Chapter Text
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“Potter, what’s this?”
“I had Bulstrode do some sketches.”
“These aren’t just sketches, Scarhead. They’re preliminary plans.”
“Based on my sketches?”
“Merlin. . . . what’s this one?”
“Apartment building. We have that property in Wizarding Ruislip. We demolish that old building and rebuild.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a nice piece of property but, the building is a piece of junk and an abandoned eyesore. It’s going to be housing for the Lycanthropy patients and it needs to be nice. It’s a nice location.”
“This looks like a Hotel, Scarhead.”
“It’s not.”
“There’s a circular driveway entrance and a fountain.”
“Yeah. Like I said, it would be comfortable and nice . . . there are flats for singles, couples and Families. With access to the parks, an easy route to Diagon and Knockturn.”
“This one needs cooking, Scarhead.”
“Yeah, it needs some work, but it’s a way to start.”
“What the hell is this one?”
“That’s my pet project. Let me work on that some more. You’re not supposed to see that yet, it’s my personal project.”
“The fuck?”
“UGH!”
“Potter?”
“Hear me out?”
“Start talking.”
“It’s a museum for all of the potions labs in the vaults. The Junk Shop has constant traffic for the Stinchcombe lab. . . . you’ve seen some of the others. . . it’s like a big magical spiral with stops to view the labs . . . . chronological . . . . start with the Stinchcombe and move upwards through the eighteen laboratories from the Peverell vault, another four if we bring in replications of your Grandfather’s lab, Snape’s lab from Prince Manor . . . . and up top the most modern ones, like the new Hogwarts and your Penthouse lab. . . . on the roof is a garden of most poisonous plants and a coffee shop. . . there’s a central lift to bring you back down, but also can stop at any of the levels to view any of the labs, so let’s say an elderly person doesn’t want to trek all the way up the spiral, but wants to visit a certain lab . . . . there will be maps and guides. . . . . on the ground floor a reference library and gift shop and welcome centre.”
“The actual FUCK, Potter? This is the New York Guggenheim on Double Engorgio.”
“No it’s not, the design is completely different. The only thing similar is that it’s a round building.”
“It’s thirty two levels!”
“Room for expansion . . . . and to be fair, halfway up is a state of the magical art lecture auditorium. Above that a convention space for . . . whatever . . . ingredients vendor displays or a potion master’s after-party . . . . and this level is reserved for potion people banquets and other shite, but there’s also a food court for the general public . . . the Snape Wing has the entire exhibit from the Junk Shop including the interview thing theatre.”
“Potter, you can’t do this!”
“Why not?”
“Who’s going to run it?”
“Potion people who are interested in potion people things and history . . . . . Recommendations for staff from the Harpies Center Employee’s Unions . . . . . Guides for the exhibits can be done by the Wizarding Historical Society. They’ll like to be included since we’ve shunned them at the Junk Shop and won’t let them into Dec’s Manor.”
“Where do you think you’ll put it?”
“Lankashire. . . on the site of the old Peverell Manor. The land is huge, and there’s nothing left there but a ruin and a sketchy old tower . . . Barrow-in-Furness. We leave the ruin and use your portkey transport from the Junk Shop to the museum like you did with the Magizoo? The property is protected, and the Muggles will never even know it’s there . . . . The local Muggles could use an economic boost too, it’s really a cute town, and potion Wizards and Witches know how to be discreet. I can imagine that the grounds would be a nice place for a picnic.”
“Merlin. You’ve thought this out . . . . of course you did . . . . ”
“Not everything, just the basics of things. The potions masters could hold their bigger convention there, not only the smaller one here at Grimmauld?”
“Oh Merlin.”
“The Draco and Scorpius Malfoy-Potter Museum of Potions History.”
“Oh fuck no.”
“Oh fuck YES.”
“We’re not dead, Potter.”
“I hope not, that would make me very sad. Tell me that you love it.”
“Potter. You can’t be serious.”
“Don’t lie. You LOVE IT.”
“Okay I’ll admit that I like everything about it but the name.”
“That’s just crazy talk, Draco. If you seriously protest, we can come up with something better later.”
“What’s this one . . . . . . ?”
“That’s just a list. I’m doing the radio for Lee tomorrow night.”
“Since when?”
“Since he asked me to do it. Like the Hogwarts kids do on Thursday nights, but since they’re on break I’m going to do it for them instead. The kids thought it would be fun?”
