"We really haven't got too long," Molly said. "So we'll just have a quick look around and then back to the car. We must be close, that's number ninety-two... ninety-four..."
"Whoa," said Ron, stopping in his tracks. Due to how much of a hurry Fred and George often had (Y/n) in when taking her to their shop, she never got the chance to properly look at the front of Weasley' Wizard Wheezes.
Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, Fred and George's windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked. The right-hand window was covered in a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:
WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT
YOU-KNOW-WHO?
YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT
U-NO-POO—
THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION
THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!
(Y/n)'s jaw was on the floor and Harry started to laugh. There was a weak moan beside them and they looked around to see Molly gazing, dumbfounded, at the poster. Her lips moved silently, mouthing the name "U-No-Poo."
"They'll be murdered in their beds!" Molly whispered.
"No they won't!" said Ron, who, like Harry, was laughing. "This is brilliant!"
And he and Harry led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers and near impossible to get to the shelves. Boxes were piled to the ceiling: Here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfished year at Hogwarts; Harry noticed that Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, and Harry pushed his way toward the counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds were watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: REUSABLE HANGMAN— SPELL IT OR HE'LL SWING!
"'Patented Daydream Charms...'" Hermione and (Y/n) had managed to squeeze through to a large display near the counter and Hermione was reading the information on the back of a box bearing a highly coloured picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship.
"'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens.' You know," said Hermione, looking up at Harry and (Y/n), "that really is extraordinary magic!"
"For that, Hermione," said a voice behind them, "you can have one for free." A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair. "I'd offer you the same, (Y/n), but why use one when you can have the real thing?"
"I do not need magic to have a lucid daydream," (Y/n) said dismissively. Harry and Hermione laughed over Fred's failed attempt at flirting.
"How are you, Harry?" Fred said, shaking hands with the boy in question. "And what happened to your eye, Hermione? (Y/n)'s been no help."
"Hey!"
"Your punching telescope," Hermione said ruefully.
"Oh, that's it, then?" Fred murmured. "Here—" He pulled a tub out of his pocket and handed it to Hermione, who unscrewed it gingerly to reveal a thick yellow paste. "Just dab it on, that bruise'll be gone within the hour," said Fred. "We had to find a decent bruise remover. We're testing most of our products on ourselves."
Hermione looked nervous. "It is safe, isn't it?" she asked.
"'Course it is," said Fred bracingly. "Come on, Harry, I'll give you a tour— Has your hair always been like that?" he said, pausing and eyeing (Y/n).
"For two weeks now, Fred," (Y/n) answered distractedly.
"I like it," Fred purred. "You thinking of doing any other colours?"
"Soon enough," (Y/n) answered. "Dumbledore approved of it— Even complimented me." Fred hummed. "Say, why is my face on that display over—?" (Y/n) cut herself off upon noticing Fred and Harry had disappeared. Hermione curiously followed her gaze. While it was an animated cartoon, it was undoubtedly (Y/n) on a green and lilac display. In the distance, she and Hermione saw Fred tap the display with his wand whilst not once breaking his conversation with Harry. The under half of the animated character's hair turned pink.
"What is it?" Hermione wondered as she and (Y/n) worked their way through the crowd to the display.
"I do not know," (Y/n) murmured. Upon reaching the display, they found it to be entirely empty except for the sample products. (Y/n)'s animated self seemed to be demonstrating how each product was used.
"The facial expressions are so cute," Hermione mused. The two watched each animation, transfixed, and did not look away until the animations started looping again. At length, Hermione picked up the sample tube of an almost entirely empty container of tinted lipgloss. She used a q-tip to scrape the sides of the tube before applying it to her lips using the small mirror on the display. She glanced up at the animation, silently wondering if she was just supposed to leave the yellow colour on. Upon spotting the same lipstick she applied, Hermione watched a clock appear beside (Y/n)'s animation and text reading ONE MINUTE LATER appeared over the clock. (Y/n) had used a tissue to wipe away the yellow colour. Due to not having a tissue, Hermione carefully used the back of her hand. She was surprised that, like the animation, she was left with a red colour on her lips that went perfectly with her darker skin shade.
