Harry Potter fanfic--Student Teacher at Hogwarts
Chapter Nine - Dinner and a Show
July 4, 2001 Evening
"You can leave that to me." Terri gasped at the voice. It was the same voice she remembered from last year in Florida -- only better. Then, it had been hoarse, gravelly even, as if he was not used to speaking. Now...it was still deep, deeper than Snape's voice, without Snape's nasalness -- and with a warmth that Snape's voice would never hold.
Dumbledore smiled. "That settles that, then." He tossed the keys. Terri turned slightly, and saw Sirius Black, her summer fling, catch them with a confident grin.
"It'll be good to get back in the saddle," he said. He looked at the motorcycle and sighed. "It has been too long."
"Yes, it has." Sirius turned to face Terri, hearing the bite in her voice. She frowned, and folded her arms across her chest. You, Mister, have some serious explaining to do, she thought -- and she knew he could read that in her face.
Sirius took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He looked down, meeting her eyes. Terri saw dark circles under his eyes ... and other signs of haggardness. "I will explain, later tonight, I promise. But right now..." he gestured to the motorcycle. "I understand that Molly's cooking is not to be missed."
Sirius took as much care with his passengers as Bill Weasley. Along with the sidecar, one of the helmets had duplicated, so there were enough to go around. Very shortly, with Deidre and the books in one sidecar, Ron and his bag of fireworks in the other, and Terri, as before, right behind the driver, they were on their way to the Burrow.
Riding with Sirius felt different from riding with her cousin. Bill was tall and slender, whereas Sirius was somewhat shorter, and...stockier? He'd filled out in the year since she'd seen him last, and it felt like most of that was muscle. It gave her something very solid to hold onto. It had been a while since Sirius had driven a motorcycle; fortunately, any shakinessdisappeared in a minute or two, and once it left, Terri could tell he was in greater control of the vehicle than Bill had been.
"I have missed this," Sirius sighed. After a moment's hesitation, he added, "You may not believe this, Terri, but I've missed you, too."
"You two really do know each other?" Ron chimed in.
"Ummm..." Terri wasn't sure how to answer that. Certainly, she had met Sirius Black, after all, and spent plenty of time with him during that two-week vacation in Florida...but as to knowing him...
"We've been acquainted," Sirius replied. Well, that's one way to put it, Terri thought.
Once again, they arrived at their destination all too soon. Sirius landed the cycle around the side of the Burrow, and killed the invisibility circuit as soon as they touched down. Remus Lupin ran up to them as they were removing their helmets, a worried look on his face.
"She's wonderful," Sirius said, removing his helmet. "I should ask Bill if he'd be willing to sell it. Reminds me of the one I used to have." A distant look came to his eyes for a moment, then clouded over. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he turned to Lupin and said, "Why the worried look? Afraid I'd forget how to drive a motorcycle?"
"Not at all, old friend," said Lupin. He looked down, apparently embarrassed. "Ummmm...not everyone we'll be dining with...knows the truth." He looked back up at Sirius. Even several feet away from them, Terri could sense the tension between the two; she saw the stiffness in Sirius' muscles, and knew it wasn't from driving the cycle. "I'm afraid you'll have to--"
"BLOODY BLASTED HELL!" In one smooth angry motion, frightening in its energy and swiftness, Sirius threw his helmet against the nearest tree. It winked out just before it hit, as did the second sidecar, depriving him of the satisfaction of hearing it shatter. He breathed hard, muscles quivering from the outburst. It was a minute or so before he spoke again. When he did, it was at a more normal decibel level, but his voice still shook with anger. "Will I never have a normal life again?!"
"You still have a life, Sirius...and you can remember a time when it was normal. That's...more than some can say," Lupin responded, so softly that Terri could barely hear him.
Sirius' shoulders sagged. "That was low," he said hoarsely.
"But honest," Lupin persisted.
"Brutally." Sirius sighed. He turned to face Terri. "I am very sorry...that conversation will have to wait."
