The shop was deserted. Fred was stocking shelves in the back and George was leaning against the counter clicking a pen absentmindedly. Had Diagon Alley always been this quiet? George wondered, peering out of the window of the twins' joke shop, WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZES. It hadn't always been like this. In it's first month the store had brought in quite a hefty profit. But now...
Suddenly, the bell above the door jangled. A hooded figure wandered into the store peering at different things as they slowly swished their way to the counter.
"Hi!" greeted George, "Can I help you?" The figure in the cloak just stood there. It was impossible to see who it was, the hood hung far down the person's front. George suddenly got an incredibly eerie feeling. This figure reminded him alot of the dementors that had guarded Hogwarts during his fifth year. The figure was breathing awfully harshly. If he didn't know any better, George could have sworn the person was having trouble breathing. Fred came from the back of the shop dusting his hands on his pants.
"It's terrible back there. A jar of canary creams fell so we'll have to replace that," he began, before realising he and George weren't the only ones in the shop. "Hello," he said, "Did you need some help at all?"
The hooded figure nodded his head. Well atleast he appeared to be nodding. Suddenly, the door flew open and a huge gust of wind flew through the shop, picking up the hooded figure and throwing him against the wall. Jars fell from the shelves. Glass showered everywhere. Trick wands went off.
Then as quickly as it'd come the wind left, the bell tinkled as the door closed and all was quiet. Fred and George gingerly crept their way over to the figure lying among the broken jars. The person seemed to be unconscious. Fred carefully leaned into the figure and grabbed their hood to pull it up. Suddenly a wand appeared from within the folds of the cloak and was pointed at his chest.
"Don't even think about it!" threatened the figure. Fred quickly pulled his hand back. The wand moved its way up Fred's body to his throat and there it stayed.
Meanwhile, George had slunk into the back of the shop and was looking feverishly for his wand. He searched everywhere, turning over mountains of paperwork and stray tricks all over his desk, but it wasn't there. Where is it? George's thoughts screamed. WHERE is it?
Finally, he found it! George sprinted to the front of the shop with his wand raised.
"That's it! Let him go!" he screamed.....to an empty room. For there was no one there. Not a trace of Fred or the mysterious hooded stranger remained. Nothing.....except a piece of parchment fluttering slighty on the front door.
Suddenly, the bell above the door jangled. A hooded figure wandered into the store peering at different things as they slowly swished their way to the counter.
"Hi!" greeted George, "Can I help you?" The figure in the cloak just stood there. It was impossible to see who it was, the hood hung far down the person's front. George suddenly got an incredibly eerie feeling. This figure reminded him alot of the dementors that had guarded Hogwarts during his fifth year. The figure was breathing awfully harshly. If he didn't know any better, George could have sworn the person was having trouble breathing. Fred came from the back of the shop dusting his hands on his pants.
"It's terrible back there. A jar of canary creams fell so we'll have to replace that," he began, before realising he and George weren't the only ones in the shop. "Hello," he said, "Did you need some help at all?"
The hooded figure nodded his head. Well atleast he appeared to be nodding. Suddenly, the door flew open and a huge gust of wind flew through the shop, picking up the hooded figure and throwing him against the wall. Jars fell from the shelves. Glass showered everywhere. Trick wands went off.
Then as quickly as it'd come the wind left, the bell tinkled as the door closed and all was quiet. Fred and George gingerly crept their way over to the figure lying among the broken jars. The person seemed to be unconscious. Fred carefully leaned into the figure and grabbed their hood to pull it up. Suddenly a wand appeared from within the folds of the cloak and was pointed at his chest.
"Don't even think about it!" threatened the figure. Fred quickly pulled his hand back. The wand moved its way up Fred's body to his throat and there it stayed.
Meanwhile, George had slunk into the back of the shop and was looking feverishly for his wand. He searched everywhere, turning over mountains of paperwork and stray tricks all over his desk, but it wasn't there. Where is it? George's thoughts screamed. WHERE is it?
Finally, he found it! George sprinted to the front of the shop with his wand raised.
"That's it! Let him go!" he screamed.....to an empty room. For there was no one there. Not a trace of Fred or the mysterious hooded stranger remained. Nothing.....except a piece of parchment fluttering slighty on the front door.