My beta, FawkesyLady, should be Minister for Magic. She's just that good. Thanks so much for your help, dear!
This chapter is a long one, dear readers, and I hope you'll find it enjoyable. It contains a... situation between Alice and Fred. They are most definitely NOT a couple, but a witch has her needs, right?
Also, I have gained quite a number of new followers in the last week - wow! That's incredible! Knowing that people are enjoying my work makes me happy (and makes me type faster), so if you're reading this, please consider leaving a review. Anyway. On with the show.
July rolled into August, and Alice sat on her kitchen doorstep, enjoying her first cigarette of the day. She had a steaming mug of strong coffee at her feet, and was contemplating the chores that needed doing, sorting them in a neat mental list in order of importance. She dipped her head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she observed Barry, who had returned a couple of days ago, and was now hopping across the paving slabs, merrily gobbling up the pieces of bread she had tossed at him earlier. They had buried the hatchet over a meal of gammon and eggs, and were friends again.
Time management was the order of the day. Between the endless cycle of washing, dusting and sterilising, she had a long list of potions to brew, formulas to adjust and experiments to run. She soon settled into a comfortable routine of housekeeping in the day and pursuing academic activities in the night - those she deemed worthy of her attention. She had fallen behind on her schoolwork, having only done the assignments for the subjects she enjoyed, and merrily relegated the dreaded Herbology essays to the very bottom of her list of priorities. She would do it later in the month. Or not at all. With her days structured and running like a Swiss watch, she had little time for idle pondering.
Life was as good as it could get, considering the circumstances. As Dumbledore predicted, the Essence required the minimum amount of attention and had stopped feeding, and Alice felt her strength return with each passing day. Her contact with her boss was mercifully limited to an update regarding their project's status, in exchange for her wages, which were paid out in Muggle cash. Once again, her too-thin frame had reacquired the softness appropriate to a young witch, and she no longer had to apply blush to better distinguish herself from a corpse. She was full of energy, and was now able to take pleasure in experimenting with potions again, often staying up late in her basement lab, brewing until she could no longer keep her eyes open.
That's not to say that she was entirely without trouble. A week had passed, but her last encounter with Professor Snape was never far from her mind. She had spent many fruitless hours trying to work out what had prompted the wizard to address her with such viciousness, but her memory failed her, refusing to bring forward the events of the night before. It was one thing for him to criticise her work in class - it was to be expected, and he wasn't the kind of teacher who minced his words. The personal remarks were a whole different story. His cruelty stung and confused her, even after all this time.
Alice had tried to convince her obsessive brain to stop analysing the odious wizard. She had lost count of the amount of times she firmly told herself that everyone had been right in calling him a bastard and an arsehole who could not be trusted. His venom had wrapped itself around her subconscious and poisoned it, releasing its vile fumes in moments of weakness, criticising her every action with revolting clarity, as though the man himself was standing there, whispering in her ear.
She kept herself busy, and took some comfort in the idea that this time next year she would be finished with school, and would never have to deal with Professor Snape again.
'But Gods, he's a nasty bugger,' She snorted with a shake of her head and stood, intending to busy herself with something that would break her obsessive train of thought. Just then, the unmistakable sound of flapping wings caught her attention. She squinted, shielding her eyes as she looked up to see an unfamiliar Eagle owl, slicing through the air at neck-breaking speed. The daft thing was carrying a Cadbury's chocolate bar in its talons, and appeared to be working rather hard to stay aloft with a fat brown envelope clutched in its beak. Coming in fast, it dropped the envelope at her feet, sending it skidding dangerously close to her forgotten coffee mug. Not waiting for a response, it winged away with a throaty hoot of relief.
Alice's eyes lit up as she recognised the logo of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes - she had been waiting for this letter all month. Having torn the envelope open with greedy fingers, she stared, slack-jawed at the small rectangle of parchment. One-hundred and twenty Galleons, seven Sickles and two Knuts. Her very first real payslip, containing all the commission she had earned by brewing for Fred and George. It was a decent amount, roughly the same as she would expect to make in a full-time retail job, and the knowledge that she had earned it herself - truly earned it through hard graft, made it all the more special.
'Thanks, my lovelies.' She kissed the payslip and hugged it to her chest, her heart going out to her two best friends. The payslip contained her Wizarding National Insurance contributions, and she smiled fondly, thinking of the lovely wizarding pension she would receive in a hundred and odd years.