Oh, of course, go ahead, brush me off, Terri thought. She sighed in frustration. And what did Lupin mean anyway about not everyone knowing the truth?
"Sirius?" Ron piped up. "If...you'll be staying as Snuffles...?" At Sirius' and Remus' nods, he continued, "You can use my room for a while, for...whatever conversation you need."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Thank you, Ron," he said. A moment more, and he was a dog again; a moment after that they all entered the Burrow.
Dumbledore, Arthur, and Molly were sitting in the living room, drinking tea. Molly's face was blotchy, and Arthur was looking at her with concern. Has she been crying? Terri wondered. Molly put down her teacup, and spoke. Her voice was hoarse and quavering. "I still don't understand why it has to be Bill," she said, nearly sobbing on her eldest son's name. Arthur put his hand on hers and squeezed it.
Lord and Lady, she HAS been crying! Terri thought.
Dumbledore spoke up then, his own voice grave. "He's the best curse breaker at Gringott's, Molly," he said. "And he volunteered for this."
"But...the Heart of Ra! That's...does he...how could he understand the danger?!" Molly turned to Arthur, her eyes pleading.
The headmaster spoke up again. "You read his note," he said, pointing to the opened parchment envelope on the coffee table. That must have been the note Bill sent back with George, Terri thought. "He was quite clear that he understood the risks."
Molly looked down at the note, then back to Dumbledore. "Yes," she admitted reluctantly. "Yes, I just--" She choked back a sob. "There's no other way to kill the Dementors, is
there?"
Dumbledore sighed. "I wish there was. Please believe me, if I knew of a safer way to accomplish this..." he trailed off.
The silence stretched for a moment, then Arthur spoke. "Molly, it's his world, too. He has as much right to fight for it as we did when we first signed on for this."
Molly nodded, then turned, taking in the new arrivals for the first time. "Oh!" she exclaimed. With an effort that took Terri's breath away, Molly put on a smile and stood up. "I'm sorry I
didn't see you come in. I'd...better start dinner. Ron, dear, would you please give me a hand?"
Ron, who had been watching the whole scene wide-eyed, shook himself, then nodded, following his mother into the kitchen.
Terri and Deidre looked at each other, then hesitantly took seats on the couch with Arthur. After meeting eyes with Arthur, Remus Lupin sat down in one of the chairs, while Snuffles settled at Lupin's feet. What the heck is the Heart of Ra? Terri wondered. But before she could ask, Dumbledore set down his teacup, then raised his voice slightly. "Your mum just left the room, so you can safely stop pretending you weren't listening and come downstairs now," he said. Fred and George descended the stairs, looking defiant, followed by Ginny, who looked sheepish.
"Ginny," said Arthur, "you'd better go help your mother in the kitchen."
"But--" At her father's look, she cut off her protest and went to the kitchen.
"Now," Dumbledore began, looking at the twins, "I take it you two finished your argument?"
"Oh, that," said Fred, while he and George looked relieved. "It was--"
"FIREWORKS!" came Molly's shout from the kitchen. "Where did you get the money to buy fireworks, young man?"
"That would be our package," said George hastily. He and Fred dashed to the kitchen.
There was an awkward silence, save for the shouting in the kitchen...which cut off abruptly. It sounded as if Fred and George were giving some sort of explanation, but Terri could not make out their words. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. "Um, Professor Dumbledore?" She asked -- at the same time as Deidre. They looked at each other and laughed nervously.
"One at a time," said Dumbledore, a gentle smile forming on his face.
Deidre gestured for Terri to go first. "What is the Heart of Ra?" Next to her, Deidre nodded; apparently, that had been her question as well.
"Ah." Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his gaze took in everyone in the room. He leaned back in his chair, looking suddenly tired. "The short explanation -- which I hope you will content yourself with for now -- is that the Heart of Ra is one of several fronts in the battle against Voldemort. For the rest..." Dumbledore gazed at both Terri and Deidre. It was a penetrating look; Terri felt as if the wizard were weighing her very soul. He sighed. "It would be best if I did not tell you, or at least not yet. I am sorry." The apology sounded sincere.
