A/N: Hello! It's been awhile hasn't it? I love all you reviewers so much! You make an author so happy. (sobs) Anyway, it's not as long as I hoped, but I think an upload is needed. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling, but Anne is mine!
Chapter Six
Red, mucky bricks moved and shifted into an archway, the entrance to Diagon Alley. Shops lined the walk, packed like large sardines as far as the eye could see, and the place was buzzing with newfound vigor. People felt safe and more playful than ever as they chatted with familiar neighbors they never thought they would see again.
We're healing, Hermione thought as she traversed the alley, noticing a few new shops in place of old shops that had either gone out of business or lost their owners. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor was still open, now run by a nephew and his new wife, and Ollivander's had finally reopened after the old man had taken some time to recuperate from his long captivity.
She made a stop at Eeylops to pick up some owl treats for Pigwidgeon and noticed a snowy white owl perched in a large silver cage. She paused, wondering if it would be a good idea to give Harry such a vivid reminder of Hedwig so soon. She decided she would wait until Harry bought a new companion of his own volition and continued walking at a leisurely pace.
After a few minutes her goal appeared in sight like an explosion. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was still, and probably would ever be, the most flamboyant shop to sit in Diagon Alley. People who passed still stopped in their tracks to gape at the large collection of swirling, swishing, banging, booming, flipping, flying and generally eye-catching display in England. People never got used to it; particularly since Fred and George told Hermione that they changed the display at least twice a day so that if a person passed more than once, his or her eye would be caught once again.
She couldn't help but be dazzled herself for a few moments as she stared at the display window. The center of attention for the first half of the day seemed to be a barrel of circular objects, about an inch in diameter, coming in all colors. The sign above it was black with flashing pink letters that read:
Boyfriend berries and Girlfriend Gum. Need some snogging practice? Try a double!
Hermione raised her eyebrows and snapped out of her stupor before stepping into the shop. The noise hit her like a cannon; mostly due to the fact that an actual cannon had launched a large silver ball as big as her head as soon as she entered the shop. It flew through the air and landed neatly in what appeared to be a black hole hovering towards the ceiling of the shop.
"Customer!" yelled a voice from above and George appeared at the top of the winding wooden staircase Hermione assumed led to their flat. He was wearing the shop uniform of deep purple wizard's robes, the sleeves of which he waved around enthusiastically when he saw who gazed up at him, "Hermione! Welcome back to paradise! OY! FRED! HERMIONE'S HERE!" he bellowed over his shoulder. Hermione chuckled as she stared around the shop, still stymied by how much they had managed to squeeze into so small a place. A small pop was the only warning of Fred's intentions before he apparated directly in front of Hermione and pulled her, squeaking in surprise, into a Hagrid-worthy hug.
"Fred," Hermione said, irritated and touched at the same time, "I can't breathe."
He let her go quickly and took a step back, looking only mildly sheepish, "Sorry. Freedom's gotten to me."
She took in his ecstatic expression and exited blue eyes, "I can see that."
He took her by the elbow, steering her to different parts of the shop, showing her new products, reintroducing revised old products and all the while telling her the general ideas of what the twin's had up their sleeves for their upcoming items. George followed, adding his own input until the cannon resounded again, announcing the arrival of another customer. They stopped for a break towards the back of the shop where the twins kept their DADA products.
"We think that we'll still manufacture protective gear even thought the greatest danger is over," he said, conjuring up two chairs for them to rest on, "We're working on developing disposable wands that contain several counter jinxes in the event that the person has no idea what the incantation is."
Hermione smiled, "I think that's a brilliant idea." She looked thoughtful for a moment, "Have you ever thought about protective jewelry? You know, in case witches don't go for the dark cloak and gloves, they can wear a necklace or a ring that will cast a full-body shield charm over them?" He stared at her for a full minute before disapparating with a pop.
Hermione frowned at the empty space that had a millisecond before contained a Fred Weasley, I hope…I couldn't have offended him. Could I?
Just as she was about to run into the hubbub of the shop to apologize, George threw open the purple curtain behind which she was sitting and pulled her into her second Hagrid-worthy hug of the day.
"You ARE a goddess of brilliance and wonder, Hermione!" George shouted, spinning her carefully around the cramped space. Fred appeared a second later, grinning ear to ear and they said simultaneously, "You're hired!"
I can not believe I agreed to their madness, Hermione thought to herself for perhaps the fifth time. But, they had persuaded her through good arguments and two pairs of puppy eyes, Damn them.
Everything was settled including her wages, hours, and general job description. She would be helping them plot, just a little, as well as participate in maintaining order and checking their charms and spells for any flaws all for a generous hourly fee.
"I can not believe I agreed to their madness," she muttered staring in a horrified manner at the opposite wall, one that contained a large number of Canary Creams, Skiving Snackboxes, and for some reason, a pair of scarlet pumps. She jumped as a large hand fell on her shoulder.
