Confident | Fred Weasley

Chapter 106 | Burnt Out

With the shop closed, there were no customers, and so Fred could do his work wherever he liked. George much preferred perching on a stool by the till to package orders. Fred, tired of sitting in the same place, had used magic to push some shelves to the side. With a clearing near the tills, Fred spread his packaging materials across the ground.

His impromptu workspace gave him an excellent view of the front doors. Jugson and Montague still loitered outside, leaning casually against the wall. Jugson was there throughout the day and swapped with another Death Eater at nightfall. Montague left when Fred did, as he didn't know where Fred really lived. The illusion that Fred was still living at the flat was long gone, but no one had called him out on it yet.

He couldn't wait till the war was over, but first, he wanted Montague to pay. The Death Eater had harassed his family for far too long. Fred couldn't decide what fate he would rather Montague suffer; a brutal, painful death or an eternity rotting in Azkaban with the dementors.

Fred shivered at the thought of the soulless, cloaked figures. Maybe suffering the fate of dementors would be appropriate, but with Montague's wandless magic abilities, Fred was certain he would figure out a way to escape Azkaban. Sirius had done it without a wand after all.

So, a brutal, painful death would have to do. Would Fred kill him? He had never killed someone before. Could he do that?

Fred sighed loudly, sitting up straight. His back cracked, evidence of how long he had been leaning over and packaging orders. He kept glancing at the sky, awaiting the tell-tale sign of evening, eagerly anticipating heading home and spending time with Sarah. With no customers in the shop, the days at work seemed to last an eternity. His motivation for working, what had powered the love he had for his job, was seeing the expressions of wonder and amusement on people's faces at the sight of his products. Without that, the shop was dull.

With less and less desire to create, Fred could do nothing but brew in his thoughts. So, he thought about all the ways he wanted to hurt Montague, and other Death Eaters too. He yearned for this war to be over, his spirit dampened. Most of all, he thought of Sarah, and how the life he had imagined for them didn't have room for a war, or Death Eaters, or being in hiding.

He wanted to take her out on a date, rather than being stuck in the house or Headquarters. He wanted to return to the Burrow with his fiancée beside him. He had even gotten to the point where he wanted to think about wedding planning, something he never thought he would be that interested in.

"Was that your back?" Fred's train of thought was interrupted by George's echoing voice, tinged with disgust. "Sounds awful."

Fred huffed a laugh, "You offering a back massage?"

"Definitely not," George snickered over the rustling of wrapping paper, "You have a girlfriend for that."

"Fiancée," Fred corrected absentmindedly, measuring a piece of purple ribbon to tie around the box.

Fred wasn't looking, but he could practically feel George's eye roll, "Yeah, yeah. No need to rub that in my face, thanks."

Fred looked up, a bemused smile lighting up his face, "George, you're already married? How could I possibly rub that in your face?"

"Well, maybe I would have liked an engagement period," George answered, matching his brother's grin.

Fred's smile morphed into a grimace, "Count yourself lucky you didn't. Who knows if Sarah and I will ever be able to marry..."

George's grin softened, "Don't be daft. You two will."

Fred couldn't think of a response to such unabashed optimism, and so turned towards the front doors of the shop once more. He was really starting to understand how Sarah had felt a couple of weeks ago. Once the darkness began to seep in, it was hard to keep it away.