The next morning, I woke up to find an empty spot in the bed again where Fred should have been. I rolled over and sat up, noticing that I had originally fallen back to sleep with no blankets covering me, but they had now pooled in my lap when I'd sat up, meaning Fred had covered me up at some point in the night.
Fred, on the other hand, was sitting at the desk, his back to me, fully dressed and furiously scribbling away in some sort of journal.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Nothing," he muttered. "Just got an idea for a new product."
"Can't it wait? We're going home today." I frowned slightly. "Did you ever go back to sleep last night?" When Fred ignored me, continuing to work on whatever it was it was doing, I frowned even more. "Fred, answer me."
He snapped the journal closed and tucked the quill he was using away into his bag. He stood up and turned towards me, the journal now tucked under his arm. His eyes were slightly puffy and there were dark circles underneath them, which gave me my answer without him having to say a word.
"We have to check out by eleven," he said, acting as if I hadn't even spoken to him. "It's only half past nine now, but I thought I'd go down to the lobby and get us checked out. You can get dressed and get ready to go and then we'll go get breakfast and head back to London. Sound good?"
"I-yeah, I suppose so," I said slowly. "Fred-you didn't stay up all night trying to figure out a way to stop my nightmares, did you?" I asked.
Fred responded by coming over to the bed and leaning down to kiss my forehead. "It's just a new product," he said quietly. "Don't worry about it."
He left the room, still carrying that journal with him, so I couldn't even snoop to make sure he wasn't doing what I suspected he was doing. Which was probably why he'd brought it with him.
I let a puff of air out of my mouth and got out of bed. I got ready and packed up the rest of my things that were laying around. By the time I was just finishing up, Fred was back.
"Everything went okay?" I asked, meeting his eyes.
He nodded. "What about you? Are you finished?"
"Yeah, I'm ready," I said, buttoning up my coat. I let out a sigh and looked around the room as I pulled on my hat next. "I'm sad to go."
Fred smiled and grabbed my scarf, playfully throwing it around my neck. "We'll be back," he said. "After we go to Paris and that tropical island that I promised."
"Works for me," I said, gazing around the room one last time.
"Ready?" Fred asked, holding his hand out to me.
I nodded and slipped my hand into his as we grabbed our bags and left the room. "Where are we going for breakfast?"
"I don't know, but I think I should pick the restaurant this time," Fred teased, lightly shoving me sideways.
"You had fun at dinner last night!" I said, trying to shove him back. "You told me so."
"Yeah, yeah, don't let it go to your head," Fred laughed.
"I'll try," I responded with a laugh.
We arrived back in London close to seven at night, London time. We'd hung around New York for a few more hours after breakfast and then finally taken another Portkey back home. Fred brought me back to the Leaky Cauldron and when we stopped in front of the door, I invited him in for dinner.
"It's Sunday," I said. "Martha said she was going to leave Kyle in charge of the pub this afternoon since they're not as busy. She was going to make dinner. Meatloaf, I think. Potatoes. Green beans." I smiled and peered up into Fred's face. "If you're interested."
"Will it be okay with Tom and Martha?" Fred asked.
I nodded. "They've always made sure everyone knows they're welcome for dinner. They own a pub. They can't stand to see anyone hungry."
Fred let out a breath of laughter. "Okay, I'll stay."
We went inside and climbed the back staircase to the familiar flat on the top floor. I pushed open the door and called out to Tom and Martha. Martha rushed out of the kitchen right away and pulled me into a hug before turning to hug Fred.
"How was your trip?" she asked. "How was New York? Oh, I bet it was beautiful. Come into the kitchen. Dinner's just about ready. I want to hear all about it. Every detail!"
Fred and I looked at each other as Martha disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Well, maybe not every detail," Fred said, keeping his voice low.
I let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, there are a few things we may want to leave out."
"We can pitch them the idea to turn the Leaky Cauldron into the Stardust Cauldron," Fred pointed out as we dropped our bags by the couch and followed Martha into the kitchen.
"You said yourself that Tom would never go for it," I whispered.
"Exactly, which means it's safe to pretend we're serious about it to see their reactions," Fred explained. "There's no risk of them actually liking the idea."
"Good point."
Dinner was delicious. Despite really enjoying the food in New York, Martha's cooking was something else. Fred and I both told her so and she blushed.
"Oh, it's nothing," she said, fiddling with her napkin. She looked up and beamed at me. "I knew you'd be coming back today so I wanted to make sure that we could all eat together. I also made a chocolate cream pie for dessert."
I let out a happy sigh. "You know that's my favorite."
"Exactly," Martha said happily.
"You know," Fred said, glancing at me and pushing his now empty plate away from him, "while we were in New York, we got some ideas for the pub. Not as far as cooking goes, because that's perfect as is." He winked at Martha and she beamed. "But as far as atmosphere, there was one thing in particular we wanted to tell you about."
"What's that?" Tom asked skeptically, dropping his napkin onto his empty plate and leaning back in his chair. He narrowed his eyes at Fred. "Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like this?"
"Just hear me out," Fred said. "We put a wooden platform in the middle of the pub and surround it by tables. We hang a disco ball above it, add some colored lights, and then all the waitresses-and waiters-take turns singing. On the wooden platform. Stage, if you will. We'll have a complete setlist-so many songs, no one will ever hear the same one twice. Sophie here is even willing to do it wearing neon sunglasses and a feather boa."
I stifled a laugh at the looks on Tom and Martha's faces. Especially Tom's. He looked as if we'd told him we wanted to blow the place up with dynamite. Fred kicked me under the table, but I could see him holding back a laugh as well.
"You know," Martha said with a laugh and a shake of her head, "I would've continued to think you were serious if you hadn't mentioned Sophie wanting to dance around the pub in sunglasses and a feather boa. Hell will freeze over before she willingly volunteers to do that."
"She's right," I laughed, as Martha winked at me and stood up to clear our plates. "You blew our cover, Fred. You should've said you were willing to do all of that."
"I don't work here," he said. "Maybe I should have volunteered Rachel."
"That I would have believed," Martha said from the sink.
"Tom's still speechless," Fred commented with a devious smile.
We all looked over at Tom, who was still staring at Fred as if he'd sprouted a tail. "A disco ball," he finally deadpanned, shaking his head. "Colored lights. Singing and dancing employees...You mean to tell me there's a real place like this in New York?"
"There is," Fred said. "And Sophie all but dragged me in there. Really twisted my arm."
I stomped on his foot under the table and he winced.
"We were hungry," I said, "and it looked fun. It was fun. Fred even said so."
"Our waiter was a tap dancer," Fred added as Tom's eyes widened.
"Now you're bringing tap dancing into this? No one is ever tap dancing in this pub-especially not while on the job. That is where I draw the line."
"Huh, interesting," Fred remarked, "I thought it would be at the disco ball."
"That's a definite no as well," Tom said.
"What's wrong with a disco ball?" Fred argued. "They're fun. In fact, I may try to convince George to get on board with hanging one up in the shop. I'm sure he'd go for it."
"I'm sure he would," Tom said, standing up and bringing his dish to the sink. He handed it to Martha with a smile before turning and leaning against the counter. "You boys own a joke shop. The color scheme is orange and purple."
"The color scheme here is brown, Tom," Fred said, trying to keep his voice serious and almost sympathetic, as if a brown color scheme was the most unfortunate bit of news. But he was giving himself away every time the corners of his mouth flicked upwards as he attempted not to smile. "A disco ball could spruce it up."
"No disco ball," Tom said firmly, pointing a finger at Fred and smiling slightly. "And that's final."
"But-"
"If I hear the words disco ball come out of your mouth one more time," Tom said teasingly, "I'm going to kick you out without getting any of that dessert Martha mentioned."
"You're no fun," Fred told him, glancing at me and smiling as he sent me a playful wink.
