I'd like to start off by thanking those who reviewed last time xforgottenxmemoriesx and Lovebuggy. Thank you so much. First reviews eeps! Well alright- I suppose this is what you might call the deciding point 3 chapters(albeit short ones) in. If you want me to continue- you'll have to review the story because I as a person am terribly insecure- I don't even care if theyre flames just please review it ;) anywho ya. That was all. If after this point you like the story the chapters will grow from their usual 1000 words to about maybe… 1500? I don't know. And progressively they'll get even bigger I suppose. Yuppity yup. Toodles. I suppose I ought to start writing. Lol.

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In and out. In and out. Things weave through my subconscious like children through a park. A voice here, a flash of hair there, and bam! Back to Black. Nothing thoroughly riveting of course. I keep moving my mouth, or atleast I think I am. All I can think though is that I hope my throw pillows do not get into another argument while I'm away. And if I'm dead well my entire home shall be chaos. I pride myself as being quite the mediator between the fruit bowls, and my pillows. I ought to put that on my resume if I'm alive.

I just lay here, or am I sitting? And I tell myself that I hope I'm alive. A rather big if. I don't know why I'm here- why these shots of pain keep hitting my arms. Well wait just a moment there, golly whollops, you can't feel pain and be dead can you? I suppose I wouldn't really know of course- considering this is my first time being dead. And hopefully the last might I add. Oh gosh- how I do miss being alive.

You see I've already resigned myself to this unfortunate end. How tragic I must seem laying here, well… or sitting. I wonder if I've resumed a rather graceful accepting look on my face. My black hair probably laying charmingly to the side of my face. I sigh, if only I could see it. Perhaps they will write something fabulous about me in my obituary. I hope I was nice enough to people in my lifetime that plenty of people from all sorts of marvelous places shall come to the funeral.

They'll likely have charming stories of times we spent together, and memories we had collectively. Oh if only I could attend. Well of course I shall if it's open casket- but how terribly ungraceful and crude. I in fact refuse the idea of an open casket. I utterly refuse to be put on display for the world to see dead. Oh my! The thought of what ifs flash through my head. What if I don't look utterly poised, and my hair has fallen in my face. That's it, it's final. I simply refuse to be dead. Now is not the time or the place, I am not prepared to be dead.

And with that last thought I open my eyes, and am greeted with the world. "Why hello world!" I say to myself. "How lovely to see you again."

"Well it's lovely to see you too."

"Lookey Fred- she's alive."

"Why I do hope she stops mumbling about beige walls and throw pillows. I was getting rather worried for her home life."

"Ay. Right you are Fred- I simply couldn't have stood it if those vegetables talked back anymore."

"Wouldn't have been able to stand it either George. I know how you feel."

"Excuse me?" I said quite abruptly rather confused as to why and how they'd pryed into my thoughts.

"Well miss, if you were wondering what we were talking about. I believe you were mumbling when you passed out."

"Passed out right cold didn't she George?"

"Rather a shame too, because I always hate to see a pretty face on the ground." The boy winked at me. Oh how awfully odd this all was. Well I should look rather crazy right now I suppose.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to trouble you." The boy winked at me again. I wonder- am I still knocked out?

"I don't mean to be a bother." I start out,"but, would you by any chance know where we are?"

"Why you're in Diagon Alley, in Weasley Wizard Wheezes."

"That dreadful little prank shop?" I reply with an obvious grimace. I survey the area- it seems just as I feared. A joke shop, complete with flying quills writing very graphic things on the walls. One of the boys I am talking to flips his wand out and stops the quills and such. It appears they are not supposed to be talking about bodily parts.

"I suppose it is."The redhead laughs. They both look so awfully similar- twins? Brothers? Cousins even? Wow, they're just so utterly gorgeous. I feel myself getting into my flirty mood and I scold myself saying, "Self, these two fellows will be back another day hopefully, when you're hair is better." And with this last thought I attempt to stand up but find my knees a tad weak.

One of the pretty redheads offers his hand to me and says, "I'm Fred by the way, and this is my brother George." George winks at me again. Is it possible that he has some sort of eye twitching disease?

