Fan Fiction By Will

Harris Nightpot’s robes whipped behind him as he raced down the cool, stone steps. The sounds of clinking glasses and the murmur of voices grew quieter with each turn of the stairwell, but Harris knew his would-be captor was not far behind. Sure enough, as he rounded on the brickwork wall, groping desperately in his pockets, the distinct voice of Chester Craftspell, of the improper use of magic department, made its way through the muffled noise of the bar above, shortly followed by the rapping of boots fast on the stairs. Harris finally extricated his wand from the folds of his robes, a good wand, he thought , somewhere in the back of his mind, eleven and a quarter inches with a shard of dragon’s tooth. He could almost hear old Olivander’s voice as he purchased the wand so many years ago. That was before he had dropped out of Hogwarts, before times had gotten so rough and before he had mixed in with what his mother would’ve called, screeching at him from behind her cauldron, the wrong crowd. Now, however, he cursed softly under his breath, trying vainly to open the wall. His wand was tapping madly until – yes! Finally! The bricks shifted and scraped, and before they had fully formed the archway, Harris was weaving his way through the crowds of Diagon Alley.

Chester Craftspell would not be far away, and Harris needed to hide fast. He shot one sad look toward the corner, around which he knew lay the passage to Knockturn Alley, not a particularly friendly place, but one which offered the prospects of a quick hideout – pointless anyway it was too far down the lane. A couple of kids came out of a door just ahead of him and Harris leapt at the opportunity and ducked through behind them before it closed with a soft tinkle.

With a quick look out the window, the man made for the back of the store , surveying his chosen shop for the first time. Not a large store, the room made up for a lack of space with an incredible volume. Racks upon racks of interesting magical trinkets filled the shop. He moved past a rack of what appeared to be jars full of wands, though each was labeled something like “Fish,” “Rubber Chicken,” or “Bat,” and on into a section apparently devoted to assorted candies. He crouched slightly, pretending to carefully examine a bin of “Fuzzy Face Frogs,” which looked to him like a rather poor mock-up of the Chocolate Frogs he had eaten as a boy. From there he watched the doorway carefully, waiting for Craftspell to walk past to make his escape.

What d’you think, eh?” Came a voice over his shoulder after a minute had past and still no ministry official had walked by, “Those ones were my brother’s idea, but the final design is my work.”

Harris looked slowly upwards. The man wore a fancy set of robes, real dragonskin by the look of them, and fairly new, as well. As his eyes reached the man’s head, however, he was a bit taken aback by the freckled boyish face topped with vivid red hair. “I’d let you try a bit if you like, I’m sure you’ll be pleased!”

Harris took a few steps backwards and glanced nervously at the door, “er – no, thank ya, I should be getting’ on anyway,” he mumbled, setting down the frog. Surely Craftspell would have already passed, perhaps while he had been looking over the shop, or while the young man had distracted him, “yes, I think I’d best, um…” As he reached the door, the unmistakable thin, wiry face of the ministry official came out from the storefront across the way, a look of frustration and determination in his eyes. “On second thought,” Harris wheeled about, “perhaps I would like a try, ya never know when ya might get another chance eh, son?”

The young man selected a frog and broke off a bit of leg, handing it to Harris. Harris noted, as he took the proffered limb, that it did, weakly, kick as the chocolate frogs that he remembered used to, but was a sad example of the deterioration of the today’s market. He popped the leg in his cheek and grinned, chewing. He was not disappointed by the taste, but doubted very much if it was worth the three Knuts that they were charging. “Not bad, not bad, though I must say, when I was your age…” Harris stopped – a curious tickle had begun to spread over his lips. He reached a hand up and was met with a bushy mass of hair. “Wha..” he began.

The young man grinned from cheek to freckled cheek and lifted a mirror. Harris gazed at a his reflection, now sporting a short, but impressively thick beard and mustache. As he watched the hair continued to spread, filling out his own sideburns before it slowed to a halt. “Like it?” beamed the co-creator of the candy, “Of course that’s just a small dose, the whole frog would give you a much fuller effect, but sometimes the eyebrows get a bit in the way of yer vision. Right fun to slip ‘em to someone as an ordinary Chocolate Frog – that’s why George said we should animate ‘em. Not as much, of course, just enough to complete the illusion.” He grinned again, obviously rather pleased with himself.