"He used to be fun," Martha assured us, lightly swatting Tom with a dish towel and smiling up at him. "But then he got old and ornery."
"How many times do I have to tell you, Martha?" Tom asked. "We are not old!"
Fred lowered his voice and leaned closer to me. "Old and ornery? If I ever get like that, please hex me."
"Will do," I giggled. "Although, from what I understand, you've already gone through an ornery phase, so maybe you've gotten it out of the way."
Fred laughed. "I hope you're right." He closed the remainder of the space between us and kissed me. "I had a great time this weekend," he murmured. "Despite all the times I may have complained about ice skating, musical theater, and stardust restaurants. And the art museum."
"That's a lot of things," I agreed with a quiet laugh. "Maybe you haven't gotten your ornery phase out of the way, then."
"Know any good hexes?" Fred asked. "You'll have to give me your worst."
"Mm, I'll have to think of a good one," I whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. Fred's hand found it's way to my leg as his fingers lightly squeezed my thigh.
"Hey," Tom interrupted. He smacked Fred upside the head and Fred practically jumped back from me. "Keep your hands and lips to yourself, boy," Tom continued.
"Damn, that actually kind of hurt," Fred muttered, rubbing the back of his head.
"Watch your language at my table while you're at it," Tom said.
"Come on, Tom, I thought you liked me," Fred said. "You've heard me swear before. And you've seen me with a girl before."
"Down in the pub," Tom argued. "Not at my own dinner table. Besides..." he stopped behind my chair and put a hand on my shoulder, "if you're going to be dating Sophie, it's my job to make sure you stay in line."
"It is?" I asked teasingly, craning my neck to peer up at him. "When I first showed up, you didn't even want me to stay. You tried to chase me away the first time you saw me."
"That was before," Tom said. "You're family now. And it's up to me to make sure you stay safe." He looked over at Fred and gave him a stern look. "And that anyone who is going to be with you will be respectful."
"It's okay, Tom," I said, reaching up and putting a hand over the one of his that was resting on my shoulder as I continued to look up at him. "Fred loves me." I smiled. "Just as much as you do."
Tom looked down at me in surprise. "Now I didn't-all I said was-I didn't say-," he spluttered.
I laughed and stood up from my chair, grabbing my own plate to bring to the sink. "Yes, you did," I whispered. I smiled and quickly kissed his cheek. "It's alright, I love you too, you ornery grump."
Martha laughed and Tom shot her a look, but I didn't miss the small smile that appeared on his face afterwards.
When I went back to work after my weekend in New York, I was ambushed in the kitchen by Rachel, Kayla and Allie just as I was tying on my apron.
"How was it?"
"What was it like?"
"Tell us everything!"
They huddled around me and peered at me with wide, expectant eyes. I looked over their shoulders and made eye contact with Kyle, my own expression one of surprise.
Kyle laughed. "Better get to talking, Mouse. The sooner you give them the details, the sooner they'll be able to turn their attention back to their work. Otherwise, they'll be pestering you all day about what I'm sure was a wild weekend."
"Why do you say that?" I asked, smoothing down my apron.
"Because I know how wild you are at heart," Kyle answered, expertly using only the pan he was holding to toss up the omelet cooking inside, flipping it in the air and catching it in the pan again.
"Why are you blushing?" Rachel demanded. "Did you do something wild? What happened? Come on, Soph, let me live vicariously through you."
I smiled and shook my head. "No, it was just-it was a lot of fun. We went ice skating, saw a lot of the city, went out to dinner..."
"That sounds pretty normal," Kayla said, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms. "What are you leaving out that would make you blush when Kyle asked if it was a wild weekend?"
I raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Can I get by?" I asked. "The tables aren't going to clean themselves."
"They quite literally do," Rachel pointed out. "You use magic to do most of it."
"Yes, but I need to be out there doing the magic." I tried to move around them, but all three girls shifted at the same time to block my path. "Merlin," I muttered. "You're scary, you know that?"
They didn't answer, instead continuing to study my face with suspicious looks on their own faces as if they were trying to solve the biggest mystery of the century.
"Oh my gosh." Rachel's mouth finally dropped open as she took in a big gasp and her eyes went wide. "You slept with him, didn't you?"
"What? Rachel!" I gasped, looking around to make sure no one else was in the vicinity to have overheard her. Luckily, it was just Kyle, which was already bad enough.
"Merlin, Rach, really?" He asked. "Was that necessary?"
Rachel ignored him as she continued to gape at me.
"Did you really?" Allie asked me.
"I don't have to tell you-"
"Yes, you do!" Rachel insisted. "Friends share everything!"
"She's blushing even harder than before. She definitely got some action," Kayla commented with a laugh, leaning over the counter to examine the bowl of chopped tomatoes that Kyle was using in the omelets. She grabbed one and popped it into her mouth as Kyle tried to swat her with the spatula.
"You're so impertinent, Kay," he chided, shaking his head.
"Ooh, big words," Kayla teased, dodging away from Kyle and his spatula. She moved to the counter beside me, pushing herself to sit on top of it and then nudged me in the side with her knee. "So. Was it any good?"
I turned to gape at her before looking to Rachel and Allie for help. But they were staring at me curiously as well.
"I-well, that's beside the point."
"It's not," Kayla insisted. "If you must know, Chris was really clumsy the first time we did it. Luckily for him, I found it endearing. But now it's a lot better. A lot. But something tells me that neither of the twins are clumsy at anything they do."
"I didn't ask for that information," I protested as Rachel wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Chris is my cousin, Kayla!"
"Seriously," I went on, as Kayla shrugged at Rachel's comment, "what makes you think that was a fact that we must know?" I asked.
"Just trying to make you more comfortable talking about it," Kayla shrugged. "It's really nothing to be embarrassed over. I mean, how do you think any of us even got here?"
"I don't know about you," Allie said, trying to keep a straight face, "but I was delivered by stork."
"That's interesting," Rachel said thoughtfully, "because I'm certain that I was delivered by ostrich." She smiled. "It's why my legs are so long."
Kayla let out a frustrated sigh and hopped off the counter as Allie and I giggled. Even Kyle was laughing.
"Maybe you were dropped off by squirrels because you're all a bunch of nutters," Kayla said. She grabbed a notepad and a quill before adjusting her apron and heading out into the dining room.
I began reaching for the cloth I used to clean the tables, but Rachel stopped me. "Hang on," she said. "Not so fast." She reached for another notepad and a quill. "You're waitressing today. And every day after this."
"What?" I asked, slowly taking the notepad and quill from her.
"Martha told me to tell you," Rachel beamed. "She insists you're ready."
"I-" I began, but Rachel shook her head.
"You're not the only employee here who cleans tables," she said. "We have other people who do that and Martha said if we need more people, she'd hire someone. No excuses. You've got this." She grinned. "But I doubt you'll be a better waitress than me."
I stared down at the notepad for a moment before looking up at her and smiling. "Oh, you're on."
"Then get out there and get started! You're in charge of tables ten through twenty." Rachel shooed me for the door and I went, pausing to adjust my apron and take a deep breath. And then I stepped out into the dining room, heading for the couple sitting at my first table with their two young children.
"Good morning, my name is Sophie. Can I get you anything to drink this morning?"
The man and woman both smiled at me and began their order. As I wrote it down, I glanced up and saw Rachel, Kayla, Allie and Kyle all watching me from the kitchen doorway. They gave me nods of encouragement and Kyle shot me a thumbs up. When I turned back for the kitchen with the drink orders, they even clapped.
I blushed a bright red, but couldn't stop myself from smiling either. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe I could be good at this. And maybe by Friday, I could even take on Marcus Flint and his caveman friends.
"I need to switch a table with you," Rachel told me a few hours later, during lunch time.
