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Meddlesome Mirrors | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny, Neville Longbottom, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Comedy, General, Humor, Romance Warnings: Mild Language Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 41 Summary: George’s new invention is about to blow open a few secrets. Hitcount: Story Total: 12636; Chapter Total: 4015 Author's Notes: I just want to say thank you so much to my readers (especially those giving feedback). I love it and appreciate you so much. And a thousand dancing "Thank you!"s to the person who nominated this for a Trinket! I'm in shock and so pleased that someone out there is enjoying this story so much. I'm really chuffed to bits. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! Last, but far from least, more thanks to Cognitur for being the wonderful beta for this fic! |
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Saturday * * * * * * Harry slid the last box of Patented Daydream Charms into place and stepped down from the ladder, wiping his hands on his trousers. “What else do we have to do before we open?” he asked Ron, who was re-filling the Canary Cream bin. “Was that the last of the boxes?” Ron asked back. “Yeah.” “I have no idea then. I guess just put the ladder back? George said he’d be down by now. Figure’s he’d leave us to do all this.” “We are theoretically his employees today.” Ron grumbled as he shook the bag of sweets to get the stragglers out. Harry puffed out a breath and took up the ladder, carrying it into the storeroom and leaning it against the wall where he’d found it. He came back into the shop to see Ron grabbing up the empty sweets sacks, still mumbling to himself. “What’s got your knickers in such a twist, Ron? It’s just one day.” “One day I should have been spending with Hermione, instead of waist high in Ton Tongue Toffees.” “Ginny asked us to do this two weeks ago.” “I know, but I forgot, okay? I barely get to see her as it is.” Harry snorted at this. “What?” Ron snapped. “You saw her last night, mate. And Wednesday night, and Tuesday night, and Tuesday morning, so I’m guessing Monday night as well…” “That’s not the point. We haven’t spent a day together in ages; we’re always bloody working.” “Well, you have Monday off, too, right?” “Yeah, but Hermione doesn’t.” Harry sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you.” “Doesn’t matter, I’ll just have to get Ginny back for guilting us into this.” “It’s not like she’s skiving off, you know. She’s working today too.” “She’s playing Quidditch with the bleedin’ Harpies, you mean. That’s hardly working.” “Don’t tell her that if you want to keep your bollocks,” George interjected coming down the stairs with a slightly abused looking cardboard box in his arms. “What’s that?” Harry asked, pointing at the box as George hefted it onto the counter. “New product.” George beamed. “Great, more stuff to stock,” Ron mumbled. “What is it though?” Harry asked over Ron, shooting him a look. “Cupid’s Coquettish Compacts,” George announced with grandiose enthusiasm. “New for the WonderWitch line. Hand held mirrors that flirt and compliment you in the voice of your crush! A real boost to the self esteem.” George pulled out a disk about the size of his palm and a few centimeters thick covered in a vividly purple floral fabric. “Available in a variety colors and patterns. Only 15 sickles.” “Does it work?” Ron asked, looking skeptically at the garish mirror. “Of course it works. What do you take me for?” George strode up to Ron and dropped the compact into Ron’s hands. “Give it a go, see for yourself.” Ron looked nervously between George and Harry. “Here? Right now?” “Yes, here right now, we don’t have all day.” George waved his hand in a gesture for Ron to get on with it. Ron swallowed deeply and then popped it open, peering at his reflection. “Oooo, hello there sexy thing. You’re looking especially handsome today,” Hermione’s voice purred out of the mirror, “why, I could just–“ Shocked, Ron snapped it shut and looked up, blushing. Harry was looking decidedly green. George laughed. “See? They do say it’s the bookish ones don’t they?” He waggled his eyebrows as Ron’s ears darkened. “Now, this one has the same restrictions for selling on it as the daydream charms, alright? They’re a bit racy so no one under sixteen for these round ones. There are heart-shaped ones in there too; I have them separated. They’re just called Cupid’s Compacts. Those ones are for the younger crowd. They just say stuff like “you’re pretty” and “I like your freckles.” We’re putting them in the window on the WonderWitch side. Just let me go get the display. Be right back. “ George launched himself up the stairs again as Harry and Ron stared at each other. “You want to…?” Ron asked, holding up the compact. Harry shook his head vehemently. “No thanks.” Ron smirked. “Afraid of exposing your crush?” “I don’t have a crush on anyone,” Harry