“Oh Merlin. What are all these songs?”
“It’s a special collection of tunes I’ve curated just for the broadcast. Davey’s coming over to be my co-host. He helped me pick the songs.”
“What the fuck?”
“Okay, Davey picked out all of the songs, but we're calling it “Grampa Harry’s Extravaganza Of Songs To Embarrass Your Teenagers While Dancing In The Kitchen” . . . “night”.”
“Oh. My. Gawd. Davey isn’t a teenager.”
“That’s the beauty of it. . . and the Creevey Brothers are setting up a camera in the corner of the Snowflake, so if you don’t want to be seen on the Wiznet live feed you’re forewarned to stay out of the kitchen.”
“I don’t believe this. Did Jamie and Teddy approve of this?”
“Yes, of course, and they think it’s hilarious . . . . What’s not to believe? It’s just for fun.”
“Is Davey bringing over his drum set? I suppose that’s next.”
“No just a Tamborine and some bongos.”
“Christ.”
“It’s for Charity. There’s a prize!”
“What prize?”
“Everything you need to make carrot cake muffins. I’m giving a super easy recipe, and the muffin pans, a measuring cup, whisk and stuff, all the ingredients can be picked up from Abigail’s. . . . and a mixer . . . and . . . . well, some tea towels and other stuff. I’m going shopping in the morning. I haven’t made that list yet, Al’s going to help me . . . . . Davey and I are going to make muffins during the broadcast.”
“Muffins.”
“Not only muffins, we’re making dinner too, the muffins part is for the tasty contest.”
“How is that for charity, Scarhead?”
“Because people can donate on the Wiznet to benefit the food bank. A donation isn’t required to enter the contest.”
“And what is the actual contest?”
“I’m going to play a song clip backwards. The first person to guess it right wins the prize.”
“And what’s the song?”
“I’m not telling you because you’ll cheat and try to get the recipe AND win the fabulous prize!”
“MERLIN.”
“Okay, the song is Miley, and the clip sounds pretty much the same forwards or backwards so it’s easy to guess. The boys and some others are dropping by for dinner, so I'm making casseroles . . . . chicken and courgette with penne and tomato sauce . . . serve yourself and dance to a tune. Chrissy wants to help beat the eggs for muffins with her special fork, but if you don’t want her on the Wiznet broadcast I’ll have her do it out in the dining room.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Well, Chrissy can’t give me her consent, and you’re her other Parent, so if you don’t want it . . .”
“I don’t care if Chrissy beats an egg for your stupid Wiznet show, Scarhead.”
“It’s not a show it’s just for fun.”
“It’s not like everyone doesn’t know that we have a Daughter, or what she looks like. If that camera is truly staying up in the corner of the kitchen you’ll only see the back of her head anyway.”
“Okay, so that’s what’s going on tomorrow night . . . cooking, dancing, music, dinner and muffins.”
“Davey helped you with your selections? How much Wham! is on your playlist?”
“Only three songs, but one is George Michael solo.”
“S Club?”
“Two. . . . but the whole thing is three hours long, so. . .”
“THREE HOURS SCARHEAD????”
“Yeah?”
“That’s a lot of cooking.”
“And dancing like idiots . . . Davey’s making juices and Grampa Trandy is serving fruit cocktails.”
“You’re putting an ELF on the Wiznet?”
“It’s not like it’s the Mugglenet. It will be just fine. It’s just us hanging out in the kitchen.”
“Does Trandy understand what you’re doing?”
“Yeah, he’s bringing his Percy mug to show off his WWN winnings and encourage people to donate and enter the contest.”
“OH. MY. GAWD.”
“WHAT?”
“Somehow you’ve turned playing some tunes on the radio into a charity fundraiser event with an Elf, and crazy dancing children in your kitchen . . . . with knives.”
“Nobody’s dancing with knives, Blondie. There might be a whisk microphone or two, but that’s the extent of it, and it’s not an event. It might be if you show up and do some dancing with us.”
“NO.”
“Why not? It really is only for fun.”
“Only if you play that car washing song.”
“What?”
“I’ll dance with you to that because you’ll look more ridiculous than ever.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That car washing song. ”
“Are you talking about fucking Rose Royce?”
“You would know it. The automobiles never stop coming through the queue, and the car wash owner doesn’t mind if you act like an idiot. . . . an exemplary employer.”
“HA!”
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