Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

Stumbling Towards Love (Regulus Black)

The last time requests were open, this particular one was requested multiple times by different people who didn't know that I already planned on writing it. Hopefully it lives up to the expectations ~

____________________

Working in an independent bookshop was every bookworm's dream. It seemed so perfect, being surrounded by books and like-minded workers and having a staff discount on the books was great. As it was a smaller shop, I had flexible hours to work that fit around my school schedule and during the quieter hours, I could pluck a book that took my fancy from the shelves and leaf through it. But, the only downside was that the number of quieter hours had begun to increase.

The shop, regardless of how much I loved the cosy aesthetic, wasn't drawing as many customers as it should have. Had I been asked, I'd tell my boss that maybe if they filled the shelves with some more current books, rather than 'literary classics' to suit their own intellectual vanity, maybe they'd make more money. If I relied on my job for something more than my pocket money, the lack of customers would cause me stress, so really, I didn't understand how my boss could swan in and out of the shop without a single care.

During my shift so far, I had served a couple of elderly customers who bought a hardbound copy of something with a ridiculous, overly lengthy title, and no one else had bought anything. Multiple people walked into the shop and spent some time perusing the shelves before inevitably coming up to me as I sat, reading Pride and Prejudice for the hundredth time behind the counter, to ask if we had the newest book in a young adult series. The answer - the same answer I gave to all of these questions, was that unfortunately, we did not.

Just as I reached the part of the book where Elizabeth Bennet was rejecting Mr Darcy's first proposal, the bell on the counter was rung. Putting my bookmark in place, I stood up and placed the book on the stool before turning my attention to the counter where a young man stood, cradling a soft bound collection of Dickens's work. Taking the collection from him and being thankful that he saw no need to make small talk with me, I rang up his purchase and held out a hand for the money.

"Thank you," I said with a smile that he returned distractedly, picking through the collection of leather bookmarks by the till. He picked one out, holding it out for me and when I scanned it, he gave me more money to pay for the bookmark.

Opening the till and fishing out the correct change, I closed it with my hip, ripping off the receipt and holding both out to the customer. Accepting his change and gathering his purchase in his arms, he didn't even respond to me, "Have a good day."

It would have been normal for me to turn back, to return once more to the world of Elizabeth Bennet, but to my surprise I couldn't. There was a customer standing right behind the first. Maybe if I walked outside, I'd find pigs flying in the sky.

The customer, a teenage boy, not seeming older than me, stood patiently waiting even as I looked over him in surprise. I realised, rather belatedly as I watched him raise a hand to fidget with his dark hair at the back of his neck where it spilled over the collar of his coat, that my surprise had rendered me speechless.

"Sorry," I apologised instantly, gathering myself and holding my hands out for the book that he wanted to buy. Only, I quickly realised that he didn't have any books in his hand, and was forced to lower my hands to my side. "Can I help you with something?"

"I -" His voice came out jumbled, weedy and a little squeaky. Harshly clearing his throat as red rose to his cheeks, he gathered the courage to speak once more, "I need some help, Miss Velasquez."

My name, one I never heard whilst working, startled me so much that I almost asked how he knew my name. I was glad I didn't - not when he gestured to the name tag pinned to my jumper. I'd gotten so used to not having our few customers - usually far older than I was - seeing me as an invisible helper there to make their day easier, that I almost forgot that my nametag was there to give me some form of identity.