Screaming My Silence.

One: Tiramisu and Dragons

I am Zipporah Kingston and sometimes I feel like bashing my head against a brick wall... But that's hardly the note to start this story on, is it? If it were a nice story, I would tell you my life is fine; but it isn't exactly what I'd hoped for. I'd tell you that there isn't anything that I especially wanted; but, trust me, I ache for the one thing I can't have. I'd tell you that I'm happy; but some days I can't bring myself to crawl out of bed. I would tell you a lot of things if I could. But that, right there, is precisely my problem.

No one listened to me. I was unheard in this world of restored peace. I was a mute, and had been since my nineteenth birthday, when the Death Eaters came to my house during the summer. I was on the receiving end of a nasty curse and had since been unable to utter a word. And it would stay that way, forever. All the Healers, wizards and witches could not find me a cure. Trust me. I asked them all.

I ground my teeth and lifted the pile of books higher, reaching to stack them on the shelf. The dim light in the room seemed darker today, but perhaps it was just because I was in a foul mood. I seemed to be in them a lot now. I worked in a bookshop in Diagon Alley (the far end, much quieter) and had been here the last five years. I sighed as I finished packing the new crime books on the shelf and stepped away. I sullenly dragged the empty box behind me as I made my way back to the store room. If I was going to be sad, I may as well act it. I sat down on the small, worn-down chair in the corner of the storeroom and sighed again. It's not like I'm going to be busted for slacking off or anything, I mean, it is my shop.

I had opened Kingston Books a year after the fall of You Know Who, and exactly a year after the attack on my house. And I loved it. I would never leave my dusty shelves for anyone, except Charlie Weasley, but that right there is a lost cause.

Laurezia stuck her head in. "Your brother's here, Zipporah," she said before stepping out again. You may all want to groan when your little brother comes to visit you at work, but for me that is not the case. Benjamin was my gift from God. And I would be dead without him. And no, I'm not exaggerating.

I quickly walked to the front of the shop, to where my brother was lounging casually against the counter. I smiled widely at him and waved. He grinned and stepped forward, enveloping me in a tight hug.

"How're you doing, Zippy?" he asked me, holding me at arm's length and running his eyes over my body. "Seriously, mum owled me to tell you to eat more."

I smiled and shrugged. He resumed leaning against the counter. Looking on, one would be thinking that he was waiting for me to say something. But he wasn't, because I couldn't. I raised an eyebrow at him and gestured to the shop.

Why are you here?

Benjamin had an uncommon grasp of my 'language'. Sure, I can use my wand to spell out the words in the air, but it's difficult and there's no point whatsoever when he understands me perfectly fine.

"Just came to see how you were doing. Is that a crime now?"

I shook my head, still smiling. Ben came to see me once a week, at least, and had done since he'd finished Hogwarts three years ago. Before that, he'd written to me practically daily. Look 'dedicated' up in the dictionary and you shall find the name 'Benjamin'.

"When's your lunch break?" he asked. I glanced at the clock - one in the afternoon - and shrugged.

Anytime. Because, uh, I own the place.

He laughed at my expression. "I brought some lasagne and tiramisu if you wanted to wander over to the fountain?"

I shook my head in fervent agreement. Benjamin's tiramisu was not something to turn your nose up at. I held my hands up at him.

Give me a minute?

"Sure, sure," he replied to my unspoken question. I darted quickly through the shelves and back to the store room. Laurezia was in there, a clipboard in hand, as she went through the new stock. I had hired her last year to help me out. She was an excellent assistant and I was more than happy to leave my shop in her capable hands. Sometimes she brought her young daughter in if she couldn't find a sitter. I loved it. I waved at her to get her attention. Her blue eyes focused on me. I pointed at my chest, then at my stomach, then at my brother and finally at the door. She understood.

"That's fine, Zipporah. I'll just finish up here and go man the counter."

