(Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince—Chapter 6: Draco's Detour)
The shop was packed. Verity was sure her arms were bruised under her sleeves from being jostled and elbowed in the crowds. Getting to shelves to restock became an ordeal that risked a trampling. Eventually she took refuge behind the cash register and let problems come to her.
"Excuse me miss, how much for a small box of Wildfire Whizbangs?"
"Five Galleons."
"Which of the Skiving Snackboxes do you recommend?"
"I like the Fever Fudge best myself."
"I'm so sorry, my son spilled a bottle of Color-Change Ink over there."
"I'll take care of it."
By noon, she was sweaty and exhausted. Her feet ached, and she never wanted to explain how a Skiving Snackbox worked again. Finally, Fred wrestled his way to the counter.
"Take a break," he said. "I'll hold down the fort for a while."
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," she sighed, and she left to get lunch from her flat. Her feet were so sore, however, she lost interest and trudged into the boys' flat, which required only one flight of stairs. She collapsed into George's armchair, Summoned her lunch, and fell fast asleep.
When she awoke, she stood gingerly, wondering why she was in the twins' flat in the middle of the afternoon. As her memory returned, she groaned. She'd probably overshot her lunch break by a few hours. She took the stairs two at a time, straightening her skirt at extreme risk of falling.
"Hey, Verity," George said as she ran into him. "Where have you been?"
"I am so sorry," she gasped. "I went for lunch and fell asleep. Bother, how long have I been out?"
"Couple hours. You're fine. Fred says he'll fire you, but that's Fred. While you're here, could you hang these up?" he asked; he had a pile of Shield Cloaks in his arms.
"Of course, Mr. Weasley," she said, determined to make up for her unauthorized nap. She took the cloaks and hurried to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, where she hung them on the rack. As she put the last one on its hanger, she ran her hand over it gently. If she tried to buy one, the boys would refuse her money, but she couldn't admit she still couldn't cast a proper Shield Charm. With a reluctant glance, she let it go and pushed aside the curtain into the main room.
Fred and George stood at the front with half their family, along with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. The visitors gaped at the store, and the twins glowed with pride.
Verity bustled around to make herself useful, but with Fred and George showing off and giving Potter the tour, she was overwhelmed. The crowds hadn't thinned since lunch; if anything, they'd thickened.
"Excuse me, how does the Owl Order service work?" She spent two minutes convincing a middle-aged witch with three boisterous children that yes, the brochure explained everything.
"What's the difference between Cupid's Tears and Twilight Moonbeams?" Verity was capable of explaining this to the wispy young witch, having brewed both herself. She recommended Cupid's Tears for the gentleman in question—and a good strong Calming Draught for the girl.
"Miss, I can't find any joke cauldrons. Are they sold out?" This stumped her for a moment. She'd just seen those shelves full. How many people were in the shop, that an entire shelf of cauldrons sold in fifteen minutes? At any rate, she realized she had to find the boys, as only they could navigate the cluttered storeroom.
"If you'll wait here, I'll get Mr. Weasley. He can help." She squeezed through the shoppers to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room and poked her head around the curtain. The boys were showing Potter their Decoy Detonators. "There's a customer outside looking for a joke cauldron, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley." She peeked at Harry. He hadn't given her a second glance. He didn't even recognize her.
"Right you are, Verity, I'm coming," George said promptly. He and Fred had a short argument with Harry over whether he was allowed to pay for things, then he swept through the curtain, followed by the others. "Incidentally, why didn't you point the bloke to the shelf?" he asked.
"They're sold out," she told him.
"Already?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay. I'll nip downstairs and grab some, and you tell the gentleman I'm on my way."
"Thank you," she said, and headed back to her refuge behind the cash register.
After giving the wizard George's message, the next customer with a question was the last one she wanted to see. Ron. His arms were full of packages he was counting.
"Sorry, how much for—" He looked up and recognized her. "You!" She nodded. "The bloody hell are you doing here?"
"I work here." She braced herself.
"You work—here?" he repeated. She nodded again. "How much is Malfoy paying you? Honestly—when we get an owl from Fred that his girl ran off with Draco Malfoy, or whatever you do when this stops being fun, I'll..." He trailed off, possibly unable to find a strong enough word he could say in public, or perhaps the sheer number of rude things he had to say were all trying to come out at once.
"I'm sorry," she said daringly. "Did you still have a question?"
"Never mind," he grumbled. "I'll ask Fred and George." Verity wondered, if she were to suggest he have a nice day, whether he would throw something at her.
A few minutes later, she found a pile of assorted products on the Daydream Charms shelf. They looked like the things Ron had been holding. Bloody nuisance. She tried to leave them alone, as there was so much else to do, but eventually she couldn't stand it. She snatched the boxes, glancing over them to see where they went. A few belonged in the upper part of the store. Halfway up the stairs, she heard her name.
"Are you talking about Verity?" she heard Fred say. She glanced down.
"Ron said some interesting things to her; that's all I'm saying." Verity tried to finish climbing the stairs.
"Well, he shouldn't have."
"Who is she?"
"My girlfriend," Fred said, and she glowed.
"How long have you had a girlfriend?" Mrs. Weasley said, shocked.
"Since seventh year. We met at the Yule Ball sixth year, but things—" Fred's sentence was cut off by a posse of squealing teenage witches who'd found the Pygmy Puffs. Unfortunately, they didn't drown out Mrs. Weasley's reply.
"You've had a girlfriend for a year and a half and didn't tell your own mother? Do you have an ounce of common sense...We don't know anything about her...the Malfoys, Fred! Oh, Ron was right to be suspicious. Arthur, did you know about this?"
Verity had a sneaking suspicion on that point, and sure enough, when she peered over the banister, she saw Mr. Weasley fidget. She couldn't hear his reply, but she guessed Fred had written his father and they had both "forgotten" to tell Mrs. Weasley.
Verity decided to rescue Fred. She made it downstairs in record time. "Mr. Weasley," she interrupted his defense, "we're out of Instant Darkness Powder."
"We are?" She realized they'd just restocked it. Since her back was to his mother, she risked a wink. "Right-o. I'll get it. If you'll excuse me, Mum." With a sigh of relief only Verity saw, he headed toward the cellar. Looking anywhere but at Mrs. Weasley, Verity returned to the cash register. Only a few more hours until the store closed and she got peace and quiet.