answered quickly. “Here, give me those bags, I’ll take them into the back. “ “You’re just trying to avoid it now,” Ron teased, handing over the sweet sacks he was still holding. “What, are you scared of the little mirrors?” Ron called after Harry, who was striding quickly back to the storeroom. Harry replied with a one-fingered salute before disappearing into the back. George appeared seconds later at the top of the stairs, carrying a large pink cardboard monstrosity. “Give me a hand here, will you?” he called. Ron ran up and grabbed the other end of the display. “This side’s facing the window. It’s got the advert on it and we’ll just put a few of the compacts on each ledge so people can see them. The rest will get stacked on the shelves on the other side. We’ll probably not have enough room for all the ones in that box, so we may have to keep restocking it throughout the day. Don’t let it get empty. There are more of them upstairs, and I’ll be working on charming a bunch of them today, so if you run out, just come up and get some more from me, alright?” “Er, right.” Ron said as they placed the display on the floor in front of the window. George tapped it with his wand and it doubled in size. The top was scrolled and painted to look like intricate molding and there were moving illustrations of a girl opening a compact to have little animated hearts fly out of it and circle around her a few times while her cheeks turned pink. The words “Cupid’s Compacts” scrolled out in giant elaborate lettering that flashed and glittered above the scene. To the side of the girl were the words “A compact that compliments you in the voice of your crush! Finally hear him (or her!) appreciating you for all that you are! Trademark of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.” Below that were what looked like a series of small plate rails. The other side of the display was made up of open sided shelves spaced closely together. The top most shelves were labeled with signs saying “Cupid’s Coquettish Compacts — 16 and older” while the bottom shelves: “Cupid’s Compacts - for all ages!” At the top was a large sign displaying the price. “Isn’t it a beauty?” George asked as Harry joined them, bringing with him the box from the counter. Turning to his employees-for-the-day he rubbed his hands together. “Now we just have to fill it up! Get cracking! We’ve got fifteen minutes until doors open.” Later on Saturday * * * * * * Harry turned the key in the latch and leaned back against the doors. He sighed and wiped the back of his hand over his brow. “Finally,” Ron said, leaning back against the counters, “I thought the parade of midgets would never end.” Harry snorted. George came back in from the storeroom holding a brush and dustpan, “I’m going to need to get another order of those mirrors in. Stock’s already running low.” “No kidding, the little buggers were eating those things up. I bet you Ginny would have killed to get her hands on one back in the day,” Ron looked pointedly at Harry, “The-boy-who-lived whispering to her about her hair being as lovely as carrots or some other rot. She’d have had a ruddy heart attack,” he laughed. “Shut it,” Harry grumbled as he stomped up the counter, slamming the keys down, “She was eleven. Don’t be such a prat.” Ron held his hands up in surrender, still snickering. “I was just saying.” “Well I heard your voice coming out of quite a few of the compacts today, Mr. Potter,” George put in, wiggling his eyebrows, “seems our little Ginny has some competition.” Harry groaned, “She’s not even into me anymore. And can you not remind me of how many mini-Romildas I had hanging off of me all afternoon?” Harry shuddered. “They’re persistent, I’ll give them that,” Ron added. “A number of them weren’t mini anything. Don’t know why you don’t bask in it a bit more, mate,” George goaded. Harry narrowed his eyes at him, “You’re just dead-set on being a hermit, I suppose. We need to get you a kneazle or two. Complete the picture.” Ron chortled and Harry rolled his eyes. George sighed dramatically. “A shame. Well, let’s get this place cleaned up so I can go meet Angelina and be done with you two tossers.” “You’re meeting Angelina?” Harry asked, surprised. “Yes, you see some of us like to spend our Saturday nights in the company of a lovely lady, rather than brooding alone in our apartments,” replied George. “I don’t brood alone in my apartment,” Harry grumbled, bending over to pick up a rubber chicken that was flapping about on the floor. “So you save it all for when I’m home? How considerate of you, mate,” Ron said, charming the brush George had leaned up against the wall to start sweeping the floors. George waved his wand at the dustpan he was still holding and it joined the broom, chasing it around to gather up the foil wrappers, dirt and debris that littered the shop floor. Harry started going around the store picking up and straightening everything while George began taking inventory. Ron grabbed a rag from under