"Have a good day!" She waved at the existing customer, the bell chiming as the door opened. Exhaustion washed over her from the store's fast pace. Her face ached from putting on her customer service smile and her shoes pinched the back of her feet. How Fred and George did it day after day she didn't know, but she did know her face couldn't take another minute of smiling.
"I think that's about it for the rush. It'll calm down to a trickle and our part-timer will handle the evening shift. You can leave whenever you want," Fred said as he appeared with a box of fresh stock. Some of the product shelves had been ravaged thanks to their popularity. Almost as an afterthought he added, "Thanks for the help."
With one of their employees on vacation for the week and George off meeting with suppliers to work on an expansion plan, Fred had been left alone with the shop. She'd volunteered to help George and get her mind off her own work woes. Hearing about George's work had been one thing, but experiencing it another. More people than she had expected stopped in during their lunch breaks, creating an endless stream of visitors for over an hour. The store had been noisy chaos compared to the quiet settling over it.
"Is it always that busy during lunch?"
"Fridays and weekends are the busiest. Mondays slow to a trickle in comparison."
"I'll remember next time I volunteer to make it a Monday." In truth she'd enjoyed helping, even if it left her feet and mouth sore. Her own work had started slowing to a drought and between that and updating her resume, it left her with too much time on her hands to worry. Soon she'd be left with no choice but to job hunt again to pay the bills. "I was hoping I'd catch George to hear how the meeting went. He's due to be back soon, right?"
Fred shrugged as he set the box down on the counter and opened it up. "It could be an hour yet. Sometimes the meetings hit unexpected snags."
Another hour alone with Fred without customers keeping them busy…anything could go wrong. "Should I at least stay to give you a lunch break?"
Fred shrugged again, not looking up as he moved to a nearby shelf to restock. "I should be able to get a late lunch in between customers. If you want to stay you can, but it's not needed. I can take it from here."
He went about his work as if she wasn't there. The awkwardness was too much. She gathered up her things and took another swig from her water bottle. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten yet either except for a late morning snack before coming. The Leaky Cauldron sounded good. A big lunch to make up for the lack of a proper breakfast.
When she looked up she caught Fred watching her, his hands paused in his work. His forehead wrinkled.
"What? Is there something on my face?" She rubbed at her mouth, her face heating in embarrassment at the thought of customers seeing something in her teeth. It'd be just like him to wait for all the customers to see before letting her know.
"Would you ever want to move in with George?" he asked, his gaze boring into her. His hands rested on a flap of the box, worrying it back and forth.
A strange question, she thought. "Um, I suppose so in time, but we haven't been together long enough for that just yet."
His shoulders relaxed. "Not any time soon then?"
"My lease still has a few more months on it. Maybe when it's close to being up I'd want to have that discussion with George." She could renew for another six months if her landlord allowed it. Or a year. "Why are you asking? Has George said something?" Hope bloomed in her chest. The thought of moving in with George made the future feel brighter.
He stared down into the box. "Just wondering how much time I have left."
Her suspicion melted away into confusion. "What?"
"I've never lived alone before." He grabbed little bottles full of a purple bubbling liquid and lined up a neat row of them. "I know it's only a matter of time before George wants to settle down." He ran a hand through his hair. "I need to get used to the idea of living alone."
"Oh." She shoved shifted her weight. "It's not so bad. No one else to complain about anything. And you can walk around in your underwear all you like."
He raised a brow at her and her face burned again. "Not that I do that. Forget I said anything."
"I'll be careful about showing up unannounced." His devilish smirk creeped onto his face.
She headed for the door, eager to escape. If she stayed any longer embarrassment would kill her. She could never seem to get things right with Fred. He made her too nervous. Got under her skin. Things were never as easy as they were with George. "I'm going to go get lunch. Let George know I want to know how things went, please." The words came out fast. She took his silence as confirmation and rushed out the door.
Clouds covered the sun and threatened rain. She couldn't remember if she'd brought her umbrella. It had to be in her bag somewhere, but she forgot it too often. It hadn't rained back home nearly as often and rarely had she kept an umbrella on hand. She peered down the road, hoping she might spot George in the crowd. He'd already set up a meeting with the beauty store for him and Fred to pitch their products. If something went wrong with a supplier and delayed their ability to expand, he'd be crushed.
The crowd in the street had thinned as everyone returned back to work. A few mothers with strollers roamed Diagon Alley in groups, like roving packs ready to run over anyone too distracted to see them coming. Water glinted on the sidewalk, leftover from an earlier rain shower. Her foot slid into a puddle much deeper than she'd expected and a curse escaped her. Water soaked through into her soak. She yanked her foot out. Water dripped from the bottom of her shoe and her toes squished against the wet fabric inside.
A figure ran past her, their shoulders brushing. She swayed and lowered her foot to regain her balance, her toes hitting the edge of the puddle again. She groaned. With the sun hiding behind clouds, a child was already creeping into her foot. Her shoe squished with every movement.
