Fred was ignoring her. The past week left no lingering doubts in her mind. He crept about the house as quiet as a mouse and seemed to spend any time not working in the basement or sleeping gone with little say in where he went. And the days she spent at Oli's or the rare nights she stayed at her place, he stayed home. After what happened at Diagon Alley she thought the attack gave them a common bond, but apparently not.
A yawn threatened to escape and she held it down. Usually she preferred to sleep in on Saturdays, but she'd woken early and her body refused to let her fall back asleep. A morning cup of tea sounded perfect while she woke up. And maybe a banana or some yogurt, something to calm her gurgling stomach. One step into the kitchen she spotted Fred at the stove and she backed out to hide behind the wall where she could peek around the corner at him. He gave no indication he'd heard her.
The newspaper was spread out on the counter beside the stove. He circled a block of text and then another before turning back to his omelet to flip it. He didn't wear a shirt, only a pair of low slung PJ bottoms covered in cute broomsticks. With how well he spent his days dressed for the shop, it felt odd to see him in something so mundane. Even on weekends his casual wear tended to look carefully picked and fashionable. She could only see his back, but it was enough to tell his body was more sculpted than George's and with more muscle too, something his suits hid. She bit her bottom lip to stop her train of thought before it could go any further. She wondered if like George, he enjoyed nice clothes because he'd grown up on hand me downs.
After another minute she gave up the watch. It made her feel creepy, like a peeping Tom. And if George caught her she wouldn't know how to explain herself. She didn't think saying she was trying to understand Fred better would sound convincing. She crept through the doorway. "Making breakfast?"
Fred jumped and swiped the newspaper off the counter.
"Well that isn't at all suspicious."
He folded the newspaper up and kept it in his free hand as he picked the spatula back up to plop his omelet onto his plate. "I didn't expect anyone else to be up this early."
"That's because you usually sleep in the latest. Can't you put a shirt on?"
"No. My house. I already put trousers on for you. I didn't know I even still had these." He grabbed his plate and headed for the table. She waited until his back was to her before she stole the newspaper out of his hand. He whirled. "Give that back." He made a lunge for the paper, sending his omelet sliding precariously close to the edge of his plate.
"I just wanted to read today's news," she said in her best faux innocent voice. She opened the paper, searching for whatever he'd marked. She found them, two flat listings circled. He ripped the paper out of her hands. "Don't tell me you want to move because of me." She glared at him, her hands fisting. "I've tried to stay out of your way."
His nostrils flared. He threw the paper down on the table beside his plate and sat down. "What I do is none of your business."
"It's because of me staying here, isn't it? You haven't exactly been sneaky about avoiding me. You even switched the days you go to your dueling club."
"It doesn't matter." He shoved a mouthful of omelet into his mouth, muffling his words.
She slid his plate away. "It does. George would be devastated if you moved out. Not to mention thanks to The Daily Prophet you have a big bull's eye on your back for Death Eaters. You should stay here where you have others to watch your back."
He took back his breakfast.
"At least wait until it's safer and talk with George first."
He waved his fork at her in a "go away" gesture and took another mouthful. When she didn't budge right away he did it again. She sighed and left him to go rummaging in the fridge for some strawberry yogurt. After Fred finished and shoved his plate into the very Muggle dishwasher, he paused behind her. "Tell George to make sure his door is shut the whole way, okay? I could hear you two going at it like animals last night."
Her face heated and she was grateful he didn't hang around to wait for an answer. Him hearing her have sex wasn't something she wanted to think about. She was equally grateful he spent the rest of the morning in the basement tinkering with his latest project so she wouldn't have to look at him and know he'd heard. Maybe it was a sign she returned to her place if she was wearing on Fred's nerves. She'd been here long enough.
"Don't tell me you are working on a Saturday," she said when she brought tea to George in the living room right after lunch. His papers on the beauty product deal were splayed out on the coffee table in front of him.
"I can't help it, I'm excited and I didn't make any plans for the day. You'll be leaving with Oli any minute. I thought I might as well give this one last look over to make sure we haven't forgotten anything in our preparations."
"Sounds like you have a boring day ahead of you."
The skin beside his eyes crinkled in his amusement. "Maybe, but at least I will get something productive done. This shop is my baby and I can't help being the mother that reminds it to look both ways every time it crosses a street."
"Sounds better than the poor cat I had as a kid who I'd put into my old baby clothes. I had the best dressed cat in the neighborhood and she hated it." She'd been devastated when the cat died, but she still had an album of pictures of the cat in various outfits and looking cranky in every one of them.
