Callidora ☆ Fred Weasley

[chapter 95]

The Three D's

"That's fourteen orders of Canary Creams." George said, finishing his count with a satisfied nod.

Fred let out a low whistle.

"Not bad."

"Seven Sickles each." George added, looking very pleased with himself.

"People are idiots." Lucy said fondly, sealing another package.

"And you're doing that bow wrong." Stella cut in packing the order in front of her with a neat bow.

Lucy paused.

Looked down.

"It's a bow."

"It's lopsided."

"It has character."

"It has issues."

Lucy scoffed, aggressively retying it.

"There. Happy?"

Stella finally glanced up.

"Less unhappy."

George snorted.

Calli huffed a quiet laugh from where she sat, one leg tucked beneath her, a book open in her lap, notes scattered around her in neat, precise stacks.

Fred leaned against the sink beside her.

Close enough that his shoulder brushed hers.

Close enough that when he leaned slightly to glance at her book, she could feel the warmth of him.

Not that he was actually reading.

Calli could tell.

His eyes weren't tracking the page.

They flicked.

To her.

Then away.

Then back again.

Something had shifted.

Since the courtyard.

Since the rosebush.

It wasn't obvious.

But it was there.

In the way neither of them quite stepped away anymore.

In the way silence between them felt full. Charged.

Fred's arm brushed hers again.

Then stayed.

Calli didn't move.

Didn't look at him.

But her shoulder leaned just slightly into his.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Across the bathroom, Lucy narrowed her eyes at them briefly then looked at George.

George raised a brow.

Smirked.

Said nothing.

Fred's fingers tapped idly against the wood of the table near Calli's hand.

Restless.

They brushed her knuckles.

Once.

Like an accident.

Twice.

Not an accident.

Testing.

Waiting.