Terri inclined her head, signaling her acceptance despite her disappointment. She ransacked her memory for anything she might have learned or picked up about this "Heart of Ra." She went over what she had learned about Ancient Egypt in her Survey of World History class in college as a freshman. Ra, or Re, was the Egyptian god of the sun, and associated with other gods, such as Horus. Many Egyptian pharaohs claimed to be descended from gods, or were considered the embodiment of gods; she wasn't clear on that point. The word her teacher had used was "god-kings."
Ra was special, though, and not just because he was god of the sun. The pharaoh Akhenaten (of the New Kingdom period? Terri couldn't remember) declared that the sun should be worshipped before all other gods, bringing about the closest thing to monotheism the ancient Egyptians ever knew. The art of his period was also more naturalistic, depicting the king, his queen Nefertiti, and others much more realistically than the standard formula; it was enough of a break to be very memorable. Sadly, it didn't last; Akhenaten's successor, Tutankhamen, restored the old ways. But did any of this have anything to do with the "Heart of Ra"? Terri couldn't guess.
"...was a setback there." Arthur put down his teacup with a clatter as Terri brought her mind back to the conversation. "We were unsuccessful at freezing his assets," Arthur continued.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Surely the order from the Ministry--"
"Was not enforced," Arthur got out, suppressed rage in his voice. He gave the headmaster an apologetic look. "Apparently the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department does not outrank a sufficiently enraged Lucius Malfoy."
Lucius Malfoy?! Terri remembered him as their rescuer -- of a sort -- in Knockturn Alley. She also remembered seeing him at Gringott's. He had been arguing with the goblins there; if what
Arthur said was true, he had won that battle.
Dumbledore frowned. "Do you have any idea how he convinced them not to freeze his assets?"
"Some," Arthur replied. "I know it was early in the day, so the vault must not have been entirely frozen yet. And he was supposedly carrying Blazeballs in his briefcase; said he'd just
keep tossing them in his vault until the things unfroze his assets anyway."
"Blazeballs?" asked Deidre.
"Picture a fist-sized ball that can ignite a building the size of the eight-plex we live in," Terri explained. Deidre goggled; Arthur nodded.
"That's not the worst of it," Arthur ground out. His hands had balled into fists. "That -- that -- Cornelius Fudge--" he took a deep breath and continued. "He wouldn't back me on this, Albus. Said Malfoy was from `too respected and honorable a family to be treated like a criminal.' So he didn't even try to step in on the failed asset freeze."
"What about moving the raid up to tonight?" asked Dumbledore.
Arthur shook his head. "I suggested that; he flatly refused to allow it. Albus--" he swallowed. "I hate to even think this, but...I have a terrible feeling You-know-who already has people in
the Ministry, and is recruiting more."
"Surely not!" The voice came from the stairs. Terri looked up; Percy, dressed impeccably as always, came down to join them.
"I wish I had your confidence, Percy." Dumbledore took in the new arrival sadly. "After what has happened in the past month, I'm prepared to believe almost anything is possible." After a glance at the grandfather clock in the living room, he said, "I see your brother Charles is at home. Do you know if he'll be down soon? I'd like a few words with him."
"Charlie should be down shortly, Professor," replied Percy. Ron emerged from the kitchen with a very confused look on his face just as his older brother continued with, "He said he needed to finish reading his mail."
"Who, Charlie?" Ron suddenly asked. At Percy's nod, Ron rolled his eyes. "No wonder," he said. "He must have gotten about six owls before I left today, and he said he was expecting more."
Dumbledore perked up. "That could be the best news I've had all day." As Ron settled into a chair, the headmaster glanced around the living room and nodded. "Cornelius Fudge promised more than a year ago to improve the security at Hogwarts by authorizing dragons. Someone finally found the authorization on his desk and put it through." Terri thought she caught a twinkle in the headmaster's eyes, and the barest emphasis on the word "someone." "So," Dumbledore continued, "I have been making arrangements through Charles to bring dragons to Hogwarts in time for the school year."