I adjusted my ponytail and turned to look at her. "Which one?" I asked. "And why?" It was the middle of the day and we were fairly busy with everyone stopping in for lunch. It was nowhere near as busy as we could get on Friday and Saturday nights, but I still had been rushing around frantically trying to cover all of my tables.
"I'll take table nineteen and give you number seven."
"Okay," I said. "But why'd you need to switch? You're not trying to pass off some troublesome customer onto me, are you?"
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Depends on your idea of troublesome," she said. "But no, they asked for you specifically and your section is full."
For a crazy moment, I thought maybe it was actually Marcus Flint and his friends coming to bother me again-in the middle of the day, too. I wasn't ready to tackle them just yet, no matter what I'd felt earlier. But Rachel wouldn't have passed them onto me if they'd asked her to. She probably would've said something rude to them.
"Okay, I'll do it," I said.
"Thanks, you're the best," Rachel said
I smiled and flipped to a clean page in my notepad before heading back out to table seven. Halfway across the pub, I paused and smiled as I saw the two redhead boys sitting at the table I was heading for.
"Hi," I said, approaching the end of their table and smiling. "I'm Sophie and I'll be your waitress this afternoon."
"Well, I think it's our lucky day, then," Fred said, smiling up at me charmingly. He rested his chin in his hand. "So, Sophie, I have to ask since you're clearly the most beautiful girl in this pub...are you seeing anyone?"
"Yeah, actually," I played along. "Some redhead who always says what he's thinking, has no filter, and blatantly asks waitresses if they're seeing anyone." I gently swatted his shoulder with my notepad.
Fred smiled and continued to look up at me cheekily. He kept his chin propped in his hand as he reached out with his free hand and hooked it around the back of my thigh, pulling me closer. "I miss you," he said quietly, slowly moving his thumb back and forth over my leg.
"Fred, I am working," I hissed in protest, swatting his hand away as George snorted with laughter.
"When do you take your own lunch break?" Fred asked.
"Not until it quiets down a bit," I said. "Your lunch will be over by then, unfortunately."
"Damnit," Fred sighed. He perked up a bit. "When do you get off? Want to come by for dinner?"
"Our fridge is near empty." George disguised the words into a cough and I saw Fred kick his shin under the table.
"Go to the store, then, Georgie," Fred said through gritted teeth. "Buy some food."
"Why don't you?" George asked. "You're the one who invited your girlfriend to dinner."
"I can bring food over from here," I offered, raising an eyebrow.
"Ooh, can you bring me some of Martha's chocolate cream pie?" George asked. "I heard you and Fred got some last night and it's really not fair."
I laughed. "Sure, George. I think I can manage that."
"Great," George answered cheerfully.
It was obvious that Fred wanted nothing more for me to be able to stay and talk to them, and I wished I could've done that as well, but I couldn't. I had no choice but to take their orders and remove myself from their table to go do my job. And I also had to pay attention to my other tables.
"You look good out there," Fred commented when I brought him and George their food. "Waitressing, I mean. You look really comfortable."
I smiled and nodded. "It's a damn miracle."
"Nah, you always had it in you," Fred assured me, reaching out to squeeze my arm. "There was a lightbulb under that lampshade personality all along."
"Why thank you. That means a lot coming from an entire city's worth of light," I chewed on my lip as I tried not to laugh.
"Yeah, yeah," Fred snorted dismissively. "Your sun, your moon, and your stars."
"The whole damn universe," I laughed.
"Your whole damn universe," Fred answered.
"You're not wrong," I answered with a shrug. I leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, the most I could afford to do while I was on the job. And then I gave him another smile before leaving to head back to the kitchen. Halfway there, I looked back over my shoulder to see Fred watching me walk away. He smiled and blew me a quick, discreet kiss, closing his eyes and puckering his lips just slightly. I giggled and did the same before turning back around and going back to the kitchen.
Over the course of the next two weeks, Fred and George were exceptionally busy. Actually, mostly Fred it seemed. He and George were both working longer hours, spending some time after closing their shop in their back workroom on a product. But Fred had an intense determination about him to finish it and get it right. I strongly suspected he was actually trying to work on a cure for my nightmares, but whenever I asked him about it, he said it was a new product and that he'd tell me about it when it was done.
I spent some time keeping him busy while he worked, but since he was working so hard and also being so secretive, it almost felt like I wasn't even there at all. So I began spending almost all of my time with Rachel, Kayla and Allie, instead of splitting my time like I'd always done before.
We'd also found out that not only had Oliver and Angelina gotten engaged on New Years Eve, but so had Hermione and Ron. They'd been at the Three Broomsticks with us, but Ron had taken Hermione for a walk so he could ask her without an audience. According to Ginny, Hermione probably would've stopped speaking to Ron for at least a few hours if he'd proposed in front of an audience.
Ginny was also the one who told me about the engagement. I hadn't heard a word about it from Fred-because he was so damn busy. When I mentioned it to him one of the days I'd been visiting, he'd just smiled and said, "Yeah, it's about time, too," before going back to work.
On the Saturday two weeks after my trip to New York, Rachel, Kayla, Allie and I were all spending the night at Rachel's place. I'd just got done venting about Fred's behavior as we sat surrounded by snacks, all in different areas of the living room. I was lying on my back on the floor, Allie and Rachel were on the floor too, but sitting up and leaning against the couch. Kayla, however, was sitting on the coffee table, her legs crossed under her and everything. She'd barely even reacted and sure as hell hadn't moved when Rachel tried to shoo her off, asking what her fascination was with sitting on tables and countertops.
"You know, to be fair, you probably scared the absolute shit out of him after your nightmare," Kayla said now, through a mouthful of popcorn. "Of course it kicked him into overdrive to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"I just...don't think it's this urgent. I'd like the nightmares to stop, sure, but I've been living with them for a while now. What's a little longer? Besides, I've barely spent any time with Fred since New York. I miss him. I spent the whole weekend with him and now I've hardly seen him at all."
"You know, regardless of what he's been busy doing since you came back," Kayla said, "it's pretty shitty of him to just go ahead and sleep with you and then blow you off. Nightmares or not. Isn't that just typical guy behavior?"
I tilted my head back to look up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Are you speaking from experience?" I asked in amusement. "It sounds like it. You sound extra angry."
"Past experience," she said. "Way past. Before Chris. It doesn't even matter anymore, but it was still shitty."
"Kayla lost her virginity to this Ravenclaw guy at Hogwarts that she went to the Yule Ball with," Allie explained in a whisper. "They were friends before that. Talked every day. I think she even loved him. But after that night, he completely and randomly shunned her."
"I'm sorry, Kayla," I said, looking up at her as she threw a handful of popcorn at Allie. "That's rough. He's an asshole."
"That's nothing new," Kayla shrugged. "I knew that since the day he stopped talking to me."
"Fred's not going to do that, though," Rachel said. "He wouldn't."
"Wow, look who's Fred Weasley's biggest fan now," Kayla snorted. "Six months ago, you would've said you told her so. That he used her for sex to fill a void and now he was ditching her."
"Kayla!" Allie said as Rachel winced. "That's an awful theory! Every bit of it. That Fred would do that and that Rachel would think it. It's not something to accuse someone of saying lightly."
"She's right, though, Al," Rachel sighed. "It's something I would've been afraid of back then. I probably would have assumed that was what he was doing." She looked over at me. "I know it'a a terrible and crass thing to say and it would have upset you. But I will admit that I judged Fred too soon. And I underestimated just how much better he was doing. Now I realize that he would never do that to you." She swallowed. "I was there with you two in Salem. I'm not blind, nor am I stupid. And in the end, I was the one who let you down, not him."
