A rash decision, a good amount of gold, a few weeks of formalities and the joke shop on Diagon Alley was finally his. Oliver Greenwood had invested in property. His father would probably be proud ..if he knew.

He unlocked the shop and stepped inside. Something akin to a satisfied smile crept it's way onto his face and remained there, sitting comfortably fixed in place as he looked around at the very familiar shop. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was his. It brought about a feeling of childlike glee; an oxymoron mixed with the sudden feeling of being a 'proper' adult, doing adult things like investing in business.

Albeit, the most fun business on Diagon Alley. heh.

He took his time looking around at everything in great detail: the pygmy puffs and the jokes and gags and the boxes of fireworks and the prank sweets and all the other nick knacks just begging to be played with. The shop was a disorganised, cluttered, colourful, beautiful bizarre. It felt almost wrong to move anything from it's place and attempt to tidy up and organise things, so he left everything exactly how it was (the chaos suited Oliver just fine), except for a box of ton-tongue toffees he picked up on his way past the display.

He opened the door and took his rightful place behind the counter –the caution stripes were well cool—and placed the box of ton-tongue toffees on the counter, opening it to allow customers to take one if they so wished.. or dared.

..This.. this was going to be interesting..