlocks and very white teeth.
"Lee Jordan?" I questioned, remembering a guy from Hogwarts who
was pretty crazy and looked just about the same, except shorter.
The man laughed. "Nope, but don't worry. I get that all the
time. I'm Lee's twin, Lone. I transferred to Beaux Batons when I was
in first year, because they were starting a new program that helped
Squibs get on track."
Squib?
I glared at him.
He shifted, laughing nervously. "I'm cured now!" he blurted out
triumphantly.
"Well, thank Lord Voldemort for that," I said crisply.
At the name, he tried to fake a smile. "Uhhh- you know my
brother, sir? Maybe you'd better let him help you!" He edged backward
and shouted," LEE! YOU COVER THIS ONE, MAN!"
He ran to the back door of the shop, and shut it behind him.
It happens.
"What's going on? Oh... Malfoy." Lee appeared from behind a case
of roses. "What do you want?"
"Is that how you treat your customers?" I smirked.
"Not usually. What do you want, and make it quick. I'm goin' on
lunch in five." He pointed to his watch.
I ambled forward. "Oh, Jordan. Don't you want to reminisce?" I
held out my arms dramatically, sneering. " The years we shared...
Remember all of the times Slytherin beat Gryffindor at quidditch, or
how about when your two loserly, poor best friends dropped out to open
a stupid joke shop? Ah, yes, those were the days."
To my surprise, Jordan just smiled right back. "Did you 'ear
what he said about you?" he yelled to what appeared to be a closet.
Is he insane?, I wondered.
"Yes," replied the closet," though it is quite hard to hear in
this thing. Did he say 'loserly' AND 'poor'?"
"Think he did," the closet agreed.
The door creaked open, and out came two red-haired guys, each
clutching brooms.
"Hullo, Malfoy, old chap!" shouted one, coming over and cuffing
me merrily on the shoulder.
"How's the evilness going?" inquired the other, picking up my
hand and giving me a brisk shake.
"Off me!" I commanded, backing up. Lee Jordan grinned.
One of the twins, whom I took to be Fred for no particular
reason except that when he shook my hand I noticed he wore a gold ring
that had the initials FW on it, stared at me. "Uncanny."
I eyed him. "What's that, Weasley?"
"You look just like him."
Lee nodded. "He does indeed."
"Scary," shivered the one who seemed to be George.
"WHAT?" I demanded. "WHO?"
"Where?" asked Fred.
"When?" inquired George.
"Why?" mused Jordan, scratching his chin.
"In't obvious, then?" George answered me. "You look exactly like
your mad old daddy."
My face burned. "I do not!" I hollered.
"Even more so now."
I took in an angry breath. "Look, Weasley... Er.. Weasleys, I
don't have time to play games with flea-bitten Muggle lovers."
Fred laughed. "An' he took that line straight from his father,
too! That's what good old Lucius called Dad that time in the book
store, before Dad kicked the stuffing out of his tarty face!"
"Do tell me you're kidding!" I declared. "My father gave yours a
mean bruise he'd never forget, and he was quicker with his words- you
know it! Your father's pride was hurt because he works as a little
idiot dusting off Muggle teapots and mine gave him what for!"
"Didn't Lucius go mad?" questioned Jordan, rudely ignoring the
truth of my words.
"Oh, yes!" George grinned. "As a loon, didn't he, dearest
Draco?"
"Does he sit in corners and rock back and forth, wearing your
mother's underwear?" Fred asked, interested.
"NEVER talk about my mother's underwear again!" I screamed.
"Was it the pair you got her?" asked George.
"WHAAAT?"
Fred, George, and Lee burst into hysterical laughter.
Fred snorted. "Hermione Granger told us that you were shopping
at the little panty-shop downtown Diagon, and you were buying sexy
things for your folks. Perverts, are they?"
"Y- I mean, no! Mother just gave me a list, and all that it had
was- pajama stuff, and-"
"Tell us, Malfoy. Was it for you?" whispered George.
"OH, DAMN IT ALL!" I shouted. "NO! NO! IT WAS NOT FOR ME! LEAVE
ME ALONE! JUST HELP ME PICK OUT A BLOODY BOUQUET AND LET ME GET THE
HELL OUT OF HERE! OH BLOODY, MISERABLE HELL!!!"
All three of them stared at me, open-mouthed.
Fred turned to Lee. "I think he's bonkers, too," he whispered.
"RAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" I screamed.
"Harassing the customers again, are you?" came yet another
voice. "I told dad the three of you together on the same shift was
quite stupid."
A girl of about twenty-five walked toward our little group. If
my mouth wasn't dry from shouting, I would have whistled loud and
clear. She was extremely gorgy, with night-coloured skin and short
hair. "All right, mate, whatchu need, then?" she demanded.
"Right.. I'm looking for a bouquet that will say 'You are so
hot, I want you'. Do you think you can help me..." I looked at her
name tag. "Zoë?"
