Magic Tricks

Chapter 6

"What are you doing?"

"Ahh!" Emma screamed, jumping almost a mile.

George had apparated into the empty shop, right behind Emma and given her a scare.

"George!" she said crossly as he laughed.

"What are you doing?" he asked again, looking over her shoulder at the notepad in front of her.

"I was just writing," Emma said meekly, trying to hide the book, but George had already snatched it away and was hopping out of her reach, reading it.

"Ooh, murder-mystery," he said. "Are you writing a novel?"

Emma sighed, giving in. 

"I'm just trying. Listening to your stories, I just got inspired to start again," she said. George beamed at her.

Emma put her head on the table as she watched George flip the pages, reading her writing.

"I used to be in the literary club, back in my school," she said. She didn't know why she was saying it, but she felt she ought to.

"I really liked writing. But then...then...it happened and...," she trailed off. 

"I didn't think I'd start again, so thank you for everything," she said with a sad smile.

"Glad to be of service," George grinned. 

Emma took a deep breath. "Tell me, why are you early today?"

"Eh, slow day at the shop," George shrugged.

"You are so cool, you know that?" Emma said suddenly, causing George to look up from the book, eyebrows raised.

"Thank you...?" he said uncertainly. 

"No, I mean it," Emma said sitting up straight and resting her chin on her palm. "You are only eighteen, and are already running a joke shop, and by the looks of it, is very successful,"

"I'm eighteen too, but I have no idea what I am supposed to do," she said desolately. "I can't stay here forever. I don't want to be a burden,"

"Well, what do you want to do?" George asked, putting the notepad down and pushing himself up onto the counter.

"I don't know," Emma sighed. "I really don't. I'm just trying to get through the day, honestly,"

George stared into the distance for a while, then said, "Why don't you write?"

"Write?" Emma said, almost incredulously. 

"Yeah," George nodded. "You write good, and since you don't have an idea yet, you can start with something, am I right?"

"I'm not that good," Emma said. "And what can you do with just writing? It's not a money-making job, is it?"

"That's what mum said when we said all we wanted to do was run a joke shop," George said. "She wanted us to get into the Ministry. But who wants to sit behind a stupid desk and do boring paperwork,"

"What I am saying is, you won't know until you start," he said. "We started out with simple pranks and trick sweets that were popular among kids. But look at us, now, eh?"

Emma cracked a smile. 

"Don't you have an optimistic view of life," she said.

"Let's go," George said hopping off the counter and going towards the door and beckoning her.

"I can't," Emma said, with a weak smile. "Carol isn't there to look after the store,"

George groaned. "Then we'll have to wait, won't we?"