Jocasta

-Death helps life survive-

"Hey Fred,"

"Geeeooorge"

"You know that girl that works in the old bookshop?"

"Dia Sparrow?"

"No, the other one... You know, the one with the big blue eyes,"

"Jocasta Archer?"

"Yeah, well-"

"No."

"What?"

"I don't like her!"

"No! Fred, I know that, it's me! I like her!"

"You do?!"

"Erm well, sort of, maybe, yeah..." George's face had gone very red and he looked down into his hands.

"Well WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?" Fred shouted,

"Wha-" but Fred had grabbed George's hand and they were already out of the wide joke shop doors and in the wintery streets of Diagon Alley, heading towards the old bookshop around the back. The ebony paint plastered on old sign was peeling, but you could still make out the golden letters that read "Meadcalfe bookshop, founded 1684"

"Now, Georgie," Fred said, fixing George's hair as they stood outside the door, "Just go in there, and let the Weasley charm overtake you." Fred smiled at George and twisted him around.

"No, Fred, I'm not sure th-" George started but he had already been pushed through the rickety door,

The hubbub of noise from the busy street outside was suddenly muffled and the old bookshop creaked in welcome. George cleared his throat and stepped into the bookshop, he loosened his tie breathed in the inky air.

"Who's there?" snapped an aged voice from the back of the shop. The man was shielded from George's view by towering overfilled bookcases and treacherous toppling piles of book after book.

"I-It's me, sir, George Weasley? I work at the joke shop?"

"Don't be a scarminder, boy, come closer so I can see you."

George stepped round the maze of books, being careful not to stand on any of the books that littered the floor. Although the shop was apparently set out like a maze, he was soon at the front, where an old withered man stood hunched over his desk that was a mess of creased, stained pages of books and newspaper cuttings.

After a while of George and the man standing there, George looking awkward whilst theold man stared at him with curiosty

"You want to buy something?" asked the old man in a rasping voice, his words cutting through the silence like a knife.

George cleared his throat.

"Er, well, no. I was wondering if, um, Jocasta was here today?"

"Miss Archer's left." Said the man simply, and he eased himself away from the desk and down into an aged leather chair. He breathed out in sweet relief.

"Left? What d'ya mean, left?" George walked forward, the awkward and anxious state gone from his mind.

"Well she's gone, just like the rest of 'em."

The man looked up at George's face with dull green and he sighed deeply.

"Around a week ago Jocasta got a floo from her aunt," said the man, the memory playing behind his eyes, "Her parents were muggle-borns and, well, they-"

"Don't worry," said George, his voice bleak. He turned around and left the shop, his feet guiding the way through the dense book maze whilst his mind filled with thoughts.

All the while, Fred had been waiting outside of the shop, eager to find out what happened with his brother. Various scenarious had played out in his mind, and when George emerged from the doors, he pounced.

"GEORGE! What happened m'boy?" he squealed, his fingers clinging on to George's shoulders

"Nothing, Fred. She's gone. Her parents are dead."

George brushed Fred's fingers away and walked, gloomily, toward their shop. All happy thoughts ebbed away from Freds mind as he gazed after his brother, the bitter cold grabbing him and water budding in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Georgey." he said quietly.

A/N: Jocasta, by Noah and the Whale. Awh, please review! I will give you free unicorns if you do :3

Always,

Holly x