"Put that down, Jim'll take your trunk, won't you Jim?" said Anne Hide, flashing her husband an affectionate smile before turning back to Pat, "Now you're sure you'll be OK upstairs? You've got your own sink, but you'll have to share the main bathroom with Jim and I. And it does get a bit noisy in the evening, so I do hope you'll be able to sleep alright. Oh, and I'm awfully sorry but we've been having a bit of a problem with frimbles, so mind you don't go to bed without your socks on. And-"
"Anne!" said Pat, cutting her sister off in mid sentence, and looking almost exasperated, "I'll be fine! I'm just thankful you're agreeing to let me stay here! I don't mind about frimbles or sharing a loo or any of that."
"Oh, of course we're letting you stay here!" said Anne, waving a hand dismissively, "I'll be awfully glad to have some extra help downstairs; it always gets so busy this time of year! And besides, Trisha, how can I turn away my own sister!"
"I hope you're not just doing this because we happen to share the same parents," said Pat, "And speaking of parents...You know dad's not going to be pleased with you."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Anne, "It had to happen sooner or later! You may be the baby-"
"I am not!"
"Oh shut it, you know you are! Anyway, you may be this family's little baby, but you have to grow up eventually. He can't expect you to hang around the manor forever..."
"But you know dad..." sighed Pat, "Out and alone...Without a man...Vulnerable to the lure of undesirables: scoundrels, good-for-nothings...God forbid I should be swept away by a muggle," she finished with a dramatic and sarcastic tone that she hoped would mask her anxiety.
"Don't be ridiculous. Now stop being such a brick and go unpack yourself! If you need extra blankets they're in the cupboard beside the staircase; the blue one mind! Don't try opening the white ones, they, er, don't take well to strangers!"
Anne gave Pat a beaming smile, and retreated back to the storefront as the bell on the counter gave a resounding 'ping!'. Pat, almost relieved, picked up her lumpy carpet-bag and started up the stairs. Halfway up the winding steps, she bumped into Jim, who was hastily wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Heavy, that was!" he said, smiling good-naturedly, "Decided to pack half of Hogwarts, did you?"
"Hi Jim," said Pat, grinning, "It's just a few things I need. You need to get in shape if you think that's heavy."
"Ha! Who d'you think's been hefting all the stock around for the past two months! Anne's obviously in no condition to be straining herself, what with the baby coming." He smiled proudly, then continued on, clapping a hand on Pat's shoulder, "You know we'd let you stay no matter what, but you couldn't've picked a better time. I, well, we really need all the help we can get around here, even just to keep up. Thank you for agreeing to give us a hand, Patricia."
"Believe me," said Pat, laughing dryly, "You're doing me the favor here. Sorry Jim, I've got to go unpack - besides, I think I hear Annie calling you!"
She gave Jim a teasing grin as he rolled his eyes and headed downstairs. Pat ascended the topmost steps and pushed open the door immediately to her left. A cramped, fairly plain room with white-washed walls and an ancient-looking wrought iron bed, complete with a battered, paisley, patchwork quilt, met her gaze. Her trunk had been laid neatly at the end of the bed, and a fresh set of powder-blue towels had been draped over the edge of the tiny white sink standing beneath a square-framed looking glass set into the wall. Squeezed into a corner was a squat dresser whose white paint was peeling slightly, and whose top housed a varied selection of family photographs, both Hide and Lacey.
Pat tossed her bag onto the bedspread and walked over to the tiny window in the opposite wall. She drew back the curtains and leaned out through the frame: beneath her lay Diagon Alley, in all its bustling glory.
Pat leaned lazily against the window frame, watching the masses of witches and wizards walk to and fro doing their shopping. Across the street at Quality Quidditch Supplies, a group of little boys had their noses pressed against the display glass, ogling the latest line of monogrammed Tutshill Tornadoes robes; a withered-looking wizard, with an exceptionally mouldy-looking tophat, had set up a small booth housing a selection of what looked like photograph postcards; a tall young man with long black hair and a green utility apron was picking up a stray potato which had fallen from a display in front of the cramped little supermarket next to Florean Fortesque's.
After watching a old couple bicker over gossip concerning Mr. Ollivander whilst they made their way up the street to Gringotts, Pat walked over to her bed and began to unpack her trunk. She had just finished stuffing her last pair of pajamas into the corner dresser - which proved difficult, as the dresser didn't seem to like these strange, new clothes much, and kept spitting them back out - when she heard Jim's voice.
"Pat, would you mind coming down a minute?"
Pat gave the dresser drawer a hearty shove and made her way briskly downstairs to the storefront. Jim was sitting on a large wooden crate, looking very anxious; this was hardly surprising, as loud gnashing and clunking sounds were emitting from the crate, which was shaking violently.
"Oh good! I'm sorry, I know you must be busy unpacking, but I'm having a bit of a time here!"
"Oh don't worry," said Pat, jumping slightly as there was an exceptionally loud snap from the crate, "I wasn't doing anything important. Er, what do you need me to do?"
"Well, we've finally got our shipment of Stress-Free Shears - scissors that cut patterns and such by themselves, you know," said Jim, not looking remotely stress-free himself, "But someone at the warehouse must have set them to shred before shipping them or something. They're going mad in there! I expect there's going to be a fair amount of product damage..." He glanced rather helplessly at the rattling mass beneath him. "Anyway, d'you think you could give it a good stun? The whole lot of them, I mean. I can't quite reach my wand myself, and the bloke who dropped them off was quite keen to clear off and away from them before I could ask a hand..."
"Of course!" said Pat quickly, drawing out her wand and aiming it squarely at the crate, careful not to point at Jim, "Stupefy!"
The violent shaking and clashing ceased almost immediately, and Jim heaved a great sigh of relief.
"I'm so sorry to have called you down, but Annie was busy with a customer, and I don't expect it would look too good for us if we can't even control our own merchandise."
"Not a problem!" said Pat, grinning, and scanning the store for Anne, "Anything to help!" She finally spied Anne advising a customer on the different varieties of bandages: the same man who had been stocking displays outside the supermarket.
"...so you can understand why we need you!"
"Sorry?" said Pat, blinking and looking back to Jim, "What were you saying?"
"Oh, don't worry about it," said Jim kindly, "Look, you must be tired - you only just got off school, after all! Go have a rest, do whatever you want. Annie and I won't bother you until your shifts start tomorrow."
He smiled and went over to help an elderly lady who was trying to reach a box of Krup Biscuits on the topmost shelf without much success. Pat looked around hurriedly to the bandage section, but Anne was now straightening the rows of Mertlap essence vials, and the dark-haired man was nowhere to be seen.