"I can see you doing that. Once when we were kids, George and I were sent out to de-gnome the garden and Fred took a liking to the idea of keeping one as a pet. That didn't end too well."
"I can't imagine a gnome as a pet." She poured them both a cup of tea and settled in beside him.
Fred bounded up the basement stairs and the door burst open. "George!"
"Yeah?"
Fred turned the corner, his eyes bright. "It's finished. Open it." He set a small box on the coffee table in front of George reverently. Then he backed away to stand near the far wall. Thankfully he'd put a shirt on since breakfast.
Lucy scooted to the far side of the sofa just to be safe. She'd seen some of their messier products and if slime or something else was going to burst from the box, she didn't want to be in the splash zone. George closed up the folder and shoved it beneath the coffee table. Fred bounced on his heels in anticipation.
"Are you sure it's ready?" George asked, drawing out Fred's agony.
"Yes, yes! Open it already."
George smiled, giving away that he knew he was torturing Fred with the wait. He opened the box's lid with agonizing slowness. A second passed and then a golden snitch popped out of the box.
"A snitch?" George watched as the snitch flew up and out of his reach.
Fred clapped in hands together in glee. "You have to catch it."
George stood up and grabbed at the snitch but it dodged him as it zipped away in a hard left. He tried again and the snitched made a hard jerk upward to escape his fingers. He climbed around the coffee table to get closer and the snitch led him on a chase around the living room while Fred chortled. Every time it managed to slip out from between his fingers.
"A little help here?"
She smiled. "I'm enjoying the show too much."
George grinned back at her. "Then I won't share the spoils." He reached for the snitch again, but a fluffy blur threw itself off the back of an armchair and caught the snitch in its mouth.
"Sparky!" They all cried in unison.
"Get that snitch! It's chocolate under the gold wrapper." Fred dove for the cat and managed to grab Sparky's hind legs, but the cat wiggled free and jumped onto the back of the sofa. Lucy lunged for Sparky, but the cat was too fast. It used the sofa as a springboard to jump onto the top of a bookcase and out of reach. Sparky peered down at them, the foil wrapper of the gold snitch glinting in the light. The wings had quit and hung limply from the cat's mouth. The right one was crooked.
Fred dashed from the room and returned with a broom. He poked at the cat. Sparky let out a spitting hiss around the snitch as the broom pushed him to the edge of the bookcase. As Fred tried to push Sparky off, the cat gave up and dove from its perch. George caught the cat and stole the snitch back. He held it up above his head in triumph. Fred picked up Sparky and tossed her outside.
"Now," Fred said as he turned to face them. "Pretend the cat thing never happened. See how the wings stopped? It's enchanted for one catch and that's the fun of it, you have to catch it to eat it." He picked up the box. "This is just a plain box, but I was thinking collectable Quidditch cards inside with some sort of themed decoration on the outside. We could even run special editions for Quidditch World Cups. It will be our own version of the chocolate frogs."
"That's bloody brilliant." George high-fived his brother. "Long-term staying power and special events like the World Cup would boost sales. It's perfect."
"I have some sketches for box art, but you are better at color schemes than me. I thought we could workshop the art together."
George's head bobbed in excitement. "Let me get my colored pencils." With their mind on work, Lucy felt glad she had plans of her own. And if Fred was reaching out to George, she didn't want to get in the way. Maybe it would help clear up whatever issue plagued Fred.
A knock on the door interrupted the excitement. "I'll get it," Lucy offered. "It's probably Oli." When she let him in, Sparky darted around his feet and back inside and the chase to catch the cat began anew. "I'll see you later!" She headed out with Oli as Fred and George chased after Sparky as the cat darted into the kitchen.
"Uh, should we help with the cat? I didn't mean to let it in." Oli cast a look of doubt at the door. She could tell his last game had happened during a sunny day. He'd gotten a light tan, one that would likely drive the team's female fans wild.
"Blame Fred for bringing it inside in the first place. They'll catch it. Let's hit up the tea shop first." That would teach Fred to keep stealing the neighbor's cat. Sparky was getting too comfortable lounging on the back of the sofa in the evenings. And as cute as the cat was, she hadn't forgiven it for stealing her bacon the other day.
They reached the main sidewalk just as a man in a business suit casually strolled toward the house. He offered them a slight nod as he passed by. Lucy paused and glanced back at the man. "Isn't he with the ministry?" she whispered.
Oli glanced back at the man. "Maybe. Might be here about the ruckus with the paper." He continued on down the road. From here they could walk to the tea shop. It was a long walk but it would be a shame to waste a sunny day inside.
"You heard about that?"