"Wow!" said Deidre. Terri smiled at her best friend. She remembered hearing bits of the long conversation between Deidre and Charlie about dragons. She knew they were one of Deidre's
favorite mythical creatures; in addition to the dragon embroidery she was working on now, Deidre had finished two pillows with dragons on them and had a stuffed dragon at home. She could only imagine Deidre's excitement at the likelihood of seeing real live dragons at last.
Remus Lupin cleared his throat. "You're quite certain Fudge won't raise a fuss? I heard from...a friend that..." he trailed off.
Dumbledore sighed, and refilled his teacup. "My disagreement with Fudge is surely no secret by now," he said. He took a sip, then added, "But he cannot deny me the dragons. It was his idea to begin with, in response to the escape from Azkaban of a dangerous killer who remains at large."
Terri gasped. Azkaban, the wizard's prison, was supposed to be escape-proof! Who could have managed such a feat?
"Sirius Black!" Percy exclaimed, hitting the top of the bannister on the staircase with his fist. "I can't believe he has managed to evade capture after all this time!"
"Sirius Black? But--" Terri clamped her mouth shut, and turned to stare at the dog -- just barely managing to turn it into a look at Remus Lupin at the last moment. What the heck is going on here? she thought. At her look, Lupin shifted in his chair and gave Snuffles a pat on the head. He met her eyes, and gave her a look that seemed to say "Wait for it."
"Astonishing, isn't it?" Dumbledore commented drily. "But perhaps you have not kept up with the story?" he said, turning to Terri.
"I don't read the Daily Prophet," Terri said dully, remembering the last person she'd said that to: Sirius Black.
"Sirius Black was put in prison for killing 13 people with one curse," Percy explained. "He was said to be You-know-who's right-hand man...he may even be responsible for his return."
"WHAT?!" Terri couldn't hold back the exclamation. This was not making any sense at all. Ron knew Sirius -- and so did Dumbledore, and Hagrid. She didn't think any of them would protect a known killer. Involuntarily, one of the essay questions from Professor Snape's test came back to her...about three students and a professor protecting a convicted criminal. Lord and Lady, what was going on?
"Horrifying, I know," said Percy. "If I was in charge of--"
"Percy!" came Bill's voice from the kitchen. Terri figured he must have just Apparated back home. The eldest Weasley son poked his head from the door. "Mum wants you to give me a hand setting up tables in the yard out back." He disappeared back into the kitchen.
Percy went to the kitchen, and nearly collided with his twin brothers coming out. "Watch where you're going!" he exclaimed, and huffily went through the door.
The twins rolled their eyes and continued a whispered conversation. Ron turned in his seat. Terri, being closest to the kitchen, could just make out what they were saying as they headed to the stairs.
"...wouldn't believe the gambling story," George was saying. "Anyway, we're not in trouble."
"Harry's in trouble," Fred hissed back, "and when he finds out that we told, we'll be in--" Fred stopped, and suddenly realized that everyone in the living room was staring at him. "Errr," he said.
"Is there a problem with Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked. His voice was mild, but his eyes showed concern. Snuffles stood up, suddenly alert.
"Ummm." Fred ran his hand threw his hair, messing it up. "No, it's not -- not that kind of problem." He took a deep breath. "Not a You-know-who problem." Terri was surprised to see that he was actually blushing.
"Ah." Dumbledore relaxed. "Forget I asked, then."
The twins glanced at each other, and without another word, hurried up the stairs. This time they nearly knocked over Charlie, who was on his way down the stairs. He dropped several unfolded sheets of parchment and one envelope. "Oof, watch where you're going!" He said, and bent to pick up the papers. The twins muttered apologies and bent as if to help, but Charlie waved them on. They disappeared upstairs, while Charlie stood up, having retrieved all of his papers. He shook his head in puzzlement as he looked at the envelope. When he saw Professor Dumbledore in the living room, his expression cleared slightly.