The missive couldn't have come at a better time, as the laughable allowance she received from Dumbledore barely covered her overheads, basic food and of course tobacco. The start of term was approaching slowly, and Alice had wondered how she would afford her textbooks, supplies and new robes. Even buying second-hand was a big expense for a witch on a low income, but these wages would easily cover all the essentials, and she would probably have enough left over for some small luxuries.
The sweet taste of true independence filled the girl from within, radiating in a burst of renewed vitality as she danced around her kitchen with a squeal of delight. She made the decision to go to Diagon Alley immediately to cash in her cheque at Gringotts, chores be damned. She could visit a few shops and buy some supplies, and visit Fred and George after. Oh, she would gladly work twice as hard from now on - after all, the more potions she developed, the more commission would flow into her account, and the higher her pension would be!
She put on a pretty blue summer dress with a floral print and a pair of brown sandals. She spent a long time in front of the mirror, making sure her makeup was immaculate and checking her overall appearance could not be criticised. Snape's comments had hurt her far more deeply than she would ever admit, and she felt even more paranoid about her image than ever before. She twisted her hair up into a simple bun, then let it down, only to put it back up again - she thought she looked good, but would the bastard agree? Or would he just sneer at her in disgust?
She paused, her eyes widening in disbelief at her own stupidity. She knew she was pretty. Her mother may not have given her much in life, but she did give her a lovely face. She knew that her hair was clean, shiny and fragrant - unlike Snape, she made an effort to wash it every night. She could wear it down with pride, and if the Greasy Git had any complaints… 'Why do I even care what that ugly bugger thinks?!' She grimaced at her reflection in befuddlement. 'Alice Crowley, you are being ridiculous!'
She rummaged in her handbag, which was the only completely disorganised thing in her possession, and found the key to her Gringotts vault. It was only a small key, silver, with no ornaments - the intricate, bejewelled keys were reserved for the most prominent and wealthy wizarding families, those with vaults that required a cart ride around the bowels of the bank. Her own vault was located in one of the uppermost levels of Gringotts, where the ordinary magical folks kept their modest incomes.
Steeling herself, Alice closed her eyes and clutched her key in a white-knuckled grip, forcing her breathing to slow in an act of mental preparation as her stress levels began to rise. 'Alright, Alice. You can do this.' She told herself firmly. 'Yes, there will be people there, but no, they won't bite you. You're neither the first nor the last to cash in a cheque.'
With one last deep breath, Alice turned on the spot and apparated to Diagon Alley.
The wizarding shopping district was calmer that day than the last time she had visited. The crowds were thinner, and there were less ankle biters running up and down the cobbled streets. Those who liked to be prepared had bought all of their school supplies already, and the slackers would leave it until the last week of August. The thought of being able to peruse the stores without the risk of being stampeded to the ground by a horde of procrastinating shoppers was unspeakably lovely to the young witch. Clutching the brown envelope to her heart, she navigated her way to Gringotts with a spring in her step, making a mental shopping list of all the nice things she would finally be able to afford. Brand new robes. Shiny, fragrant textbooks that haven't been dog-eared and abused by Merlin knew how many students. Decent quality parchment, and maybe even a pot of ink, pitch-black, rather than the cheap ink she usually bought that quickly faded to grey. And if she had any money left over from her spree, she would treat herself to some pretty new shoes - she had seen a beautiful pair of black, shiny mid-heel leather pumps at Madam Malkin's the other week, very sleek and outrageously pointy. Yes, that was a good way of spending her first proper payday.
Mind swimming with sweet ideas for spending her Galleons, she reached the bank before she knew it, and stepped inside the great snow-white building. The marble floors and sparkling chandeliers of the vast main hall had always intimidated Alice, making her feel painfully out of place among the grandeur and opulence.
Her eyes darted around the hall, searching for an unoccupied counter. Her senses were instantly on high alert, registering the sounds of scratching quills and shuffling feet, as well as the general humming of numerous conversations echoing all around the vast space. The enchanted chandeliers were unnaturally bright, reflecting beams of dancing, shimmering light onto the enormous columns that stood in neat rows to her left and right. Alice gulped, frightened by the sensory overload, her heart hammering in her chest as her instincts screamed at her to turn around and run. She eyed the exit, worrying her lower lip in indecision, feeling lost and alone in the milling crowds. The idea that she was brave enough to do this flew out of her mind, and a flush of shame burned her cheeks. 'An embarrassment to House Gryffindor,' the familiar, hateful voice drawled lazily inside her head. 'Incapable of performing even the simplest of tasks. Useless.'
