Weasley & Green's Wizard Wheezes was about to open.
During this time Fred and George were running to the shop every single day.
Sean didn't pay it much mind. He spent most of his time grinding mastery on the Cleaning Broom, practicing fine-control magic, and helping Mrs Weasley with the housework.
The Weasleys' home was full of oddities and surprises. The mirror on the kitchen mantel never stopped commenting on people. Every morning when someone looked into it, it would shriek:
"Tuck that shirt into your trousers, you scruffy mess!"
There was a ghoul in the attic who howled and banged the pipes whenever the house got too quiet.
The Weasleys seemed not only used to it, they actually liked the ghoul.
Likewise, the little explosions from Fred and George's bedroom were considered perfectly normal.
So whenever Sean came downstairs with his cleaning broom, Mrs Weasley would praise his alchemical creation to the skies.
"A broom? A broom that helps wizards clean rooms—dear, it's wonderful, it cleans so thoroughly!"
The whole Weasley family was very warm toward him.
Mrs Weasley knitted socks for Sean; Mr Weasley liked to sit next to him at meals and endlessly pester him with questions about Muggle life—how telephones and post offices worked.
"Brilliant!"
Arthur sighed after Sean finished explaining how to use a phone.
"Absolute genius. Muggles have come up with so many ways to live without magic."
It was a bright, clear morning. Sean had gotten up early and was carving runes into the Cleaning Broom, building a more refined spell array for it.
[You practiced making a Cleaning Broom at an expert level. Proficiency +50]
[You practiced making a Cleaning Broom at an expert level. Proficiency +50]
The little room was warm and bright, books piled everywhere without feeling cluttered. Inside the warded corner where he worked, Sean finally pushed the Cleaning Broom up to Expert tier.
[A new Alchemy title has been unlocked. Please check.]
He had to admit he was a little impatient:
[Title: Advanced Alchemist]
[Greatly increases perception of alchemical magic; greatly enhances alchemical talent; greatly improves the wizard's control over alchemical ritual magic]
Greatly improves control over alchemical rituals?
Sean started to understand. This was pushing him fully onto the path of creating new magical rituals.
He had barely set the broom down when a paper airplane phased straight through the wall:
"Mr Green, the renovations are complete.
—Your faithful, Quirrell."
Sean smoothed the plane flat and it turned back into a blank sheet of parchment. He slipped it into his bag.
After reporting to Mrs Weasley, he took a pinch of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.
With the shop about to open, Molly had, for once, relaxed her rules—he was allowed to go to Diagon Alley, but only after telling her and using the Floo under her supervision.
"Diagon Alley."
The flames swallowed Sean's figure; his body spun at dizzying speed, the roaring in his ears loud enough to hurt…
And then he was there.
Sean stepped out into Diagon Alley as if he'd done it a hundred times, and headed for Number 77. The storefront had been renovated into something quite whimsical.
The door was a giant leather-bound book, and when you pushed it open the brass bell over it hummed a little tune.
"Mr Green—"
Professor Quirrell hurried over.
"Oh, as you see, that alchemy workshop is about to open as well."
Following his gaze, Sean saw the crowd jammed in front of Weasley & Green's Wizard Wheezes. Today was the last day before their grand opening.
Some people already looked ready to camp there overnight, just waiting for dawn so they could start a buying spree.
In contrast, the empty space in front of Fairy Tale Workshop felt especially bleak.
"That shop is… very popular, Mr Green. They've been building hype for over half a year. Are we really going to open in the same window as them?"
Quirrell asked anxiously.
"No need to worry,"
Sean replied.
"All right, sir. The International Magical Trade Standards Association people will be here any moment; we have to pass some inspections.
Once the shop's been running for a month, we can apply to be connected to the Floo Network."
Professor Quirrell continued his report.
The International Magical Trade Standards Association was the body responsible for overseeing and codifying commercial practice in the magical world, and for issuing and enforcing international trade standards.
In 1994, Percy would start his Ministry career there; back then the Standards Office was trying to standardise the thickness of imported cauldrons, and Percy wrote a whole report on it.
Fairy Tale Workshop's fireplace had been charmed, making the entire room feel warm and cosy. After a short wait, the bell over the door rang.
"Inspections can be quite tedious. You can rest over there if you like,"
Quirrell suggested.
Sean nodded, but then he saw two familiar faces: the International Confederation of Wizards' Vice-Chairman, Riley August, and Auror Office's Ollie Mitchell.
"Mr Green—so glad to see you here. To be honest, we've been waiting for this day far too long."
Riley August strode over and, while Quirrell was still dazed, shook Sean's hand warmly.
"Think about it, Mr Green—we're willing to raise the offer to eight hundred Galleons—"
Ollie Mitchell still hadn't given up on that.
Quirrell was slow to catch up, and could only stare as the two of them walked a perfunctory loop around the shop and then respectfully handed over a license.
A business license.
Most of the time that phrase meant mountains of paperwork and terrifyingly strict review.
Wizards were born with the potential to cause havoc; thanks to that and "The Great Dungbomb Incident" that once hit Diagon Alley, scrutiny had only grown harsher.
Now, though, Quirrell felt as if they'd just tossed him a blank sheet of parchment.
Could it be… that the shop's prospects were really that good?
…
Riley August was in a fine mood that day. As one of the first through the door, he'd managed to secure a small supply of Fairy Tale biscuits.
Not many, but enough.
Back at the office, a wide-headed, big-eared man waddled up to him.
"Riley, do you have any idea how many wizards want their own Floo connections every year? Some maniacs would hook themselves up to ten fireplaces if we let them!
You know I've been working overtime three days straight, and now you want me to rush out and install an emergency line—no! I'm telling you, it's not happening!"
He had dark circles under his eyes and grumbled non-stop.
"Really not going?"
Riley asked, amused.
"If I go, I'm a flobberworm!"
the wide-headed clerk growled.
"What if it's for that Uladah Alchemy Conference Gold Prize winner…"
~~~
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