A/N: This is Beater 2 of the Chudley Canons checking in for the first round of finals for the QLFC.

Prompts: BEATER 2: Set your story in Horizont Alley

7. (word) history

13. (object) padlock

Word count (before A/N): 3,000 words exactly

I am not JK. This is her world; I merely dabble.

Summer 1995

"I-I'm sorry, sir, but I just can't afford it!"

Daphne toyed with a little glass figurine of a werewolf, it's crystal-clear eyes staring off into nothing. This was the third time today she'd heard one of her father's tenants say they couldn't afford his rent.

"I find that hard to believe," Mr. Greengrass said, he's eyebrows knitting in the middle of his forehead like a frightened caterpillar.

Daphne's father was a prominent businessman. He took pride in the shops he was a landlord to, and he often worked with his tenants to make their businesses flourish.

Yet…

This was the third shop that wasn't planning to renew rent.

"You've paid on time every month, Mr. Abington. Why can't you afford it now?" Mr. Greengrass said. Mr. Abington didn't notice the frustration in her father's voice, but Daphne did. She was frustrated too. How could so many people up and leave their businesses-their livelihoods-on the same day?

Daphne looked around the room. Mr. Abington ran a menagerie of magical glass trinkets blown in dragon's fire. No one was shopping around. For the first time that day, Daphne thought that maybe this tennant really couldn't afford her father's rate-after all, who really needed a ten-foot tall glass gryffin in their parlor room?

"I haven't raised the price in years, Warren," Mr. Greengrass said desperately. But Daphne knew. Just like she knew in the last three shops. Abington was out.

When Mr. Greengrass opened the shop door onto Horizont Alley, his deep purple robes billowed in the wind. Daphne stepped out after him, welcoming the summer sun on her bare shoulders.

"Bloody You-Know-Who," Mr. Greengrass muttered.

Daphne walked closer to her father.

"You-Know-Who?"

Mr. Greengrass grimaced. He stopped. Carefully, he looked around, eyeing the children flocking to Pilliwinkle's Playthings across the street, their parents happily wrapped up in their own affairs, smiles on their faces.

Mr. Greengrass placed his hand on Daphne's shoulder. She was tall for fifteen, but he still stooped down so that only she could hear.

"This happened last time, too. When He started to rise in power. People fled, left everything behind. My father worked hard to keep his tenants happy, but no such luck. Fear is a bigger motivator than discounts on rent, unfortunately. And I fear history is repeating itself."

"But the Prophet said-"

"That boy died, yes?" Mr. Greengrass stood, his eyes landing on Flimflam's Lanterns. "Daphne, why don't you walk around. This will be a while, and I know you don't want to spend your summer working."

He stepped onto the cobblestone street and disappeared into the crowd. Daphne sighed.

Cedric Diggory had died, and Harry said it was Voldemort. Daphne was lucky that her family hadn't ever joined the Dark Lord's side, despite being Pureblood. It was a piece of pride in their family, actually, the ability to remain neutral.

For a few moments after Harry and Cedric returned to the maze's entrance, all Daphne could do was stare at her classmates. Solemn, sallow faced. Tight-jawed and wide-eyed.

Did Malfoy know? Did bloody Parkinson? Would Daphne have to pledge loyalty or remain above it all? Would she be ostracized by her house? It wasn't like she had friends anywhere else at school.

But then the Prophet said Harry was lying, and Daphne put it all out of her mind.

Now, she feared, she would be in for a very trying school year. Unfortunately-

"Oof!" her body slammed into another walker. The poor soul flew backwards, arms flailing, until they fell hard on their bottom.

"Sorry!" she reached out a hand to help.

"No, no it was-"

Daphne looked into Fred Weasley's eyes and started to laugh. He gave her a giant smile.

"Well, well, Mr. Weasley, it seems practical jokes weren't enough. We're turning to slapstick comedy now," she gave him her hand and hoisted him up.

