"In terms of product development, we plan to purchase a batch of interesting finished products. At the same time, we also want to create some more interesting products ourselves, or innovate on the basis of the existing products and create several series... We have to try them one by one..." At this moment, Fred began to talk about some of his novel ideas, whilst showing Draco a malicious smile. "The biggest problem is: the lack of testers."
"I refuse," Draco said coldly. He knew they had ill intentions.
George and Fred both looked disappointed. This young master of the Malfoy family was completely unyielding and very wary of their pranks.
"We cannot be careless when it comes to selling the products either. Like you said, we need to renovate and clean the house, make it look presentable. It is a big project," George said, looking around and shrugging.
"How do you plan to organise the functional areas of this house?" Draco asked with interest.
Fred had already thoroughly inspected the shop from top to bottom. He and George exchanged a glance. "The floor near the entrance is for selling goods. Upstairs is a studio for developing new products, and we will also get staff dormitories. The basement will be for storage. We have not decided on the attic yet—"
"Leave the attic to me," Draco said quickly. "I have a use for it."
"Of course." The Weasley twins had no objection.
"I will send a house-elf over to help out." Draco snapped his fingers, summoning his long-neglected house-elf. "Dobby, stay here, watch the shop, and keep it clean. Assist these two Weasleys with the shop renovations."
"Yes, Young Master!" Dobby, dressed in bright colours, said in a high-pitched voice, his big eyes filled with excitement.
Draco noticed that its style of dress was rapidly heading in the direction of "exaggeration": a Christmas-themed tea towel, a Father Christmas hat that was obviously too big, and a few candy canes stuck on the hat - a Christmas gift that Draco had casually given it.
"A house-elf!" Fred said with interest, watching Dobby nimbly scrub the floor. "If Mum knew, she would be so envious of us. She has always wanted a house-elf."
"Of course we will keep it a secret." George noticed Draco's frown and quickly got back to the point. "The renovations will take time, but we will not abandon the mail service, at least not before the shop opens. So many Hogwarts students are counting on our Skiving Snackboxes!"
"Even if we open, we do not have to give up. After all, students can only come once a month, but the mail service is available anytime, anywhere." Draco stood up and stood in the open space in front of the small window that Dobby had just cleaned.
His patience with the rug under the sofa had worn thin—dust always seemed to rise from there.
"Filch will definitely not like our decision," Fred said with a grin.
"He will not notice. We can just pretend it is cough syrup," Draco told them, in high spirits.
In his past life, he had overheard Hermione mention in the library—well, he admitted he eavesdropped on her—that Filch was a Squib and could not identify the ingredients of the potion.
She is really clever; he could not help but smile slightly.
"By the way, did you know that Filch is a Squib?" Draco suddenly realised that the two people in front of him seemed to be frequent visitors to Mr Filch's office. Considering their mischievous personalities and their habit of rummaging through things—that was how they got the Marauder's Map—discovering Filch's little secret was just a matter of course.
"We already knew!" George said dismissively. "We knew last year."
"That letter about the Kwikspell correspondence course was actually sent to him by us," Fred said to Draco with a sly smile. "We wanted to see if he would fall for it."
"That is right! Lesson one, take your wand…" George chimed in enthusiastically, "We were planning to compile some more teaching materials and send them to him next time… but unfortunately we have been too busy lately and have not had time to compile any more 'Kwikspell Lesson Two'."
I doubt Mr Filch is in the mood for this course. He is busy agonising over his Petrified cat and his now-publicly known Squib identity.
Draco tried hard to suppress his laughter, but failed.
Dobby sighed and decided to clean the curtains first—the carpet was probably beyond saving. The little elf stood up, and as soon as he touched the thick, filthy fabric, a fully grown Doxy flew out from the folds of the curtains.
The Doxy's shiny wings fluttered with a buzzing sound, its tiny, needle-like teeth were exposed, its small, exquisite body was covered with thick black fur, and its four little fists were clenched tightly in anger, as if it wanted to attack someone to vent its anger.
"Watch out, Young Master!" Dobby cried.
"...Take your time. The most important thing right now is to clean up this house properly. I am looking forward to the day it opens." Draco was speaking to the two brothers when he heard the elf's cry. He waved his wand and casually sent the fierce Doxy flying.
The Doxy, unwilling to give up, squeezed between Draco and George, only to be violently slammed against the wall. The impact knocked it unconscious, and it slumped limply into a hole in the carpet in the corner.
George gave Draco an approving look. He noticed that although the boy was young, his reactions were quick and agile; he had not even looked directly at the Doxy, yet he had struck it precisely.
George thought, scratching his chin, "Not everyone can have this skill."
"Wait, do not be so rough! This is an ingredient in Fainting Fancies!" Fred rushed over, threw it into a large, dark bag, and said to Dobby in a warm tone, "Check again, are there any more behind the curtains?"
"There is plenty more!" Dobby shrieked. "Master, we need Doxycide! Dobby can go find some right away!"
"Buy more, I reckon there is a lot here." Draco pinched his nose, glancing at the slightly trembling curtains from afar. "Replace the carpets, curtains, and furniture! I cannot take it any more…"
He tossed the elf a bag of money, which it caught, nodded happily, and then vanished with a "pop."
"Want to catch them with us?" Fred asked, examining the unconscious Doxy in the bag with a mischievous grin.
"No, I have to go." Draco did not want to stay a moment longer; he wanted to turn around and leave this dusty, pest-infested place immediately. However, as he reached the top of the stairs, he paused, suddenly remembering something.
"By the way, when you were using the Marauder's Map, did you notice any names next to Ron?" Draco was still concerned about Peter Pettigrew's name appearing on the Marauder's Map, and in his confusion, he could only ask the previous owner of the Marauder's Map.
"Peter Pettigrew?" Fred said nonchalantly. "I have seen him a few times. I know him. He is long dead, is he not?"
"We have not told Ron yet. We think he might be haunted by the ghosts of the dead," George chuckled. "Although so far, he does not seem to have any ghost-related troubles."
"This is unbelievable," Draco said, his lips twitching.
Even if it were a ghost, these two brothers let it haunt their younger brother without saying a word, which really showed how carefree they were.
"That might be disrespectful to Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, but the Marauder's Map might not be working very well any more. It is quite an old map, after all," Fred said seriously. "We were startled when we first saw the name—he was in bed with Ron in the middle of the night."
"In fact, we sneaked into his dormitory in the middle of the night to check, and there was no one else there." George raised his eyebrows dramatically. "On that bed, there was only our stupid little brother snoring and talking in his sleep."