"Believe it love," the hand in question belonged to Fred, "You are officially a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes employee. And it is NOT madness but sheer brilliance that brought my brother and me to that marvelous idea," she gave him a wry look, "Why we can feel our brains expanding just by being in your presence." He gave her his trademark grin, conjured a fluffy 70s bean bag chair and flopped onto it with graceless abandon. Looking at that chair, brighter orange and furrier than Crookshanks, made her feel slightly ill.
She stared at the ceiling instead and repeated with conviction, "Madness."
Fred sighed dramatically and his eyes hit the pair of pumps, "THERE THEY ARE!" He jumped up and grabbed the shoes, looking slightly manic.
"Er…is there something you'd like to share, Fred?" Hermione asked only half joking at the man holding a pair of heels with something akin to reverence and familiarity.
Fred took quick stock of his predicament before giving her a devious look, "Well, I was hoping I'd get to tell mum first before any friends found out. The thing is, Hermione," he looked down guiltily at the shoes, "George is, every full moon, Madame Renalda the renowned, redheaded salsa dancer from Brazil."
A second passed as Hermione and Fred stared at each other, the pair of red heels between them, before they both collapsed in laughter. They were so loud George strode in a moment later to shut them up. One look at Fred's twin, and the visual of George in a form-fitting silky red gown and heels, sent Hermione and Fred over the edge again. George smiled at the two in confusion, gave them a mock-disapproving look, and cast a silencing charm on the curtains before getting back to work. He would ask about this later.
"Merlin!" Fred gasped, clutching his stomach with one hand and wiping away tears of mirth with the other, "Now I know what George's next Halloween costume will be." Hermione let out another weak string of giggles, giddy and weak-limbed from so much hilarity. Fred lifted the pair of shoes with a last watery smile before transfiguring them into a comfy-looking pair of slippers, "This is what they originally looked like. Best slippers I've ever owned. George keeps stealing them and turning them into random pairs of shoes whenever I do something that drives him mad."
Hermione stared at him, smiling, "You two are so odd."
"You know you love it," Fred countered, standing up with a stretch, "Should I show you the ropes then?"
She nodded, sighed, and with a rueful smirk, followed him into the shop.
Laughter from the crisp, green lawn outside the Weasley kitchen announced the arrival of Fred, George and Hermione in a high state of amusement. Molly halted her cooking mania to see the three enter the house, the twins settling their hilarity into mere matching evil grins and Hermione quieting her chuckles more by the second.
"Greetings, mum," Fred started clearly sneaking towards the table topped with a king's feast.
"How are you this fine afternoon?" George finished with a smirk, his attention directed at a tray housing a large collection of éclairs.
"No dessert before dinner," Molly said automatically, charming the French pastries to bite if George got too close, "Did you have a nice visit, Hermione?"
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, it was wonderful. Diagon Alley has bounced back pretty quickly," Hermione said, eyeing the feast with wonder.
"Oh yes," Molly said distractedly, throwing out her last few cooking spells with fervor.
"Hermione's going to be working for us over the summer," Fred announced, watching as his brother attempted to grab an éclair and getting nipped for the trouble.
"That's nice, dear…What!" Molly spun around to stare at her two sons.
Hermione smiled nervously at the worried look on the matron's face, "They've hired me to do a few things around the shop and also to check their spellwork for errors."
Molly held her dumfounded look for a few seconds more before speaking slowly, "There's no need for that, dear. You're welcome to relax here all summer. There's no need to expose yourself to Merlin knows what at that madhouse of my sons'."
"Er, thank you Mrs. Weasley, but I'm sure I'm going to want to keep myself busy to keep my mind off of…well, just for the sake of doing something." George looked at Fred questioningly, but his twin gave the tiniest shake of his head.
Molly gave her an understanding smile, but still shook her head ruefully, "I'll make sure to teach you a few healing spells. You'll need them."
She gave a mournful sigh and Fred squawked indignantly, "She's not getting a death sentence, mum!"
George nodded vehemently in agreement, "Yeah, Verity's still with us isn't she?"
Molly gave them a shrewd look over her shoulder, "And how many times has she been to St. Mungo's over the course of her stay there?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the twin's silence, "I'd like to know the answer to that myself."
Fred gave her a weak grin, "She's just had a couple…few…dozen incidences where…one or two Mediwizards may have been involved…" He trailed off and George took over.
"But they were small, nearly insignificant, barely painful incidences…" He looked at his twin with a worried expression, "We should probably think about upping our employees' insurance."
Hermione and Molly looked at each other and sighed in unison as Fred seemed to consider the novel idea thoughtfully. The matron looked at the occupants of the kitchen with a mother's attention to detail and suggested they all wash up before dinner. Fred and George gave a salute to their mother, a wink and a wave to Hermione, and disapparated on the spot. Hermione left the kitchen a moment later, deciding to take the stairs. Her train of thought ran along the lines of staying fit. For, in her line of work, one could never tell when an extra burst of speed could take her out of harm's ridiculous way.
A/N: Hope you liked it! Reviews are love. 3