Chapter 58 - Arcane Solutions: Shop-Chapter 58: Lee Jordan's Dark History

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Christmas holidays weren't far off now. Time flew by swiftly, and the entire British wizarding world had their curiosity thoroughly piqued by the Weasley twins' tantalizing mystery. By noon on December 24th, Hogwarts students had returned home, barely managing to drop their luggage before being dragged by their parents to 93 Diagon Alley.

The crowds in Diagon Alley swelled thicker and thicker—more densely packed than any back-to-school season in memory. This generation of parents had almost all known the Weasley twins, having shared many years together, especially those Gryffindor parents. Everyone desperately wanted to understand what was truly happening.

At precisely 12:30 PM—the opening time proclaimed in the papers—several fireworks suddenly erupted from the roof of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Amid everyone's collective gasps, they circled the entire shop once in a blazing arc, then exploded into a magnificent dragon head composed entirely of fireworks right before the barriers. The next second, the fireworks vanished completely, and the barriers surrounding the shop entrance disappeared with them.

A modest stage materialized before the revealed shop entrance, with two figures standing upon it. The crowd began buzzing with electric anticipation—it was George and Fred!

Energetic music suddenly thundered forth as the two moved in flawless synchronization on stage, performing the impressive dance they'd learned from Muggles in America. Their movements were identical yet perfectly coordinated, drawing wave after wave of astonished gasps from the mesmerized crowd below.

As the music reached its crescendo, George and Fred stood back-to-back in their finishing pose, calling out in perfect unison to the crowd below: "Guess who I am!"

"George!"

"Fred!"

George's grin stretched nearly to his ears. "Fred, do you see? I spot so many beloved old friends!"

Fred wore an identical smile of pure delight. "Aha! Isn't that Flint?! Thank you tremendously for your patronage!"

The once imposingly tall and burly Slytherin Quidditch team captain had transformed into a pot-bellied, rather greasy middle-aged man. Still maintaining his aristocratic dignity, he nodded with reserved acknowledgment toward the stage when Fred looked his way. Witnessing the curious and envious glances from the surrounding crowd, Flint couldn't resist sucking in his belly, attempting to puff out his chest as he patted his son's shoulder—the boy appeared exactly like his younger self. "Do you see that? Those two were our team's most formidable rivals back in the day. When you begin school, you'll know them well. Even though they departed Hogwarts years ago, the castle still overflows with legends about them!"

"George! Fred! Hey! Look at me!" A figure struggled desperately through the crowd, fighting to reach the front row near the stage.

Fred spotted him with characteristically sharp eyes. "George, look quickly! Our cherished old mate! Let's bring him up here!"

George followed Fred's pointing finger and burst into delighted laughter, personally stepping down to retrieve him. "Lee! Merlin's beard, it's been far too long!"

Lee Jordan wiped perspiration from his forehead. Despite winter's chill, he'd managed to work up considerable sweat in Diagon Alley—demonstrating just how many people were crammed into this space.

Lee didn't rush onto the stage immediately. He simply observed George with genuine concern etched across his features. "Listen carefully, what exactly are you attempting? What is that thing? You haven't done something completely mad like creating some abomination because you missed Fred, have you?"

George immediately doubled over with uncontrollable laughter, shouting loudly toward the stage: "Fred! Our devoted old mate believes you're some monster I've created! Quickly, prove him spectacularly wrong!"

The surrounding crowd erupted in thunderous, appreciative laughter. Some of George's acquaintances harbored identical concerns as Lee, watching him with worried expressions.

Fred on stage spread his hands with theatrical helplessness. "How precisely am I supposed to prove that?"

"Oh, perfectly right! I know something Lee knows but George doesn't. Would that suffice as proof?" Fred's expression transformed mischievously as he gazed down at Lee with a wickedly anticipatory grin.

Lee experienced an increasingly ominous premonition but still called out stubbornly to the stage: "Go ahead then! I've got absolutely nothing I can't tell people!"

Fred turned to the crowd below with exaggerated regret. "I genuinely tried—I originally intended to preserve our old mate's dignity, but you witnessed that response. Do you want to know this delicious secret?"

Lee's sense of impending doom intensified dramatically, but the crowd's reaction became even more enthusiastic. Gossip represented fundamental human nature—who could possibly resist such front-row entertainment?

Fred cleared his throat with theatrical precision. "Quiet down, everyone. Let's begin this revelation then. Back in our considerably younger days, during that particular year's Christmas, our Gryffindor house boasted countless absolutely lovely girls!"

At this strategic point, Fred shot a wickedly knowing glance at the increasingly guilt-stricken Lee. "Our protagonist—the legendary Quidditch match commentator! Lee Jordan! On this most special day, he..."

Before Fred could complete his devastating revelation, Lee abandoned all dignity. He scrambled and tumbled onto the stage desperately, attempting to silence Fred by covering his mouth. But precisely like Molly that memorable night, he lunged straight through empty air and crashed face-first onto the wooden stage with spectacular impact.

The watching crowd erupted in absolute amazement. Lee climbed up in complete bewilderment, staring at Fred, whom he'd passed directly through like morning mist. After an extended moment of stunned silence, he stammered: "Fred, what—what in Merlin's name is happening? What exactly are you?"

George leaped gracefully onto the stage, hauling Lee to his feet and dramatically showcasing him beside Fred, who cooperatively struck proud product poses with professional flair. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow us to introduce with tremendous pride! Our Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' revolutionary newest product! Portrait Projection! Can move freely within a designated range! Completely indistinguishable from a living person unless physically touched! Want your beloved family members to return home again? Then come examine this miracle!"

The Daily Prophet reporter snapped photographs with frantic intensity. Though he'd known the general story beforehand, this represented monumentally major news for the entire magical world—it deserved comprehensive coverage! This would definitely secure a place in the history books!

The crowd initially fell into stunned silence, but soon began discussing among themselves with growing excitement, voices swelling louder. George had already dismantled the stage efficiently, and he and Fred opened the shop doors wide, returning to their newly reopened store.

The crowd continued their animated discussions, but remarkably, no one entered the invitingly lively shop.

Until a profoundly haggard lady walked determinedly toward the shop entrance.

Almost everyone followed her inside with hushed reverence, all watching her silently with bated breath, desperately wanting to witness whether this would actually work—whether it was genuinely trustworthy.

"Good day, madam. Are you interested in commissioning this type of portrait projection?" Fred stepped forward first with gentle courtesy, spinning in demonstrative circles to display himself to the visitors. Except for being physically untouchable, he appeared absolutely identical to a living person.

"My name is Valerie Brown. My child also perished in the Battle of Hogwarts. She was our only daughter—our precious only child. I lost her so terribly long ago. Could you possibly help me? Even if it's merely fixed in place, saying just a few words would be more than enough?" The lady expressed her desperate meaning in emotionally jumbled fragments.

Fred fell silent for a respectful moment, then smiled with genuine warmth as he answered: "Of course, madam. As our very first customer, we can offer you a fifty percent discount! To create something like me, you'll need to prepare cherished memories about your daughter—from friends or family members, spanning at least five to ten years of recollections."

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