"They’re marvelous!” Declared Harris, suddenly realizing the potential of the treats surrounding him. “Are they, do they all change the way ya look?” He gazed quickly from names like “Potbelly Peppermints,” “Ton-Tongue Toffee,” and “CrabClaw Caremels.”

“Oh, no, not at all – said the man, we’ve got the works, from appearance changers to disappearing candies, to ones that give you a new voice. But here,” he lifted a purple ball from a bin marked “Bulb-nose Bubblegum,” “If you like the frogs, chew this one a bit, just swallow when you want yer nose to stop growin… don’ worry - they’re all carefully tested!”

Harris watched himself in the mirror in awe as he gnawed on the candy for a bit and his nose grew several inches. He swallowed quickly and it stopped immediately. “How long er... How long will these…”

"Most of em’ last a couple hours, ‘course with some you need to bite the antidote end of the candy to make ‘em stop. That’s mostly for the ones that make you ill, though. If you want any of those, you’ll have to put your name on our list, we’ve got a bit of a backlog at the moment…”

"Can I try one of these?” Harris asked, eyeing a bag of jellybeans that claimed to change skin color.

"I’m afraid after two free samples I’ll have to start chargin’,” The young man said, still smiling, but suddenly businesslike.

“Well,” Harris thought for a moment. In the end his frequent and immediate need for cover outweighed his tendancy to be stingy and he said: “alright, I’ll take two of the frogs and another o’ them Nosey-Gum thingums. And, maybe I’ll try a one of the Earlobe Eclairs and, lessee, what do the “Eye-Plop Gumdrops” do?”

“Make you cry, real believable for times you wanna act real sorry or broke up about anything.”

“Nevermind, then, just top it off with a handful of the Jellybeans, then.”

As the man rang up the charges behind the counter, Harris slid a few more items into the pockets of his robes. Thanking the man in his sincerest and nicest voice, he moved to the door. There he was again! The Dragonskin, the red mop of hair, the young man had apparently reached the door before Harris had taken two steps. “Bloody brilliant!” He declared, “Can’t even apparate at all myself, dropped out and never learned more’n two cents about it, but that was the swiftest most silent I’ve ever seen it done!”

"What’s he goin on about Fred?” Said the young man, hanging a sign on the door window, “You all right, sir?”

Harris looked back, there were two of them now. “Dunno, George, just bought a good lot of our new stuff, though, We’ll be needing a whole new batch of the “Fuzzy-Face Frogs” By the end of the week! – Oi, you all right, man?” Fred was looking at Harris, who had only just realized that the new boy must be the brother that he had mentioned.

"What did you give him, anyway, Fred?” Asked George, moving away from the door.

I’m fine, fine, just impressed by the entrepreneurship of you two young lads, I’ll be sure to recommend you all over town, bye now!” And Harris moved to quickly slide through the door, but stopped, reading the sign:

Due to theft, Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes
Is now employing purchase-safe jinxes.
Any products not paid for will attack the carrier shortly
After removal from the premises, to avoid serious
Injury, don’t even think about it! Thank you!


Harris, feigning a low bow, carefully emptied his pockets into the broom holder beside the door, and strode out.




It was a week later when Harris Nightpot found himself joined at the Leaky Cauldron by Hegolus Flynn. “I got ‘em ‘Ariss, got d’ lot of ‘em off a bloke wot din’ know what ‘e ‘ad and won’ know ‘e’s lost it till next week!” The man cackled shrilly through crooked, orange teeth and Harris smelt the firewhisky on his breath.

"Got what, Hedgy, and fer God’s sake keep yer voice down!” He glanced around to see if anyone was listening.

The usual strange assortment of characters occupied the bar: a pair of hooded wizards were talking quietly in the corner, a witch Harris suspected strongly was a banshee was hunched over a glass of something which bubbled greenly at a table to the left and down the bar to their right a Wizard who must have had troll blood in him was nursing a mead glass and reading a week-old copy of the Daily Prophet.

“I got the Snarbeast powder!” Hegolus continued in a loud, rasping whisper, “Dumb bloody fool din’ know it from dried Grindylow droppin’s – that’s what I ‘ad im convinced it was, see!” He flipped open his ragged coat and opened a small pouch to reveal a brownish powder, glistening as if it were wet.

