Harry Potter Oneshots

Parents (Bill Weasley)

Days in the shop were always packed with action. Every moment was filled with helping a customer, replacing the ice cream that seemed to fly out of the tub, and helping the owner, Florian Fortescue, balance his books in the backroom. I loved the job, a summer one I got when I was off from Hogwarts. It pained me that this was the very last summer I had to work here before leaving to pursue a true career in the Wizarding World.

The bell to the shop dings as I'm replacing the most popular flavor and I automatically look up at the customer. It's a young red-haired boy I don't recognize, but I offer a bright smile as he approaches the counter. He looks around the shop in wonder and I smile more; I loved seeing the expression of wonder on kids' faces.

"What can I get you?" I ask brightly. He flushes and turns his attention to the flavors. His eyes widen when he sees our vast selection and I can see his tiny brain being overwhelmed. I briefly wonder whether I should even serve him; a little kid probably didn't have money. At his expression I push the thought back.

"Er, what's good?" He asks. I grin and set my scooper in the lukewarm water, grabbing some small plastic spoons from their designated cup.

"I prefer the Toffee Apple, if I'm being biased," I say conversationally and take a small spoonful, handing it to him over the counter. He reaches up on his tip-toes and barely manages to grab it. He tries it and his mouth wrinkles. I laugh.

"It's not for everybody. Orange Marmalade is one of our most popular flavors." I repeat the action from before but this time with the aforementioned flavor. He tries it, his eyes widening with the spoon still in his mouth.

"S'good," he mumbles and a slight smile forms on my lips.

"Ron!" The door to the shop is flung open once more and two other red-haired men walk into the shop, one of them much older than the other but all three looking like carbon copies of one another.

I busy myself behind the counter as the older looking one chastises (presumably) his son. "You can't wander off like that! I said we'd get you ice cream after getting Bill's robes!"

My eyes widen the tiniest fraction and I look up to see Bill Weasley's eyes already on me. Sending me a half grin, he steps past his father and brother to come up to the counter. "Hey."

Somehow, in that 'hey,' I understand what my dormmates had been prattling on about all of last year; Bill Weasley was gorgeous and his charisma filled the room. He was smiling in a friendly way, but that didn't stop the threat of a blush appearing on my face. I try to appear unaffected and smile slightly back. "Hello. I'm assuming that's your brother?"

Bill looks back at his younger sibling affectionately. "One of many."

"I've heard," I say with a grin. "I can't imagine having all those siblings."

"How many do you have?" He asks.

"None." His eyes widen slightly and I suppress a laugh. "It's just me and my mum."

Thankfully, he decides against asking more about my family. "I feel like I've seen you around," he says, frowning as if trying to recall. "You're not in my year, are you?"

I'm not surprised he hasn't heard of me; I was a very keep-to-myself Hufflepuff. I didn't have many friends outside the basement and frankly I didn't mind. "I'm a sixth year, yes. You're a fellow Gryffindor, right, Weasley?"

His surprise at my knowledge of his surname was obvious and he rubs the back of his neck lightly. "This is awkward. I don't know your name." He steals glance at my name tag and his brows furrow. "Are you a . . . Fortescue? I wasn't aware Florean had kids in Hogwarts."