Just then, she spotted a free counter and trotted towards it. A Goblin sat imperiously behind his tall, imposing desk, polished to a high shine, looking at her with obvious distrust. She blushed as she put the cheque on the desk's gleaming surface and pushed it towards the nasty-looking creature, the weight of his gaze making her feel like a criminal. Her eyes darted to the nameplate on his desk, where the goblin's name, 'Ulnar', was engraved in gleaming silvery writing.
Moments passed in an uneasy silence. Ulnar drew his brows together, and began drumming his long-taloned hand on his desk in impatience, prompting the witch to state her business. Alice cleared her throat, searching for the right words to say, her tongue twisting itself in knots as she finally stammered, 'Um… hello there,'
The shifty bastard inclined his head, his beady eyes trained on Alice's beet-red face. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, and after a short pause, she managed to gather her wits enough to continue in a small voice, 'I'd like to cash in a cheque, and withdraw twenty Galleons from my vault.'
Ulnar croaked suspiciously, his voice reminding Alice of the sound of nails scratching down a blackboard, 'And does Miss have her wand?'
The witch presented her wand to the goblin with an awkward nod, and squeaked when he swiftly plucked it out of her outstretched hand. Beetle-black eyes observed the dark piece of wood carefully, whilst one long, curved nail glided smoothly across its length. Ulnar nodded his head, seemingly deep in thought as he continued his examination for a few moments longer.
Abruptly, he flipped the wand in his fingers and returned it to Alice, hilt first, before raising one bushy eyebrow questioningly. He asked, 'And does Miss have her key?' His tone was less suspicious now, although no less unpleasant.
'R-Right here!' Alice squealed, and with shaking hands, she placed her key on the counter along with the cheque. He greedily snatched both items, and placing the silver key to the side, perused the cheque with narrowed eyes, muttering something unintelligible. Each second felt stretched to infinity as Alice stood, her nervous hands fiddling with the strap of her bag. She examined her shoes, desperately wishing to be a million miles away. That nasty little pointy-eared twat wasn't making it any easier - she only wanted to cash in her rightfully earned wages, for Merlin's sake, not steal the Black family gold!
At last, Ulnar picked up Alice's key and inserted it into an ancient-looking mahogany till. A small drawer popped out, and he pressed some buttons and pulled a small handle, which elicited a loud, drawn out creaking sound from the ancient-looking contraption. Seconds later, the drawer began filling itself up with golden coins, and Alice's eyes widened at the sight. This was hers.
'Twenty Galleons,' the goblin proclaimed as he stacked the shiny coins in towers of five and dropped them in front of the witch. Lifting a flap just above the drawer, he pushed the cheque through a narrow slit and shut the till forcefully before returning the key.
Alice felt a strong wave of relief wash over her tense body as she promptly collected her money in her handbag, happy to finally be able to leave this wretched place. She wondered if Fred and George would send her wages straight into her vault. She could not imagine repeating this particular task every month.
The sound of snickering right behind her back made her turn around sharply, and all blood drained from her face as she recognised Draco Malfoy, standing a couple of paces away with a sour-looking Pansy Parkinson on his arm. They were pointing in her direction, and obviously sharing a good laugh at Alice's expense. Alice clutched her handbag close to her chest in a protective gesture as she took a step towards the exit, wishing to avoid confrontation. Her stress levels were through the roof as it was, and she was not willing to add to it by getting herself involved in a fight. Malfoy may have been a year younger, but he was almost a head taller, and never passed up on an opportunity to taunt Muggleborns.
'Twenty Galleons!' Draco howled, dramatically bending over as he held his sides. His pug-faced companion giggled along, staring at the amused Malfoy heir with worship in her enormous green eyes. Alice thought that she looked rather like a cow gawking at a painted gate, and before she had a chance to think better of it, a loud snort escaped her lips. Bad move.
Draco's cackle died in his throat instantly, twisting his elegant features into a look of burning hatred. Scowling, he took a step towards Alice, and hissed, 'What's so funny, Mudblood? I wouldn't be laughing if I were you.' His eyes slid down, and came to rest on Alice's handbag. 'Aww, look at this little Mudblood, with her twenty Galleons… And who did you steal them from? Or have you started selling yourself already?' He snorted, and chuckled at his own joke, sending Pansy into fits of silvery laughter behind him.