Harris stuffed the man’s coat shut and hurried him out of the bar and down the alleyway, “Y’ damn fool!” he cried at Hegolus under his breath, “You know I can’t sell that if the whole bloody underground knows I got it from you and you lifted it from Grover Parkins! Don’t give me that look, it’s bloody obvious! You were in there just the other day talkin’ at the top of your voice about him and how you was gonna… bloody hell! In here, it’s safer here. No one but kids come this way and they’ll be too busy buyin’ t’ look at us.” Harris led them into the shop he had found a week ago. He glanced at the lettering, 'Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes', and pushed his companion in ahead of him. He had already returned once, examining a few fireworks and poking around the assorted magical knick knacks. He had purchased a joke wand because it made him laugh, one that turned into a carp and back.

"Hol’ on a tick,” Hegolus said, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Hol’ on. Summat familiar ‘bout that name, an’ I know I aint been in ‘ere before neither.” He looked around sharply.

“You’re probly thinkin’ of ol’ Wheezey McTabbard, y’damn fool,” Harris replied, hurriedly under his breath, then louder, “Afternoon boys!” he greeted the twins with a greasy smile, they waved back and resumed their discussion behind the counter, “Back here, Hedgy, you great lump,” and he pulled them into a thin row between suspicious looking Jack-In-The-Boxes, colorful umbrellas, and other magical trinkets.

“Now tell me,” Harris hissed at his companion, pushing aside a bright potted plant to make room to lean on the counter, “where do you expect to find a bloody buyer within a week's time for your confounded powder, eh? I’m not takin’ it off yer hands this time if you don’t have a sure thing or a damn hot lead!”

Hegolus brushed a pair of fleshy strings out of his face, “Don’ getcher knickers twisted ‘Arris, cool y’self down,” he said, eying a young witch and wizard at the far side of the shop, “I got Edgar Graven tellin’ me not two nights ago he needed t’stuff real desperate-like for his potion, an’ he’d take ‘em, no questions asked. No one would know ‘twas me wot knicked ‘em an’ you’d be in the clear, mate.”

“You bloody well better be sure!” Snarled Harris, “the last time I took anything off your hands I would up with a full-grown snaffchuckle on my hands for a week! Chewed up my favorite chair, he did!” He paused, then quickly looked about, “Whoops, quick mate, look interested!” and began to inspect the potted plant.

Fred – or was it George, he could never tell, had just strode up to the men, “Well hello!” He said, jovially, “you said you’d recommend us and sure enough, here you’re bringing friends!”

“Er, thass right, mate. Ol’ Hedgy here was just tellin’ me how right impressed ‘e was with yer whole operation here, wasn’t you Hedgy?” Harris said, shoving Hegolus forward.

“Er, too right,” he replied nervously. “Got something new! Fred’s Handiwork, these,” George pulled out a pair of black sticks, “I’ve been experimenting with Veritaserum,” Both men’s eyes narrowed, “It was Fred who figured out how to reverse it, though, check it out, Liar’s Licorice! Makes you unable to tell the truth! Still experimental, of course.”

Fred came up as Harris inspected the licorice appreciatively. “Just talked to dad in the fire,” he said, pushing back a mop of red hair, “He may be dropping in with a few friends to look around.”

Harris and Hegolus eyed each other, neither liking the prospect of suddenly being found in a shop full of adult wizards, “er, well, we’d really best be movin’ on, nice wares y’got, though,” Hegolus began to edge around the twins.

“Hold on, have a candy first, on me!” Fred handed them both black and white striped candies, which they accepted and stuffed in their mouths, still trying to edge to the door. Before they were able to make it halfway across the floor, however, a series of loud CRACKs announced that Arthur Weasley and two ministry officials had apparated at the head of the shop.

“Hold it right there,” said the twins’ father, a small smile playing on his lips “You two have trouble written all over you.”

“H-Hey now,” Harris stammered, now sweating nervously, “just because we aint fancied up…”

“No, no,” Arthur cut him off, “take a look for yourself, Nice work boys,” and Fred held out the mirror.

“Marked Man Minies, what do you think?” he grinned.

George waggled the fleshy strings at the men as they gaped at the word “trouble” now scribbled all over their skin, “extendable ears,” he said happily, “you should come back for a pair sometime!”

“Really?” Hegolus leaned in to the strings he had so casually brushed aside earlier, “bloody brilliant, that! How d’you…”

“Just shut the ruddy ‘ell up,” Barked Harris, and the Ministry officials led them away.
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