Chapter 3
"Troublesome Customers"
Winston's Apothecary became a small ray of sunshine in the otherwise morbidly depressing life of Harry Potter. Ginny had been pressuring him to get a job – even going as far as to get him the paperwork to apply for muggle identification, so she was delighted when he told her he'd begun to work at the apothecary down the street.
If Ginny had been expecting Harry to revert back to his old self the second he found a job, she was sorely disappointed. Harry stayed very much the same, with the lone exception that he now left his apartment six days a week to work for a few hours in the shop. Ginny had tried to draw him further out of his shell, but he seemed content with his progress and would have none of it.
Still, Ginny was relieved that he was getting a bit of income. The Potter fortune had gone to paying his medical bills, and he'd refused to accept the money the ministry had offered him as payment for defeating the Dark Lord. Well, to be exact, he took the money and then turned around and donated it to a charity. He didn't keep a single knut. The very meager amount of money left in the Potter vault was enough to pay his dirt cheap rent each month, and ensure he had enough food, but not much else. Now that he was working, Ginny didn't have to worry about him skipping meals or going without simply because he didn't have the money.
But things had improved. Harry got up each morning, washed, dressed, and ate a good breakfast. He kept the apartment a bit cleaner. He kept the curtains open when the sun was shining outside. Ginny had even caught him sitting on his porch enjoying the afternoon breeze. It had only been once, but it warmed her heart.
Unfortunately, most things remained the same. Harry was still depressed. He was still irritable most of the time. He smoked like a chimney, and now he had taken to drinking alcohol whenever he had phantom pains. Ginny couldn't really get mad about it. She'd seen him when he was suffering, and as long as he wasn't drunk all the time, she couldn't begrudge him his peace. He took no interest in sprucing up his pitiful apartment or contacting any of the people that still cared about him. He wasn't concerned with repairing bridges he'd burned.
Hermione was one. Ginny understood why she had left England. She and Ron had been engaged, and when he was killed and it was thought Harry would never recover, she just couldn't take it. She moved to the states and eventually married someone else – a muggle, if Ginny remembered correctly. She was a librarian in a small town, and was quite happy. She wrote to Harry faithfully, even though he had never replied to a single letter. Ginny tried to keep her updated, and while she didn't lie and say Harry was doing wonderfully, she didn't guilt Hermione either. The way she saw it, Hermione deserved happiness just as much as Harry did. To hear about how miserable Harry was wouldn't do a damn thing for either of them.
And Ginny didn't feel Harry's progress was significant enough to bring her mother to visit him. In her old age, Mrs. Weasley had became a bit…unbalanced. Most days she was fine, but then something would set her off, and she'd think they were still in the war and that her children and her husband had died all over again. Ginny didn't want to risk Harry's depression sending Molly into one of her relapses. So, Ginny continued to be the only person Harry saw outside of the apothecary.
Beyond telling Ginny he'd gotten a job at the place, Harry didn't say much about it. In fact, he was suspiciously tight lipped on the subject. Naturally, Ginny decided a visit while he was at work was in order.
She nearly walked right past the place. It looked as though they never got any customers, which was why, she supposed, that Harry took the job. Had the shop been flooded with people, he never would have gone.
Harry didn't seem surprised to see her.
"Hi, Ginny," Harry said, a weak smile coming to his face. It was the first time he'd smiled at her in ages. It caused her to light up like a Christmas tree. She knew she was probably grinning stupidly, but she just couldn't help it.
"Hey, Harry. So this is the place, huh?" She asked brightly, looking around as if she were in a rock star's bedroom rather than a dingy apothecary.
"Yeah, this is it. Did you need a potion?" Harry asked in a voice that suggested she was going to have to buy something in exchange for peeking in on him while he was at his job.
"Hmmm…" Ginny brought a finger to her chin, looking around contemplatively. Then she lifted her nose in the air, pretending to be a persnickety customer. "Well, I'm very hard to please, but we'll see what you can do. Let's see…do you have any Skele-Gro?" She asked. She realized she actually needed some because one of her patients required it and the hospital was running low.
"Mr. Pudgy?" Harry questioned. Ginny was perplexed until a fat cat ambled into view. He mewed at her, then ambled down one of the long shelves in the shop. Curious, Ginny followed him after a hesitant glance at Harry. He only smirked.
Mr. Pudgy was pointing his tail at something. Ginny grinned in surprise when she realized he was showing her where the Skele-Gro was. She laughed, then bent over and patted the cat.
"What a delightful cat!"
"He's my boss."
"What?" Ginny asked flabbergasted. Harry was grinning, and it was infectious.
"Just what I said – I work for the cat. Mr. Pudgy works for Winston, who owns the shop."
Ginny giggled. She couldn't help it. Obviously Harry thought it was amusing as well. Still smiling, she scooped Mr. Pudgy up in her arms. The cat purred happily.
"I think your boss is cute, Harry."
"Most of the customers do."
"And what about customers…do you have a lot of them?" Ginny asked. Harry shrugged.