I sat up and turned so that I was facing the girls. With a sigh, I looked down at my hands for a moment before looking back up at them. "He didn't use me to fill a void," I said. "If anything, I was the one with the void." I hesitated as I frowned. "Or maybe it was really more of the opposite. It wasn't that I had a void to fill, I had too much going on and I thought the only way to quiet it all was to keep going and ignore it." I looked back up at the girls and was met with three concerned and slightly confused faces. I took a deep breath. "I was the one who asked him to do it in the end," I said. "There was a lot going on and I thought the only way to get through it was to-"
"Say no more" Kayla interrupted, nodding vigorously. "I understand that. It's always a great distraction when there's a lot going on."
"Kayla," Rachel chided her, sighing in frustration.
"What? It's the truth," Kayla answered.
"That's not quite what I was getting at," I said. I looked around at them again before I began to explain myself. How I'd freaked out the first time things had started to get serious, how Fred and I had fought, and then how I'd come up with the idea I'd had and convinced him to keep going, despite my fears. How he'd been patient and managed to compromise. He hadn't completely kept going, completely ignoring me when I clearly got scared, like I'd sort of asked him to do. Instead, he'd stopped only for a moment. No, not stopping. Pausing, he'd said. He'd waited for me to be ready and when I was, that was when he'd kept going. When I was ready. I had finally felt in control of something for nearly the first time in my life.
"So you mean to tell me," Kayla said slowly once I'd finished, "that you not only had sex for the first time that night, but it was also make up sex?" She looked at Allie and Rachel. "And she doesn't even want to talk about it! If it were me, you wouldn't be able to shut me up."
"Kayla," Allie said with a slight giggle. "I love you, but you don't know when to stop talking."
Kayla turned back to me and smiled deviously. "You don't have to worry about telling me if it was any good anymore," she said. "I know it must've been good."
Rachel and Allie rolled their eyes as I let out a quiet breath of laughter.
"Kayla's right about one thing," Rachel said, reaching out to pry the bowl of popcorn from Kayla's hands as she only tried to hold on tighter.
"What was I right about?" Kayla asked with a whine as Rachel managed to take the popcorn away and reach in for a handful.
Rachel looked at me. "You must've scared Fred half to death when you woke up screaming after your nightmare. He's doing everything in his power to make sure that never happens to you again because it hurt him just as much as it hurt you."
"We don't even know for sure if that's what he's working on," I pointed out. "He keeps saying it's another product. What if it actually is?"
"It's not. He's lying," Kayla blurted out. When we all looked at her, she shrugged. "A white lie. It's not a lie that's really hurting anyone. He just doesn't want you to worry or pester him about it until he figures it out. And I wouldn't put it past him to figure it out, either. The bloke has his faults, but he is determined, that's for sure."
"Besides," Allie said cheerfully, "the fact that he's so busy means you have more time to hang out with us!"
I smiled. "True. Hey, I never got to ask you what happened with Lee! Have you seen him since New Years Eve?"
"She went back to his flat that night," Kayla said. "Do you count that?"
I looked at Allie and raised my eyebrows.
"We just hung out," she said blushing. "Give me a break. But I saw him again last night, too. He's a lot like the twins and he has a lot of personality and he's very talkative. But...I like it. I like him. Which I never thought would happen."
"And you're still blushing," Rachel said.
"I'm going to barf," Kayla grumbled, rifling through the pile of snacks on the table behind her and extracting a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. She dug through it and finally extracted a few yellowy-brown ones. "Vomit," she said, throwing one at Allie. "Vomit," she said, tossing the next one at me. It hit me in the chin and bounced to the floor.
"You can't throw one at me," Rachel said. "I'm the only single one of us left! If anything, I should throw one at you!"
Kayla dug through the box and pulled out another vomit flavored bean. "Vomit," she said, throwing it at Rachel.
"What for?" Rachel whined.
"For complaining about being single," Kayla said.
"I bitch about it, but I secretly enjoy it," Rachel said, pulling her long hair over her shoulder and starting to braid it. "You should know that by now." She finished braiding her hair, then came to sit behind me and began to wordlessly braid mine.
"How did you know I was envying your own braid?" I asked.
"Intuition," Rachel said. "Now hold still."
We were quiet for a few minutes before Allie asked us if we wanted to go shopping the next day so she could get something to wear for her next date with Lee.
"Yes, even though you have plenty of things you could wear on a date," Rachel said. "Seriously, you have so many cute clothes."
"Not cute enough," Allie said, chewing on a licorice wand.
"You're coming too, Soph, right?" Rachel asked, finishing off my braid.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'll come. I need to buy a birthday gift for Martha. Her birthday's next month and I have no idea what to get her."
"Do not buy her a mug," Kayla advised. "As I'm sure you know. She loves mugs, but that ends up being what nearly everyone buys her. You live with the woman, so I know you've seen her two cupboards filled with a mismatch of different mugs."
I nodded and let out a laugh. "I have. My first night here, she made me tea and served it to me in a penguin mug."
Kayla let out a shriek of laughter. "Penny the Penguin!" she cried.
"So you're familiar with it?" I asked.
"I gave it to her," Kayla said.
I smiled. "Well, it was quite a surprise on my first night," I said. "For a moment, I thought I'd ended up in the living room of the two strangest people in England. I was scared shitless, shivering, hungry and a complete mess and Martha served me tea in a penguin shaped mug. It must have looked so ridiculous." I laughed at the memory.
"She loves her mugs," Allie said. "But Kayla's right. Martha may love the mugs, but she doesn't exactly need more. It's too predictable."
"She'll get at least another two for her birthday," Kayla said. She looked at me. "So don't make it three."
"Noted," I said. "Any suggestions on what I should get her?"
"She did mention to me she needs a new apron," Rachel said. "If I hadn't already bought her something, I would have gotten her one myself."
"That's a good idea," Allie said. "I got her the newest cookbook from that famous chef she likes. The one who was hired to cater the wedding of Cornelius Fudge's niece-remember?"
"Barely," Kayla shrugged, her tone full of boredom. "I don't follow stuff like that."
"I know you don't," Allie said. "What did you buy her?"
"Nothing yet," Kayla replied. "I have a whole month. I'm not an overachiever like you and Rachel."
"Maybe you can find something tomorrow," Allie suggested.
"Maybe. Maybe not," Kayla shrugged.
"You're going to wait until the last minute and then panic and buy her another mug," Allie accused her.
"Probably," Kayla responded with a shrug.
"Might I suggest a polar bear to go with the penguin?" Rachel said as she and Allie laughed.
"You're both awful," Kayla said, standing up and grabbing a blanket off of the couch. She wrapped herself in it and flopped onto the cushions as she yawned. "What time tomorrow?"
"Noon?" Rachel asked. "One o'clock, maybe?"
"Okay," Kayla said, turning herself towards the back of the couch and resting her head against one of the throw pillows that were placed upright against the couch's arm. "See you in the morning, then."
"Merlin, she's a grouch," Rachel whispered, stifling a giggle.
"Heard that," Kayla said loudly.
"Good, I wanted you to."
Kayla raised her arm and held up her middle finger, all without turning around. Rachel returned the rude gesture and even stuck out her tongue.
"Saw that," Kayla said.
"You saw nothing."
"The finger and the tongue. Saw them both."
"You couldn't have!"
"I sensed them, then."
Rachel lunged forward and tugged the pillow out from under Kayla's head before hitting her with it. "I bet you didn't sense that coming!" she laughed.
"Oh, you're dead!" Kayla yelled. She jumped up from the couch and began chasing Rachel around the flat, as Allie and I remained sitting on the floor, watching them apprehensively, but also in slight amusement.
Wordlessly, Allie held the package of licorice wands out to me. I took one and so did she and we each tapped them against each other in a silent toast to our sanity as Rachel and Kayla continued to chase each other around us.
