Won't You Stay? (Adrian Pucey)

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A little (11k+) Valentine's day present for my beloved fawns ~

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With the academic year approaching once more, the shop was abuzz with parents and students hovering around and waiting to be seen. There were so many people packed into the small robe shop that it felt like we were all sardines, crammed into a tin. The air, heavy with humidity was making my hair frizz but that was the least of my problems.

In one of the small appointment rooms in the back of the shop, I surveyed the soon to be first-year who stood on the pedestal, looking into the mirror whilst an anxious mother hovered over my shoulder and assessed my every move as if they had been the one to undergo years of training this job required. But, I didn't let it phase me, not when this mother was the same as most the mothers of soon to be first years that I tended to today. With the tape measure wrapped loosely around my neck like the most unfashionable scarf on the planet, I kneeled in front of the eleven-year-old who shuffled anxiously on his feet.

"Stop that," his mother commanded her son, watching me like a hawk as I crouched down in front of the pedestal and folded up the hem of the too long robes so it was no longer touching the floor. Removing a clothespin from the pincushion on my wrist, I fastened it into place and slowly made my way around, adjusting the hem as I went.

Standing at last, I took a few steps back and surveyed the kid once more. He didn't want to be here and it was obvious but his mother took that as a cue to come forward and to survey the robe.

"Is it a little wonky?" she asked critically and I held back an eye roll because it wasn't wonky. I'd been trained and worked here long enough to know that it was not wonky.

Still, I promised to check it again as I finally helped the kid off from his step. Relieved and thankful, he shrugged out of his robes, throwing them towards me, not knowing just how much work went into making the bloody thing. But, I held my tongue, looking back to the mother who paid no heed to her son as he tried to pull her out of the shop.

"So what needs to be done now?" she asked, eyes on me as I folded the robes meticulously and rested them onto the table in the corner. "It's been a while since I've had robes made up for Hogwarts."

"The final changes will be made in time for Hogwarts and it will be spelled to allow the transformation into his House regalia," I assured, leaning back against the table and absentmindedly reaching into my drawer and pulling out more clothespins that I added to the pincushion. "We can have a final fitting if you desire and we'll have time to make some last-minute changes. But I'm confident that this is the last change that we'll need to make."

"Good, good." Gathering her son, the older witch prepared to leave and I followed her to the door.

Holding it open and gesturing them through, I called out, "You can either pay a deposit now and pay the rest on the final fitting. Or you can pay them all in one go. The payment options can be discussed at the till."

"Thank you," the mother called out distractedly, having no choice but to listen to her son as he took her by the hand and pulled at her.

Returning once more to the small fitting room that I worked from, I settled back again behind it, tucking the chair inside. Reaching for the file on the next customer, I flicked through it and breathed out a tired sigh; this really was the worst timing. A bridal robe fitting was the last thing I needed amongst a schedule packed full of school robes fitting. But there was little I could do about it now.

There was a knock on the door that had me closing the file and tucking it safely away. "Miss Jareau?"

"Come in, come in," I said, pushing away from the table and approaching the rack in the corner where the robes I was working on today were stored. Retrieving the bridal robe, I pulled it out and held it in front of me and I turned, expecting to find the future bride.

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