I woke up to the sound of an owl picking at my window. I opened up a window and the owl landed on my desk. It had a small, uneven piece of parchment for me.

"Becca!

Jim is down with influenza. Could you help me in the shop?

Z"

I immediately put some clothes on and headed down for breakfast. After a cup of tea and some toast I grabbed a book I was currently reading and headed for Zonko's Joke Shop. The shop was pretty small and crammed with stuff. The shelves went all the way up to the ceiling. Mr Zonko was currently restocking the topmost shelves with the help of his wand.

"Becca!" he exclaimed when I entered the room. "Glad you could come!"

"Glad to help" I answered.

"I am sorry to give you such a short notice but… A delivery is coming today and I'll be buried in paperwork at the office before the merge with the Weasleys… Perfect day to have fever!"

"Don't worry I'll take care of the customers" I said. I had worked behind the desk three times before, and more often helped with other tasks. I grabbed a box from the desk. It was filled with Dungbombs.
"Oh be careful with that!" said Zonko. "We once dropped one of those boxes, right before opening hour…"

"I'll be careful" I said starting to restock the shelves. There was three hours before the shop would open. Mr Zonko took care of the shelves out of reach so that I didn't have to climb anywhere. When we were done there was an hour left until opening hour.
"So this was just the boxes we've been procrastinating… The delivery is coming at two o'clock. Could you guide them to the back room? It's the new stuff, so I guess there will be some new bloke as well. I'll be in the office if you need anything. And of course you will be paid for the hours you are here. Just tell me when you want lunch and I'll cover for you."

"Yeah, thanks" I said and sat down at the chair behind the desk. I opened my book, to get the time to pass quicker.

The shop wasn't very busy that day, only around thirty tourist, scattered throughout the day. Hogsmeade was very popular for tourists, one of few all-wizard villages. They wanted to learn about our history, look at views like the shrieking shack and Hogwarts castle, and visit the rare shops you could find here. Since most of them went to Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and it's surroundings were nostalgic tot hem. Like this shop. I looked around. They could really need some more floor space. Where would the Weasley products fit? It had been two weeks since we read about it in the newspaper. It was now the talk of the town. Most gossip was about Mr Zonko's fortune. Some thought he would retire soon and buy a beach house on an island far far away. I hoped not, I would miss him alot. Although I didn't know how old he really was. He had always been old. Even my mum said that. I didn't think he'd ever retire, though. He was still alert and always had a smile on his face. He loved his job at the joke shop. A vision of my future appeared in my mind. I had years of experience from working and helping in shops. When I was older, I could work in one, and later open my own. A bakery maybe. Or a cafe. Maybe I could sell clothes, or books. I'd like that. My daydreams was interrupted by a memory from my last visit to Diagon Alley, two years ago. I was thirteen, and me and mum went to london during one weekend. We were strolling around, and after a while I noticed people were looking at me, in every shop we visited. After a while I realized I was the only child older than 10 on the whole street. When we went into the potion supply store the clerk commented with a sneer. "Why would you need these? These are only for witches!" We were buying a small cauldron and some ingredients for me. I had just begun learning some harmful potions (under supervision of my mother, potion brewing can be dangerous!). My mum tried to explain that people like me actually can brew most potions, since they don't need magic. The woman didn't believe her. Mum left the supplies in the shop and dragged me out of there with anger. We never bought that cauldron. Potions didn't seem fun anymore. I had been so isolated, I didn't even know, at age thirteen, that Squibs were looked down on. I had read hundred of books, but none of them really explained it. I only knew one in about 100 people were born a squib, so we weren't very many. It had never occurred to me we were a minority like all other minorities, and like most of them we were looked down on.

A young man entered the shop. The bells above the door woke me up from my memory, He was carrying a big box and handed me a paper to sign, for a big delivery. It was a wand signature, so I had to get mr Zonko. The deliveryman left two dozen boxes for us, we didn't even have any space in the back room for them.

"I guess I didn't think this through…" Mr Zonko said, rubbing his head. "Where will I store all this? And where could I display them on the shelves?"

"I think you need to reorganize" i said. "Have only a few numbers of each product on display. Some less popular things could be stored at the back, with easy access when someone asks for them? Then you could make room for the new stuff on one wall, maybe?"

"I should have you come by here more often. I could use your perspective on things"

"I can help you" I said, visioning a display for the new products in the corner to the right of the door. "If you want, i mean..:"

"Oh, do you have time? That would be lovely. We'll close the store for a couple of days, make it look nice and then we could have a little re-open-celebration. What do you think? I'm thinking pumpkin pastries."

"Sure. I can reschedule my schoolwork for a couple of days."

"Lovely!" he said giving me a big, warm hug followed by a pat on my back. "You'll get paid, of course, for every minute of your work here. We've done enough for today. Tomorrow we'll begin!"

I left the store feeling excited about the coming days. It had been a long time since I had felt so appreciated