the counter and started wiping the sticky fingerprints off of the various bins and jars. Harry circled around the central aisle and found himself in front of the Cupid’s Compacts display. There, at the foot of the display lay a lone Coquettish Compact in a fiery shade of red with a small clump of dust clinging to the top. Harry picked it up gingerly, and brushed away the dust. He reached up to put it back on its shelf when the mirror dropped open. He caught a glimpse of his reflection and then a voice he knew, one he would tune in to and seek out in any crowd without even meaning to (this he knew from experience) rang out in the quiet of the mostly empty shop. “Oh Merlin, Harry, you’re looking very roguishly handsome. I wish I could just run my fingers through that luscious hair of yours...” Ron and George froze, staring over at him. Harry hastily clapped the compact shut, his face blossoming in color as he swallowed deeply. “Was that..?” Ron started, staring at Harry in shock. “That sounded like…” “That was definitely Ginny,” George supplied, looking at Harry as though he’d sprouted a second head. “Wha… What?” Harry stuttered, “ Of course it wasn’t…” He fumbled to put the compact back on the shelf but his hands were shaking so badly that he dropped it instead. He immediately bent down to scoop it up. “Hello again, handsome. You look awfully sexy from this angle–“ Harry grabbed the compact and hastily shoved it onto the shelf where it settled, blessedly closed and silenced. “Oh god, I did not need to hear that, “ Ron said, voice strained, as he continued to stand frozen in shock, staring at his best mate. “She’s not actually saying it, “ Harry grumbled, staring at his feet, faced away from the two brothers. “So you admit it’s Ginny then?” George pressed. “I… what? I didn’t…” Harry spun around to see George with his arms crossed over his chest, looking back at him pointedly. “How long have you been harbouring indecent thoughts about my baby sister?” he demanded, voice even, one eyebrow cocked in question. “They’re not just inde–“ Harry snapped out before catching himself, biting back on the words, his face morphing into an expression of horror. His eyes were wide and his face drained of all of its colour as he realized what exactly he had just admitted to, and to whom. “How long?” George asked, staring Harry down. The jig was up. Harry glanced over at Ron who still hadn’t moved. His mouth was gaping open like a fish’s. Harry looked back at George and swallowed, trying to quell the scratchiness in his throat. “Since… since the start of my sixth year,” he answered quietly, looking down at his shoes again. George’s eyes widened and he let out a low whistle. This seemed to knock Ron out of his stupor. “What? You’re kidding!” Harry turned to face Ron, sighing. “Ask Hermione, she knows. She figured it out years ago.” Ron took a step back and slumped against the shelves. “Why on earth did you never do anything about it?” “What?” Harry asked, dumbfounded. “Why are you not… your sister, me, I…?” “If you’ve fancied her for the last three years why haven’t you done anything about it?” Ron asked. Harry’s head swung to Gorge, to Ron, and back again. Both of them were watching him expectantly. “Well… “ he began hesitantly, “she was dating Dean and then I was chasing down Horcruxes and it was just… never the right time.” Harry sighed again, “Besides, she’s over me. She’s been over me. We’re just friends. She’s one of my best friends, I couldn’t… I don’t want to ruin that.” “What a load of rot,” Ron said after a moment. “It’s not!” Harry returned, shooting Ron an incredulous look. “No. Ron’s right. This is Ginny we’re talking about, yes?” George didn’t wait for a reply before plowing on, “This girl, I’ve known her her whole life, you see, and when she gets something into her head or her heart the way she got you, it is never leaving her stubborn little body.” George walked up until he was just in front of Harry. Harry flinched. George laughed and swung an arm over Harry’s shoulder. “He thought I was going to hit him,“ he whispered loudly to Ron who snorted in response. Harry groaned and dropped his head back until it thudded into the display behind him, pulling at his hair with his left hand. “Well that’s settled then.” George said, patting Harry’s shoulder and then pulling away to continue inventory. “Now we won’t need to find you those kneazles.” Harry just stood there, rigid as a board, watching George check off the quantities of each product that lined his shelves. Ron stayed slumped where he was for a few more minutes, staring at his best mate and trying to understand what had just happened. Finally George turned to the two of them. “Get moving! I have a hot date in ten minutes and you two better not make me late for it.” Ron hastily resumed his scrubbing while Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and turned back to straighten the display. His eyes landed on the red compact. He looked over his shoulder to