"Gotta put bread on the table somehow, Ms. Greengrass," he smiled.

Okay, so maybe she had one friend at school, but Fred wasn't about to turn his back on all of Gryffindor to keep her company during Voldemort's regime, that was for sure.

But… that would be then. She was here, now.

"What are you up to this lovely summer day?" Fred offered her an arm, so Daphne linked hers with it. She let him lead her back down Horizont Alley, toward Mr. Abington's Glass Menagerie and Pilliwinkle's Playthings.

"Following my dad around. He's landlord of Horizont, you know," she said.

"That's right!" Fred stopped suddenly, pulling Daphne with him. "Does he have any spaces available over on Diagon?"

Daphne looked at Fred, and for the first time since she met him, she saw s look of excited sincerity.

"I could ask."

"That, Ms. Greengrass, would be amazing," and he kissed her on the cheek.

Summer 1996

"That was quite an exit," Daphne whispered to Fred. "I didn't get to tell you earlier."

It probably wasn't the best time to mention Fred and George's exodus from Hogwarts, but it truly was one hell of an exit. Umbridge nearly shat herself; it was well-deserved justice in Daphne's opinion.

It had been a trying year at school after all, with the Prophet spouting nonsense and Parkinson playing a vengeful prat.

Anyone in the Slytherin common room stupid enough to hang around when Pansy entered was stuck listening to how great the world was going to be once the Mudbloods and Muggles were gone, and didn't you just agree?

If you didn't, you earned yourself a stinging hex and silence from the entire House.

Daphne shuddered. Now that You-Know-Who truly returned, it wasn't going to be much better. At least her father's business wasn't completely falling to pieces.

"Thanks," Fred whispered back. He was dressed in his very best robes. Navy blue. They made his impeccably red hair stand out even more, but it suited him. His twin, George, was also in his finest.

Mr. Greengrass smiled.

"Congratulations, boys, you are now proud business owners."

Daphne heard Fred let out a sigh of relief.

"I must say," her father continued, "it's an interesting time to open up a business-not that I want to lose my newest tenants. Still, it will be a challenge, what with-everything."

"Oh, You-Know Who? Minor detail," George said.

"We're more interested in bringing laughter to the world than cowering in fear or what have you," Fred added.

"Well, good to hear. Good luck, boys. I am rooting for you," Mr. Greengrass shook each of their hands in turn, then looked at Daphne. "I have to visit with one of my tenants on Knockturn. You don't have to come if you're not interested."

Daphne nodded. Her father exited, his signature purple robes surrounding him like a tornado. When the door closed, she looked at each Weasley, but no one knew how to proceed.

Finally, George spoke.

"So, how did you two meet?"

Daphne looked to Fred.

"Remember when Sirius broke into the castle and Dumbledore thought it was a good idea to have a school-wide slumber party?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," George smirked.

"Well, I couldn't sleep, and you were like a giant, snoring logman, so I decided to start charming the floating candles to burn different colors."

"Snape didn't appreciate his artistic flair," Daphne said. She couldn't help adding her side of it; it had been too funny. Their potions professor decided that instead of scolding the Weasley, he'd direct all the wax to drip on his sleeping bag.

"And Daphne here couldn't stop giggling every time a giant drop of wax splashed down. So... we started talking."

George nodded like he was sitting in on a McGonagall lecture.

"Well, you two go reminisce about wax while I slave over the renovation of this place," he waved his arms around him dramatically.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had found a home in the best property Daphne's father rented. Three floors, a huge supply room, and right on Diagon Alley.

"Oh shut up," Fred rolled his eyes. "You have fun with Angelina. We'll be wandering around town."

He slipped his hand into Daphne's and led her out of the store. Outside, the streets were bustling with hurried shoppers constantly gazing over their shoulders, their packages clung to their chests.

"Wow, your dad wasn't kidding," Fred mumbled. He pulled her away from the crowd, his hand never leaving hers.