"It's good to see you again, Charles," said Dumbledore, putting down his teacup and rising to shake his hand. "Do you have good news for me?"
"Very good news, Professor," Charlie said. His face clouded again. "But...I also have a letter for you. At least, I think it's for you. From Hogwarts." Charlie passed the letter to the headmaster; Terri barely had the chance to make out the phrase "balmy old geezer" in very spikey handwriting before Dumbledore took it from him.
Professor Dumbledore read the envelope, and his eyes widened. He quickly opened it and began reading. After a few moments, everyone in the room was startled to hear him laugh. "Ha! Now this is the best news I've had all day." He shook his head. "Though I expect I may disagree with that in a day or two." Almost to himself, he added, "Oh Alastor, you do have a way with colorful metaphors."
"Alastor? That's from Mad-eye Moody, then?" Arthur asked, looking up with interest. Snuffles took a step forward and began wagging his tail. Terri gathered that Sirius knew Moody.
"Yes, it is." Dumbledore was still grinning. "It would appear that retirement has not diminished his recuperative powers in the slightest. He wants to know when he'll be permitted to -- eh, leave the Hogwarts infirmary and start doing more productive work. That's not exactly how he put it, of course."
"Once an Auror, always an Auror," Lupin observed with a smile. "Is Madame Pomfrey keeping him under control?"
"Barely." Dumbledore glanced again at the letter, and put it in his robes. "When I left Hogwarts this morning, she was threatening to have Hagrid sit on him if he didn't behave."
Everyone in the room burst out laughing. Even though Terri and Deidre had never seen Mad-Eye Moody, and only knew of him from the account Hagrid gave them -- which, come to think of it, wasn't even about the real Mad-Eye Moody -- the image of the giant man sitting on someone to get him to behave was just too funny.
Just then there was a knock at the door. "Ah, that would be Diggle -- tonight's entertainment," said Arthur. "Ron, would you get the door, please?"
Ron went to open the door. A short wizard Terri had never seen before tipped his violet top hat at the teen-ager. "Dedalus Diggle, at your service," he said. Holding his hat in his hands, he continued, "I hope -- oh, I must be at the right place. Your father is Arthur Weasley, yes?" At Ron's nod, Diggle grinned. "Can't help but spot the resemblance. Please, let him know the `fireworks' have arrived!"
"Dedalus, come on in!" Arthur called from the living room. Not needing any more encouragement, the little wizard gave Ron a quick nod and made his way toward the teen wizard's father.
"Arthur, this is really smashing!" he said, shaking hands. "So where's the guest of -- oh my, Professor Dumbledore!" Diggle did not stop smiling, but his voice ended in a sort of strangled
squeak. To Terri, he looked rather like -- well. Rather like some of the former students of my old high school biology class when Mr. Hundley used his strongest `classroom voice' to get everyone's attention at the start of our five-year reunion, she mused. He'd been the strictest teacher in the school, and the most wonderfully muscular -- and that included the football coach. Wonder if he ever knew his female students called him `Hundley Buns' behind his back.
Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Please relax, Mr. Diggle; I'm not here to give you a detention," he said.
"Oh," said Diggle. He managed a nervous chuckle. "No, of course not!"
Dumbledore's eyes flicked briefly to Terri's as he inclined his head at the latest arrival. He didn't have to say a word; his resigned smile spoke volumes. Terri covered up her own amusement; she could tell this wasn't the first time he'd gotten Diggle's reaction from a former student, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
Arthur introduced Diggle to everyone in the room, including Terri and Deidre. Diggle's eyes lit up when he shook Lupin's hand -- "So you're the DADA teacher my nieces were raving about!" Arthur introduced Terri as "My American cousin -- the one who just got the job at Hogwarts."
"Ah, for Potions, is it?" asked Diggle, giving her a surprisingly strong handshake. "Maybe my nieces will stop complaining to me about their Potions class now! Er -- no offense, Professor," he added hastily to Dumbledore, turning a bit red.