Alice dry-swallowed. Her heart was pounding a rampant staccato, and she clenched her fist, tempted to punch the little bastard and wipe that contemptuous smile off his face. Instead, she squared her shoulders and rose her chin, looking the little prat straight in the eye with an air of calm superiority. 'Says the one who's never done an honest day's work in his life,' She enunciated coldly before her lips quirked up in a venomous smirk. She leaned in a little closer, as though about to relay a particularly juicy piece of gossip, and whispered sotto-voce, 'And how is your daddy nowadays? I hope he's enjoying Azkaban… I bet he can't wait to see you again. But don't fret! You never know, you might be joining him soon enough!'
The boy's face turned white, making him look as transparent as a ghost. Mere moments passed before he regained his composure. Tapping his upper lip with one finger, he measured Alice with narrowed eyes for a long time, as though valuing an inanimate object. At length, he cocked his head to the side, and said offhandedly, 'Oh, so you can speak! I thought you were dumb - or so they say…' He shrugged, 'Never mind. I suggest that you watch your back, Mudblood. You obviously don't know who you're messing with.'
Alice bared her teeth, her discomfort replaced by a spark of uncontrollable wrath. In one short moment, she forgot the lectures on civilised conduct, drummed into her head from her first day at Hogwarts by Professor McGonagall. She was, once again, a violent girl from the council estate, following her thug of a father's example. She knew she was going to make the situation worse, but found that she didn't care. She blurted, 'Oh, do I not? I thought I was messing with a piece of Hippogriff shite and his pug-faced slut. Honestly, Malfoy, have some standards. Is your family so disgraced that you have taken to fucking dogs? Or should I say, bitches?'
In one sharp move, Malfoy reached inside his sleeve and whipped out his wand, but Alice was quicker, her reflexes sharpened by the adrenaline in her veins. She dipped her chin, fixing the boy with a predatory calm, her wand pointed at his chest in challenge mixed with warning. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, and she felt a rush of power, a lust for vengeance. Her excitement grew by the second, her entire being itching for a brawl.
Pansy looked about them, visibly alarmed. 'Are you two mad?!' She whispered, tugging at Draco's sleeve, her eyes wide.
The interruption alerted Alice to the whispered hisses and mutterings circulating around the lobby. A crowd had gathered around them, transfixed by the unusual scene. Alice kept her eyes trained solely on Malfoy, her concentration preventing her from feeling any discomfort at being the centre of attention. Ignoring the spectators, the witch and wizard continued to stand with their wands drawn, their gazes locked, their bodies taut. Somewhere in the background, an infant began to cry.
As if on cue, the floor manager, a goblin with an extra fancy watch, pointed at the three young wizards, shrieking, "Desist at once before I call the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol on you! We won't have any fools dueling on premises!"
Alice's rush dissipated as quickly as it appeared, and she lowered her wand, stepping back a pace, cautiously keeping her eyes trained on the two Slytherins. She would not turn her back first.
Malfoy and Parkinson muttered their apologies to the manager, and turned to depart with a casual air, as though what happened minutes before was unworthy of their attention. Unhurriedly, they strolled towards the exit in silence, with heads raised high, leaving Alice to watch their retreat. As the heat of battlesong stilled in her heart, she heard Draco call over his shoulder, 'We'll talk later, Mudblood. Enjoy what's left of your Galleons and summer.'
'Enjoy your freedom, whatever's left of it.' Alice muttered under her breath. Looking around, she realised that the manager remained nearby, glaring in a clear warning. She blushed, discomfited at the weight of his gaze. The hostile girl from the council estates was gone, and a small, vulnerable witch now stood in her place, embarrassed and humiliated.
Ducking her head, she hugged her bag to her chest and trotted outside, desperate for a gulp of fresh air. All thoughts of her highly anticipated shopping day flew out of her mind. The very thought of facing any more crowds made her chest feel tight, and she was sure to splinch herself if she attempted Apparition in her flustered state. What she needed was a hot drink and a place to hide. She needed Fred and George.