see that Ron and George were both busy with their tasks, not looking at him. He turned back, clenching his hands, debating. Carefully and surreptitiously he reached out and grabbed the mirror, sliding it into his pocket. He stepped back and turned to face George, clearing his throat. “You, uh, want me to go ahead and do the till?” Harry asked. “That would be good,” George said, not wavering from his task, “Thanks.” Harry hurried over to the register, pulled out the tray, and started counting up the day’s earnings. Looking up to see Ron taking the brush and pan back to the store room and George finishing up his inventory, Harry fished 15 sickles out of his purse and dropped them - along with the money from the till - into the bag that George would be depositing at Gringotts on Monday. George came over a moment later and slid his clipboard down on the table. Harry handed over the bag and the sales ledger. “We’re all squared up,” he told him. “Brilliant!” George beamed, “Now get out both of you. I need to get ready.” Harry, still feeling wound up and uncertain, made a grimacing kind of smile and pulled off his smock and name tag, as Ron came out of the back, already having shed his uniform. “I got those,” George told Harry, taking the uniform from him. “Thanks,” Harry said awkwardly, and started making for the exit. Ron was following behind, his hands in his pockets, seemingly lost in thought. “Oh and Harry?” George called, “I’m letting Ginny off early on Monday.” With that he disappeared up the stairwell. Harry blushed. He was stuck in place, staring at where George had just been, the implications running through his head. Monday. This Monday. Could he really say something to her then? What the hell would he say? What would she--? “You coming?” asked Ron, who was holding open the door to the alley beside the shop. Harry shook his head to clear it before striding out into the muggy August night. “So…” Ron began, “you and my sister?” “Well, we’re not…you know. I just… Look, I know, I mean, but…” Harry sighed in frustration, “She’s… Ginny.” Harry said, as if that explained it all. He looked helplessly at Ron, who sighed. “Let’s get a drink, yeah?” Harry nodded emphatically and the two wove their way over to the Leaky Cauldron. Diagon Alley had been quiet and peaceful, and so walking into the wall of noise of the pub was a bit jarring. It took a moment to get their bearings. When they did, Harry smirked. Neville Longbottom was sitting at the bar, following the barmaid with his eyes while sipping from a bottle of butterbeer. Harry nudged Ron and indicated to where Neville was sitting and the two made their way over to their former roommate. Hannah passed behind them when they were a few feet away, shouting a greeting as she went, and this allowed the two to fall into Neville’s line of sight. Neville waved the two over to the bar and Ron and Harry settled next to him after a minute of humiliation on Harry’s part. “Oh, Mr. Potter! Here, take my seat it’s really no trouble, no trouble at all!” A middle-aged man in gray tweed robes stared hard at Harry’s scar and fumbled off of his bar stool, only to be interrupted by the blue-haired woman on Neville’s other side. “No please, take ours, dear. We’re just leaving now anyway, don’t you mind yourselves one bit. Oh, Marjorie will never believe me when I tell her. It is such a pleasure to meet you, truly. Now don’t mind us, you just sit here with your little friends. Oh but he does remind me of our William, don’t you think, Albert?” “How’s the case going?” Neville asked once they were settled, and Harry was relieved to have a subject change. “Monroe tested the sample that I showed you, it’s poisonous, no surprise there, and the poison is a match for what they found in our victim. We still can’t figure out what the plant is though. They’re thinking some sort of hybrid but… We’ve quarantined the house but I’m sure, if you’re interested, you could talk Robards into letting you check the thing out. “ Ron flagged down Hannah and ordered two glasses of Firewhiskey, and then slumped over the bar, staring out into space. “Everything alright with him?” Neville whispered to Harry. “Er. Yeah. Fine. He’s fine. Anyway, we brought the woman in for questioning on Thursday.