"So, Emily, what exactly were you and, um, Esmeralda talking about?" I asked casually, as their conversation ended.
"Oh, nothing," Emily replied, though there was something in her voice that convinced me that it was much more. She was smiling nervously, which only made me more curious.
"You two were talking about something," I said with slight anger, "and I wanna know what it was." Emily didn't reply and simply gave me a long, suffering look. After putting the human bond book away, Esmeralda joined them and said in a calm voice, "Let's go back to the front of the shop, shall we? We'll discuss you," she pointed at me, "later," and she walked out. I had a plan. A half-baked plan, but a plan.
"You go on ahead, Emily, I'll catch up. I want to look around a bit in here, y'know, see what there is to see," I said in my most innocent voice, which really wasn't all that innocent. Emily stared at me warily, but shrugged and went after Esmeralda. Perfect, I thought, it's working. I turned to the shelf of books and looked for the one recently used, a hard feat as they all looked pretty similar. I soon found it was the least dusty one and tried to pull it off the shelf. God damn it! I went right through the book. I went right through the everything and I needed to start remembering that. Huffing, I trudged to the front room.
"Did you see all the sights?" Emily snickered and I tried to wipe the upset-pouty expression off my face. I turned to the counter with a new, more blunt plan in play.
"Can I, uh, examine," I wanted to sound professional in the hopes of raising my chances, "that book you were just reading? Please?" It took me a moment to realize that Esmeralda looked old again.
"No," she said simply. I gaped at her, feeling the Weasley Temper getting to me. I wished I taken after dad in that area right then. It took a lot to get him angry and being calm probably would've worked better than yelling. But oh, well. I shouted at them both, curiosity and anger and fear all welling up inside me, wanting to know what was keeping me back, yearning to find out why I had to die at the age of twenty. They appeared horror struck. At first I thought it was my rant (which had included some, erm, choice words). But really, it was something a bit more impressive. I had caused one of the creepy doll shelves to rattle and shake and fall over. The dolls were not happy. I had always considered my biggest fears to be either losing family or needles. The former is self explanatory. The latter, I may need to catch you up on.
When I was seven, I went to St. Mungo's for a regular check up. And shots. No kid likes shots, and as such, I flipped out. I did NOT want those things near me. So, when the healer tried to give me shots, I tried to get away. It didn't work out like that. Mum was holding me in place as I squirmed and cried, pleading to be free. Now, Wizard needles seem to be a little different from Muggle needles. Since we don't have crazy machines do things for us, our needles are just a tad jagged, and learned the hard way. The shot was very close to my arm and I was still flailing. That's when, instead of the needle going into me on its own accord, I went into it. Everything happened so quickly, but the aftermath showed me how things had gone. I kept swinging my arms and the healer was still holding the evil little syringe and the jaggedness cut me open. Not too much, but enough to need medical attention. My fear started there. I would freeze up when around anything that even resembled a needle. Five year-old Ron took it like a champ, and I still resent that.
So, back to the present matter. I was starting to think dolls were going to be my worst fear now, and really, who wouldn't? An army of mad ceramic children, some of them life size, coming after you for disrupting them. Aren't things supposed to be afraid of ghosts? Not the other way around? I felt screwed. Until...Esmeralda waved her wand lazily and they all fell. She was bursting with laughter, clutching at her sides. She gazed at my terror-stricken face for a split second and started up again, even louder.
"I told you, I control them," she wheezed, "You should'a seen your face, boy!" She set off on another peal of laughter. I was offended to say the least. Emily, too, was laughing.
"And," giggle, "I thought," chuckle, "you were," snigger, "the prankster!" she finished. Had I not been dead, I was sure my face would have well surpassed the color red. Now not only did I fear dolls, but I hated mediums.
"OKAY!" I finally shouted, done with their laughter and ready to do something about my being dead, "Let's go!" And I stormed out with them in my wake.
A/N: Sweet Jebus, I suck at updating. This one's a tad shorter, but the next chapters will be put up on a more normal schedule. I left out the rant because, like it said, I was planning on using some vulgar, but I think we're fine where we are. Thank you for reading and whatnot. Hope you like it!