A scream splintered the air. The group of mothers took off running as fast as the strollers let them. They disappeared into a store, the door closing and windows darkening behind them. Another scream, this one shrill and long. Her heart skipped a beat. People ran in all directions in one big chaotic panic. She stepped forward then hesitated as yet another person ran past her.
She backed up a step and searched for a clear path. A mother ran out from a narrow alley beside her. She held her young son's hand, half dragging him along as his short legs struggled to keep up. A flash of blinding light and the woman stumbled, her wand skittering across the road. Her son fell, letting out a wail when his knee smacked against the road. A dark figure emerged behind them. Lucy's breath left her in a whoosh when she saw the dark robe and death eater's mask. Her grip tightened on her wand as her recent duel lessons ricocheted about her mind.
The Death Eater raised his wand toward the boy. She didn't need time to think. The instincts honed by her dueling practice took over. "Stupefy." The Death Eater froze, his wand tumbling from his frozen hand. His body followed soon after. The mother grabbed her son, picking him up as he continued sniffling. Then she grabbed her wand and ran. Lucy stared at the frozen Death Eater, shock flowing through her and keeping her arm raised. Another screamed echoed through Diagon Alley. She should run, she thought, but to where? The way the screams echoed all around her, making it impossible to pinpoint their direction. Terror surrounded her on all sides. Death Eaters could be anywhere. The store. Fred would know what to do with all his dueling experience.
Scarlet light streaked toward her. "Protego." The shield blocked the expelliarmus spell. A second Death Eater moved toward her from across the street. Her heart leapt into her throat. She backed away, her grip tightening on her wand. The figure continued toward her, matching every step she took. "Stupefy." This time she couldn't hear herself over her pulse roaring in her ears.
The Death Eater blocked her spell with ease and sent a new one rocketing toward her. This time the Protego charm wasn't strong enough to protect her. Blinding hot pain ripped through her as the Crucio curse took hold. Her eyes watered and black dots danced in front of her eyes. It felt as if her body would burn to pieces from the inside out. She wailed until her throat burned and her voice went hoarse.
The pain cut off and she gasped a breath of fresh air. She tried to raise her wand, but the spasming muscles kept her arm from cooperating.
"Stupefy!" another voice cried.
The Death Eater toppled over and her own legs gave out. Strong arms caught her. "Lucy, can you hear me?" The relief surging through her made her want to weep. She turned to face George, only for a fresh wave of panic to wash over her.
"My eyes." Her voice came out hoarse. She grabbed his shoulders, the pain of the bright sun causing her to squint at his blurry image. A few dots still danced in her vision.
"Can you see?"
"A little." Her whole body trembled. Her lungs ached. Pins and needles continued to prick at her insides.
He wrapped a hand around hers. "Hold onto me. I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" He kept his voice low.
She nodded and gave his hand a tight squeeze that sent a spasm through her arm. Her muscles felt weak as he helped lift her back to her feet.
"Follow me. If I squeeze your hand it means stop, okay?"
"Yes."
"Good. We need to stay quiet." He spoke close enough she could feel his breath on her face. "I'd rather spot a Death Eater before it spots me. I don't want to take an obvious exit out of here in case more are waiting for us. We are going to head for a shop connected to the floo system and I'll get you to St. Mungo's. This way." The confidence in his voice bolstered her.
They moved in slow steps down the alleyway. The bleariness of her vision made it hard to tell where they were heading. She didn't know Diagon Alley well enough yet, and the fading pain kept her mind preoccupied. George's presence chased away enough fear to keep her calm, but every little noise sent a jolt through her heart. He squeezed her hand and she froze.
"I need to scout out ahead to make sure the street is safe to cross." Something shifted and she turned toward the noise, watching the brown blobs. "Hide behind these crates and stay quiet. No one will be able to see you."
She crawled behind the crates, keeping her side pressed against the wall.
He crouched down. "I'll be back soon. Don't come out unless you hear me whisper your name."
"Be careful." Her hoarse voice cracked. She yearned for a glass of water to soothe her throat. "You'd better come back."
"I will." Emotion thickened his voice.
"You promise?"
"I promise. Now duck your head and stay quiet." He shifted the crates around to hide her. She leaned her head against her bent knees, straining to listen as his quiet footsteps faded away. Silence descended on Diagon Alley. The eeriness of it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Above her a bird cawed as it flew from the roof.
Footsteps shuffled down the alleyway. She pressed her hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing. The steps couldn't be George's; he didn't drag his feet so much when he walked. The figure ambled on past, its loud breathing harsh and scratchy. She opened her eyes and caught sight of a black robe through a crack between crates. The Death Eater walked with an awkward gait, one foot dragging along the ground.