"Yeah. It made me afraid they would name other survivors, like you. After the Battle of Hogwarts and the defeat of Voldemort we all thought the fight would be over. Instead his followers are drawing it out, and while Voldemort turned out to not be a good fighter some of the Death Eaters are." An air of melancholy overtook him and he shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunching. "Our seeker's little brother was recruited as an auror last week. Seems the Ministry plans to get more aggressive. I wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to recruit Fred or George if not both of them."
They stopped at an intersection and she fiddled with her purse strap. "Do you think they would accept?" She didn't like the idea of George taking up a job of fighting Death Eaters. The shop was a much safer pursuit and she'd prefer he stay far away from any fighting. After seeing Fred in action at the club, she knew he enjoyed the fight, but George was the type who would only fight when he had no other choice.
"No, at least not permanently. The shop is their dream. They ran their own small mail-order business when we were in school. I can't see them giving up all those years of hard work."
"I hope you're right." They crossed the street and once they reached the other side she looked back, but the house was already hidden by the trees. She turned her attention forward. She spent enough time worrying, but it was the weekend and she was determined to let those worries rest for another day. "Tell me about your away game. How did your team manage to win by only ten points?"
Oli grinned. "Now that's quite the story."
The air was different when she returned four hours later. It was tense, and the serious expression George wore in his spot in the arm chair by the window was all she needed to see to know something was wrong. The man from the ministry hadn't brought good news, whatever he'd brought.
She dropped her purse on the floor. "Please tell me you haven't been recruited."
Fred ambled in from the kitchen, a mug of coffee in hand. He leaned against the doorway, a frown on his lips.
"It's only temporary," George said. "A few weeks at the most. The Ministry recently put in a large order on our defense products and they want to me to help train ministry workers. Fred is going to stay with the shop."
"Why you? Fred is the one who likes to fight. Shouldn't he be the one going to the Ministry?"
George ran a hand through his hair and Fred spoke up. "That's exactly why I'm staying with the shop. The Ministry thinks it could be targeted again and they wanted to prepare. They are training everyone, not just the aurors. George will be safe there, but if something happens again, I might need to defend the shop."
"But what about me helping with the WonderWitch line?"
"You still will," George said. "I might be back in time for the grand rollout."
She let out a sigh. "I should head back to my place then."
"No." George exchanged a look with his brother. "The Ministry is worried the Death Eaters got their hands on a list of survivors, which puts you at risk too. You'll be staying here while I'm gone since the Ministry is having the shop and house monitored not to mention Fred will be around."
Alone with Fred for weeks. Great. "Will you be back in the evenings?"
"No. I'm staying at the Ministry. They don't want the Death Eaters to notice my comings and goings or spies."
"Oh." She wrapped her arms around herself and fought down the anger at George being stolen away. Oli's next several games were all away games. He wouldn't be around much which left her with Fred. But if he continued to ignore her, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. "When do you start?"
"First thing Monday."
"I'm going for a run," Fred mumbled. He disappeared out the door. Her hands clenched at the idea of being trapped with him for the foreseeable future. George stood up and pulled her into a hug. "I got you a present though. Remember that beauty class you wanted to take? I paid for your spot. It'll give you something to focus on while I'm gone. I'll even let you do my makeup when I get back."
She leaned against his chest. He was working for the greater good and to be mad felt selfish. Still, she was proud of him. People needed to take a stand again to bring the rest of the Death Eaters down. "Promise you'll be careful."
"I will. Don't worry about me. Promise me you and Fred won't kill each other while I'm gone."
"I don't make promises I fear I can't keep."
He laughed. "Fair enough."
"Oli has a friend who is looking for a temporary place for two months between leases. If I'm going to be here for another few weeks, I might rent my place out to him." Any help covering rent on a place she wasn't staying in would be an enormous help.
"Whatever you think is best." He led her to the sofa. "Have breakfast with me Monday morning before I leave."
"Of course I will. I'll even make you pancakes."
"That's how I know you love me." He kissed her nose.
"Do you think the training will help?"
"I hope so. If there is anything I can do to help end the fear and violence I'll do it. The quicker the Ministry finds them all the quicker."
"I admire your courage and I wish I could do more."
He traced circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. "You can help by keeping Fred alive. He's not the best cook and left to his own devices winds up eating his meals out."
"I'll make sure he doesn't starve to death."
"Good. Now where would you like to go? No reason to waste the evening."
"Let's go wander and surprise ourselves." As far as she was concerned tonight and Sunday would be spent in denial on what Monday would bring. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so happy despite her work problems and damn if she'd let the Ministry and Death Eaters snatch it away.