Daphne held her breath as they weaved in and out of passersby. Unfriendly faces greeted her left and right, but somehow she wasn't put off by their unpleasantries. Fred still held her hand.

When they stopped on Horizont Alley, she felt him grip her fingers harder.

"What happened?" his eyes scanned the closed shops, padlocks clamped around door knobs to prevent vandals and the homeless from wandering in while the tenants-the many, many tenants-chose not to return.

"This is what fear looks like," Daphne sighed. She pulled her hand from Fred's and walked toward Weeoanwhisker's Barber Shop. It was one of three stores still open, and it wasn't even one of her father's tenants.

"Hey, wait," Fred caught up with her. He paused, waiting for her to stop and look at him. When she did, he dramatically raised his hand, fingers spread, up to his face. Daphne watched as Fred's hand dove toward her own, gently re-lacing their fingers.

"It's like a magnet, I can't control it."

Despite herself, Daphne laughed.

"Of all the corny ways to say, 'hey I like you…' "

An idea popped into her head, suddenly, and it felt so right, she couldn't help herself.

She dramatically pulled her hand from Fred's, his eyes watching it as she lifted it up to her face, fingers spread. In her peripherals, she could see Fred was smiling at her own antics.

She shot her hand toward his face, wrapping it around the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Fred rested his forehead on hers.

"It's like a magnet," she blushed, her bravery gone. Now she just felt like the biggest fool. "I couldn't control it."

She half expected him to laugh at her, but instead his lips found hers again, and they were locked in a tight embrace, the blinking moustache of the barber shop flashing like fireworks.

Summer 1997

Daphne watched as her father's face exploded in blotches of red. He didn't blush or have his blood stain his skin when he was mad; no, he blotched, like a child riddled with poison ivy.

"I will not kick them out, Stuart. No."

Stuart Fawley, her father's business partner, scowled.

"They refuse to leave yet they refuse to pay. They're squatters, Greengrass."

"They're afraid," Mr. Greengrass said through gritted teeth.

"I don't care," the portly man said. He was balding in the middle of his head, and that, combined with his shape and stature, made him look like a bowling ball with sideburns. Daphne didn't much care for Stuart Fawley.

"Well, I do care, Stuart," Mr. Greengrass said. "And that's that."

He stormed out of the tiny office off the side of Gringotts where he worked. Daphne followed close behind, not wanting to be alone on the streets.

Diagon Alley had really turned upside down in just two years. After Dumbledore was killed, wizards and witches alike looted the whole place. The only store that withstood the panic was Fred's, and that's because he and George saw it as free publicity.

They had let the looters come in and take whatever they wanted, free of charge, so long as they told their friends and family where the products came from.

"I can't believe that man," Mr. Greengrass huffed, pulling Daphne back to the present. "He's going to turn. He'll follow him this time."

"Follow who?"

"You-Know-Who. Fawley's family was neutral last time, but his spine is malleable," he stopped short.

"Daphne, darling," he said, his green eyes boring into hers. "I don't mean to frighten you, but I fear that there will be mass murder soon. Followed by a war I do not intend to join. And just so you understand, I have been asked."

Daphne felt a lump grow in her throat.

"By-by-"

"You know."

She felt her heart skip a beat. This was not what she intended to do today. Every summer for as long as Daphne could remember, she would visit with her father three times a week and learn about the real estate on Diagon Alley. It fascinated her, getting a glimpse into the lives of the shop owners.

She had slacked off last summer, what with Fred and everything, but she fully intended to make up for it this summer-one she knew would be chaotic and dismal due to everything going on.

She didn't plan on hearing about You-Know-Who talking to her dad. That was never on the agenda.

"Why don't you head over to Weasleys'," he finished.

Once he left her, however, she didn't much feel like heading over to the joke shop.