"Regulars only. Older witches and wizards mainly."
"Has anyone recognized you?" She asked carefully, hoping it wouldn't cause Harry to clam up. He smiled as he shook his head.
"Nope. Not a single one. To be honest, they all seem a bit…batty. They all have a lot of money, and they think I'm Winston's grandson or something. None of them can get my name right, either. I've worked here for two weeks, and Winston still keeps calling me Gary."
Ginny smiled as she put Mr. Pudgy down on the counter and let Harry ring up her purchase. She was a bit surprised at the price.
"Are you sure, Harry? That's not much."
"Winston sets the prices. I don't know why, but he gets most of his supplies for brewing free. Almost everything is priced really low here."
"Do you mean to say Winston brews all these potions himself?"
Harry didn't seem to see what was so special about that. Mr. Pudgy was looking very smug.
"Well, yeah. 53 bottles of everything. Part of my job is to check for stuff that's about to expire and pull it from the shelves. Then I tell Winston what he needs to re-stock. Why – don't all apothecaries brew their own stuff?"
"No, Harry, they don't. Most apothecary owners are business men – not potions masters. They order their potions from various outside sources. They're also considerably more pricey."
"Oh, well, all the stuff here is brewed by Winston. I guess that's why he needs so much time off. I never really thought about it." Ginny had a contemplative look on her face.
"Harry…would you mind if I told my supervisor about this place?"
"No…why?"
"Because my wing in the hospital could save a lot of money by ordering from someone local that doesn't jack the price up. It seems we're always short on potions because of budget issues."
"Sure, go ahead." Ginny got the distinct impression Mr. Pudgy was smiling at her.
"Okay then. Well, I have to get back to work, but thanks! I'll tell my supervisor and see what he says. See you later, Harry!" Ginny left, purchase in hand, and Harry went back to staring at the muggles walk obliviously past the shop. Mr. Pudgy mewed.
"Why would he be mad? I thought we wanted to get customers," Harry replied without really thinking. Then his eyes went wide, and he looked at the cat suspiciously. "Wait. How did I understand you?"
Mr. Pudgy was staunchly silent. He only flicked his tail in a preoccupied way and began to casually lick a paw. Harry wondered if he was going crazy.
Winston was rather miffed when Harry informed him the hospital had placed a very large order.
"I didn't mean to upset you. I thought more customers would be a good thing…" Harry trailed off helplessly. Mr. Pudgy was sitting on the counter, watching Harry and Winston discuss the issue.
"We have customers, Gary. 53 of them, to be exact. No more and no less."
Mr. Pudgy meowed.
"What on earth do you mean, Mr. Pudgy? We have 53 – not 54," Winston corrected automatically.
"Err…the friend from the hospital bought some Skele-Gro a while back," Harry admitted hesitantly.
Winston looked highly perturbed.
"Oh, I suppose all this is my fault. I should have told you. I'm very…exclusive about my clientele. Friends only. I completely forgot that your friends would now be able to see the shop as well. I have exactly 53 friends, so that's the number of potions I stock at all times. Didn't Mr. Pudgy explain this to you?"
Harry shot a look at Mr. Pudgy.
"No. He didn't say anything. Ginny picked him up, and he seemed to really like her."
Winston rolled his eyes.
"She was pretty, wasn't she? Mr. Pudgy, you womanizer! I can't believe you'd break the rule for the first pretty miss that walks in the door. You, my good sir, are a furry traitor!"
Mr. Pudgy didn't look insulted in the least.
"Now what hospital placed the order?"
"St. Mungos, the wizarding hospital. Ginny works with the children. She said we had good prices, and she wanted to tell her boss because they're always short on potions because of budget issues."
Mr. Churchill sighed heavily.
"Children, did you say?"
Harry nodded.
"And these children aren't getting the potions they need?"
"I guess they get them one way or another. Ginny paid for the Skele-Gro out of her own pocket."
Mr. Pudgy mewed. Harry still didn't have a clue what he was saying, or if he was even really talking at all.
"Well, yes, Mr. Pudgy. I'm not heartless. I suppose I do have much more time on my hands now that young Gary works for us…" He seemed to be debating the issue in his head. "Alright, you may tell the hospital their order will be filled by the end of the week. But please ask they not spread the word about our establishment. This will be enough change for a very long while."
Harry smiled.
"Thanks, Winston. The children, and their parents, will really appreciate it."
Mr. pudgy meowed.
"Don't talk to me you turncoat. You don't care about the children at all – you just want this Ginny girl to come back and coddle you some more. You should be ashamed of yourself, you old dog."
Mr. Pudgy did look a little irritated at that one. His tail straight in the air, Mr. Pudgy retreated to the back storage room in a huff. Winston disappeared to his rooms above the shop with an equally irritated air.
Reminding himself that he had taken the job voluntarily, Harry locked up the shop and began to head home.
A/N: Snape will make his entrance soon, but I'm not sure how. Or exactly when. Or what he's going to do once he gets there. But I do have something planned for the next chapter that's going to make your heart feel all warm and fuzzy.
