Free Fudge

Michael loved Honeyduke's fudge. He could make fudge well enough himself, but there was something about Honeydukes fudge that he couldn't resist. But Honeydukes was crowded today with wizarding tourists. And that just would not do. If he waited for long, the dark chocolate fudge would be gone. No, this was war. It was time to act.

He 'borrowed' a friend's boggart. The poor thing rarely got used anymore, which was a crime really. It was quite a nice one. It fit compactly into a wooden box that sat on top of an old upright piano in the cellar and rattled periodically out of annoyance. So--Michael decided it was time to let it out.

He took the box to the back door, opened the door and let out the boggart. He took the empty box and went around to the lamppost near the front door of the shop, picking up a discarded copy of the Quibbler. He opened it and started to read. Any minute now, and he could not only have his fudge but he could do it in peace. Unless someone figured out it was only a boggart. Then he might have to share. Bah. They could have all the rest of the candy in the shop. He just wanted the dark chocolate fudge.

Ah, Honeydukes, probably Jacks favorite place to be, besides his bedroom, and Hogwarts. He was given permission by his mom to come here to gather supplies she might need for a tonic to help his horrible disease. So far, it wasn't working. He stopped at Saint Mungo's earlier today and stocked up on the rash cream and everything he needed. He was fine for now, but the medicine would wear off any minute now, so he needed to get his stuff quick and leave. But no one could leave Hogsmeade without stopping at Honeydukes. It just wasn't possible.

Jack was dressed in his usual attire, except for a facemask to cover up his nose and mouth so he wouldn't be breathing any noxious germs and diseases. He was turning into a real germophobe now. He picked through the different candy in the great shop, when a scream was heard in the back of the shop. a Patron was pushing through the crowds, his face stark white as he made his way to the door. After a moment of silence, the rest of the store slowly followed, as their worst nightmares started to appear.

Jack looked around, raising his eyebrows at everyone. What was so scary? He looked over someones shoulder, only to witness a huge spider the size of Jacks head. He paled and took a step back, while everyone was running out the doors, tripping over each other. Not even the store owners were staying. God, people were so dense. How could everyones big fears all show up at once? At one point, before the lady turned around and pushed another lady out of her way to the door, a dead body was floating in the air.

All this just wasn't possible in Jacks eyes. He sighed, before pulling his wand from his sleeve. He looked around as the store was quickly emptying. Finally, it was his turn to play. He raised his eyebrows at the Boggart, who was quickly beginning to take its turn for Jack, but it never finished before Jack whispered quietly-

"Riddikulus."

Why should he say it out loud and spoil the fun of everyone else leaving the shop? Now he had it all to himself. He could get whatever he wanted, maybe that delicious dark chocolate fudge that this store possessed. He grinned at the thought of eating it, and the thought of owning it, and his smile couldn't be contained. He pictured the Boggart, now in a plane, headed straight towards him, turn into a Model plane, and slowly disassemble for the outside-in. He grinned as it did so, and sat down as the shop was now entirely empty, entirely his. He looked around for a moment, admiring his handiwork before getting up and walking towards the counter containing the fudge.

Michael had slipped in silently and saw the boy. Well, there had to be one, didnt there? He was fine with that...oh wait. Check that. Maybe not so fine. The fudge? Michae's fudge? HIS fudge? The one thing he'd worked so hard to get?

Without a sound, he reached out and clutched the boy with a clawlike grip on the back of his neck like the jaw of a snapping turtle.

"Ask nicely and I might share," Michael said quietly. "As I figure, 9 pounds for me, and one for you." Michael knew if this kid ever figured out that he wasn't nearly as intimidating unless he really truly intended to be. If the kid ever wormed his way into Michael's likings. Then Michael's chances of getting 9 pounds of dark chocolate fudge would be significantly more threatened. He would be pursuaded to share a bit more evenly.

But...just in case...if he got snarky...hm...what should he turn the lad into? The choices were endless. Maybe some sort of plant, perhaps? After all, the boy was already well on his way to being green anyway.

Jacks shoulders stiffened as the man clutched his neck. Now, he didn't know who it was, so that kind of ruined any hope that this guy would be nice. He could feel the grip on his neck, and judging by the mans voice, he seemed pretty old, probably closer to middle aged of anything. He wouldn't be too hard to take down if presented, except for his probable extensive knowledge of magic. He looked out of the corner of his eye and nodded.

"Here's te deal, friend. And I use that term very lightly, since I don't know you, and you seem pretty bent on getting your fudge. How bout you get off me please and thank you, before I jinx you. And please be nice, cause we both don't want to get in a fight, I assure you. My mom is in desperate need of that fudge."

Jack already had his wand pointed right at the mans eyebrows, on the bridge of his nose. He had it far enough away to pull it away from te man if he tried to snap it, but close enough to be able to shoot in point blank range. He also knew quite an extensive array of spells, so he may be able to outthink and win the man over with his spells. But he needed to get the grip off of his neck.

He surveyed the fudge, which was sitting on te counter in front of him. The fudge pieces were sitting in a glass cover atop the counter, and we're also covered in plastic wrap under the cover, so as to save the brownies from getting dirty when they picked the fudge from the plates and put them into their bags. Across the brownies was another counter, that was held above the ground by legs that were about 4 inches off the ground. He thought real quickly before saying-

"Think fast."

Before flipping his wand towards the cover, pulling it off, and using the spell 'Pelsum!' the brownies flew away, and crashed to the ground, sliding under the counter. He admired his handwork, all done with incredible hand speed and coordination.