"How did you do this?" Hermione asked, continuously looking between her lips and the tube. (Y/n) took it and also used a q-tip to apply the lipstick, which applied yellow just as that in the bottle. When (Y/n) wiped off the yellow, her lips were not the same exact colour as Hermione's, but they were red. Ginny joined the two and briefly looked at what Hermione and (Y/n) were up to. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of the yellow lipstick, but she took it nonetheless and applied it.
"Colour theory?" (Y/n) said, shrugging uncertainly. Ginny rubbed off the yellow after (Y/n) instructed her to do so and her lips were yet another shade of yellow. Hermione looked down at the other colours: Blue, green, purple, pink, orange, and black. Her eyes flicked over the display at the mostly-used makeup pallets. All of the packaging and even the pigments were a wonderous work by themselves— So pretty that Hermione would be very hesitant to even use them. (Y/n), truly, put a lot of effort into whatever she created.
"There is a skincare one too," Ginny said, pointing over at another display nearby. This, too, was entirely empty but for the samples. Based on the fact that a majority of the tubes and containers were missing their lids, Hermione doubted there was any sample left. "And sweets..." Ginny murmured. "Good thing we've got the inventor, huh, Hermione? We can get those sweets any time of year."
"With how popular your products are, you ought to consider opening your own place, (Y/n)," Hermione said. "Clothes, makeup, skincare, and sweets for the most specific of problems?"
"A woman of many talents, huh?" George mused as he, Fred, and Harry reapproached. Hermione seemed rather embarrassed and with a harsh smile, she finally asked a question.
"Do you take orders for this stuff?" Hermione asked. George waved the girls closer and the six huddled together.
"We still have more in the back— We need to have more in the back, actually," George said quietly. "We'll let you take your pick in a bit.
"For now, follow me, ladies," Fred said. Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione, Ginny, and (Y/n) all hung back, looking wary. "There you go," said Fred proudly. "Best range of love potions you'll find anywhere."
Ginny raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Do they work?" she asked.
"Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question—"
"—and the attractiveness of the girl," said George. "But we're not selling them to our sister," he added, becoming suddenly stern, "nor you, (Y/n), not that you'd need it with your charm—"
"Oh, my stars," (Y/n) groaned, turning away from George and pulling a laugh from them all. "Is this not all kinds of illegal?"
"It isn't Amortentia," Fred said. "Therefore, it's plenty legal." (Y/n) shook her head. Having anyone fall in love with her via a love potion just felt all kinds of wrong.
"What's this?" Ginny asked, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf.
"Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher," said Fred. "Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads."
"They only vanish for ten seconds or the pimple vanishes in ten seconds?" (Y/n) questioned.
"You made this—" George cut himself off. "The pimple vanishes in ten seconds."
"As in, the skin gets cleaned out too or the pimple just is not visible?"
"...the first one," Fred answered.
"Huh. Handy," (Y/n) said as she and Hermione also picked up the small pink pot.
"No kidding."
"What are those?" Ginny asked, pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling round the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.
"Pygmy Puffs," said George. "Miniature puffskeins, we can't breed them fast enough." Ginny put her finger through the bars of the cage and watched the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it.
"They're really cute!"
"They're fairly cuddly, yes," conceded Fred. Ron appeared at George's elbow, laden with merchandise. "That's three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut," said Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron's arms. "Cough up."
"I'm your brother!"
"And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut."
"But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!"
"You'd better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves."
Ron dropped several boxes, swore, and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Molly, who had chosen that moment to appear.
"If I see you do that again, I'll jinx your fingers together," Molly said sharply.
"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" said Ginny at once.
"A what?" said Molly warily.
"Look, they're so sweet..."
"I best be off," (Y/n) said with a quick glance down at the digital watch she had designed a few summers ago. "I will be late for my shift if I'm any moment longer..." But Harry, Ron, and Hermione were looking outside. (Y/n) shrugged and set off for her shift, missing the trio's alarmed faces once they saw her pass the window they were looking out.
(Y/n) made right for Stem to Stem and she used the Diagon Alley entrance to get in. She unknowingly relieved the trio but not following Malfoy, though she did not know she was following him in the first place. (Y/n) went behind the counter and quickly clocked herself in. She jumped in alarm as the moment she turned around, Narcissa was waiting patiently at the counter.
