Chapter 142

"Are these really bat's wings?" Tony asked, staring into a basket set outside the apothecary.

"Of course," Hermione replied. "Useful in any number of potions, as is all of the ingredients that you'll find in there."

With a scrunched-up nose, Tony moved on, joining Peter to stare in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Those brooms don't look like yours, Harry," Peter remarked.

"There's a whole range of different brooms, depending on what you want to do," Harry replied. "Speed, sports, leisure, even ones specifically to learn to fly on or for little kids."

"Can I get one?" Peter asked.

"Sorry, mate," Harry said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "You need some magic yourself in order to fly one."

"Monkey Joe! Stop that!" Doreen exclaimed exasperatedly as she tried to fish the squirrel out from inside her shirt where he was burying himself deeper and deeper.

Noting where she was standing, Hermione came over to try to reassure the two of them.

"Those owls are highly trained," she said, indicating the parliament of owls visible in the Owl Post Office. "They won't hurt anyone's pet; they can tell the difference."

"I believe you," Doreen replied. "Somehow, though, I don't think Monkey Joe does."

All of Doreen's squirming, though, had the side-effect of making her tail pop out from her pants.

"Oh, my dear, I'm sure that the healers at St. Mungo's can help you with that problem," an older witch said, intently looking into Doreen's eyes, one hand on her shoulder before nodding at Doreen's tail.

"What?" a confused Doreen asked.

"That tail, dear," the old witch replied. "Was it a transfiguration gone wrong or a curse?"

"It's alright, thank you," Hermione butted in, "there's no need for my companion to go to St. Mungo's."

The old witch gave her a dubious look. "If you're sure, dear."

On the opposite side of the street, Clint had stopped dead, his hands itching to pull a weapon.

"Harry?" he called.

When Harry came closer, Clint simply raised a pointed eyebrow at the large white marble building down the alley, or more specifically, at the two beings standing guard to either side of the door, large halberds in their hands.

"They're goblins, Clint," Harry said quietly. "Incredible warriors and the guardians of the wizarding bank. You don't want to get on the wrong side of them."

"Good to know," Clint replied before moving further down the street, although making sure to keep at least half an eye on the goblins at all times.

"Now that is some advertising," Tony stated, standing dead still in the middle of the street, staring up at the garish orange two story building. "Someone's got some serious balls to pull that off – it doesn't match anything else here on the street, even with their weird magic items in the windows and outside the doors."

Harry had to grin at that, especially as Tony's eyes only grew bigger when the great prankster attached to the top of the building took off its hat, and a flock of bright green pigeons flew out.

"Would it help if I said that I'm a part owner of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked.

Tony tore his eyes from the shop to stare at Harry.

"You? You're a part owner?" he asked incredulously.

"Silent, but yeah," Harry replied. "My friend George is the brains behind it all."

"You've got to introduce us," Tony pleaded.

"Please?" Peter added.

Letting Hermione know where he was going, Harry led his fellow Avengers through the door, snickering at the multiple fart noises that announced their entrance.

"Harrikins!" George exclaimed, bounding over as they entered.

"Hey, George," Harry replied. "I wanted to introduce you to some friends of mine. This is Tony, Peter and Clint."

"Nice to meet ya," George said, vigorously pumping each of their hands up and down. "Any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine."

"Harrikins?" Tony asked, looking across at Harry. "You been holding out on us, Sparrowhawk?"

Harry's head whipped around, a look a relief quickly passing his face as he realised that Tony was just being his usual self.

"I've known George and his family since I was eleven," Harry replied.

"What is all of this?" a wide-eyed Peter asked, looking around.

"These, dear friend of Harry's, are pranks," George stated proudly.

"Really?" Clint asked excitedly, his eyes gleaming, before promptly disappearing into the shelves.

A cold shiver swept down Harry's back. For some reason, he wasn't sure that bringing this lot here was such a good idea after all.

ooo00ooo

Feeling the buzz of his phone in his pocket, Harry slipped away from the mayhem that was Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and into the back room. The instant that he stepped past the curtains, a silencing ward cut off the noise of the customers, the fireworks whizzing about and exploding, not to mention all of the other products that were being tested and the laughter that ensued.

Harry had no doubt that his absence was noted by the others, but he was confident that they'd give him his space. And besides, Hermione was there to keep an eye on them; he just hoped that her level-headedness was a match for Tony's flamboyance and unnatural curiosity – he'd already expressed an interest in recreating most of the magical prank items using 'normal' means.

"Hello?" he said, having hit the 'accept' button.

Instantly, the screen on his phone lit up to show a group of four people facing him. Agent Coulson was expected, even hoped for. The science pair – Simmons and Fitz, he thought their names were – were needed, considering the nature of the call. Skye, was simply a bonus.

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