WHO: Dominique & Open WHERE: Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes WHEN: October 25th, 2020. 9:30am
If you had told Dominique a year ago that she would be working at her uncles’ joke shop, selling such items as Demon Dung and Sticky Trainers, there’s a fairly high chance she wouldn’t have believed you. Of course, if you’d tried to tell her she would be doing just about anything a year ago, she probably wouldn’t have believed you. The shop was fairly quiet, though this was far from unusual for a Sunday morning. Their standard clientele were likely still in bed, or in their dormitories at school. Their busiest times by far were the school holidays, and, thankfully, Dominique didn’t have to worry about that just at the moment.
She uses the downtime as an opportunity to restock the shelves – which, granted, she will probably just do with magic after ten or so minutes doing it by hand. She’s alone at the moment, George and Ron having ducked out to do… something. She really should have been listening when they told her what it was. It didn’t matter, though, she figured they’d be back soon, and until they were, she was more than capable of manning the fort by herself. Though she couldn’t lie and say that she found the same sense of enjoyment and fulfilment that her uncles had from running this place, she was determined to work hard, and had managed to learn the ropes of this place in a matter of weeks ( it certainly helped that she’d been here a number of times in her childhood ). They’d thrown her a lifeline when she was floundering, the least she could do was make sure they didn’t regret it.
Besides, as far as jobs went, this certainly wasn’t the worst one. Or at least, she didn’t think it was. She didn’t really have anything to compare it to. She could take lunch whenever she liked, she always had friendly faces to chat to, and she even got to take home free products if they had extra – though she didn’t really have much use for them. She didn’t plan to stay here forever, of course. This was simply a way station on the way to wherever it was she was destined to end up – all she had to do was figure that out. And try to keep her mind off the fact that she had absolutely no idea, and would probably carry the feeling that something was missing with her for the rest of her life.
Dominique frowns down at a box of some sort of device she’s never seen before. It must be something new they’re rolling out – though she has no idea what it is, or where it’s supposed to go. She huffs in annoyance, not wanting to just leave the box now that she’s opened it, but seeing no other choice, when she hears the bell above the entrance signalling that someone’s arrived. “Uncle George?” She calls out, figuring it must be him back from whatever errand he was running, “Do you know where these are supposed to go?” She asks, finally stepping out from behind the shelf to greet the newcomer face to face.
It’s come to his attention that, as of late, Dennis has been wasting his days off. The last few he’s had were largely spent sleeping or watching television (a habit he still tends to keep to himself, for obvious reasons). With the amount of errand and chores he has stacking up, though, he knows he won’t be able to get away with laziness again today.
This has led him straight to Diagon Alley, where he knows he’ll be able find most of the things he needs. Some of them are Muggle items, which will require a separate trip, but Dennis isn’t worried about that quite yet. As he steps further down the lane, his eyes can only focus on one thing: the bright, chaotic store that lies ahead of him. Even now, at his big age, the sight of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes makes him smile. The reminder of simpler times is a welcome one.
And perhaps it’s embarrassing that he’s drawn to it so easily, that his feet move toward the building before his brain has given them clearance, but alas. He’s reaching the door before he really has anytime to consider otherwise.
Dennis heaves it open, unsurprised at how empty it is. He can’t imagine the target audience of such a shop would be awake this early. He’s grateful for the silence, heading toward a cage of Pygmy Puffs, when the sound of a voice makes him jump. He stops in his tracks almost immediately.
“Ah. Sorry. Not your uncle. Just, uh, lookin’ at those guys. Was gonna see how much they cost.” Dennis makes a vague gesture in the direction of the Pygmy Puffs, smiling a little as he does.
