𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗻, cedric diggory

˗ˋ 09

CHAPTER NINE
✧
-: seventh year :-

── IN WHICH THEY STEAL

. . .

"What are skiving snackboxes?" Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth, Rosie spraying a doxy promptly in the face and stuffing it in her pocket. 

"It's quite ingenious really. When have you ever wanted to go to class - never right?" George began, his best friends nodding along. "They're a range of sweets to make you ill. Not seriously ill, mind, just ill enough to get you out of a class when you feel like it. Rosie, Fred and I have been developing them this summer when she wasn't visiting Diggory."

"They're double-ended, colorcoded chews." Rosie rolled her eyes at George. "If you eat the orange half of the Puking Pastilles, you throw up. Moment you've been rushed out of the lesson for the hospital wing, you swallow the purple half which restores you to full fitness, enabling you to pursue the leisure activity of your own choice during an hour that would otherwise have been devoted to unprofitable boredom.'" She finished, glancing rather warily at Mrs Weasley's back.

"That's what we're putting in the adverts, anyway," Fred chimed in, following the Kersey girl's gaze and making sure his mother wasn't looking, edging out of her line of vision and sweeping a few stray doxies from the floor and adding them to his pocket. "But they still need a bit of work. At the moment our testers are having a bit oft rouble stopping puking long enough to swallow the purple end."

"Testers?" Harry questioned.

"Us," said Fred. "We take it in turns. George did the Fainting Fancies — we both tried the Nosebleed Nougat —"

"Mum thought we'd been dueling," said George. "Rosie usually watches those ones, but we've been trying to get her to cry for her tears so we gave her the orange half... but she didn't stop for at least five more minutes after we gave her the purple bit." 

"Completely my idea, as well - reckon the tears could add to the whole healing part." Rosie added on, Harry looking slightly concerned. "I've tried all sorts though, don't look too worried."

"I won't.. I guess. Joke shop still on, then?" Harry muttered, pretending to be adjusting the nozzle on his spray. 

"Well, we haven't had a chance to get premises yet," saidFred, dropping his voice even lower as Mrs Weasley mopped her brow with her scarf before returning to the attack, "so we're running it as a mailorder service at the moment. We put advertisements in the Daily Prophet last week."

"All thanks to you, mate," said George. "But don't worry... Mum hasn't got a clue. She won't read the Daily Prophet anymore, 'cause of it telling lies about you and Dumbledore."

"They sent me out to do it as well. That's sometimes why I go visit St. Mungos so often." Rosie added, Harry looking slightly more interested at the mention of the hospital where Cedric resided. "I do all sorts you know, pick up potion ingredients, scout out possible premises, deliver certain products, put in advertisements in the Daily Prophet." 

"See this is why we're friends with her." George nudged Harry. "She's far too helpful. Even managed to distract Snape when he was here of all places. Usually he's all sweeping around in those idiotic black robes-"

"But she got him talking about the properties of unicorn blood or some utter rubbish and Dung brought us some certain ingredients." Fred continued, looking down at Rosie. "Isn't that right Kersey?"

"Absolutely. It was the most boring discussion of my life but-" 

"You lot, if you're not careful then you'll end up getting bitten!" Mrs Weasley's shouts were less of helpful tips, but more as asking them to get back to work. And with sighs, they split apart, the three best friends pocketing several more doxies until the bulges in their pockets became noticeable.

The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning. Itwas past midday when Mrs. Weasley finally removed her protective scarf, sank into a sagging armchair, and sprang up again with a cry of disgust, having sat on the bag of dead rats.

"Hey - are they doxy eggs?" George mumbled, pulling off his mask and glancing at Rosie and Fred beside him, who followed his gaze to the bucket of unconcious doxies, beside the bucket a bowl of black eggs, Crookshanks sniffing at it.

"I'll get them when we all go for lunch." Rosie nodded to the twins, just as the Mrs Weasley was pointing to their next mission - the dusty cabinets on either side of the mantelpiece, filled with rather strange looking artifacts. In it were a selection of rusty daggers, claws, a coiled snakeskin, a number of tarnished silver boxes inscribed with strange languages, least pleasant of all, an ornate crystal bottle with a large opal set into the stopper, full of what they were quite sure was blood.

The clanging of the door bell alerted the group, the teenagers looking to Mrs Weasley. "Stay here," she said firmly, snatching up the bag of rats as Mrs Blacks screeches started up again from down below. "I'll bring up some sandwiches."

And as Mrs Weasley closed the door, everyone dashing over to the window to look down onto the doorstep, Rosie took several of the black eggs, slipping them beside the unconcious doxies in her pockets.

She suspected they would come in rather useful.

✧