Weasley One Shots

Fred: The Shop

Introduction: Matilda has worked at the shop for a year since graduating Hogwarts. She's quickly been promoted to manager due to her hard work. She gets along with the twins and has a playful working relationship with one of them in particular.

It was late on a Friday and for some ungodly reason I was still working. We'd had a large shipment arrive, later than expected. The twins had the day off and I didn't want to make anybody else stay late, so I said I'd cover it. Sent everyone home after closing. I'd underestimated how long it would take.

I enjoyed being at the shop on my own. On dark winter mornings when I'd open, I'd get to watch the sun creep over the alley or on a summer evening, if I stayed late, the shop would flood with warm, golden light. But tonight was dreary. It'd been pouring with rain since the last of the team had left. Large rain drops had smattered the windows and then suddenly there was a downpour. I could hear it now, with all the curtains closed and low lamps lighting the ground floor where I was working. I couldn't deny it felt cosy.

But I'd much rather be at home or the pub. It was Friday night after all. I wondered if the twins were upstairs in their flat or out for the night already.

The boxes seemed never ending and as I completed one, checked items from the list and put them away, I'd turn back to the pile and not even have made a dent.

On my tenth box, I leant over the counter, my head in my hands, staring at the list of products. My eyes were crossing and the letters were jumbling up. Peering up at the clock, it read 10 o'clock. Far too late to still be here.

"I thought I saw a light on"

Footsteps tapped down the main staircase. Before I could even look up, he was standing on the other side of the counter, like a patient customer.

I looked up at him through my fingers, pouting comically so he knew I was losing the will to live, but trying not to complain.

"It arrived late" I sighed, "I just wanted it done before the weekend"

I stood up straight, flattened my hair, I could feel it was messy from almost pulling it out over this delivery. My eyes scanned him.

Fred looked more relaxed than usual. Him and George usually dressed smart for work. All waistcoats and buttoned up shirts. But this evening he had a soft knitted jumper on, rolled to his elbows so you could see the veins embroider his forearms. He wore brown corduroy trousers, they looked worn and a bit tattered. The best part was the slippers. Tartan and threadbare. He caught me glancing at them, a slight smile on my lips.

"Don't laugh" he chuckled, batting my arm, "I wasn't expecting to be seen by anyone at this hour"

"On a Friday night?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I've got work tomorrow, remember"

"You're the boss, it doesn't matter if you're hungover tomorrow" I grinned. Fred rolled his eyes, but I could see he was smiling. They'd both said repeatedly that they didn't like the word 'boss', insisted we didn't use it. But I reserved it for special occasions, when I wanted to get under their skin.

"Suppose you're right" Fred mumbled. He span the papers round on the counter to get a better look. "What's left then?"

"There's so much left, it's taking forever"

"Go home, Matilda. Really. I can finish this in the morning before we open" Fred insisted.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, really. Go home, get some rest" Fred nodded, looking up at me.

The way Fred held eye contact always made my heart beat a little faster than usual. It felt silly. He was simply good at communicating, but I didn't know anybody else who was able to gaze into your eyes for that long without losing the nerve and looking away. I could never keep still for very long. I'd always find an excuse to look down at my hands or at paperwork or out the window.