Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

cauldron, Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley,’ she said.
    Harry found it very odd to hear Fred and George called ‘Mr Weasley’, but they took it in their stride.
    ‘Right you are, Verity, I’m coming,’ said George promptly. ‘Harry, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge.’
    ‘I can’t do that!’ said Harry, who had already pulled out his money-bag to pay for the Decoy Detonators.
    ‘You don’t pay here,’ said Fred firmly, waving away Harry’s gold.
    ‘But –’
    ‘You gave us our start-up loan, we haven’t forgotten,’ said George sternly. ‘Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask.’
    George swept off through the curtain to help with the customers and Fred led Harry back into the main part of the shop to find Hermione and Ginny still poring over the Patented Daydream Charms.
    ‘Haven’t you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet?’ asked Fred. ‘Follow me, ladies …’
    Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary.
    ‘There you go,’ said Fred proudly. ‘Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.’
    Ginny raised an eyebrow sceptically. ‘Do they work?’
    ‘Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question –’
    ‘– and the attractiveness of the girl,’ said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. ‘But we’re not selling them to our sister,’ he added, becoming suddenly stern, ‘not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve –’
    ‘Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,’ said Ginny calmly, leaning forwards to take a small pink pot off the shelf. ‘What’s this?’
    ‘Guaranteed Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher,’ said Fred. ‘Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don’t change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?’
    ‘Yes, I am,’ said Ginny. ‘And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?’
    She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.
    ‘Pygmy Puffs,’ said George. ‘Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?’
    ‘I dumped him, he was a bad loser,’ said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. ‘They’re really cute!’
    ‘They’re fairly cuddly, yes,’ conceded Fred. ‘But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren’t you?’
    Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil.
    ‘It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you ,’ she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, ‘not to tell tales about me to these two!’
    ‘That’s three Galleons, nine Sickles and a Knut,’ said Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron’s arms. ‘Cough up.’
    ‘I’m your brother!’
    ‘And that’s our stuff you’re nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I’ll knock off the Knut.’
    ‘But I haven’t got three Galleons, nine Sickles!’
    ‘You’d better put it all back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves.’
    Ron dropped several boxes, swore and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Mrs Weasley, who had chosen that moment to appear.
    ‘If I see you do that again I’ll jinx your fingers together,’ she said sharply.
    ‘Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?’ said Ginny at once.
    ‘A what?’ said Mrs Weasley warily.
    ‘Look, they’re so sweet …’
    Mrs Weasley moved aside to look at the Pygmy Puffs, and Harry, Ron and Hermione momentarily had an unimpeded view out of the window. Draco Malfoy was hurrying up the street alone. As he passed Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, he glanced over his shoulder. Seconds later, he moved beyond the scope of the window and they lost sight of him.
    ‘Wonder where his mummy is?’ said Harry, frowning.
    ‘Given her the slip by the looks of it,’ said Ron.
    ‘Why, though?’ said Hermione.
    Harry said nothing; he was thinking too hard. Narcissa Malfoy would not have let her precious son out of her sight