I smiled my appreciation at her and walked quickly back to where Benjamin was waiting. "Ready?" he asked. I nodded and we strolled slowly to the fountain. It was a Monday and Diagon Alley was very tame. It was the middle of the school year at Hogwarts, so there were no loitering teenagers. Basically, it was just mothers and small children. We sat down at the fountain and Benjamin reached into his bag, bringing out two containers of lasagne. He handed one to me, as well as a fork. I smiled at him.

Unclipping the lid, I reached in with my fork and took a bite. It was delicious. Ben had left Hogwarts and gone to some magical culinary school in Italy. He was a fabulous cook and was Head Chef at the fancy restaurant, Aries, in Hogsmeade. Quite an achievement, I assure you.

"Zippy, I wanted to ask your opinion on something. Something pretty big."

I nodded for him to continue and I took another mouthful of the heavenly lasagne.

"Uh, so me and Mafalda have been, you know, pretty close," he said, referring to his girlfriend of two years. I liked the bubbly girl. It amazed me how she could be happy all the time. Seriously, some people needed to tone down on those pills. "Yeah, er, so I wanted to ask you if... well..."

I rolled my eyes at him and waved my hand.

Go on...

"Well, if I should ask her to marry me."

My eyes bulged. That was a shocker. I had not been expecting that one. I looked up into Ben's face, trying to decide how to react. His caramel-coloured eyes, exact replicas of my own, were filled with tension and his dark coffee coloured skin was stretched over his face in a half-expectant smile. His short black hair was slicked back, but a few strands fell in his eyes. Mafalda Weasley had a lucky catch right here. My brother, Benjamin Kingston, was a pretty good-looking kid, I must say (in a totally non-weird way).

I took a breath and pulled him into a hug, setting my lasagne on the seat behind me. I nodded at him, my glorious smile must have said it all, because he suddenly started grinning and laughing. I reached my palm out and pressed it against his chest, right over his heart.

I hope you two are very happy together.

And he nodded at me. "Thank you," he whispered.

We finished our lasagne and moved on to the tiramisu without a word, both too wrapped up in our private speculations to say much. Not that I could say anything, but you know what I mean.

I 'told' Ben that I had to get back to work about ten minutes later. He nodded and packed up his now empty containers.

"Me too. So, I was going to ask you to come ring shopping with me. I have bad taste in that sort of thing, you know."

I stared at him a moment before nodding my agreement. I held up my hand and curled my fingers to make an 'F'.

How's Friday?

"Yeah, Friday's good. I'll pick you up from your apartment?"

I nodded holding up my fingers again, this time to signal a ten.

"Ten o'clock. I'll be there. Thank you." He hugged me again and stood back.

Don't mention it. I would not have it any other way.

I gave him one last smile before quickly walking back to the shop. I tapped a few times on the counter to let Laurezia know I was back. She was obviously still in the storeroom. She called out to me.

"Big order just came through!" she said. "I just started packing it. Would you mind bringing me one of those new delivery boxes we ordered?"

I reached under the counter and pulled out the palm sized cardboard box. It was pre-charmed to be small and virtually weightless, making it perfect for owl delivery. I took it to her. She thanked me and began to pile a whole stack of books into the tiny box. Magic truly was amazing.

I reached for the list. Scanning it quickly, I grabbed a quill. I pointed at me, then the list, and then the feathered pen.

Do you want me to write up the receipt?

She looked at me in confusion. "Sorry, I didn't get that?"

I sighed and pulled out my wand. I whipped through the air, focussing on the words in my head. The letters appeared in a pretty emerald green in the air, in exactly my handwriting.

"Oh, sure. Thanks!"

I began to scribble down the information. I was proud of my handwriting. It was an elegant cursive and I loved it. My communications skills hadn't been all that crash-hot a few years ago and I had dedicated myself to altering my illegible scrawl into a readable script, seeing as I would be telling people my thoughts by my quill. I was very pleased with the results.