She kept her eyes fixed on the pavement beneath her feet as she scurried around Diagon Alley in the direction of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, bypassing all the shops she was going to visit. Her heart ached a little at the thought of the lovely shoes, but her stress levels were through the roof, threatening to erupt in a panic attack. Her breathing became more and more laboured with each step, and she felt chills running down her spine, reinforcing the all too familiar feeling of impending danger. She walked faster, putting as much distance as she could between the bank and herself, making a conscious effort to remember to breathe. 'I didn't... fucking... steal that... money,' She ground out between deep breaths, a tiny spark of indignation flickering back to life in her heart. She broke into a brisk jog, ignoring the increasing pressure in her chest as the front of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes materialised before her eyes.
'I fucking earned it.'
Her throat contracted, and her eyes stung as relief, anger and a profound sadness rolled through her mind like a ball of thunder. Alice refused to cry. The place where she earned her living was right there before her, a safe haven in a hostile land. She would never allow anybody to make her feel worthless ever again. Not Snape, not Malfoy, not Dumbledore, not Anybody. Not ever.
Finally, she approached the shop entrance and peered inside through the window. The shop floor was frighteningly busy, with throngs of sugar-high children seemingly bouncing off the walls, filling their shopping bags with piles upon piles of sugar quills, snackboxes and prank paraphernalia, chased by exasperated-looking parents who struggled to contain their boisterous brood. Even through the layer of thick glass, Alice could clearly hear the mighty din that awaited inside. She dared not set foot in there.
Instead, she walked around the back of the building and opened the service door, wondering if either twin would find a few minutes to sit with her. She felt a little selfish in expecting them to abandon their duties in favour of taking care of her, but she was sure that her friends would let her sit in the office by herself if necessary. Maybe she could even make herself useful. As long as it didn't involve facing any customers, that is.
She climbed the stairs leading up to the first floor, and made a beeline for the office, navigating the stockroom with ease. It was filled with innumerable products from floor to ceiling, and Alice was pleased to see that the potions section contained several open boxes and seemed to be running low. 'Good.' She thought, 'They must be selling well.'
The office door was wide open, and Alice immediately spotted Fred, sitting at his desk with a quill in his hand and a steaming cup of tea to his side, squinting at the small collection of parchments laid out before him. A wave of warmth and affection spread across Alice's chest, and she quickened up her pace, running the last few steps as she stormed into the office, crying, 'Fred!'
The wizard looked up sharply, visibly startled. 'Huh? Ala! What brings you here? Are you alright?' He stood quickly and walked around the desk, spreading his arms wide in invitation. He huffed, 'Ooft!' as Alice collided with his chest at full speed, threatening to knock him off his feet. He hugged her tightly, his strong arms providing the reassurance she needed so badly. She was safe now.
'What's up, love? Has something happened?' Fred placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her head upwards, his brows knitting together in an expression of concern as he took in her visibly distressed state. 'Go on, tell me. I can tell that something's upset you. What's wrong?' His voice was soothingly sweet, and he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face with his fingertips lovingly, the simple gesture draining away the remaining tension in her posture.
'Fred, Fred, Fred!' She chanted, and buried her face in his neck, breathing in deeply. He smelled of juniper and dragon leather, familiar and comforting. Clutching the front of his jacket tightly in her hands, Alice babbled in a rush, 'I got the payslip, and I went to Gringotts, and Malfoy was there, and I nearly hexed him, and the goblin was a nasty piece of work, and I'm so sorry to just storm in here like…'
Chuckling, Fred interjected, 'Whoa! Slow down, lass! Here, sit down and tell me everything. Slowly.' He took her gently by the elbow and led her towards the comfy chair in the corner, waiting patiently as Alice slumped down in it, making herself comfortable with a drawn-out sigh. Fred closed the door, and brought his own chair over and sat opposite the witch. He grasped her shaking hands and held them tightly in his own, crooning, 'It's alright, Ala, you're safe. Would you like a drink?'
'Tea would be nice,' Alice's eyes shone with wonder as the redhead conjured a mug of steaming tea with a lazy flick of his wand. She was impressed - since leaving school, her friends' magical power seemed to bloom, unrestrained by rules and safety regulations. She smiled lightly, considering the thought.
'Here.' Fred pecked his friend on the forehead as she accepted her drink with a nod of gratitude. Easing himself back into his chair, he lifted up her legs and placed them in his lap. He began massaging her calves, applying gentle pressure with his warm, soothing hands, calming the last signs of tension in her body. He smiled, and prompted, 'Talk to me.'