After dinner on Monday night, I left the Leaky Cauldron and headed down the alley to pay a visit to the twins. I didn't care if Fred was too busy working. I missed him and wanted to see him.
I arrived at the shop a few minutes before closing. The bell above the door jingled as I entered and I began wandering through the aisles, looking at the products that I had been learning like the back of my own hand ever since I'd arrived in England.
I trailed my finger along one of the shelves as I passed the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and the Skiving Snackboxes. As I came upon the Ton-Tongue Toffees, I stopped as I noticed a group of people at the shelf next to me who were standing in my way. My stomach dropped as I recognized one as Marcus Flint. Another boy was with him that I recognized from the Leaky Cauldron, but couldn't remember his name. There was also a girl with them that I didn't know. They were looking at the Decoy Detonators. They were sold in boxes and Flint had one in his hand as he read the writing on the box. The girl he was with was peering at the display product that was perched on top of the boxes remaining on the shelf.
"These are complete shit," Flint said, tossing the box back onto the shelf. "They aren't even that creative. They couldn't have even come up with something better?"
"Of course not," the other boy said with a snort. "They aren't very bright, are they? They only got three OWLs each and didn't even take their NEWTs! No wonder their family has no money-they aren't even educated."
"They're far more intelligent than you are," I said, the words coming out before I could stop them.
Flint and his friends all turned around to look at me. It took Flint a few seconds to recognize me, but when he did, a slow, creepy smile spread over his face. "Look who it is," he sneered. "The American!" He walked towards me and slowly circled me while I stood frozen to the spot, clenching my jaw and staring straight ahead, hating his close proximity. "How've you been, blue-eyes?" he asked, his voice low as he spoke into my ear.
I pulled away from him, my discomfort visible on my face and in my body language. Flint and his friends laughed.
"I hear you're actually dating one of these clowns?" Flint asked, leaning against a shelf and casually picking up a trick wand. He examined it and rolled his eyes before dismissively tossing it to the ground. "This shit isn't even funny."
"You're such an ass," I said stonily, turning away. "And not worth anyone's time. Not Fred or George's. And not mine."
"Hey." Flint reached out and grabbed my arm, turning me back around to face him. I stiffened and flinched a bit as I glared up at him.
"What?" I asked.
"Weasley's childish. Whatever one of the two you're with. I can't be bothered to know," he said. His face was within a foot of mine as his eyes traveled up and down from my head to my toes.
I turned my head away from him and found myself actually holding my breath as my heart pounded. I wished he wasn't so close to me. I wished he would let go of my arm.
"What's your point?" I asked.
"My point is that this is his life." Flint reached behind me and knocked another product off of the shelf directly over my left shoulder. It clattered to the floor, but I didn't take my eyes off of Flint to look at it. "Why don't you date a real man?"
I wasn't quite sure where my sudden bravery was coming from, but I found myself letting out a scoff of disgust at Flint's words, and then answering him without even giving it a second thought. "A real man?" I asked. "I hope you don't mean yourself?"
"Ooh, fiery," Flint said. He laughed. "You're not as boring as I remember you." He looked me up and down appreciatively again. "I may have judged you too soon."
"Fred is more of a man than you'll ever be," I said quietly, looking up at Flint as he scowled.
"Fred is the one you're with?" The girl Flint was with practically screeched with laughter. "You really picked the worst of the worst, didn't you? He's so fucked up!"
"He's not," I argued.
"He is," she answered. "His girlfriend dumped him for someone else-someone better. Although, I can't say Oliver Wood's much of an improvement either. I'd always thought he'd love Quidditch more than any girl." She shrugged. "But I guess anyone was better than a Weasley. Anyone was better than Fred."
Fury was boiling through every vein in my body. I'd never wanted to pounce on someone and punch them as hard as I wanted to now. I wanted to grab a fistful of the girl's dark hair and yank. And I didn't even know who she was. All I did know was that I couldn't stand here and let them talk about Fred and George the way they had been.
"His brother died saving his life," the girl went on. "A waste if you ask me. What about him is worth saving? He's defective." She reached out and swatted the Decoy Detonator off of the shelf. It clattered to the floor and broke. "And no one wants defective merchandise," she said. She smirked as she gave me a once over of her own. "Except for people who can't do any better."
I whipped out my wand and was seconds away from hexing the smug look right off her face, when I heard a voice behind me.
"What's going on?"
I turned to see George coming towards us, glaring at Flint and his two buffoon friends. Without breaking eye contact with them, he stopped at my side and gently put a hand on my arm, lowering it so my wand was no longer aimed at anyone.
The dark haired girl pointed at me "This girl's harassing us! She almost hexed me! And look-she knocked all this stuff over! She even broke this one." She pointed to the Decoy Detonator.
I scoffed and crossed my arms. What she'd said was a bunch of bullshit and George knew it, too.
"You really expect me to believe that crap, Parkinson?" he asked. "Get the hell out of my shop. All of you. And I'm going to send you a bill for that Decoy Detonator."
The girl scoffed. "I don't owe you a thing."
"I'll double it if you don't get out now," George said, his voice stony as he glared daggers at them. "And if you don't pay up, I'm sure I can reach out to the Ministry about destruction of property. I do know quite a few people who work there." He nodded towards the door. "Get out. We're closed now anyway."
The girl and the dark haired boy both headed for the door, knocking a few more items off the shelves as they went. The boy even grabbed a product from a shelf by the door and held it up before sticking it in his coat pocket. "Add this to the bill while you're at it," he said cheekily.
"Put it back, Montague." George's jaw was clenched as he fought not to say or do anything that could make the situation worse. But I could tell he was angry. Furious, actually.
Montague scoffed and dropped the product to the floor. "This one's probably defective too," he muttered.
Flint snorted with laughter as he began to follow his friends. As he was following after them, Fred appeared behind me and George. "Hey. What's going on?" he asked, his voice low.
Neither George and I answered as we watched Flint walk the rest of the way to the door. When he reached it, he hesitated and turned to look at me with his usual disgusting smile. "By the way, blue-eyes, I hear they're still letting you wait tables at the Leaky Cauldron. Spilled anyone else's food yet?"
"Tripped anyone else yet?" I snapped as Fred tensed behind me. I reached back and grabbed his wrist. "Thrown any more drinks in someone's face?"
Flint smiled wider. "You know, that's exactly how I like to see my women. On their knees."
Fred moved so fast that I let out a cry of surprise and couldn't even bring myself to react. George, however, had much better reflexes. He lunged forward and pushed Fred back with both hands and all of his weight.
"Get the hell out of here, Flint!" Fred yelled. "I don't ever want to see your ass in my shop again! And if I ever see you so much as look in Sophie's direction, I'll-"
"You'll what?" Flint asked, raising an eyebrow. "Get wasted? Drown your sorrows in alcohol? Miss the birth of another niece? Maybe even your sister's wedding." He shrugged "Or even lose another girlfriend?" He tilted his head towards me and laughed. "You're the embarrassment, Weasley, not me. You're pathetic. Like we were just telling Sophie here, you're defective. It's no wonder your last girlfriend was ashamed to be with you." And then he was gone, letting the door shut forcefully behind him.
"Don't worry about him," George muttered to Fred, his hands still on Fred's shoulders from when he'd been pushing him back, but now he'd loosened his grip. He patted Fred's shoulder and let him go. "It's just Flint."
Fred didn't answer. He was still breathing heavily and his jaw was clenched as he brushed past George. He bent down and forcefully began to pick up the discarded items Flint and his friend had knocked off the shelves. When he got to the Decoy Detonator, he scoffed in disgust. Meanwhile, I tilted my head back against the shelf I was leaning against and tried to catch my breath and calm down. I realized then that my hands were shaking. I hadn't even noticed in all the commotion, but there was no mistaking it now in the silence. I almost didn't trust myself to speak yet, either-not that I would even know where to begin. I was angry-mostly about what Flint and his friends had said about Fred. But George was right, too. It was Marcus Flint. Even I knew he was a notorious asshole and I'd been in England only nine months.
