Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all
Character Summary:
Harry Potter: wigger
Ron Weasley: Manwhore
Hermione Granger: Drug Addict
Ginny Weasley: trying to break out of the 'good' mold
Fred & George Weasley: underground crack-house owners
Neville Longbottom: vampiric nazi
Draco Malfoy: homophobic emo boy
His thugs: gay
Blaise Zabini: Metrosexual that gets hit on a lot
Severus Snape: self appointed student matchmaker
Once upon a time…in a magical land far, far away…insert crazy sci-fi music here
A young girl of about sixteen opened the door to 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' quickly shutting the door behind her as she took off her oversized sunglasses and jacket hood, making her bushy hair look like an afro.
"You know 'Mione, walking around like that makes you look even more suspicious than if you had just walked in here."
"Shut up Fred, I'm not taking any chances." she scowled.
"You got the money?" he snickered, failing to come off as tough.
"Depends, you got the goods?"
It seems to the untrained eye that the Weasley store makes most of its profits from its many amusing toys. Little do they know that what lies beneath is a flowering crack house, who's number one customer happens to be Miss Hermione Granger. MORE CRAZY SCI-FI MUSIC
"Don't you worry that bushy little head of yours 'Mione, I've got it," he grinned, revealing two rather large paper sacks from under the counter, "I believe that will be 45 galleons."
"FORTY-FIVE? Are you trying to KILL ME? Last time you only charged 20, Fred don't you dare think I wouldn't remember."
"Hermione!" he said feigning hurt, "you're like a sister to me!And you know, even the wizarding world has a little thing called inflation. This is the best deal I have for you I swear."
Scowling, Hermione impatiently threw a velvet bag on the counter, making it clink happily.
"Pleasure doing business with you, darling," Fred grinned again.
Before Hermione got a chance to answer a bell somewhere upstairs rang, which was followed by the click of high heels, which could only mean one thing..
"MOM! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE THIS EARLY?" Fred said hastily stuffing the paper bags under the counter again, spilling some as he went.
"Well I just thought you might need some help dear-oh goodness Fred really! Don't you two ever clean down here? Beats me what you're doing with flour anyways" she bent down to sweep up the 'flour'
"….MOM DON'T TOUCH THAT IT MIGHT EXPLODE! ITS FOR A NEW……JOKE…THING!" Fred exclaimed throwing a rag over it in panic.
"Are you trying to hide something from me? You KNOW you can't hide anything from me. My mother senses are tingling . . ." Mrs. Weasley said suspicously.
"Well . . . you see . . . " George started, casually covering a pile of drugs with a sheet,
there's a very funny story to explain this. So these--"
"And WHAT exactly were you doing with flour?"
"Mother, it was very rude of you to cut him off like that," Fred stated calmly, hiding some cocaine behind his back.
"Oh hush yourself, child . . . wait . . . my 73rd birthday is coming up . . . insert lightbulb over her head . . . . . . . . NOW" a huge grin spread across Mrs. Weasley's face, resembling the smile of a five year old boy getting that metro-sexual Ken doll that he wanted for Christmas.
"Erm . . . that's. Right . . . " George stuttered, having completely forgotten.
And then the wheels started turning in Fred's head . . .
"THAT'S IT!" Fred shouted, gaining some awkward glances, "Er . . . what i meant to say was, the flour isn't from baking you a cake for your surprise birthday party . . . if that's what you were thinking."
"Oooo!" Mrs. Weasley squealed, "A SURPRISE PARTY!" and then she rushed out of the shop . . . a faint "I have to tell your father!" was heard a few seconds later.
a hushed silence fell over the store
". . . . Shit," and with that, George started banging his head on the crack-covered counter while Fred went to deal with the impatient customers.