Alice drew a shuddering breath, reorganising her thoughts and getting them back on track. The massage was really rather nice, and the tea was lovely and fragrant. She couldn't help but smile as she recognised her favourite jasmine green tea, a rare treat. Her best friend really knew her too well. Still grinning like a loon, she took a small sip of her beverage, wincing as the scalding liquid burned the tip of her tongue. 'I got the payslip today - thanks very much by the way,'
'Don't thank me, love, you've earned it.'
'Yes, well, I went to Gringotts to cash in the cheque, and to withdraw some money, because I wanted to do a bit of shopping, shoes and stuff…' Alice giggled nervously, her head swinging forward to hide her face behind a curtain of golden hair. 'And the goblin was a prick, staring at me as though I was a soddin' thief,'
Fred nodded in understanding, 'Yeah, they do that. Nasty little wrinkled buggers.'
'And then Malfoy… Draco Malfoy. Yeah. He was standing behind me with that bint, Parkinson. He was… laughing at me. He called me a Mudblood, and asked if I had stolen the money, or sold myself for it... '
Fred hissed, his eyes flashing with anger at this report. Alice snorted, and shook her head dejectedly, 'I've never felt so humiliated in my life. And then the people were staring…'
'Alice.' Fred interjected firmly. 'Alice Crowley, you are no thief. A bit rough around the edges maybe, but then, so am I. And George too. You've earned that money, and you better know it. I don't understand why you'd pay any attention to what that bloody ferret says anyway.'
The witch nodded, and Fred smiled at her warmly, caressing her cheek with the side of his thumb. 'I hope you hexed his bollocks off. And if not, I could arrange…'
'No, no. I didn't hex him. Well, I almost did.' Alice raised one eyebrow with a cheeky grin, 'Instead, I decided to be civil and enquired about his father…'
Fred's eyes widened in disbelief. Slapping his thigh, he threw his head back and roared with triumphant laughter, the muscles in his belly visibly crunching as the boy's form shook with malicious mirth. At length, he finally managed to catch his breath, wiping the corner of his eye as he exclaimed, 'That's my girl!'
Alice's smile widened, exposing a pair of adorable dimples, thinking that Fred really did look glorious in throes of mirth. Clearing her throat, she continued, her voice dripping with disdain, 'He didn't look too happy when he walked away, you know. But he did threaten to ''deal with me'' at school. I wish him luck.' She waved her hand vaguely, dismissing the not so subtle threat.
Meanwhile, Fred had resumed his tender ministrations, and Alice allowed herself to relax completely, her troubles floating away like clouds after rainfall, pushed to the back of her mind by the sensation of Fred's slender hands rubbing the spot just above her knee in broad, soothing circles. Alice moaned in the back of her throat, her eyes fluttering shut as Fred's hand glided up her leg, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and started fondling the edge of her dress, pushing the fabric upwards to expose her thigh.
Alice smirked and stretched like a cat in a sunbeam, knowing what the cheeky wizard was up to. 'Hey Fred,' She purred, and lifted one leg and placed it on his shoulder.
'Mmm?' Fred murmured, a low, sensual sound. He turned his head and leaned in closer, placing slow, open-mouthed kisses along Alice's calf.
'Nnnnothing…' Alice shuddered, her leg muscles tensing under Fred's kisses. He was slowly making his way up to her knee, his supple lips leaving goosebumps in their wake. Alice's breathing deepened, her belly clenching as a small spark of arousal flickered to life in her blood, manifesting itself in a pink flush that began spreading slowly across her face and chest. She hooked her leg on his shoulder in a tight grip and pulled him closer, her awareness narrowing down to the wizard before her and her own growing desire.
Fred looked up, locking his eyes with hers, and without a word slid his hand under her dress, skimming her thigh with his fingertips, his touch as light as a feather. Alice gasped, her pupils widening as Fred cupped her gently and began grinding the base of his palm into Alice's core, applying moderate pressure. She wriggled her hips in encouragement, breathing audibly as her undulating body found its rhythm, meeting Fred's hand with a thrust of her own. Soon, the air in the office felt hot and short of air, silent, except for the sound of heavy breathing punctuated by Alice's moans of exquisite pleasure. She picked up the pace, rubbing her sex against Fred's hang with increased urgency, the slick juices gathering in her knickers heightening her arousal.