Her feet led her to Horizont. After kissing Fred last summer, she couldn't stop thinking about that blasted alley and its lackluster shop windows. It hurt her heart to see so many places closed, not only because her father suffered but also because the people were on the run or in hiding.

It was a scary thought.

Daphne stepped off the road and onto a tiny patch of grass that was next to the lantern shop. It was no bigger than two people, and her father just couldn't seem to sell it to a buyer. Daphne always thought a nice bench or statue could fit here. Maybe with a fountain. But when people couldn't even afford to run a business, how could they be expected to build a shrine?

"Daph?"

Quickly, she turned around. Fred held up his hands.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "You okay?"

"Huh?"

"You're shaking," he kissed the top of her head. Daphne smiled, but it didn't reassure Fred.

"I was just thinking about all the people who are in hiding," she said. "And I started to freak out, I guess, because my dad said-"

She looked at Fred, uncertain if she could say the rest. His family were big fighters against You-Know-Who, and she was stuck in limbo with the Purebloods who planned to wait it out and see.

Somehow it didn't feel right.

"Your dad…"

"Uh, nevermind. I'm mostly worried about his own business tanking, but that's selfish."

"Not really," Fred hugged her again. "I don't want my own business to fail either. I do worry about the people fleeing though… it's hard to watch."

"Mhmm."

They stood for a moment before Daphne decided she did not want to stare at some empty patch of grass during what may very well be her last few days with Fred before everything erupted around them.

"Let's go to that shop of yours," she smiled. "I'm in the mood for a laugh or two."

"That is one thing I know I can do."

"How'd you find me anyways?" she asked as they left the alley.

Fred stopped and looked at Daphne conspiratorially.

"Magnets," he whispered, and she laughed the whole walk to the joke shop.

Summer 1999

The flashing sign of Weeoanwhisker's Barber Shop greeted Daphne as she turned the corner onto Horizont Alley. Although many of the stores had just earned tenants in the last few months, Daphne could see the street coming to life again.

Mr. Abington waved to her from down the way, carrying his ten-foot tall gryffin into his menagerie.

The war had been beyond brutal, but it was finally over, and the newest partner in the Greengrass business had to get to work.

"Hello, George!" Daphne greeted her very first client.

"Hello, Daphne," he smiled at her, and for a moment Daphne had to pause and remind herself that Fred was gone. Over a year now. She shook her head slightly.

"So what can I help you with today?" she pulled out her notebook where she kept her father's tenant's information. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Daphne knew, was fairing extremely well post-war. When George owled her that morning, she wasn't entirely sure what he might want on Horizant.

"I've been cleaning out my flat," he said, unable to meet her eyes. "Fred's stuff. I found a diary-I couldn't believe it. The wanker never said a bloody word to me. Anyway, I learned that this alley-it, uh, well, it was special to him. Like a magnet."

Daphne felt her face heat up as those words hit a piece of her she thought had already healed. She nodded, letting George know she understood.

"I'd like to honor that memory somehow, maybe with a plaque or something," he said. "But I need to buy the space first."

Daphne cleared her throat.

"There's a tiny patch next to Flimflam's. It's perfect for a small memorial," she couldn't speak much louder than a whisper, but George was already walking toward it.

"Sold," he said, standing in the space. "We'll plant something… a tree or a flower bed."

"A fountain, maybe?" she asked.

George nodded. Tentatively he wrapped his arm around Daphne's shoulders. It was a bit odd at first, and Daphne wanted to push away, but then he said, "You should really visit once in a while. It would be nice."

When the war ended, it was rough reeling from the loss and death and destruction. Losing Fred had made the pain tenfold. The Greengrasses didn't fight, and Daphne regretted it immensely, because maybe she could have done something.

Time moved on though, and regretting something she couldn't change only hurt her more. Instead Daphne decided to devote her time to the future, helping people's livelihoods grow again.

Now she could help Fred's memory live on in a tiny grass patch on Horizont Alley.

"I think that's an excellent idea."