Fred began to carry the items he'd picked up towards the back room. George and I looked at each other before George gave me a small smile.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Mhm," I managed to breathe out, squeezing my still trembling hands into fists.
George noticed and came to stand in front of me. "I'll lock up and take care of things out here," he whispered. He put a hand on my shoulder and used the other hand to tilt my chin up. "Come on, chin up. Like I said, it's just Flint and his friends. They get off on getting this kind of reaction from people."
"I've had people say some nasty things to me over the years," I whispered. "But they called Fred defective."
"He's been called worse," George assured me. "By people worse than those prats." He tilted his head towards the back of the shop. "Go on. Go talk to him. He'd enjoy your company. He's been working too hard lately."
"I've noticed," I said.
"He's missed you, though," George added. "So go on, go talk to him."
I gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "Thanks, George."
He patted me on the back twice and I headed for the back workroom. I let myself in quietly and saw Fred at the wooden table, his palms resting against the wood and his magenta work robes off and tossed haphazardly on a chair behind him. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his tie was loosened. He was staring down at a messy array of notes in front of him as a cauldron sitting towards the middle of the table bubbled quietly.
I didn't say a word. Instead, I walked over to the table and leaned backwards against it as I crossed my arms, staring aimlessly at the shelves across from me that were filled with books, journals, quills, vials, and picture frames. There was one frame containing a photo of George and Katie, and on a shelf below that, a photo of me and Fred. It was a recent one from our trip to New York-the one the random woman had taken of us at the ice rink, actually. Where Fred had been kissing my cheek while I laughed.
I pushed off of the table and walked over to the shelf, where I reached out and picked up the frame, smiling as I lightly touched the glass with my fingertips. I looked so happy. Genuinely happy. I hadn't even thought I'd make it to a point where I'd found that happiness again. And then there was Fred. He looked happy too. He was happy. I moved my fingertips over the spot in the photo where he stood and traced them down the photo, from his head to his ice skate-clad feet.
Defective, that girl had said. No one wants defective merchandise. How anyone could say that about Fred was beyond me. He wasn't perfect by any means and he'd been through a lot and maybe even made some bad decisions. But he was by no means defective. Not to me, anyway.
I put the picture back on the shelf and let out a long puff of air as I walked back over to the table where Fred was still working. One hand was still pressed to the table, the veins in his arms showing slightly through his skin. His other hand was rifling through that mess of parchment in front of him.
"I miss you," I whispered as I came to a stop at the side of the table nearest Fred's elbow. "I feel like I haven't seen much of you lately."
Fred didn't answer and I didn't think he'd even heard me. Instead, he scribbled something else down on a piece of parchment and then leaned forward to peer into the bubbling cauldron. "That should be amethyst colored, not lavender," he muttered.
"Fred, did you hear me?" I asked, my voice coming out at a normal volume this time.
Fred finally looked up at me and his expression softened as he sighed. He leaned over and slid a hand to the back of my head as he pressed a long, gentle kiss to my forehead. He kept his lips there for a few seconds more before pulling away and moving his hand to my cheek, lightly stroking my skin with his thumb.
"I know, I miss you too," he said. He let out a quiet chuckle as he lowered his hand from my face and rested it back on the table. "Merlin, I spend one entire weekend with you and it just made me want more." He shook his head and looked up at me. "If I thought I couldn't get you out of my head before..." He trailed off and let out a puff of air.
I let out a breath of laughter. "Really? After the fight we got into? Not to mention my nightmare..."
Fred shrugged. "Yeah, the nightmare was pretty rough, I'll admit. So was the argument. But the rest of the trip was pretty great." He looked up at me and smiled wryly. "And making up after the argument was really great."
I laughed and shoved his shoulder, rolling my eyes as I did so. There was a pause as I stared at him for a moment, a soft smile on my face. "Why don't you take a break?" I asked quietly, glancing down at the mess spread out all over the table.
"Can't," Fred muttered. "George and I have to finish this. We always get this way when we're working on something new. If we stop our momentum, it's hard to get started again."
"Funny, George doesn't seem as urgent about this as you do. He's not even back here at all."
"We do have a shop to run," Fred pointed out. "Both of us can't be back here the entire time. And he is eager to finish this, just as much as I am. Trust me."
"I do," I assured him. I studied him thoughtfully for a moment as he went back to work, silence falling between us for a bit. "Can we talk about what just happened out there?" I finally asked.
"What's there to talk about?" Fred shrugged and kept his eyes downcast as he rummaged around for his quill, which was now buried beneath the pieces of parchment. In the process, he knocked over the ink bottle. "Shit!" He muttered fiercely, grabbing the bottle and moving it off the table before quickly clearing the mess it had made. The ink had only spilled onto the wood of table, and not anything important, and Fred let out a sigh of relief as he shook out his hand, that looked like it had more ink on it than the table.
"Fred..." I began pleadingly, my voice quiet.
"There's nothing to talk about, Sophie," he said firmly, meeting my eyes. "George was right. It was just Marcus Flint and his stupid friends. That behavior was nothing we haven't come to expect from them. He behaves this way, we react, and he does it again. Over and over and over. It doesn't mean that I'd pass up the chance to give him a good punch in the face, though."
"But-"
"Am I furious about what Flint said to you? Absolutely," Fred went on. "Did I want to throttle him with my bare hands in the moment? Most definitely. He's an asshole and he's vulgar. But what do you want me to say? He's not going to change. Nothing we do or say will matter to him. I did mean what I said about not wanting to see him back here, though. I'm done. I can do without business from people like him. And if he says or does anything else to you, I want you to tell me, okay?"
"Didn't you just say his behavior is expected from someone like him?"
"Doesn't mean we have to completely tolerate it," Fred said, wiping off his hands the best he could with a washcloth. "Or even be surprised about it. I'm not angry about what he said about me. That's nothing. It wasn't anything I hadn't heard before. Completely unoriginal. But what he said about you was inappropriate, disgusting, and disrespectful. And that I won't tolerate. At all. I may not have been able to punch him, but he's not setting foot back in this building. And if he says or does anything to you again, I will make sure I punch him."
"Fred, they called you defective," I said, placing my palms on the table now and leaning forward as I peered over at him seriously.
"But Soph," Fred said with a chuckle as he looked up at me wryly, "I am defective."
"Don't joke about this, Fred," I snapped.
"You think that's the worst thing anyone's ever said to me?" Fred asked. "Or even done to me? Because it's not. I went through some stuff. So did you. And we've changed. We can't let every nasty person who decides to use it against us just drag us back into the darkness of our pasts with a few single words. I can't lose my shit all over again because Pansy Parkinson said I was defective! I've fought hard to be where I am now and I'm not going to let them be what-if anything-sends me back into that awful place I was in."
"That's not what I'm expecting of you!" I argued. I shook my head and lowered my voice. "I just don't find what they said to be funny. They said you were fucked up, that you were childish, that you weren't a real man..."
"Big deal," Fred spat. "Again, that's far from the worst thing anyone's ever said to me."
I scoffed. "Well, I still defended you. I told Flint you were more of a man than he could ever be and that I hoped by suggesting I date a real man, he didn't mean himself."
"You told him that?" Fred asked, glancing at me in surprise. His tone held a note of surprise as well, and even a bit of appreciation. He even seemed slightly impressed, which I could understand. A year ago, I would've kept silent.
"Yes! Merlin, Fred, they were making me angry. I was livid! I almost hexed that girl's head off when she called you defective."
"I would've loved to see that," Fred said. "I'm almost disappointed that George stopped you." When I only continued to stare at him, frowning slightly, he sighed and smiled as he walked back over to me and out his hands on my upper arms, peering down into my face. "It's okay," he said, quickly kissing my forehead. "I'm okay."