“ Hannah slid the glasses in front of him and Ron. Ron swallowed the liquor in one swig and passed the glass back to Hannah. She glanced at Harry and Neville briefly before refilling it and hurrying on her way. “She, er, confessed to being a part of it but she’s refusing to implicate her son, so we’re basically back to square one.” “Yeah,” Ron interjected, taking a sip of his whiskey, “Bloody frustrating. Robards has us going over all the files, yet again. It’s enough to do a bloke’s head in. Isn’t this what we have trainees for? I thought we were past the point of having our heads stuck in a file full of paper work day in and day out.” “That why you downed your last glass?” Neville asked, taking another swig of his butterbeer. “No, we just got back from working George’s shop,” Ron supplied. Harry gulped down a measure of his own drink, looking nervously at Ron out of the corner of his eye. He still couldn’t tell what Ron thought about the revelation the he was, well, that he felt the way he did about Ginny. “Oh yeah,” Neville nodded sagely, “you were covering for Ginny today.” Harry tensed at the mention. “How’d it go?” “Oh it was… very enlightening, don’t you think Harry?” Ron nudged him and Harry fumbled about on his stool for a moment, taken by surprise. “George has a new product, you see,” Ron continued, smiling as Harry threw him a look of horror, “they’re these mirrors that talk to you in the voice of the person you fancy. You know, flirt with your reflection and so forth,” Ron took another drink and glorified in watching Harry sweat it out from the corner of his eye. “Girls were just eating them up,” he finished. “Wonder where he came up with that?” Neville asked. “I think it’s quite clever,” Hannah put in, having stopped in front of them to fill up a batch of mugs from the taps. Neville turned to smile at her. “Where does he come up with any of his barmy inventions?” Ron asked, finishing his drink. “Anyway, I guess I should go. I’m supposed to meet Hermione soon. What do I owe you, Hannah?” “What? Oh! That’s two galleons, thanks.” Hannah replied, turning to Ron as he fished the coins out of his pocket. “Wait Ron, I’m done too,” Harry said, finishing up his drink and standing up. He needed to make sure he and Ron were alright after… “I’ll see you soon, Neville, Hannah,” he said, reaching into his pocket to pay for his drink. Harry slapped the coins onto the bar as he heard something clatter to the floor. “I’ve got it,” Neville said, bending down to pick up the fallen item. Realizing, too late, what it was, Harry dived down to try and snatch it up before Neville could. “Well now, I wouldn’t mind having you water my garden, Mr. Longbottom…” There was a crash from the other side of the bar and Neville’s head came up suddenly and cracked against the underside of the counter. He snapped the compact closed, cutting it off at the word “sexy.” Ron was the first to break the sudden hush that had descended on their little corner of the pub. “What the? Did you knick one Harry? Are you barking? It’s a bleeding compact.” “Ron, I didn’t knick it…” Harry argued, blushing furiously. “That, but, that was me. I mean, my voice.” Hannah stuttered, staring at Neville as he came up from under the bar, holding his head in one hand and the scarlet compact in the other. His face was beet red as he stared in shock at the small disk in his hand. He gulped and looked up at Hannah. “Yeah…” She continued to stare at him, her mouth ajar. A second passed and then Neville squared his shoulders. Still blushing furiously he blurted out, “Wouldyouliketogooutwithmesometime?” Hannah’s eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes. I would like that!” Neville smiled stupidly at Hannah as he passed the compact back to Harry, “Here you go.” Hannah was smiling back in the exact same fashion. “Tonight?” Neville asked. “I get off in about an hour.” “Great,” Neville responded, still smiling, as he managed to get himself back onto his bar stool without taking his eyes off of Hannah. “Great. I, er, have to…” she said, gesturing out to the rest of the pub as she stepped carefully around the shards of broken glass and spilt beer at her feet. She waved her wand at the mess and muttered a quick “Evanesco” before disappearing into the kitchen. “See,” Ron started, pinning Harry with a look he didn’t quite understand, “You just ask her out. Neville can do it.” Harry gaped at Ron, who continued to look at him as if he’d just said the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re talking about Ginny?” Neville asked, the silly grin still firmly in place. “How did you…?!” Harry turned to Neville, mortified, but Neville waved off the question. “Oh don’t worry, she has no idea,” he said, but this was hardly comforting to Harry. He sank back onto his barstool and buried his face in his hands, one of which was still holding the troublesome compact. “Great. Everyone knows. Surprised it hasn’t been in the ruddy papers yet,” he mumbled. “Harry…” Ron started. “And you! I can’t believe you’re encouraging me to go out with your sister!” Harry hissed. “What?” “I thought you would hate me!” “Please don’t tell me that’s the reason you’ve never asked her out,” Ron said, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “It’s not the reason,” Harry grumbled, “I told you, it’s just never the right time.” Ron rolled his eyes, “So you make it the right time.” “This from the guy who took-- how long to get together with Hermione?” Harry returned, voice dripping in sarcasm. “I don’t even know why I’m talking to you about this. It’s Ginny. Just do it. Figure it out.” Ron huffed and then Disappatated before Harry could respond. |
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