"This has to be quick," Narcissa said, leaning back and peeking into the second part of the shop. She then quickly lead (Y/n) into the staff room. (Y/n) had the excuse of lingering in there due to needing to get an apron and gloves.
"So... You expect me to cover for and keep an eye on your son... who has openly insulted me?" (Y/n) asked slowly. Narcissa grimaced now that (Y/n) was spelling things out. "And you expect me to cover for his task of killing someone as high as Dumbledore, nonetheless," (Y/n) added, crossing her arms. "But... Dumbledore is in my way."
"Exactly," Narcissa said, continuing her quiet pacing. She walked on her tiptoes so her high heels did not touch the ground. "It's beneficial to the both of us: My son's safe and Dumbledore gets taken down." (Y/n) looked down in thought as she tied her apron behind her. "What are you hesitating for?" Narcissa asked impatiently. "You know that Dumbledore does not care who is lost in any potential future wars, so long as your side wins—"
"I am not on Dumbledore's side," (Y/n) stated. "I am not on any side— You-Know-Who is a coward that is scared of death and Dumbledore, and Dumbledore is a manipulator that, as you said, does not care who is lost."
"Then we are one and the same," Narcissa said simply.
"I guess so," (Y/n) murmured. "All right, I will do it and include the updates which you seem to think Draco nor Snape would send... But I am not risking my own face for this."
"I'll have a two-way mirror by our next meeting," Narcissa said.
"What is that?"
"Um... Two mirrors that are connected to one another," Narcissa explained. "You can call on the user anywhere at any time."
"All right. Sure. I will be the one calling on you, though. I do not want you accidentally calling on me when I am around someone else," (Y/n) murmured. They both looked towards the doorframe of the staff room, which had no door, as the shop bell went off. "Lock the door on your way out," (Y/n) whispered, quickly getting her gloves on as Narcissa made for the backdoor. The woman paused before striding right up to (Y/n) and lowering her voice.
"I'm serious about you needing to consider quitting," Narcissa said quietly. "Do a bit of your own research on the family that runs this place— They aren't just wizards and witches, and if you stick around, your blood status won't be the only reason you're discriminated against." (Y/n) stared after Narcissa in thought. She felt oddly threatened, but by who, she was unsure. She quickly jogged out into the open shop, greeting the new customer— A pale, hodded figure with flitted pupils. She swallowed nervously, but to her relief, the bell rang and in walked the weary Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry. The hooded figure scowled and used the door that led into Knockturn Alley to exit. Arthur and (Y/n) both stared after the figure, but the others were busy looking around.
"All the offence, (Y/n), but this is the place you chose to work?" Ron murmured. "It's so... dark."
"Cold, too," Ginny added. "It's because of the odd plants, isn't it?"
"My, how well you know me," (Y/n) smiled.
"Fred asked me to get catnip 'for his favourite cat,'" Ginny informed. "Where can I find that?"
"In there—" (Y/n) quickly ran around the counter and to the Weasleys. "Do not go in there alone. The shopkeepers' grandson's working today and he is really creepy," she whispered. Arthur and Ron both accompanied Ginny in search of catnip.
"Why do you stay if he gives you the creeps?" Hermione asked, looking after them.
"You would not believe the types of customers that come in here, 'Mione—"
"I can take a guess," Hermione said with a glance around. (Y/n) snorted.
"But I get a lot of intel from the 'undergrounds' you might say," (Y/n) said. "Not things I should be hearing, but intel is intel, you know?"
"Doesn't mean you should be the one getting it," Harry stated. Arthur, Ginny, and Ron all looked weary with their return. Neither of them had wanted to get rung up by the teenage boy it seemed, so they came to (Y/n)'s counter.
"I'll pick you up today, (Y/n)," Arthur said as (Y/n) typed in the code of the catnip plant in addition to the code on the container of dried catnip.
"All right," (Y/n) agreed, applying her employee discount to the purchase. Ginny paid with two of the five Galleons Fred had gifted her for the purchase. She opted to pocket the other three. "See you at seven."
"Seven?" Arthur asked wearily. "Right..."