She grinned. "Sorry, bloke. Don't think you're my type."
I paled. "I meant-"
"-I know, mate. Just kidding! But you aren't, y'know?" Zoë
smiled wryly and laughed.
"Meet my cousin," Jordan nodded, gesturing to the woman.
"You're all just a bundle of fun," I snapped, a bit hurt that I
could ever be told that I was not someone's type. Who would resist
Draco L. Malfoy? No one.
This girl must be a compulsive liar.
The Terror Twins and Jordy took a break from harassing me to let
Zoë tend to my flowering needs. After I answered some questions about
Hermione's personality (not revealing her name, of course), we decided
upon white roses (classy and sophisticated) in a bouquet with a dark
blue (independent) ribbon. When she picked them up, they would explode
into a bunch of hearts, like the flowers showcased in the window, and
then appear again, ready to be put in a vase.
After I had paid, I could not help but inquire about the twins'
joke shop business, which must have gone dry.
"So, Fred," I began, nodding to the one with the ring.
"I'm not Fred. He is," he stated.
"What? Then why in the heck do you have a ring with the initials
FW?"
He chuckled. "Because it's funny!"
I sighed. "Anyhow!!! GEORGE, then. How is your joke business
going? You know, the one you left school for?" I reminded. "It seems
to me, not to be rude or anything, but it seems to me like it must be
suffering quite badly... You know, with you working at a-" I dropped
my voice- "family- owned flower shop, n'all."
The twins looked at each other and grinned.
"Actually," replied the real Fred," it's going excellently. If
you didn't notice, my ring (which George is wearing) is made of real
gold. And take a look at this watch, Malfoy, you little snot!" He
laughed. "I'm not showing off, but you've underestimated the power of
jokes. Business sky-rocketed when we first began and it's even busier
now. We have five businesses in different parts of Britain, and soon,
our first American location will be opening in Salem."
It was now the time for MY mouth to hang open. Rich Weasleys?
Couldn't be. It was unheard of! Preposterous! Horrible!
I snorted. "If business is going so well, then answer my first
question? Why are you working here?"
Lee shifted from his place against the wall. "They've got enough
employees to cover for them, right? And when we had a shortage in
workers, they agreed to join the Jordan family team!"
"Oh, I'm touched!" George cried. Fred sniffled into a
handkerchief.
"And," Zoë continued from where Jordan left off," we exchange
and work for them. If you didn't notice, this business is thriving,
too." She smirked at me. "Now, sir, where will this bouquets be
going?"
"Excuse me?"
"I need the address, Mr. Malfoy."
Oh, no. I had to think, and fast. What would the Weasley twins
do if they knew that I was sending flowers to Hermione? They would
tell Ron, that's what! Tell Ron, or TELL HERMIONE!! No.. NO! ANYTHING
BUT THAT! It would ruin the plan, defy the purpose, totally shatter
the beautiful Saving Prefect Granger. I could not let that happen.
"Uh.. I'm going to deliver it by hand!" I exclaimed, deciding
quickly that Hermione must be at work anyhow, so it would not matter.
Zoë looked confused. "Why would you do that? I thought this was
anonymous?"
"It is! She's at work!"
"All right... "she trailed off, handing me the plastic-wrapped
bouquet.
George winked. "So, who is she, Malfoy?"
"No one you know," I lied briskly, turning to leave.
"Is he gone?" inquired Lone, peeking out from the back area.
That was when I realised it.
"Oh my..." I trailed off. "Twins! TWINS!" I shrieked, pointing
frantically.
When I looked to my left, I saw Fred and George, smiling in just
the same way. When I looked to my right, I saw Lee Jordan, and Lone
behind him, and they looked JUST alike! ALL TWINS!
In terror, I ran from the shop. It was just like a Muggle horror
film, I'm telling you.
3:16. IN FRONT OF HERMIONE'S APARTMENT COMPLEX WITH FLOWERS IN HAND.
'Draco,' I said to myself, sneering. 'You are a genius, and she
will ADORE you.'
I walked up the stone steps to the porch, which had an emerald
green doormat and a rectangular postbox attached to the wall, so the
owls would have easy access, I suppose.
I looked into the side window, leaning over the edge of the
stone porch railing. Good. No one in sight. I placed the flowers
upright in the mailbox, whistling loudly.
The door rattled.
"Aaaaah!" I hollered, and grabbed the flowers, putting them
behind my back, and edging to the side.
There came the sound of keys jangling, and a voice shouted,"
OY!"
And it was no female voice.
The door swung open. A man peeked out. "OY! What're you doing?"
"Ummmm... Do you live here?" I inquired, backing up.
He paused. "I believe I know you," he stated pompously. He
stepped out of the doorway.
That was when I recognized the voice. I hadn't heard it for
nearly three years. I looked at him a moment, and between the ironed
suit pants, the crisp, white shirt and the gray tie, I realized
something:
"I believe I know you, too."