"Me or the Fudge, sarge. You can't have us both. Better get them, or the fudge will get dusty."

"That wasn't very nice, but you did at least say please," Michael said, avoiding the temptation to laugh. He liked the boy's bravado. That was a plus in his book. He didn't care for spineless people. "And by the way, if you're going to pilfer the fudge, do learn to do it right. I don't believe you came here because your mother wanted the fudge. I do believe you came here because you wanted the fudge. Go ahead. Crash it. Then we're both out. " He absently picked up a couple of ice mice and ate one, walking in front of the boy and turning around to lean back on the counter.

"Ice mice. Not as good as the fudge. Have you tried the new peanut butter pixies? Bloody hard to catch once you set them loose from the wrappers. Damned near impossible unless you use an immobilus spell on them. If you dont' catch them, they drop to the floor when the fluttering spell wears off and they break and get gooey. But its good peanut butter filling." He accio'd a foil wrapped peanut butter filled pixie. "Give it a try, Hot Shot. See how well you do."

"As long as we're partners in this burglary, we really should at least exchange names. I'm Michael. And you are?"

"I'm not a Peanut Buttery guy. More sweet and sugar if anything. And Chocolate. Anything chocolate related I will own."

Jack raised his eye brow. He couldn't help but feel a bit cheated by this guy. First he wanted that damned fudge, now he wanted conversation with Jack. The Hogwarts soon-to-be-graduate had to admit he was devilishly charming and handsome, but not enough to stop a middle aged man from war. I mean, grappling his neck for the fudge he wanted. A bit much, if you asked Jack. He flicked his wand downwards, muttering,

"Accio One Dark Chocolate Fudge Piece."

And caught it as it flew at him from under the counter.

"Names Jack. Can I call you Mike? Anywho, I really am here on a Joyride. I came to order supplies for my mom and while everything goes ready I came to get myself and my sibs something to much on."

He pulled the wrapper off the fudge, taking a bite out of it. He really didn't care whether it was covered to the brim with dust and dirt, or if it was still shining new. It was fudge, and that was enough to know. He placed his wand in his pocket, where the handle was still sticking out nicely, and could easily be pulled out if needed. He spun around on his heels, pulling a bag from the counter, and made his way to the opposite wall, where candy was held and the most prized pieces were. Picking up an Acid Pop and showing it to Mike, he asked,

"Do these really corrode your tongue and what not?"

"I wouldnt do that, unless you really like pain," Michael said, watching the boy pull out an acid pop. "Yeah, they do burn holes in things. I have a couple friends at St. Mungos, and they're always plugging holes those things leave. They're not even a good prank, really. There are a lot better things to use as pranks, and much as I like sour candy, that ones just not very good. I don't think anyway." He walked to the back and got a small handful of Tongue Twisters. He brought out the innocent looking hard candies and handed them to him.

"Try these. You lot haven't figured these out yet. If you did, you'd pick those instead. They're called Tongue Twisters for a reason." They were so seriously sour that nobody could eat even one of them without their mouths going into a severe pucker. The lemon ones sometimes took some of the 'weaker' eaters up to an hour to get their mouths to go back to normal. And what Michael liked was that they were so overlooked that they were a lot cheaper. A person could get ten Tongue Twisters for the price of one Acid Pop.

He pulled out a licorice whip, and there came a rather angry slapping sound from the olive green canvas messeger bag he had flung on his shoulder. "Stop it," Michael looked at the bag. "Its not about you. Stop being jealous. Its licorice, you nit." Something in the bag make a distinctive sound of blowing raspberries at him. "I'll leave you home next time," he said, scowlling at the bag, taking a bit off the licorice whip.

Jack nodded at the mans words, before pocketing the Acid Pop, and grabbed at the Tongue Twisters. His step-dad would have a hell of a time trying to cure himself. Jack enjoyed getting innocent looking things for his step-Dad, which usually ended up screwing him over later. He cracked his knuckles before taking another bite out of the fudge, finishing it off.

"Uh, your bag on meds or something? It looks like it needs to calm down a bit."

Jack raised his eyebrow at the strange bag. He hadn't seen a talking bag yet, so it was still relatively new to him. He grabbed a piece of candy off the shelf, didn't know what it was or anything, and threw it at the bag, awaiting a reaction or something. He looked back at Mike and asked,

"So, Mikey-Bear, what you work as? You doing anything with your life or like me?"

"My bag needs to be on meds," MIchael said. An instant later, in response to the candy being tossed at the bag, the 'thing' in the bag began tossing out one brand new black sock out of the bag, and another, and another, and another...." Alright, Hiss. Stop it. The dogs won't eat them if they're dirty. And they're not good for the puppies either if they're dirty. " He put forth his open hand, and the socks accio'd back to his hand. He opened the bag, and the rope inside stood up like a cobra and began to make angry gestures at Michael. Michael tossed the socks back in the bag. "You're being rude, Hiss. We have company. Chill and be nice or I shall let Snidely use you as a leash for the dogs." He tuned back to Jack.

"Jack, this is Hiss. He's jealous of the licorice wands. He knows the muggles call them 'ropes', and he doesn't want me to replace him wtih another rope," Michael explained. "Hiss, this is Jack. Be nice. I'm not replacing you for a piece of candy. Seriously. You ought to know better." The rope made a waving gesture to Jack.

"And what do I do for a living?" Michael laughed. "Interesting question, that. I work for the Ministry. I work in,...well, intelligence matters." And that was true. When there was something exceptionally sensitive, Michael was the man Robert wanted to handle it. "I specialize in not being surprised by a whole lot."