I nodded. "I am too. So you don't have to worry about what was said about me, either."
"No, like I said, that was inappropriate," Fred said, letting me go and turning back to the table. He glanced at me. "He didn't touch you or anything, did he?"
"Just my arm," I said with a shrug.
"Ah," Fred said thoughtfully. "In that case, we'll have to remove his arm completely."
"Fred," I sighed.
"I'm kidding," he whispered with a laugh. He reached out and lightly nudged my shoulder. "Did he say anything else to you?"
I shrugged. "Just that I was fiery and he had judged me too soon." I shuddered at the memory of Flint's eyes traveling up and down my body and how close he'd been standing. "And the way he was looking at me..." I shuddered again.
"Like you're a piece of meat and he's the starved animal that he is?" Fred guessed.
I nodded. "Basically, yeah."
Fred let out a breath of frustration. "Bastard," he muttered. He swallowed and looked up at me. "Thanks for trying to defend my honor, though. I'm sorry it led to you being treated like that. It's gross."
I smiled. "Thanks for trying to defend my honor."
"Anytime," Fred said. He shuffled some more pieces of parchment around before letting out a heavy breath of air and looking at me. "Have you eaten dinner?"
I nodded. "I have. I was starving after my shift. Working with food all day really can make you hungry."
Fred let out a snort of laughter as his stomach grumbled.
"Did you ever get a chance to restock your groceries?" I asked.
Fred shook his head. "No."
I smiled softly and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I'll handle it," I said. "I'll go to the store and bring some things back, okay? You need to eat."
"You don't have to-"
"You have thirty minutes to wrap up whatever you're doing here," I told him. "I mean it, Fred. Just thirty. Until I come back from the store. And then you're turning in for the night and putting your brain to rest."
"But-"
"That's not a request," I told him, pointing a finger at him as I backed away. "It's an order."
Fred's stomach growled again and he clamped a hand over it. "Fine," he agreed. "Thirty minutes."
Thirty minutes later, I'd returned from the store with groceries, and ten minutes after that, I was in Fred and George's kitchen putting them away while Fred got cleaned up and changed out of his work clothes.
I was just putting the last of the things away when George appeared at the kitchen doorway.
"Thanks for doing this," he said.
I nodded and continued to put the groceries away. When I was done, I started making Fred a turkey sandwich. "Want one?" I asked George.
"Yeah, but I've got it," he said, crossing the room and pulling a plate out of the cupboard above my head. He grabbed himself two slices of bread and went to work making his sandwich as I worked on Fred's beside him.
"George?" I finally asked.
"Mm?" He answered, licking off a bit of mayonnaise that had gotten smeared on the side of his thumb.
"What Fred has been so busy doing lately has to do with my nightmares, doesn't it?" I stopped what I was doing, still holding a serrated kitchen knife in my hand to cut Fred's sandwich. "He's trying to figure out a way to put a stop to them."
George eyed the knife before looking up at me with a raised eyebrow and a teasing smile. "You don't have to threaten me, you know."
"Just tell me the truth," I said, staring him down stonily.
George sighed and gently pulled the knife from my hand so he could cut his own sandwich in half. "Yeah," he said. "You're right. But just try to understand where he's coming from, Soph." He passed the knife back to me and I sliced Fred's sandwich in half before dropping the knife into the sink.
"He doesn't have to be like this," I said. "There's no pressure."
"Maybe not from you," George said. "But he puts pressure on himself." He sighed. "Look, to be honest, you frightened him with that nightmare you had in New York."
"He's known about the nightmares. It's nothing new."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but they've gotten slightly worse, haven't they?" George asked. "You went from Eric chasing you alone to seeing Noah's body to seeing Fred's body, to seeing Eric actually murder Fred. It's safe to say that you were pretty hysterical, yes?"
I shot him a look but then sighed in resolve as my shoulders slumped. "I might have been, yeah."
"And for Fred to just suddenly hear you scream when you'd just been asleep moments before and to not immediately know what was wrong...he just saw you running at him gasping for air. When he told me about the look on your face, his own skin went as pale as a ghost."
"It did?" I asked quietly.
George nodded. "Don't underestimate how much he cares about you," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. He chewed and swallowed before continuing. "He's doing this for your sanity, but also for his own. Because every time you have a nightmare, it's not just ripping you apart. It's ripping him apart. And unlike you, he's not as accustomed to it. Not that you can ever really get accustomed to something like this, but he hasn't been experiencing it like you have. So cut him some slack, okay?"
I considered that before nodding. "Okay."
"That's what I like to hear," George said with a smile.
Fred came into the room just then and he immediately noticed the sandwich sitting on the counter. "Excellent, is that for me?" He asked, grabbing the plate without even waiting for an answer and taking a huge bite from the sandwich. He sighed happily and closed his eyes as he chewed. "Merlin, that's good."
George and I looked at each other and I laughed as George rolled his eyes.
"Oi," George said, whacking Fred upside the head. "You'd think you might want to pay your wonderful girlfriend some mind before you pounced on your food. She's the one who went to the store and she's the one who made the sandwich for you."
Fred leaned down and pressed a thankful kiss to my lips, gently cradling my head in the hand that wasn't holding onto the plate. "Thank you," he said. "I love you." He gave me another quick kiss, and then two more in quick succession before he moved on to peppering my cheek with playful kisses as I laughed and tried to push him off.
"Bloody hell, can't you see I'm eating?" George asked through a mouthful of his sandwich.
"Go eat somewhere else," Fred said with a shrug, pulling away from me and taking another bite of his own sandwich.
"I want to eat here in my kitchen," George said defiantly, plunking down at the kitchen table. "Maybe you should go somewhere else."
"You're a prat," Fred said, shoving George's shoulder as he passed him to sit down in the chair opposite him. He pushed out the third chair at the small table and nodded at me with a smile. "Come on, sit down, don't just stand there."
I sat down next to Fred as he and George finished off their food. Fred leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he finished chewing. His hand was resting on my leg and his thumb brushed back and forth over my jeans. I put my hand over his as the three of us sat in comfortable silence.
"Are you staying the night?" Fred finally asked me, sitting up straight in his chair again and crumpling up his napkin, tossing it onto his empty plate as he did so.
I hesitated for a moment. "I didn't plan on it," I said. "I shouldn't anyway. I'm working early tomorrow morning."
"So? You're a three minute walk away," Fred murmured, leaning towards me and stopping with his lips about an inch away from mine. "My bed gets too cold at night without you next to me."
I laughed. "Fred, when I said I'm working early, I meant it. I have the six thirty shift tomorrow."
"So?" Fred asked, closing the gap between us and kissing me. "Like I said, you don't have far to go."
"I'm out of here," George declared, standing up and depositing his plate into the sink. "Fred gets dish duty for being gross at the dinner table."
"That is the first time in my life that I've heard you sound like Mum!" Fred called after his brother as he pulled away from me. "Don't tell me you're turning into her, George. It'll kill me!"
"Don't count on it!" George yelled back from the hallway.
"Thank Merlin," Fred sighed, turning back to me. "So, what do you say?" He whispered. He leaned in again and pressed a slow kiss to my jaw. "Stay?" He mumbled against my skin as he pulled away just slightly. He pressed another kiss to my skin a little further down my jaw and kept going until he was kissing the spot just under my ear.
"Fred," I whispered. "I didn't bring a change of clothes or anything to sleep in."
"You can wear something of mine to bed," he said, continuing to trail slow, lingering kisses along my jaw and neck. "And you live above the place where you work, do you not? I know how that is. So I know that again, you wouldn't have far to go. It won't take much time to stop back and change."
"But-um-" I breathed, trying and failing to come up with a rebuttal.
