BLEED OUT ━━ george weasley

iv. light and dark

Time passed by at an agonisingly slow pace. By lunchtime, only two other customers had came and went, a woman on her lunch break and a man passing through. Their presence seemed to give Emery a moment of hope, a burning flame that quickly died out the longer her shop stayed empty. At 12pm, the height of the lunch rush, she switched off the radio. Not even the upbeat muggle tunes Emery loved so much could bring a smile to her face. The silence was deafening, so loud yet quiet.

"I might take my lunch break early," Keegan said, slow and careful. She watched Emery's face for a sign of emotion, sighing when there was none. "Is that okay?"

Emery just nodded, gesturing over to the door as she turned her back on Keegan, "Switch around the sign on your way out."

Keegan hesitated for a second before untying the strings of her apron and folding it up on the counter, "I won't be long."

The silence followed Keegan to the door. She looked back at Emery, who was still turned away from her, before switching the sign hanging on the glass door from open to closed. Then she stepped outside, the bell above the door sounding before the door slammed shut and silence came again.

Diagon Alley was dreary at best, a plain grey sky, shallow but endless. The clouds cast the buildings below in eerie shadows, the smashed in and hastily boarded up windows of shops sending a chill down Keegan's spine. She wasn't sure where she was going or even if she wanted to be outside, but she knew she couldn't stay a moment longer in the suffocating confines of an empty store usually busy and bursting with life. She couldn't look at Emery's carefully articulated expressions when she knew she was hiding disappointment beneath the lie.

It seemed George Weasley was thinking the same thing.

Keegan was just wandering past Weasley's Wizard Wheezes when the door swung open and out stepped one of the owners. He wore a tired and defeated expression on his face that slowly faded at the sight of Keegan Delaney lingering on his doorstep.

"Well, if it isn't Keegan Delaney," George grinned down at her. "What brings you out here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Keegan took a second to look him over. His red hair was frazzled, sticking up at odd angles. Instead of the purple suit he'd worn into the cafè a few times, he'd settled for a pair of blue muggle jeans and a plain black sweater. He seemed to be okay, breathing and smiling. It squashed a feeling in Keegan's chest that she chose not to linger on.

At the sight of his furrowed brows the longer her silence stretched on, Keegan hastily told him, "I'm on my lunch break, got a bit bored and decided to take a walk."

At that, George glanced out at the empty alley, his frown unwavering. The few people out in the street didn't look like they wanted to be there. Anywhere but there. "Why don't you come inside? I can finally show you around like I promised."

He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he turned back to the door he'd just exited from and held it open for her. Muttering a soft 'thank you' Keegan stepped inside, a feeling of awe sparking in her chest at the sight she was met with. Before her stood several aisles stocked with a myriad of creations, shelves stretching sky high underneath a beamed ceiling. The walls were painted in happier colours to fight against the grey waiting outside, purple and orange standing out amongst the rainbow of brightness. There were posters tacked to the walls in places left bare showcasing everything Fred and George had in store for their customers. Keegan took a moment to take it all in, spinning around on her heels with wide eyes.

"Well?" George quirked a brow at Keegan as he leant against a nearby row of shelves. "What do you think?"

"This is amazing, George," she gushed, her voice unusually breathy. "I can see why this place is a hit."

George shifted uncomfortably, and Keegan was made acutely aware of the fact that no one else was in the store. Next to the door was a flashing orange sign showcasing the word 'open' in bold capital letters, but it seemed as if the joke shop was also taking a hit from the impending darkness.

"It's usually busier than this," he muttered bashfully.

Keegan gave her best reassuring smile, "The cafè's having a slow day too. I think everyone is."

"I was gonna head over to see you soon," he told her, feeling as if he had to justify his absence that morning. "But we wanted to see if things would pick up."

"Don't worry about it," she shrugged.

Their eyes met for an instant before she wandered down one of the aisles, gaze raking across the colourful packaging of the products. From their infamous Fainting Fancies and Puking Pastilles to love potions and canary creams, they had everything Keegan Delaney could possibly think of and more. She stopped at one item in particular, throwing her head back in a laugh as she turned to face George again. He'd followed her down the aisle and was grinning with pride at her laughter.

"I think this is my favourite creation of yours," she declared, reaching for one of the boxes and holding it up for him to see.

In her hands was a leather crate with the words "Portable Swamp" stamped across the front in gold. For a moment, Keegan was back at Hogwarts. In the distance, she could hear Umbridge's outraged cries as she stomped about the school, trying in vain to fix the mess that Fred and George had created in the wake of Dumbledore's disappearing act. They'd done their absolute best to make Umbridge's life hell and it gave Keegan absolute joy to wake up each morning and pass the portable swamp on her way to the Great Hall. The sight of a frustrated Dolores Umbridge could brighten anyone's day.

"Ah, the Portable Swamp," George sighed with happiness. "One of my favourite's too." There was a pause, different but comfortable. "You can take one if you want."

"Oh, I don't have any money-"

"Don't worry about it," he insisted. "I can't make my detention buddy pay, can I?"

"Thanks," Keegan muttered, a tiny smile quirking at her lips. "Don't know what I'm gonna do with a Portable Swamp, but I appreciate it."

"Hey, at least you'll be prepared if you run into Umbridge again," he chuckled.

At the mention of Umbridge, Keegan's expression faltered. Suddenly, she was sitting in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom again. At the front of the room stood Umbridge, the wicked woman repeating the same haunting words over and over again.

Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident.

Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident.

Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident.

"Hey, are you okay?"

With a blink of her eyes, Keegan was back in the joke shop. George had moved closer to her, his hand resting on her shoulder and shaking her out of her reverie. He had a worried glint in his eyes, his smile long gone.

Feeling a bit faint, Keegan nodded slowly, "Fine." She hesitated for a second, stomach tumbling uneasily. "You wouldn't happen to have any food, would you?"

George watched her for a second before releasing her shoulder, his cheeky grin back in place, "Sure. Now it's nowhere near as good as yours, but how does a grilled cheese sound?"

Keegan chuckled weakly, casting one last glance around the shop before she followed after George, who was chattering away with ease. Any thought of Umbridge, of Cedric, was long gone.