entanglements | d.m.

15.lightningstruck

October '98 | H E R

Devyn wipes her hands down her apron as she emerges from the storage room. "You're all set for the delivery tomorrow morning," she tells Travers.

A grunt of acknowledgement. "I would have been either way."

"A thank you is shorter." Loosening the tie around her waist, she hangs the apron on the wall-mounted hook. "Takes less effort."

"In your books maybe," he drawls, eyes fixed on a list. "You should step back a little, Wood. With all that N.E.W.T.s stuff—I don't want you to waste that time here."

"I need the money," she states, an edge to it.

It's not the first time her boss has mentioned that she should put her efforts elsewhere. Somewhere that'll give her a better opportunity than a small shop in a small village, and while Devyn does agree that the sixteen hours during the weekend not being poured into studying is painful, she'll want the money to get a head start once she graduates.

"For that wedding of yours?"

Devyn rolls her eyes. Ever since that first time the Marriage Law came to mention, Travers has been on it to make at least one teasing remark each shift or find out who the 'unfortunate lad' is.

"Sure," she drones dryly, "big, fat wedding. That's all I've ever dreamed about. That one special day."

His scoff tells her that he knows how full of shit she is. "I know I gained status with you for not firing you despite your attitude, but I dare you to invite me and see what will await you at your doorstep. I don't do people, little one."

She glares.

He cracks a laugh, like a motor being sprung to life. "Hey, you got that death stare on already. Isn't that what wives do, Spindle?" he asks the adjoining shop owner who is counting his days' income.

Spindle shudders, as though seeing his wife Peridot standing in place to glare at him. "It's always the socks laying around that bother her. Or when I have too much chocolate liqueur. Or my breathing."

Devyn chuckles, putting her jean jacket on before swinging her bookbag over her shoulder, a small Zonko's shopping bag dangling from her fingers.

Trevors shakes his head. "That's why I don't mess with all that."

"Didn't you say you wouldn't have minded being arranged a marriage." Devyn has her head bend to the side at him.

"Back then, maybe," he says gruffly. "Now I'm too much of a lone soul. I'd hate having to bring another person in my life."

"Even my mother?" she teases.

He scowls, saying fuck off without any words needed. "I could never deal with your pubescent ass on a daily basis."

"I'm a young woman now, old Grump."

His nose crinkles, as though disgusted by the idea. "Get out, Wood."

Gladly.

Although, as she is approaching the back door, Devyn remembers why she started stalling every end of her shift.

It surprises her with great delight that Malfoy is not waiting for her at the other side of that door. He is not here.

Did he forget me—

SHUT UP!

No. No, he did not.

As she turns the direction to the castle, Malfoy is stalking that way towards her.