The afternoon passed quickly and Laurezia went home to her daughter and husband. I stayed back an hour, ringing up the money in the register, before trudging upstairs. Yeah, that's right. I live in an apartment above my shop. It's quite nice actually. Very comfortable. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small laundry, a living room and a kitchen. I loved my little home. I changed out of my work clothes and settled myself on the lounge.

I glanced at the book I was currently reading on the coffee table. For some reason I could not be bothered to pick it up. I was too... out of sorts to read. I leaned my head back, my tangled mass of black curls nestling against the cushions.

My brother was going to propose. Wow. That was soon. He was only twenty-one. I wondered if our mother knew his plans yet. Probably not. She was still in the Caribbean.

I lifted a leg an placed it on the coffee table to get more comfortable. My thoughts automatically drifted back to that night, six years ago, as they usually did when I was alone.

Was there anything I would have done differently that night? Maybe I should have screamed a little louder when they broke down the door. I remember I had been downstairs on the couch reading. It had been late, well past midnight. I heard a loud crack as they apparated to our doorstep and a crash as they blasted our front door off its hinges. I had leapt off the couch upon seeing their Death Eater masks and bolted for the stairs. I had forgotten to scream. And if I did, it would have been drowned by their yelling and laughing. I pounded up to Benjamin's room. He was sixteen, and could not apparate yet. I yelled for mum to go, that I had Benjamin. She ran into the room and made to grab us, trying to side-along somewhere. The Death Eaters came in then. They blasted mum out of the way and she hit the wall and crumpled. I grabbed her foot and dragged her back to where we huddled. I had never tried to side-along two other people before. But, damn, I was going to.

The Death Eaters began flinging horrible curses everywhere. One hit me. It felt like I was choking and I kept spitting up blood. It was everywhere, all over the white carpet. Benjamin was yelling and flinging hexes back at them. I managed to disapparate, holding tightly to my mother and brother. We went straight to King's Cross. I don't even know why I picked there.

Benjamin revived mum, while I tried to stop vomiting blood. Really, it was all I could do just to keep it in. I hadn't tried to talk, so I still didn't know the extent of the curse. Mum and Ben had taken me directly to St Mungo's. I remember spewing blood all over one of the Healers. Not happy, Jan.

They stopped the bleeding. I have a Dark Rune carved into the back of my throat. They're ancient, Black Magic. I hadn't known of their existence before being admitted to the hospital. They have removed my ability to speak, like forever. Sure, I can still grunt and groan and scream and yell, but I can't form words.

I was one of the lucky ones; I had to keep reminding myself. No matter how hard this is, I could have been killed. Someone once asked me why I didn't disapparate straight away. Well duh, my mother and brother were still fast asleep upstairs.

My life is actually fairly normal. I finished school with an O in Charms, Herbology and Ancient Runes and an E in History of Magic and Transfiguration, the rest were all A's except for Potions, in which I got a D. I was in Ravenclaw, but I wasn't as academically focussed as some of my housemates. I just enjoyed reading and writing.

***

I woke the next morning still sprawled out awkwardly on the couch. I ran my hand through my frizzy black hair and was surprised when I didn't have to tug it viciously through my wild curls. I glanced at my watch. It was eight in the morning. i gasped and leapt off the couch. I was meant to be opening the shop now! I ran into the bathroom and practically threw myself in the shower and got dressed at a hundred miles an hour.

I ran down the stairs and into the shop. I sighed in relief when I realised that no one was waiting angrily outside. I unlocked the doors and emptied the money into the register.

Laurezia wasn't coming in today, it was her daughter's birthday party and she had asked to take the day off. It was fine; Tuesdays were always painfully quiet. Literally, I usually had no customers at all.

I packed shelves for a few hours in the morning and then started on the bookwork. I hated bookwork. It was all meaningless numbers and statistics. I leaned over the steadily lengthening piece of parchment and dipped my quill in the inkpot. I looked up when I heard a jingle as the door was pushed open. I put my quill away and placed the parchment on the stool behind me to dry.

