The four boys finished their warm Butterbeer. Lee Jordan was now pleasantly thawed and his robes were steaming gently, no longer dripping. By the time they emerged from the Three Broomsticks, the rain had stopped, leaving the cobbled streets shining under the oppressive grey sky.
"Right, let's hit Zonko's Joke Shop first!" Fred urged, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. He was focused on securing his essential items before any brightly packaged confections at the neighboring sweet shop could deplete his remaining pocket money.
"Agreed." Albert diverted his gaze from the vivid, sugar-coated displays next door at Honeydukes. He was genuinely curious about Zonko's, the rumored epicenter of wizarding mischief that the twins spoke of with such reverence.
Zonko's Joke Shop sat snugly beside Honeydukes, separated only by a narrow, crooked house. The shop front was just as colorful as the candy store, its large glass windows crammed with an array of bizarre, brightly colored joke props and peculiar gadgets .
As they pushed the door open, a bell tinkled sharply.
"Welcome, gentlemen!" A wizard in his forties, with a slightly mischievous, friendly smile, emerged from behind the counter. This was Zuko, the proprietor. He set down his newspaper and greeted his young, eager customers.
Albert, having folded his Muggle umbrella, moved towards a large, glass-fronted display cabinet, examining the goods with a detached, clinical eye.
He stopped at an intricately carved quill. "Automatic Answering Quill," he read the name aloud.
"Ah, yes! A perfect writing companion for those pesky subjects," Zuko chimed in smoothly, instantly moving into salesman mode. "It can certainly handle most of the questions for you!"
"It is indeed a well-designed item," Albert conceded, but internally, he didn't agree it was a good purchase. Selling this to a genuine academic like himself was pointless; it was like providing reference answers to the student who writes the textbook. He obviously didn't need it.
Next, his eyes fell upon a small, sleek toy broomstick. Its description read: Rampage Broom.
The accompanying text boasted that when a wizard attempted to mount it, the broom would instantly reverse, forcing the rider head-down. It offered five customizable modes, including "crazy spinning," "rapid braking," and "ejection." The maximum altitude was proudly specified at three meters.
Albert's face twitched as he saw the price: fifteen Galleons for a toy that guaranteed mild trauma. He turned to check on the others.
Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were huddled together near a different section of the counter, their hands hovering over a selection of disgusting novelty items. The cabinets were full of bars of soap embedded with peculiar black specks—Frog Egg Soap, the label read, promising to make the user dirtier the more they washed.
Next to the soap were peculiar, oversized teacups. Albert wisely refrained from touching them, noting the prominent warning label: Bite-the-Nose Teacups. The description promised that once a person attempted to drink from the cup, it would suddenly snap shut, biting the user's nose and liberally spilling the hot contents over their face.
All right, Albert thought. Even experienced wizards could be caught off guard by these.
"What are you two stocking up on?" Albert asked the twins.
"Dungbombs," the twins chorused, already gathering a handful of the shiny, bronze spheres.
Albert, feeling the social obligation to buy something, picked out a few brightly packaged sweets. "I'll take some of the Burp Drops and those Squeaky Gummy Candies."
The Burp Drops were hard lozenges guaranteed to cause loud, rolling hiccups for a solid five minutes. The Squeaky Gummy Candies were shaped like small, bright pink mice. Fred volunteered to test the latter immediately. He bit into the gummy, and a piercing, mouse-like squeak erupted, making him instantly recoil and drop the candy in mock terror.
"How does it taste?" Albert asked, amused.
"Not bad, actually," Fred mumbled, recovering quickly. "Just regular, overly sugary fudge."
Albert then turned to Lee Jordan. "And what are you investing in?"
Lee pointed wistfully at a frisbee with vicious-looking, sharp teeth circling its edge.
"Ah, the Wolf's Tooth Flying Saucer!" Zuko announced, picking one up and demonstrating. He threw the frisbee across the shop; it whizzed and roared, emitting a sound like a hungry beast. "You do need to be careful when playing with this, mind. Don't let it get hold of your fingers."
He dramatically fed a scrap of paper into its jagged mouth, and in the blink of an eye, the paper was shredded into confetti. The toy was undeniably lethal-looking.
Lee looked disappointed. "Three Galleons. It's a bit pricey for a frisbee." He reluctantly put it down.
Before checking out, Albert added two Inflatable Screaming Skeletons to his order. These small, fist-sized packages, when tossed, would instantly inflate to a person's height, emit a piercing, unholy scream, and then explode, showering the victim's face with harmless, fine white powder.
Lee Jordan, inspired by the retractable hand display, bought a Sticky Retractable Hand—a rubberized novelty that could be flung across a room to grab the nearest person's ear.
When the four of them left Zonko's, they were laden with large paper bags. Lee Jordan, against Albert's advice, had also purchased a small sack of Dungbombs.
"Seriously, Albert, why didn't you buy any Dungbombs?" George asked, genuinely puzzled. "It's the best item here."
"No," Albert said flatly, pulling his collar up against the lingering chill. "I am not interested in things that leave a lasting, disgusting smell of rotten eggs everywhere they go. It's a biological weapon, not a joke. And it's messy."
"You'd better not make the dormitory stink," Albert warned, staring directly at George.
"Don't worry, we'll be careful!" George promised, though the sincerity was questionable. "We bought this specifically to target Filch—that chamber pot punishment still smarts."
"That is a great target, isn't it?" Fred asked, his eyes gleaming.
"It is a great, and very interesting, place," Albert confirmed, giving a slow nod. A thought struck him, connecting the twins' passion with their evident skills. "You know, you three genuinely love this kind of prank and novelty item. Maybe you should consider opening a similar joke shop after you graduate."
The twins' eyes widened in unison. Unlike Albert, who had a clear, albeit evolving, career plan, they had never seriously contemplated their future beyond the immediate next prank. "That's a brilliant idea!"
"You'll need to learn your Charms and Transfiguration well," Albert reminded them, picking up one of the squeaky gummies and inspecting it. "These novelties involve complex alchemy, subtle enchantments, and maybe even a little Muggle science."
"And what about you?" George asked, turning the question back on him.
"I haven't decided yet, precisely," Albert lied smoothly.
He certainly had no intention of giving up on entering the high-stakes, low-effort world of the New York financial sector. According to his Panel's knowledge accumulation and skill development tasks, he could enhance his financial and economic skills effortlessly after graduation. Making a fortune by doing virtually nothing sounded far more appealing and sustainable than running a shop.
Besides, he mused, with my skills in Prophecy becoming more refined, I could predict the next $100 million lottery win or major market shift without breaking a sweat. The Time-Turner, once acquired, would only enhance that capability. While using outright magic to make money was risky—the Ministry of Magic was a threat—using foresight was undetectable. Finance was a better method.
With these thoughts of multi-million dollar futures swirling in his mind, the four boys walked into Honeydukes Candy Store. Even though the twins were now virtually penniless after their spree at Zonko's, they entered anyway, treating the candy store as a museum of confectionery wonders, perfectly content to window-shop and plan their next visit.