After the party, Fredgie and I went home (Fred looked especially star-struck and one guess why, when he disappeared with his snuggle later on in the party) and repaired to our rooms, not bothering to dis-Bmovieize ourselves, so my head was hovering about a foot over the pillow from all that puffy hair I had goin' on. I was high on spirits and not thinkin' anything could damper the mood. I'd just celebrated the twenty-third year of my clone and me bein' together, after all. What could be better?

But somewhere durin' the night, my dreams went back a year, and when I woke up, my skin was stickin' to the sheets from all the sweat. My pillow was also damp as anything, but it wasn't for the same reason.

( Turning to stone )

Sorta thankful Parv went off to her wedding thing after all them kids went back to school, and before them Hogwarts orders started up again. I couldn’t spare the weekend to pick up the slack, since I’m workin’ the laf with Aley. Thankfully all we got pending is Flitty’s tatts.

I’d considered takin’ the day off, but she comes back Wednesday and I reckon I can wait that long. In the meantime, I’m arranging the stock shelves from the melee of weekend sales and Pip and Thack’s mad-house rush to replenish.

( George or Fred? )

“I like the new place,” Trudes says, shoving a box to the back of the shelf. “Don’t get me wrong, Whicheveryouare, and it’s loads of fun to prank the knickers off all them people, but I don’t like this whole being in charge thing.”

I hand her another box from the crate I got in me arms. “May be so,” I muse, “but you’re the best qualified. I mean, you been with us a year and a half. Pranked the clone and me numerous times. And we’re not gonna bring in some green bean off the street knows nuthin’ ‘bout how we work, tell ‘im to run our Maison d’Mischief.”

Trudes slides the last one back on the shelf and heads for the next display. “I’ll manage your ruddy Maison,” she says lightly, “since you’re payin’ me enough for it, but soon as there’s somebody else as comes along you think could do it better, don’t think there’ll be any hard feelins if you take my position away and just have me on regular prank duty.”

( Days off and people in charge )

After the noon rush, it’s settled down at the Maison. Only the few skivers from work showin’ up and takin’ their tours, but there’s a lot of lulls. Hopefully by the weekend, it’ll pick up some, even if they only come for our fairly disgusting fare.

I stretch up and look around the empty lobby. The swamp replica is blurping lazily where it sits, the portraits of three of the marauders (just little silhouettes of a stag shape, a dog shape, and a wolf shape) have stolen into other portraits we put up nearby and grabbed some pencils to write nasty messages out of boredom. Ah, wizarding portraits, gotta love ‘em.

Fredgie’s gone back to the back room to look over a few order parchments, and I’ve taken solo post at the front door to welcome any and all skiving or primary pranksters.

To my right I got the sense of someone nearby and a glance tells me that I'll enjoy this visit. I grin as I recognize Iva AND Aleksey, Iva laid down with a few shopping bags from the looks of it as Aley sees me at the door.

( Surprise visitors!!! )

It has been far too long! Far too long, I tell you, and something must be done!

I put down my pipe (bubbles!) and book (a rather high-brow *snort* biography of Groucho Marx) and slip out of my smoking jacket. Then I think better of it and slip back into the smoking jacket. Have to look our best, eh?

I climb up the stairs to our bedrooms and pause a mo, takin’ a listen. Fred’s snorin’ like a chainsaw (I know he does it just for me) and I don’t wanna wake ‘im. That’s why…anyway! Off to go bother the Babs!

( Babs at Eleven )

That was rather an interesting little meeting with Zonko. I could tell he wasn’t sure whether to be proud we became so popular under his influence, or hurt we became so popular he’s been forced to close up shop. Feel sorry for the bloke, honest I do; it’s always tough to see a fellow prankster getting’ punished, or throwin’ in the towel.

When Fred and I read last night in The Galleon that Zonkos was reporting drastic sales drops and might be forced to close his doors, we immediately understood the consequences. Fred and I took the novelty of Zonkos away when we started doing our Hogwarts orders. I guess it’s fair to say, we put ‘im in the pickle he’s in.

But gotta make an omelet with broken eggs, eh? And Fredgie and I make mean omelets. Still, yet to be figured out what we can put here that’s a novelty, when our Chaz-order business is making an in-village joke shop inessential. Ah well, something to discuss with the Clone, to be sure. Our brainstorm sessions put out great results…we built our business on ‘em!

( Making plans and asking permission )

Things have sure slowed down since Hogwarts started back up. Now we only get the post-hogwart crowd during the day, and the little primaries in the late afternoons, whining for Mum and Dad to get 'em stuff. We give Miles the later shifts, he's better with them ickles--more patience. We would be gettin ready for orders to come in, only Miles' uncle wound up in Mungos today and 'e wanted to go see 'im. So I'm coverin' his shift while the Clone's in the back countin' stock of our owl-order boxes.

I glance up as the door opens and a tall wizard with dark hair and eyes comes in looking as if he couldn't be more out of his depth if he tried. Though he hides it well with a body language that keeps everyone at a distance. He seems vaguely familiar though I couldn't say where from.

I see Trudes notice him and smirk to 'erself. She starts toward 'im. "Well, Theo. Has certainly been a while, eh?"

( Surprise, surprise )

We watched Spaceballs three times. Our barfaits were gone by the time Dark Helmet was having his Mr. Coffee the first time through. Reggie was being extra affectionate and Fredgie was being extra genial. I tried to lighten up for them both and, by the time the stunt doubles were captured the second time of watching, I had managed to finally be in the moment.

But now Dark Helmet is proclaiming that “Evil will always triumph because good is dumb” for the third time and Rings is out cold in ‘is chair beside me. I know ‘e was hopin’ to stay awake ‘til I’d dozed off but didn’t quite manage it.

( I hate it when my Schwartz gets twisted... )

Fred’s doin’ figures at home and I was gonna make some lobe loaf, but we’re clean outta ground beef. So that means I gotta go to the store and get some more.

While I’m here, I decide to pick up some other essentials, including a little bit of sugar to sweeten up the temperament of my special wake-you-right-up-or-else coffee. Probably won’t work, it’ll just make it smile while it punches you, but hey, who doesn’t wanna see a smile in the morning? Besides, sometimes it takes a good belt to get you going.

I’ve got the family pack of ground beef in my basket, a bag of sugar, and a bottle of juice concentrate, and turn the corner between two aisles.

Well, I know what I want for dinner now, I think as I look halfway down the aisle. A bite of Kiggles’ shoulder. I rub my hands together and start to creep forward, intent on taking a little nibble, but then pause, mid-creep. I remember how she was when Fred and I last kidnapped-kidnapped her. That owl she sent left both our heads spinnin’ for quite some time. Still how many people gnaw on Kiggles’ shoulder?

I can’t get to sleep.

Reginald’s laid out on the side o’ my head, her little kneazle butt nestled all nice and snug on my neck. She’s curled around my new ear and I feel the rumble of her purrs as she licks it, like it was her own little kit. Usually it’s that with the view of Fred layin’ in his own cot beside me in the library’s been gettin’ me to sleep lately.

Only tonight, with my clone sleepin’ sound as a pound nearby, and with my little princess’ motor rumblin’ in my ear, I’m still just layin’ here. Awake.

( Thoughts while tryin' to not be awake )