When the four of them finished their butterbeer and stepped out of the Three Broomsticks, the rain had finally subsided.
"Let's go to Zonko's Joke Shop first!" Fred suggested immediately, clearly afraid that if they went to Honeydukes first, they'd blow all their remaining pocket money on sweets.
"Alright," Albert said. His eyes had drifted toward the candy shop, but he was genuinely curious about what sort of products a joke shop—one heavily praised by those three—actually sold.
Zonko's Joke Shop sat right beside Honeydukes, separated only by a narrow residential house. Like its neighbor, it had large glass display windows packed full of tricks and prank props.
The bell above the door chimed as they stepped inside.
"Welcome," Zonko greeted them cheerfully. He set down his newspaper and stood up behind the counter, a Wizard in his forties with a warm, mischievous smile.
The shop was filled with all kinds of peculiar goods. Albert closed his umbrella and walked toward the display window to examine the items.
"Auto-Answer Quill," he read aloud.
"This handy fellow helps you with troublesome subjects," Zonko said with theatrical enthusiasm. "It'll write most answers for you!"
"Impressive," Albert replied politely, though he wasn't tempted at all. Trying to sell an Auto-Answer Quill to a top student was like offering a calculator to someone who could already compute with perfect instinct.
He simply didn't need it.
Next to it was a broom. Albert leaned in to read the label: Runaway Broom.
Apparently, when a Wizard tried to fly it, the broom would flip upside down and drag the rider head-first. It had five different modes: crazy spin, sudden braking, backward flight, bucking like a wild horse, and a dramatic throw-off stunt.
It only flew three meters high.
Just a toy broom—and it cost 15 Galleons.
Albert's mouth twitched. He turned to check on the others. Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were hovering around another counter. Curious, Albert joined them.
Inside the cabinets were bars of soap, each containing suspicious dark dots.
Frog Spawn Soap.
According to the label, the more you washed with it, the dirtier you got.
Next to those were teacups. Albert didn't dare touch them, because the sign read: Biting Teacup.
Pick it up, and it would chomp down on your nose—sending hot tea everywhere.
Wonderful.
One careless moment and even an experienced Wizard might fall victim to it.
"What are you planning to buy?" Albert asked.
"Dungbombs," the twins replied instantly, almost proudly.
"Hiccup Sweets and Squeaking Fudgies," Albert said, deciding he couldn't leave the shop empty-handed. He bought both.
Hiccup Sweets caused five straight minutes of uncontrollable hiccups.
Squeaking Fudgies were shaped like little mice. Fred immediately volunteered to try one. He bit down—and the fudgie let out a shrill, lifelike squeal. Fred yelped in fright, jaw dropping so wide the fudgie fell onto the floor.
"How does it taste?" Albert asked.
"Pretty good. Just normal fudgie."
"What about you?" Albert asked Lee Jordan.
"I'm thinking about this," Lee said, pointing to a frisbee lined with sharp teeth.
"This is a Fanged Frisbee," Zonko said, picking one up and tossing it. A snarling roar echoed through the shop as it whirled past. "Careful—don't let it bite you."
He slipped a sheet of paper into the frisbee's mouth. In seconds, it was shredded to confetti.
Quite destructive.
"I'll see if there's anything else," Lee muttered, discouraged by the price tag—three Galleons wasn't exactly cheap.
Before leaving, Albert bought two Inflatable Screaming Skeletons—small, fist-sized bundles that would inflate to human size when thrown, scream loudly, then burst into white powder that coated the target's face.
Lee Jordan purchased a Sticky Extendable Hand, a rubbery appendage that could stretch and recoil. When thrown, it latched onto the nearest ear with a loud pop, startling the victim without hurting them.
By the time they stepped out of Zonko's, all four were carrying large paper bags brimming with joke items.
Lee Jordan also had a bag of dungbombs.
Fred and George kept glancing at Albert, baffled.
"Why didn't you get dungbombs?" they asked, almost offended. Coming to Zonko's without buying them was practically against their religion.
"I'm not interested in that kind of stuff," Albert said bluntly.
Dungbombs were filthy just to touch. Once thrown, they exploded into sticky sludge accompanied by a vile rotten-egg stench.
They were practically biological weapons.
"You'd better not stink up the dormitory," Albert warned them sharply.
"Don't worry, we'll be careful. We bought them to deal with Filch," George said darkly. He clearly hadn't forgotten the punishment involving bedpan scrubbing.
"That place was fun, wasn't it?" Fred said with a grin.
"It was. Very interesting," Albert admitted. Then a thought struck him. "Actually, you three seem to really like joke items. You could open your own shop someday."
He remembered they would open one after graduating—and quite successfully.
"That's actually not a bad idea," the twins said, eyes lighting up. They clearly hadn't thought that far ahead before.
"You'll need solid spellwork for that. Some of these items involve alchemy too," Albert reminded them, turning a candy over in his hand.
"What about you?" George asked.
"I haven't decided yet."
Albert had decided—but not openly. His real plan involved the New York financial sector. Easy work, big money. With the experience and quest rewards he was stacking, he'd graduate with maxed-out finance and economics stats. Making money while lying down? Perfect.
Then again… prophecy sounded profitable too. Pick winning lottery numbers, become a multimillionaire overnight.
Or get a Time-Turner. Win the lottery repeatedly. Anywhere, anytime.
Actually, finance still seemed more stable.
Magic-based money-making was tempting, but getting caught by the Ministry would be a nightmare.
Prophecy was safer—so long as no one knew he was a Seer.
While Albert plotted his future fortune, the group entered Honeydukes.
The twins had already emptied their wallets at Zonko's, but that didn't stop them from browsing. They could always buy sweets next time—once they had money again.