Date: November 14, 2004
Characters: Gilderoy Lockhart, others maybe?
Location: Out in town
Status: Semi-private (if it makes sense for you to see him, by all means...)
Summary: Lockhart, bruised, scraped, and recovering from the night before, decides to go out and get some business done.
Completion: Complete
(
Adding Injury to Insult. )
Marcel had mentioned that he had some property, and it sounded like it would do for some of the work, but if this plan was to go through to fruition, they would need at least two shops and a warehouse or factory. One would be the tailor/haberdashery shop, and the other would be the yarn/stationery shop. Yes. Two... two locations, and then a place to raise the animals and make the textiles.
As Gilderoy was wandering back to the Five Alarm at rather an alarmingly quick pace for him, he kept thinking about this concept of start-up capital.
There was that manuscript that he had started. How long would it take to get it to a publishable state? Oh, probably several days at the least, and likely a few more weeks at the most. He stopped short in front of a lamppost and thought about it for a moment. Mr. Gerent was interested in reading it, and he had taught Gilderoy that marvelous spell for copying pages.
"Ink. Ink and Parchment. Those come first - along with yarn and fabric. Building blocks. Building blocks before nails and mortar. Raw materials. Muggles? Perhaps not. Someone to brew. Someone who can... oh!"
Gilderoy ran back into the Five Alarm.
"Rose!" he called. "Rose, are you here? Can we talk? Can I have another room?"
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She looked up as she head a voice calling excitedly for Rosie.
"Gilderoy?" Romilda asked as she looked up. "Gilderoy is that you? It's Romilda."
She had only met Gilderoy the day before, but his exuberance made her smile - he made Liam smile too, and that was something that they both needed right now.
"Rosie's not here at the moment Gilderoy, can I help you with anything?"
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Romilda was called over to another gentleman at the bar who began flirting with her, telling her she had pretty eyes (which she did) and that color looked good on her (which it didn't really, but it wasn't terrible), and that she could sell him another butterbeer just with her smile.
"Yes! Yes you can help me, Romilda! And you might just be helping youself, as well."
Gilderoy went over to the other end of the bar and took her away from the other gentleman. "Sorry, I need to discuss something important with her."
He brought her all the way over to the end near the kitchen. "Have you ever done any modeling?" he asked in a half-whisper.
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"Pardon, did you say modeling?" she clarified, half in disbelief, and half with a smirk.
She did like to think she was fairly good looking, but to have someone ask this made her unconsciously flip her hair over her ear and her smile broaden.
"Well, I can't say I have, but there's never really been an opportunity..." Well, there had, but she's hexed that Muggle photographer's camera when she realised the sort of photos he'd truly wanted. "...What with the war and all."
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He took a step back and smiled at her, nodding as if to verify the truth of what he just said. "Also that shawl she likes with the honey-gold fringe, the lace on her twill skirt with the chrysanthemum prints, nearly all of her socks, her scarf, and all of those dishcloths in the kitchen. They're all mine. Well, they're hers, but I made them for her in exchange for food and rent."
Gilderoy put his hand on her arm. "Don't tell anyone yet, okay?"
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But the shawl looked lovely and warm, and the dishcloths, she had to admit, were lovely and soft and cleaned very well.
"That's such a resourceful way to make a living, Gilderoy," she replied. And she was honest. Who else would have thought to knit socks as payment for the food at the house-elf restaurant."
"Don't worry, Gilderoy, your secret is safe with me," she tapped the side of her nose and gave him a wink.
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"Of course it is! So, here's my idea. I open a clothier/haberdashery shop. I already have workers for the actual store, itself, but I'll need to drum up some business. This means I'll need someone to model the clothes, wear them, tell people where she got them - you get the idea, right? So, I will give you cards with my shop's name on them. The customers come to you, compliment you, you tell them where they can get clothes as fine as the ones you are wearing, and you give them a card. For each ten cards that they bring me, you get to keep whatever it is you're wearing, and I give you something new to wear." Not bad. giving her a ten percent commission in advance so to speak.
"When a mode of currency is decided upon, of course, I'll just give you the straight ten percent commission on everything you sell. How does that sound?"
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"So all I have to do is wear the clothes, give out the cards, and I can keep the clothes?" She knew what she really wanted to say to such a generous offer. "Yes!" she said eagerly, before really thinking the whole thing through. It seemed too good to be true.
"But will you be doing any children's clothes?" she added quickly. "My son Liam could assist you there, although he tends to accessorise with mud - he's only four."
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