DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the content referenced/quoted. Warning for swearing.

...

The Shop

The nights grow darker as summer dies out. A grey cloud is always looming over the country, threatening rain. Em hears from snatches of whispers that last month some unknown Death Eater made a cloud erupt with pints of muggle blood over Diagon Alley. The thought made her sick.

Everywhere else seems dimmer too as the days grow shorter and a cold, biting wind heralds the start of winter. Danders' bookshop, which had always seemed so full of life, is practically deserted these days. The shifts that once filled her with wonder now dragged in, each tick of the clock behind her echoing in the silence. Not even Hogsmeade weekends, when students flooded through the doors in a desperate rush for books to help with essays, upcoming exams and class prep and the Marauders crashed through the front door with tales of exploding fireworks and dying some poor Firsties orange, could lift her spirits.

The shop isn't silent, it never is. Not with the groaning of the coffee machines or the crinkling of old jazz Danders plays on repeat. Still, the noise doesn't make the shifts any less lonely.

Rain thunders outside the crooked shop, and water slides down the street like a bending river. Most folk stayed away today, as the clouds thundered overhead and the skies erupted, which is why Em isn't surprised when nary a soul has wandered in by the end of her shift. She sighs, burying her nose further into her book, trying not to watch the ancient clock hands twitch forward.

Em is restless, now in her Fourth Year of High School, she's struggling to find subjects worthy of her full attention, her mind continually slipping back to the Magical World and the anxious tension that is lingering everywhere she goes.

"Emilia?"

Em turns in time to see Danders shuffling around the corner, appearing from where he had been hiding in the stockroom. He looks old, weary under the naked light that swings gently above his head.

"Danders, is everything ok?"

"Yes, yes, of course," he shuffles over to the small wooden stool in the corner, "Quiet shift then?"

Em leans against the counter, "I suppose so."

Danders runs a hand across the countertop, a sad smile blossoming on his face, "I remember…when this old shop used to be full of life like me."

Em watches him curiously. He has been quite agitated in recent days, the most restless she's ever seen him.

"Are you sure everything is ok?" She asks again.

"Yes, yes, forgive an old man for getting lost in things that used to be," he grins at her. "I wanted to chat to you about much more pressing matters than my old shop anyway."

"How could you, Danders?" Em smiles, swatting playfully at the old man, "There's nothing more pressing than Sheila."

He raises an eyebrow, "Sheila?"

Em shrugs, running a hand along the countertop, "She suited it."

Danders shakes his head, "And that is exactly why I wanted to talk to you."

The man retrieves some folded paper from his pocket and lays it on the counter between them, smoothing out the crumples.

"Emilia, your mother said you're undertaking course planning right now," Danders says. "That you're trying to figure out what it is you want to do with your life."

"Yes," she paused. "Sort of, it's difficult when your sister's a witch and has her whole life planned out to a tee."

"Ah, I remember when my sister was having a similar problem. It's never easy being stuck between two worlds."

Em shakes her head.

"Have you thought much about following your mum's footsteps, and going into publishing?"

"A little," Em admits. "I'm just not sure where to start with that, it's different than back in Mum's day."

"I think English would probably be a good start," Danders smiles kindly at Em, who laughs.

"I agree."

"Then perhaps, some History, maybe a language or two, and a bit of Politics perhaps?"

"Politics?" Em scrunches her nose at the thought. She's not sure what good Politics would do for her in a career in publishing.

"It's a good skill when you work in a bookshop, how to negotiate and understand your rivals."

Em thoughts stutter to a halt, "A what?"

Danders slides the crumpled paper across the countertop to her, "I would like to offer you a proper job."

Em blinks at Danders.

"Now the pay isn't much, and you'd be stuck with a dodgerry old fool all day," Danders says. "But I need people I can trust to look after…Sheila."

"But, your daughter?"

"Has decided to stay in Canada for now, what with…" he trails off, waving a hand in the air. Em supposes it's one of the better ways she's seen someone trying to sum up the increasingly dark magic that's started to sweep over Magical Britain.

"But I don't know the first thing about working in a bookshop!"

Danders lets out a hooting laugh, "My dear! You've been doing the work of five employees for months now! The only reason I didn't say anything was because I was unsure you would want to stay."

Em looks at the mirthful old man, and then at the employee contract laying face up on the counter.

"If I…If I sign this," Em says, "What would my job look like?"

"Well, you'd work after school during the week, the odd weekend - preferably the Hogsmeade ones, my old bones can't keep up with those Hogwarts students anymore," Danders grins. "And in the holidays, I'll train you in the nuances of running a bookshop, like an apprenticeship almost."

Em nods, rolling the words over in her head. Danders reaches out to pet her hand comfortingly.

"And who knows? Maybe one day you'll be running this place, or maybe you'll even own your own place."

Em stares at the contract. Her own bookshop, something that would be completely and utterly hers, the thought is tantalising. Could she do it though? Run her own place?

Then she thinks of the increasing disquiet in the Wizarding World, her friends who are talking more and more of the dangers of Voldemort and his followers, the fight they were running headfirst into, a fight she could not follow them to.

"I'll do it," she says. "On one condition."

"What is it?"

Em pulls out her own scrap of paper, torn slightly at the corners and places it flat on the counter between them.

"You help me fill out my subjects form."

Danders laughs and holds out a hand for her to shake, "It is a deal, Miss Withers."

Em grasps the man's hand and shakes firmly.

"It's a deal."