A few steps past the crates, the figure paused. She pressed her hand harder against her mouth. The figure turned around. A ray of sun peeked into the alley, reflecting off the flame pattern on the figure's bronze mask. The eyes were black holes, the deep darkness of them making the Death Eater feel inhuman, a monster. These followers had proven to be more resilient than their lord. They continued to spread terror while Voldemort rotted away in Azkaban. His capture did nothing but make Britain let out a breath and put its guard down, making them more susceptible to this plague of Death Eaters.
Her hand sweated around her wand. The tight space left her little room to move her arm and wand around. If another crucio curse came her way, she was nothing more than a sitting duck. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. The Death Eater's robes swished at his feet. His head cocked to the side.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
She pressed herself against the wall, wishing she could disappear through it. The white spell blinded her. Stars erupted in front of her eyes and she turned her head away. Several heartbeats passed. She opened one eye to peer through the crack. The Death Eater stood frozen, his wand at the ready. A whoosh of breath left her as the tension drained from her body.
"Lucy," George hissed. He moved a crate aside and offered her a hand. After helping her up he plucked the wand from the statue. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. You?" She tightened her grip on his hand. In the dimness of the alley she couldn't tell if he bore any wounds.
"I'm fine." His voice came out steady, reassuring. He led her toward the end of the alley and past the toppled Death Eater in quick strides. "We need to cross the street. When I say three, run as fast as you can, okay?"
"Yes." She swallowed the lump in her throat, worried her jelly legs would betray her. Her head felt lighter by the minute. Whatever the crucio curse did to her, it couldn't have been good. She pictured her insides bleeding with each step. Her increasing sight gave her no relief. The distance to the other side of the street had never looked so far. She wished couldn't see the stretch of empty expanse. Or all the places a Death Eater could be hiding.
"One…"
She reached for his hand and readied herself. In her mind she imagined them running across the street only to have Death Eaters appear on both sides. They'd be fish in a barrel for the taking then. She adjusted her grip on her wand. If they needed to fight, she wouldn't make it easy on the Death Eaters. She'd do everything she could to protect herself and George, bad vision be damned.
"Two…"
The other recent attacks had been made by small groups, but this was Diagon Alley. They'd be mad to come without larger numbers. A loud bang somewhere behind them made her muscles tense. There had to be more of them out there and there was no telling how many.
"Three."
She forced her legs to run, to cross the gap in front of her. Her legs and lungs burned at the effort, but she still couldn't get her legs to pump faster. George kept a steady pace beside her. What felt like too many steps later they shot through the shop door, George throwing it shut behind them. She squinted through the dim light of the shop. Dust motes swirled in the thin streams of sunlight. Dark shelves full of cauldrons and glass jars filled with a myriad of ingredients cluttered the floor. He pulled her toward the end of a set of shelves where they were hidden from the rest of the shop. They stood in silence with nothing but the sound of their haggard breathing filling the shop. His breath ghosted across the top of her head. She bunched up his shirt in her free hand.
After a minute that felt closer to an hour, she broke the silence. "Should we use lumos?"
"No. I don't want anyone seeing light inside and finding out we're here. I used to do my school shopping here. I know my way around." He pointed toward the back of the shop. "We need to get to the fireplace. You can go by floo to St. Mungo's. I need to go to the Ministry to warn them in case no one else has."
She stepped forward and a wave of dizziness descended on her. She teetered backward a step before catching herself. He slid an arm under her right shoulder.
"Sorry to rush you, but we need to get out of here." Sympathy filled his voice. He helped her across the shop. The dim lighting soothed her eyes as the world came into crisper focus. A jar of what looked like preserved chicken's feet sat on the shelf next to her head. Gross. The jar brought back memories of potions class and of the boys who threw the grosser ingredients at the girls. The teacher had never been amused.
"Here we are." He helped her up to the cold fireplace and handed her floo powder. "Go straight to St. Mungo's."
She bobbed her head, her throat dry and swollen. She could almost make out the finer features of him now, but with his back to the minimal light coming in from the windows, the front of him was dark. It didn't matter. She'd finally noticed the cut of his hair. A painful wheeze left her.
Fred. Not George. Not once had she thought Fred would be the one to save her. She'd been quick to put all her faith into George instead. A large part of her wanted him to be her shining knight if she couldn't save herself. Shame filled her.
"Why?" the word came out a croak. "Why come for me?" Movement off to his left stole her attention as a black mass appeared from a hidden doorway. A bone-white hand lifted a wand. "Expelliarmus!" she called. The wand flew from the Death Eater's hand, but it didn't go far. The wand bounced off the top of the nearest shelf. The Death Eater crashed into the shelf in his pursuit, toppling it. Glass jars smashed against the ground, sending broken glass and ingredients skittering in every direction.
"Go!" Fred pushed her into the fireplace.
"St. Mungos." One of the shop's windows exploded and she screamed Fred's name. Then the floo network whisked her away, taking her warning with her.