The day here really never was quiet, Ginny thought to herself, particularly during the summer months when restless students no longer had to confine themselves to the sprawling Hogwarts grounds. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, feeling the sheen of sweat coat the back of her fingers as she did so. George did his level best to lump her with the donkey work, rearranging the deliveries in the small, leaky stock room or filling the shelves upstairs in the bustling shop. She didn't mind so much, demonstrating the latest Weasley Wizard Wheezes products, to the thorough enjoyment of his customers, seemed to give him a bit of purpose these days and anything Ginny could do to help maintain that, she would. Plus, she reasoned, the heavy lifting and winding stairway couldn't hurt for the upcoming quidditch season, even if she were only working here for a few months, the smallest of advantages that she could leverage might help her scrape her way off of what was inevitably going to be a starting position on the reserve bench.
She still felt a burning sense of pride every time she imagined wearing those deep green robes, only in her wildest adolescent fantasies had Ginny ever thought that she would play alongside some of the women that moved with both grace and power in the posters that were still plastered over her bedroom walls at The Burrow. The day that Gwenog Jones had shook her hand, after a particularly brutal match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw where Ginny had received a bludger to the shoulder, almost knocking her clean off of her broom, had been the highlight of her quidditch career at Hogwarts. She had accepted the polite yet blunt woman's invitation to trials in Wales after her final N.E.W.T.s, eventually being selected to join the team in her school position of chaser for their next season. Well, she thought a little begrudgingly, she would be playing chaser if she could prove herself quickly during the upcoming training sessions.
The redhead glanced down at her watch, minute hand a few notches away from declaring it 5pm, the pygmy puffs would be growing restless and the shop's usual bustle of customers would finally be shuffling out of its doors. Dragging herself off of her knees, she shook dust and debris from her black jeans as her worn trainers scratched against the rough flagstones. Ginny started up the narrow, steep stairway, grabbing at a package of food for the rotund, fluffy creatures on her way. Watching the small, humming balls of hair stampede around their cages gave her endless joy, they reminded her of her own pygmy puff, Arnold, although they certainly all had distinct personalities. She wondered if they were much like humans, each their own little person, each looking for their own little person. Perhaps she should get a friend for Arnold, surely he must be lonely curling up at night in his cage by himself.
The sound of someone gently snorting behind her drew Ginny out of her brain's rampaging speculation around her pygmy puff's lack of companionship, she whirled around to find a mass of bushy brown hair and warm chocolate eyes before her. A smile danced around Hermione's features as she surveyed the smaller, disheveled witch, taking in the cascades of fiery, deep orange hair falling from the bun on top of her head "you know, you've been staring at them for at least fifteen minutes, I didn't have a clue they were so enthralling" she joked, arms folded across her chest like a parent who had just caught their child trying to force a sundress on the family cat. "They're cute, look at them!" It came out as a protest, as though her mind hadn't been completely elsewhere "and anyway, you're early" she shot back, pouting as she mimicked Hermione, crossing her own arms atop her shocking orange Weasley Wizard Wheezes overalls. The older witch moved her hands to hold the redhead's shoulders, moving in small and gentle patterns on her back, she hummed "hmm I know, we managed to get the draft papers in for the revised treatment of house-elves early, so here I am" a sideways nod of the head emphasising her words. Ginny's face lit up with a trademark Weasley grin, although Hermione would often remark secretly, much more attractive than any her brothers. "it doesn't close for another…" she checked her watch again "half an hour! Does that mean we can go?" She seemed as though she might pop from sheer excitement and Hermione was certain she could almost feel her vibrating beneath her hands. While she knew the younger girl's passion for quidditch rivalled her own for well-bound, musty tomes and libraries, she had no idea that the mere thought of purchasing new supplies could send her into this sort of frenzy. She found herself smirking back at the excited freckled face, definitely something to be noted.
"Go where now?" George poked his head out from behind a stack of WonderWitch Love Potions lined up on a light wooden shelf "by my reckoning…" he took a deliberate, dramatic look at his own pocket watch, holding it out at arm's length and squinting "you've still got at least quarter of an hour left before I can possibly relinquish you from your duties" he gave his younger sister a very solemn look, as if it pained him to have to break such devastating news to her. Ginny glared at her older brother, her hands already pulling her overalls over her head and balling them up, "George, stop taking the piss, I'm going even if I have to hex you into next week" she lobbed the scrunched fabric at his head before he had a chance to answer, gripped Hermione's forearm with her fingers and turned to leave. "That's another fifteen minutes added on to Monday's shift, Gin!" He hollered after the two girls with mock seriousness as they shot out of the door, the chiming of the bell above the entrance mixed with their yells.