From my position behind the counter, I peered around the shelf that obscured the exit. Someone was angrily limping towards me, but the only thing that caught my eye besides his flaming red hair were the saddest brown eyes I had ever seen.

I pulled out my wand, preparing to wordlessly answer him. He looked furious and terribly sad all at the same time. I think I recognised him from somewhere, but I'd be damned if I could recall it.

"Hello," he growled when he reached me, placing one hand on the counter as if he wanted to snap my poor bench in half. "I'm looking for a book on dragons."

I flicked my wand, concentrating on the words I wanted to produce. The bright green handwriting appeared. Fiction or informative?

He growled. "Informative."

I nodded and stepped out from behind the desk and led him through the shelves. I had to walk slowly because it was obvious he had a problem with his right leg. I wanted to ask him about it but refrained because he seemed to be in a bad enough mood already. I was loath to be one to make him even angrier.

I held my hand up and pointed at the three shelves in this aisle. I flicked my wand once more, the green words saying: Just call out if you need anything and there's a reading desk at the back.

He nodded his thanks and turned to the many books that lined the shelf. I walked back to the counter, keeping my eye on the red-headed man as he pulled book after book off the shelf. When he had a pile approximately the height of a small child, he carried it awkwardly over the reading desk I had pointed out. He sat down and began pouring through the first book.

I went about my business and the man stayed there the rest of the day. i couldn't explain why I just had to look at him, it was... gravitational. He kept pulling my caramel eyes to him, and who was I to refuse nature.

Finally, the end of the day came and I packed up the register, emptying the money, ready to take to the slowly growing Gringotts vault that was under the name of Kingston Books, when I realised that I should probably tell my angry customer that I had to close up.

Once again I pulled out my wand. Excuse me. I'm sorry, but we're closing now. Is there anything you would like to purchase?

He looked up, those sad brown orbs meeting my own honey ones. "No. I'll be back tomorrow."

I nodded and smiled. I grabbed half of the books on the desk and he grabbed the other half. We carried them over to the correct shelf and started stacking them. I was glad of his help; it would have taken me at least fifteen minutes to do it by myself.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," he said suddenly. I glanced up at his boyish face. The tanned skin was covered by a dusting of freckles. He looked ashamed of himself.

I shook my head and held my hands out, symbolising that I held no grudge.

He nodded. "Charlie Weasley," he said and he stuck out his hand. Like the rest of him, the skin was tanned, and I could see the cording of prominent muscles in his arm.

I grasped it and shook firmly before whipping my wand through the air. Zipporah Kingston.

He smiled and the anger that had been previously held in his face seemed to melt out like wax under a flame. "Well, I shall see you tomorrow, Zipporah Kingston."

My heart thudded as he left my shop. I should have known he was a Weasley by his flaming hair. There was something that was bothering him, that much was obvious. I couldn't help but wonder about how he had hurt his leg. And I really couldn't help thinking about how cute Charlie Weasley was as I walked up Diagon Alley to the wizarding bank.

I wondered about my brother's impending engagement to Mafalda Weasley. I wondered if she was related to Charlie. She probably was. The Weasleys were a big bunch. I brightened at the thought of perhaps seeing Charlie at the wedding.

Wait. What am I thinking? I don't even know the guy!

And besides, I would see him tomorrow anyway and I could ask him if he had a cousin named Mafalda then. I felt a tug of happiness in my chest. I liked Charlie Weasley; he seemed to be a pretty nice bloke.

By the time I had finished at the bank and made my way back to my apartment, I had almost completely forgotten about Charlie Weasley. Unfortunately, his absence from my thoughts was short lived; when I came down to open up Wednesday morning, he was waiting at the door. I smiled as I let him in. Maybe he would stay all day again today. I couldn't help but hope so.

AN:
New one everybody! Please review me!

xox xox