"Quite all right -- Professor Snape is not the easiest instructor on his students," Dumbledore observed, nodding agreement. Ron seemed to be suddenly overcome with a severe coughing fit just then.
Arthur smoothed over the moment by offering Diggle a cup of tea, which he took gratefully. "Bode and Croaker not working you too hard now, are they?" he asked.
Diggle took a sip of tea, and shook his head. "Not now that I'm past `rookie' status. Though with what I've heard --" He glanced again at Dumbledore, this time with a question in his eyes.
"I believe we will all have a lot of work ahead of us," said Dumbledore heavily. He quirked an eyebrow and added, "But at least for a while there will still be time for Shakespeare."
"Praise the Bard!" Diggle intoned, raising his teacup in salute. As an afterthought, he added, "and curse my slavedriver of a director. Nearly had a fit when I told him this was more important
than running through a technical rehearsal a second time; said I didn't have the appropriate `esprit de corps.'" He sighed. "It's only the Hogsmeade community theater, this is the second time I've done `Tempest,' and I got all the effects down perfectly at the first technical rehearsal. He really didn't need me there tonight!"
Dumbledore smiled. "I shall have to see about getting tickets; the storm effect is awe-inspiring when done correctly."
Diggle bowed. "You need only speak and it shall be arranged."
The small talk continued a bit longer. Diggle had a son who was turning eleven; he was quite a handful, and made the little wizard shake his head at the size of the Weasley brood. The reason for Diggle's presence was quickly explained. He enjoyed doing what Muggle movie directors would call "special effects," and had made a sort of hobby out of creating small storms, flashes of light, fireworks, shooting stars, eerie noises, and other mood creators, using only his wand and his imagination. "So when Arthur invited me over to help his American cousin celebrate an American-style Independence Day -- fireworks and all -- how could I refuse?" Diggle explained with a smile and a shrug.
"But Fred and George --" Ron cut in, then closed his mouth abruptly and covered it with his hand.
Terri put up a quelling hand. "It's okay, Ron, they told me." Turning to her host, Terri said, "Um...Arthur? Your twins wanted to do a fireworks show for me tonight as well. I think it was
their way of apologizing for those cookies."
But Diggle, rather than becoming dismayed, seemed quite excited, rubbing his hands together. "Excellent! Did they get Filibuster's Fireworks?" At Ron's nod, Diggle said, "It's been a while since I've done a properly coordinated show with real fireworks; if they work with me, this should be quite a treat indeed."
Just then Mrs. Weasley called for help setting the tables and bringing out dinner, temporarily suspending any further conversation about fireworks. Snuffles joined the other guests outside, and while he didn't have a seat at the table, Terri noticed several people -- even those who didn't seem to know who he really was -- slip him food under the table. Terri herself did not, however. Her mind was still reeling from Percy's revelations, and she was sure she had not teased out the full meaning. She worried at it like a dog at a bone while the dinner coversation swirled around her. Mr. Weasley, Percy, and Diggle seemed to be discussing Ministry business, which she quickly tuned out. But here and there she caught other bits and pieces, rather like a radio play.
Dumbledore: And you're sure the Scottish Magic Ministry agreed?
Charlie: Agreed? Merlin's beard! They said they'd be glad to be rid of her! Don't know what the squid will think about sharing the lake, though...
Ron: Professor, if enough students ask for Lupin back...
Dumbledore: Ron, you seem to have forgotten that Lupin's preferences play into this, too.
Lupin: (a pregnant pause) I am considering our discussion earlier today, headmaster.
Ron: (excited) You mean, you might be DADA teacher again?!
Lupin: I didn't say that, Ron.
Bill was being unusually quiet; Terri guessed he must have a lot on his mind. She considered asking him about the Heart of Ra, but decided against mentioning it at dinner, for fear that Mrs. Weasley would overhear. Mrs. Weasley herself was engaged in a strangely delicate conversation with the twins; from the way they reacted, she was asking the same questions she had asked before, as if she wasn't sure whether she wanted to believe her sons' answers or not.