He paused abruptly and stood, eliciting an irritated groan from the witch. She looked up at him, her brows knitting together in annoyance, and opened her mouth to complain. She never made her point, silenced by Fred, who swooped down in one fluid movement, and captured her lips with his own in a searing kiss. Alice melted away, parting her mouth to grant him entrance as he ran his tongue across her lower lip. They kissed, nipped and explored, their tongues sliding against each other with growing urgency. It was not a graceful kiss - all bumping noses and clinking teeth, but Alice was aflame, all conscious thought obliterated from her mind as Fred slipped her knickers to the side and slid one finger inside her tight, wet channel.
Alice groaned, breaking the kiss. She kept her eyes fixed on Fred's face, drinking in the sight of his swollen lips and clouded eyes, knowing that his look of sheer lust mirrored her own.
The corner of Fred's mouth quirked up in a small smirk, and he removed his finger from Alice's pussy in one drawn-out, deliberate movement. Without breaking eye-contact, he brought his sodden finger up to his face and inserted it into his mouth with a hum of appreciation as he savoured her juices. Alice's breath hitched, and she began whispering, urging him to do it again.
The sudden sound of approaching footsteps made the two teenagers jump, disentangling themselves from each other with the speed of the latest Nimbus. Fred hissed, 'Shit! George is coming!', and sprinted to sit behind his desk. Meanwhile, Alice closed her legs and sat back in a more ladylike pose, rearranging her hair and smoothing her dress over her knees. Within seconds, Alice and Fred were the picture of propriety.
Finally, the door opened, and a very flustered George walked in, his posture suggesting utter exhaustion. His hair was sticking out in all directions, and his freckled face was covered in mud, straw and tiny clusters of pink and purple fur. Gesturing wildly, he whined, 'Fred, these blasted Pygmy Puffs have shat all over the shop floor again. I don't know…'
'Hello, Georgy, it's nice to see you too!' Alice piped up from her spot in the corner. She had rested her elbow in the armrest of her chair, and supported her head in the palm of her hand. George paused, and turned his head in her direction, his stormy expression transforming into a wide smile of happy surprise.
'Ala! Helloooo, my dear! I didn't know you were here!' George beamed like the sun, his voice full of delight as he stepped closer and opened his arms to greet his friend. Alice darted out of her chair and sprinted straight into George's embrace, giggling happily as her friend squeezed her hard and swayed them from side to side.
Rising to the tips of her toes, she pecked him on the cheek and explained, 'I really only popped in five minutes ago. Had a bit of a crap experience at Gringotts - a long story, Fred will tell you about it. I just needed somewhere to hide, and really should get going. I see you're quite busy today.'
'Yeah, it's been mental,' George sighed, and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. 'Bloody Pygmy Puffs. I swear we are turning into victims of our own success. Oi, Fred, you won't mind going back to the shop floor for a bit? I could do with a rest. I'll finish the paperwork.'
Fred replied, 'Sure thing,' and put his arm around Alice's shoulder, leaning in to whisper in to kiss the side of her head. 'I'll leave you in my brother's capable hands then, love.' Alice nodded in reply, and turned to give Fred a quick hug before he made his way to the door. 'Well then, I better get moving. It was great to see you, Ala, but all these wares won't sell themselves, you know!' He sent Alice a quick wink before walking out of the office, closing the door behind him.
Alice turned to George, her lips stretched into a radiant smile. 'I should be going too. I'm sorry I can't stay longer this time, but I still have a lot of brewing to do.'
Slumping his shoulders, George looked at Alice with pleading eyes, 'Oh Merlin, please! We're running low on everything already, and the customers were fighting on the remaining bottles of… well, everything! We can barely keep up with the demand, Ala, you're just that good!'
'How long will the current stock last you for?'
'About a week.'
Alice nodded thoughtfully, rubbing her chin with her thumb. 'You should have said earlier, really. But I think I'll manage to have everything ready within a week.'
George sighed, 'Thanks, sweets. We're a bit understaffed, and forgot all about sending you the stock list. Floo us when you're ready and we'll come and collect, aye?'
'Aye. Alright then, I need to go now if I want to start tonight.' She stood on tip-toe again and ruffled George's hair affectionately. 'You be good, and I'll see you soon.
'Bye, ducky!'
She wiggled her fingers in the air, and disapparated without further ado.
'Two, three, four, aaand stop.'
Alice counted under her breath, stirring her potion in controlled, precise movements. She had placed three cauldrons on her workbench, and was dividing her attention between them, her concentration unbreakable as she rapidly moved from one cauldron to the other, stirring, adjusting, adding ingredients, her hands steady, her movements balanced with the grace of a dancer, her eyes fixed upon her work.