Fred smiled against my skin. "You're having a very hard time coming up with excuses," he said. "So just give in."
I pulled my head back and turned it so I could look Fred in the eyes. I rested my palms against either side of his face and sighed as I rubbed my thumbs over his skin, gently scratching my fingertips against the sides of his head, through his hair. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh before opening them and looking at me. "Stay," he whispered.
My eyes wandered over his face, taking him all in before I swiftly leaned forward and kissed him, pressing my lips firmly against his. He responded right away and we sat there for a moment, doing nothing more than kissing. But after a moment, Fred slid his hands under my thighs and stood, lifting me with him and carrying me out of the kitchen and down the hallway.
"What about the dishes?" I asked teasingly.
"Fuck the dishes," Fred panted, nudging the slightly ajar door to his room the rest of the way open with his back. He dropped me onto the bed and crawled over me as I giggled and pulled him in for another kiss.
"I'm so late," I whispered breathlessly to myself as I rushed around my room, getting dressed for work. I pulled on clothes, barely even realizing what I was selecting. I only hoped that nothing was on backwards or inside out. "Tom's going to kill me!"
I'd woken up late that morning to begin with and had flung myself out of Fred's bed with a yelp and a string of curse words as Fred groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. I'd thrown on my clothes from the day before and tried to make sure I was at least mostly presentable to save time on what I had to do back at Tom and Martha's flat. And then I'd rushed back to the bed and leaned over to quickly kiss Fred's forehead and say goodbye. But of course he'd held onto my wrist and kept pulling me in for another kiss. One more, he kept saying, his voice full of sleep and his eyes still closed. Finally, I'd had to pull myself away, telling him that he needed to leave me alone and that I had to go so that Tom wouldn't murder me. But he was going to anyway because I was going on twenty-five minutes late.
Now, I almost toppled over onto my bedroom floor as I pulled on a new pair of jeans, but managed to right myself quickly. The same thing happened with my shoes and I found myself letting out a curse word in frustration. And then I grabbed my wand and rushed down the stairs into the kitchen, quickly braiding my hair as I went.
Kyle was there, busy making up a few plates of scrambled eggs and one plate of sunny side up. He glanced at me over his shoulder and immediately stifled a laugh.
Kayla was also in the kitchen, filling up three glasses of pumpkin juice. On her way past Kyle to grab napkins, she nudged him and smiled.
But worst of all, Tom was there too, standing on the other side of the room, drinking a mug of coffee and doing some finance business in the log he kept for accounting. "You're late," he commented dryly, without looking up from his work.
"I know," I said breathlessly, finishing up braiding my hair and grabbing a clean apron from one of the hooks by the stairs. "I'm sorry. I overslept, and-"
"Overslept where?" Tom asked, finally looking up at me with a raised eyebrow and a stern expression. "Because it sure as hell wasn't in your own bed, considering you never came home last night after going to visit the twins."
"I'm sorry," I said again, flushing red as I finished tying my apron and stared down at the floor. "I should have let you know-I hadn't intended on staying, but I should've let you know once I decided to."
"She probably didn't have the time," Kayla muttered to Kyle, who snorted.
"She was a little preoccupied, I'd say," Kyle muttered back.
I shot them both a glare before averting my gaze back to the ground.
"You know how I feel about punctuality," Tom said. "We agreed that if you were to stay with us and work while you were here, you needed to abide by our rules. One of those rules is being on time to your shift."
"It won't happen again," I promised, looking up to meet Tom's eyes. "I promise."
Tom nodded as he set his coffee down and came to stand in front of me. He put his hands on my shoulders gently. "We worry," he said. "Especially Martha. You know how she is."
"I'm okay," I said. "And like I said, it won't happen again. We just fell asleep-I didn't mean to."
Kayla snorted and when I looked up and met her eyes over Tom's shoulder, she made a face.
"You tell that Weasley boy that I said for him to make sure to keep himself in line," Tom said. "If he's going to be keeping you from your job, I might have to have a word with him about preventing you from your responsibilities."
"Oh, Tom, don't do that," I pleaded, slipping out of his grasp and grabbing my notepad and quill off the counter. "It wasn't his fault. Not completely. Besides, I'll be twenty-two this year. That would be mortifying!"
"Like hell if I care!" Tom said indignantly. "You're still my responsibility."
"That's a father-daughter relationship if I've ever seen one," Kyle muttered.
"Nose out of business that isn't yours, Kyle," Tom growled.
"I'm just saying," Kyle said. "I have a daughter. She's not old enough to date yet, but she acts like she's eleven going on twenty, so I'm familiar with this kind of conversation." He put on a high pitched voice and wrinkled his nose. "Oh, dad, you're mortifying! Leave me alone! You don't understand me!" He pointed his spatula at Tom. "Deny how much you consider Sophie a daughter all you want, but you can't stop it. If you didn't care, you wouldn't have made such a big fuss just now."
"Technically, I am her boss and when an employee shows up nearly thirty minutes late simply because they couldn't wake up in time, I can't just let it slide. Sophie is still an employee and I will treat her as such."
"Then why do you care where she was last night?" Kyle pointed out. "Why did you mention the need to make sure Fred stays in line? Why did you tell Sophie right out that you and Martha were worried? We were all standing right here and we all heard you."
Tom grabbed a dish towel and swatted Kyle in the arm with it as a laugh turned up the corners of his mouth. "Stay out of everyone's business and get back to those eggs before you ruin them."
Kyle held up his hands in surrender before doing as Tom said.
"I'll tell Fred what you said," I assured Tom with a small smile. "I promise. I can't promise he'll listen, but I will tell him."
"He'll listen if he knows what's good for him," Tom said, heading for the door. "All of you get to work," he called over his shoulder. "Kayla, stop hanging around eavesdropping and get those pumpkin juices out to the customers before they end up room temperature."
Kayla saluted him and picked up the tray of drinks. "Little does he know, one of these is for me," she mumbled happily, picking up one of the glasses and taking a long sip as she walked towards the door. She set the glass down on a counter as she passed it before stopping and turning to me with a devious smirk. She looked me up and down and shook her head.
"What?" I asked, looking myself over and checking my appearance. "Did I put my clothes on backwards after all? Are my shoes on the wrong feet?"
"No," she said lightly. "I'm just thinking that you're more like me than I realized. Showing up to work late because you were with a guy?" She grinned and let out a dreamy sigh. "That brings back memories."
"Kayla," I laughed.
"We just fell asleep!" Kayla imitated me with a high pitched, overly innocent voice before letting out a snort. "Honestly." She rolled her eyes and laughed in disbelief before heading out the door with the drinks.
I looked at Kyle in exasperation and he shrugged. "She was infamous for being late one summer in particular," he said. "Not long after she started dating Rachel's cousin. Tom kept threatening to fire her, but he didn't. He likes her more than he lets on and the customers sure like her."
"Tom likes everyone more than he lets on," I pointed out.
"True," Kyle laughed. He finished plating all of the eggs and gestured at them with his spatula. "These are going to table three. Your table this morning. Kayla grabbed their order for you before you showed up."
"She's another one that likes people more than she lets on," I said with a smile, using my wand to levitate the tray in front of me. "That was nice of her to cover for me."
"Didn't have a choice," Kayla said as she passed the kitchen doorway on her way to check on another table. She stuck her head into the room and looked at me. "Next time you decide to have a roll around in the hay, be sure to pace yourself so you can drag your ass out of bed in the morning," she hissed playfully. She pursed her lips. "Although, if you were that tired this morning, it looks like I was right in guessing that it's been some good rolling around in the hay."
"Goodbye, Kayla," I said, shooing her out the door. "Go check on your tables. They're waiting."
Kayla left the room with a laugh and I let out an exasperated sigh before following her to go wait on my own tables.