Fred: Honest, Mum, that's what Harry said, and how could we turn him down? He really has learned a lot this past year ...
Mrs. Weasley: But he surely wouldn't have hexed you if you didn't take the money!
George: You didn't see his face. And with what he's been through...
Fred: I -- I really think he would have felt hurt if we hadn't taken the money. (Pause). We'll pay him back, Mum, as soon as we can.
George: (emphatically) Every Knut!
Mrs. Weasley: Well...but...it just doesn't seem right. And, for heavens' sake, a joke shop...!
Dumbledore: (clears throat) If I may, Molly?
Mrs. Weasley: Yes?
Dumbledore: Would it relax your concerns if Fred and George drew up a business contract with Mr. Potter, making him a silent partner in their company? The money then becomes a business loan, not simply a gift.
Mrs. Weasley: Oh...well. I...I'd have to think about it...
Fred: But Mum, really, it's our business!
George: Hold on, Fred, I think I see where this is going. (Pause) You know, I rather like the idea. We might even be able to license the use of his name.
Fred: What, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" isn't good enough?
George: Oh, it's excellent, brother mine, but just think: "Potter's Practical Jokes!" It has a ring, doesn't it?
Fred and Ron: Wicked!
Terri felt a sharp jab in her left shoulder. "Ouch!" She glared at Deidre, who had poked her.
Deidre glared back. "Weren't you listening?" she asked.
"What?" She shook herself; Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley were looking at her expectantly. "Um, yeah," Terri said. At least, she thought she'd been listening...she looked down at the mashed potatoes she'd been twiddling with, and saw to her horror that she'd somehow managed to sculpt them into a scale replica of the USS Enterprise. Maybe she hadn't been listening.
"Well?" asked Deidre. "Don't you think it would be a good idea?"
Damn; she didn't remember hearing Deidre say or ask her anything; she must have been too preoccupied with her own problems. "Um, yeah, whatever," Terri replied, almost too soft to hear.
Deidre rolled her eyes. "Never mind." Turning back to Fred and George, she said, "I really think the only way you'll know for sure is if you try it out first; and if you do want to run your own shop, you'll have the experience of the summer job behind you."
Oh. She must have been asking my opinion, Terri thought. She resolved to pay more attention. Now George was scratching his chin, a puzzled look on his face. "But -- what did you mean when you said that a joke shop's just one way of selling our stuff? What would we do, if we didn't sell it in a joke shop?"
"You could still sell it in a joke shop," said Terri. She'd tumbled to the topic now, and her own experience with her handmade jewelry came in handy. Just because she'd never placed her
wearable art in a gallery or store didn't mean she hadn't considered it. "Just not your own joke shop. Sell it to a retailer. You'd really have to watch your cost of materials and such, though, because they double whatever they pay you to sell to the public."
Fred and George looked at her for a moment in stunned silence. She smiled, and continued. "Or you could license the recipes to a manufacturer. I think there might be royalties involved
there...I'm not really sure of the details..." Terri was beginning to warm to her topic. The twins came out of their shock, and began looking for quills, ink, and parchment. Deidre gave her a smile. "I can't believe I'm helping these jokers," Terri whispered to her.
After dinner was done, Ron and Ginny started clearing the table; Mrs. Weasley grabbed the tablecloth near Terri's end of the table. "What you told Fred and George...um, how familiar are you with that sort of business?"
Terri had been afraid that would come up. "In the wizard world, not at all. In the Muggle world..." She shrugged. "There are a lot of books on the subject of selling handmade items; I was just using what I remember from those. Maybe Flourish and Blotts has something about it?"
Mrs. Weasley nodded thoughtfully. Sometime during the evening, she seemed to have made the mental transition from "My sons want to open a joke shop, how useless!" to "My sons want to be
businessmen." Terri could see it was an uneasy transition; it meant realizing that they wanted to do something that wasn't silly but was in fact very grown-up. Fred and George themselves were growing up, perhaps faster than she'd expected.
by Terri Wells