The cauldron to her left contained a thick, mustard-yellow paste. It was her latest invention, Cut'n'Graze, slower-acting than Dittany, but without the terrible itching and scarring caused by the original. She was stirring it slowly with one hand, and with the other, she was adding crushed Bulgarian Rose petals to the cauldron in the middle, dropping them into the whirling potion in tiny increments.
She could feel the paste thickening under her stirring rod, and applied more pressure as she continued to stir until it was thick enough that she could let go of the stirring rod and have it remain upright. She could tell that the paste was perfect just by feeling its consistency, and the paste's pearly shimmer promised perfection. She took the cauldron off the heat, leaving it to cool as she jogged over to stand between her two remaining cauldrons.
The potion to her right began to boil, and she flicked her wand, lowering the flame. Taking advantage of the few precious minutes she had before it needed her attention, she turned to the simmering WrinkleShrinker and added the bitter orange peel, immortelles and cinnamon in rapid succession, stirring furiously until the dusky-pink liquid whirlpooled again. White, glistening fumes began rising from the surface, filling the small lab with an sweet, intoxicating fragrance.
'Mmmm. Stunning.' Alice hummed, breathing in deeply. 'Effective and pleasant to use, no wonder it's a best-seller.'
Aware of the ticking clock and the sound of steady simmering to her right, Alice turned around to her workbench. She had laid out a small collection of ingredients there, measured out and placed in small jars, ready to be prepared, along with a piece of muslin cloth and a piece of string.
She rough-chopped her jasmine flowers, narcissus stalks and wisteria petals, her dexterous hands moving fluidly, with an easy confidence that spoke of undeniable skill. She worked quickly, not wasting any precious seconds as she placed her ingredients on the small square of muslin, along with the pre-ground honeysuckle and lemon peel, and gathered the lot in a small bundle. She tied it with the string before turning back to the cauldron and dropping it into the bubbling potion.
Immediately, its surface began to ripple and foam at the edges, its colour transforming from a dull grey to a brilliant blue and then to a deep shade of blue-green. Alice nodded in apparent satisfaction, and turned her attention back to the WrinkleShrinker, which was now giving off puffs of salmon-pink fumes that twirled and undulated in the air, continuously releasing their beautiful fragrance. She picked up a tiny phial from a nearby tray, and brought it to eye-level, squinting as she perused its contents under the light from the ceiling lamp. 'I'll need to order some more,' She muttered as she uncorked the phial. 'Two drops of Veela tears and your face will be as smooth as a baby's bottom.'
She carefully dropped the small amount of the precious tears into the potion and took the cauldron off the heat immediately. It was tricky - she had to get the timing just right, lifting up the cauldron by its handle just as the tears hit the surface. She had ruined her first and second-ever batches by picking up the cauldron one second too late, and was not prepared to make the same mistake again - Veela tears were rare and eye-wateringly expensive, and she still remembered the anger she felt as she poured the failed potions down the drain, knowing just how much profit was now making its way through the sewers.
This time, her timing was perfect, and the WrinkleShrinker sizzled and fizzed as expected. Three large bubbles rose and burst at the surface, and it was still, a thin liquid the colour of rosé wine, with a barely visible silvery shimmer, detectable only under a strong source of light. This innocuous sparkle was a signature of sorts, obtained through a technique she had developed whilst experimenting with Fred and George, modifying existing recipes to suit her needs and inventing new ones if necessary. She took enormous pride in her work, and so each of her products available at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes contained that signature shimmer, a mark of impeccable quality and craftsmanship.
Humming tunelessly, Alice walked back to her last cauldron and took a peek at its contents. 'Perfect!' She proclaimed as she stirred it twenty times anti-clockwise and turned off the heat, leaving it to cool down where it was. It was slowly darkening, now green-blue rather than blue-green, and by the time it had cooled, it would be a striking shade of a deep grass-green. It smelled strongly of narcissus - grassy, vegetal and earthy.
'Well!' She breathed as she gathered a collection of tubs, phials and jars, ready to transfer her three products into their final containers. 'I believe I have just solved the problem of alopecia, or I'll eat my own shoes!'
When Alice's head finally hit the pillow around the ass-crack of dawn, she slept long and deeply, dreaming of Fred's sweet caresses and balding wizards with state pensions. Or was it Fred's state pension being caressed by balding wizards?