((((((home))))))

I stand here and I wait patiently for people to come in. Perhaps they do not know that we're open. In fact- I shall do my best to advertise for the books. That would be rather fabulous. So I walk outside the mahogany door and I stand there smiling with my pretty smile. And do you know what happened? I got asked out. Well, atleast… I think I did. One can hardly be sure anymore.

That pretty boy who helped me earlier came strolling over with a jock walk(and if you my dears have never seen a jock walk then shame on you- I would know- I dated a few) I'm minding my own business smiling cutely at everyone and inviting them in for a cup of tea. And that boy- the one with the eye twitching problem- comes over and stops in front of me and smirks. Yes- smirks- I was rather caught off guard, for it isn't everyday that a cute gentleman comes over and smirks at you, but he wasn't winking and it was sort of off putting. I'd gotten used to it. Oh wait, there it was a wink or a twitch. Nevermind completely unimportant.

"Hey there again- are you alright?"

"Oh, yes, I'm perfectly alright now. Thank you. I think I forgot to earlier- you know, to thank you. Currently I'm trying to intice people to come in for a spot of tea and a book." I'm rambling and I know it. All I want to do is smack myself on the head.

"So you work in the dull place? It's me that should be apologizing to you then. I don't think I could stand working here. Gah."

" Oh this place?" I turn around and I don't know why but my store seems rather unappealing to me. So, I don't know why I did it- but I said something I really do regret. "No."

"Then It's really nice of you to try to help them out. In fact- would you mind being really nice to me and doing me a favor?"

"Anything for someone who helped me out earlier."

He winks at me and I can practically already hear him saying "Anything?" like people do- well men do. But he didn't. Instead he says something that blows me off guard, "Would you mind getting breakfast with me tomorrow before work? I normally wouldn't ask a stranger- but you seem nice, and pr-"

"I'd love to. Where would you like to meet?"

"Well there's this awesome place called, "The Egglectic Café"?"

"Sounds fabulous." And with that I wink at him, and walk inside the store. To where I am now. Still fighting the urge to hit myself. I winked at him! Oh bugger, now he'll think it's a date! I don't even know him! And so I proceed to hit my head on the wall. Bugger bugger bugger.

"Excuse me miss?" Comes a little girls voice. Sweet as sugar.

"Yes hon, may I help you?"

"Well, I'm looking for a book on dragons. A really really big book."

A book on dragons for a little girl is very odd and I mentally note that from experience all red heads are a little off their rockers. Speaking of rockers a nice rocker to sit and read in would be wonderful. But would the rocker get along with the rest of the furniture is the question. They already get into plenty of arguments as it is and if I add another piece of furniture in will they feel like they just weren't enough? However will my window seat react? Oh my, I've forgotten the little girl.

'Well, I'm sure we can find you something. Whose the book for?"

"It's for my uncle, my daddy sent me over here to find him a present so he can put his name on it and my uncle Bill won't think he forgot him again.Except I'm 3 so I'll be able to read this pretty soon. " She taps her chest proudly as if saying that she's a big hot shot.

" Oh my, 3? Well you're awfully smart aren't you?"

"Yup!" She smiles really big at me- I think she likes me. "How old are you?"

"Twenty. Ok come here, can you help me find it?" I know where it is. I practically wrote the book. Poor book has to be in the hands of a 3 year old though. The other books will feel utterly insignificant that they weren't picked. I do hope they don't fall into masochism. I sigh. I feel rather sad for the other books.

"Okey dokey!" And she pops a squat and squints her eyes looking at all the books that aren't going to be chosen.She squints her eyes real good too, until she comes across a book with a picture of a dragon on the binding. It's huge. I don't actually think she can carry it. It's one of the biggest books here- but when her eyes catch sight of the picture they glisten.

"Found it!!! I found it!!!" Oh wow, it's really really quite big. The poor book is quite obese. His self esteem must be shot. I heave it out of the shelf and walk to the counter. That'll be 20 galleons. The little girls eyes get really big and she gasps a little as she says hurriedly she'll be right back. She has to go get her daddy.