AUGUST 10, 1998
BILLIE
SHE HAD FOUND SOMEONE FOR THE JOB. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of unemployed young witches and wizards looking for jobs after the war. Within days, she had signed contracts with Hannah Abbott and Padma Patil, both recent gruaduates of Hogwarts. They had all agreed to work over the course of a year. However, Billie would have to work over Christmas, something she should've seen coming.
She'd put the two on their second or third solo shift, trusting them with the shop until she came back. Mister Erret's office was next to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Thirty Galleons," Billie said with a tight smile, dropping a pouch on Erret's desk. It was the month's rent.
"Thank you, Holt," Mister Erret leaned forward, examining the amount. "You been havin' any trouble?"
"No," she replied. Yes, she thought. "Everything's fine," I hate my fucking job.
"Very well. Good day, Holt," Erret waved her off dismissively, and Billie left the managing office with a pep in her step.
A gaggle of schoolgirls brushed past her.
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes has self-inking quills!" one of them said excitedly as they rushed in the direction of the joke shop.
Self inking quills? Those did sound rather fascinating. They would make the progress of writing far faster. Billie wanted one.
She followed the girls up to the joke shop, narrowly avoiding a minature firecracker snapping near her ear as she drew closer. The girls from earlier were now distracted by a cloud of fairies fluttering around the entranceway. The double doors hung wide open, with crowds of people going out making way for the ones trying to get in. Billie blended in as she stepped—for the first time—into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
And she was immediately hooked. The first thing that she saw were firework, real fireworks popping against the ceiling. Billie only ever saw fireworks once a year at Christmas when the Muggles would pop them over the Thames. They were every color of the rainbow, and seemed to never stop exploding. A boy shouldered past her. He was running towards a giant platter of suspiciously shiny black dust. Animated quills and Piffskeins chased each other around, and a ghoul was groaning prices of sweets to a teen.
"Some of this stuff is quite neat," Billie murmured offhandedly, examining a box of Extendable Ears. Those sounded handy. Not useful per se, but nice to own. And the Pygmy Puffs really were adorable.
"Isn't it, darling?" An extremely tall man with bright orange eyeshadow said, wearing bright magenta robes and a name tag that said Doris. "Here, let me show you the Pygmy Puff cage so you can pick one out yourself,"
Billie followed the employee up a level of stairs to a large golden cage, filled with what seemed to be pom-poms, but were little adorable creatures with long, long fur on closer inspection. As Billie pressed her hands against the cage, one of the smallest Puffs noticed her, squeaked, then prompty fell of its perch on a stick, tumbled towards the edge of the cage, and sniffed her hand.
"Ooh, I like this one," Billie giggled. Perhaps Lion, her Kneazle, would like a tiny companion. The Puff was a beautiful coral color, hovering more towards pink than orange. And it looked up at her with loving, huge black eyes.
"They're very easy to take care of. Their excrete vanishes itself, and they will eat anything from leftovers to household insects," Doris chimed in.
"That's convenient," Billie murmured. The ice cream shop had been doing well lately, and there was a constant presence of spare change in her pockets.
"That one's a male. They typically live for about two years, although brushing their fur certainly makes that time longer. They're very social animals, so if you have any other pets that would be greatly beneficial and likewise lengthen their lifespan. A Galleon," Doris finished.
Billie palmed over the money, and Doris leviosa'ed the coral Pygmy Puff out of the cage and onto her waiting hand. The Puff squealed in delight, rubbing its long, shaggy fur into her palm and making Billie giggle.
"Have you got a name?" Doris asked.
Billie thought for a moment. "Bat. I'll call him Bat,"
Her heart did a weird little roll, as she felt the beginnings of a cry once again- her throat closed up.
"Cute name," Doris said apprehensively, looking at her as if something amiss.
"Yes. Could you tell me where the Self Inking Quills are?" Billie mumbled. Her mind was still focused on Bat the Pygmy Puff.
Batty's hair had always blurred the line between ginger and strawberry blonde. A coral shade would best describe it. A shade that was similar enough to the Puff's fur that if someone made a wig out of it and put it on, she would mistake it for her sister at first glance.
Oh, Batty. It was Billie's idea to name her Batty. She had decided to call her that the moment the could talk.
"Did you really have to name her such a big name?" Billie said, at four years old.
"Your name isn't small either, Wilhelmina," her mother replied, stroking her hair. "Elizabeth is a nice name for your sister. It sounds pretty when you say it aloud; Elizabeth Alayne Holt,"
"Fine," Billie said, wrinkling her nose at the use of her own full name. "Her name can be Elizabeth, but we'll call her Batty,"
Bat the Pygmy Puff let out a series of excited squeaks, than began running up her sleeve, settling itself on her shoulder. Billie reached up and patted it.
"Doris-" Billie began, before she looked around. No one was there.
She looked up. To her left was the platform that led to stairs that went down, and to her right was more boxes of Skiving Snackboxes. At the end of the corridor was a shadowy staircase that went up. It must've led to some sort of room up there.
Someone moved upstairs- Billie caught a flash of a magenta robe.
"Hey- Doris?" she called curiously, walking to the end of the corridor. She walked up the steps as she heard shuffling.
The room wasn't exposed to natural light. There was an open door at the end of the second corridor, and the air smelled like nasally sweet candies.
"Is there someone there?" Billie called, and her curiosity got the better of her, as she pushed open the door.
A red headed man in extremely rumpled magenta robes lay splayed out on the couch. There was a mirror across him, but his face was turned towards the ceiling, as he appeared to be breathing heavily. He was also wearing what looked like an untied blindfold.
"Um, are you alright?" Billie asked hesitantly.
The man raised his untidy ginger head, lifted a corner of his blindfold, and a hazel eye squinted at her. "Hello, love. Could you be a dear and close that mirror?"
Billie's brows drew together, confused, but she headed opposite the bed, where a pair of gigantic black velvet curtains hung on each side of a small wall mirror. She drew them closed.
"Thanks," the man's voice was weak, as he lifted the blindfold off his face, he sat up very slowly. "Oh- you've got St. Peter,"
"Huh?"
"St. Peter," He said again, fully sitting up now. He pointed to Bat the Pygmy Puff.
It seemed the magenta robes were the only thing he was wearing. His straight red hair looked like pieces of hay that had been mangled about, and he had the worst case of dark circles that Billie had ever seen.
"Oh- the Puff," she said. "I renamed him Bat. After Batty, my sister; she died in the Battle of Hogwarts,"
He seemed to flinch at the words Battle of Hogwarts, wiping his hand across his face. The light hit him, and Billie was taken aback by the deep, dark hole that was on the side of his face.
"Oh, god- I'm sorry about your ear," she said in horror.
"'S alright," he said. "Just a little weasel hole,"
"Right..."
"So," he said, looking at her tiredly. "Who're you?"
"Billie Holt,"
"Nice. I'm George Weasley," he said with the smallest of grins. "So, Bat's finally getting a home. He's been here for months,"
"That's sad," Billie stroked the Puff, who crooned at her touch.
"I'm sorry about your sister," he mumbled, looking at the ground.
"I'm sorry too," Billie said. It had been months since the Battle, and Billie was no longer bursting into tears at any moment, but times remained when all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sob. "She was only a year younger than me, so we were really close. She was practically my twin,"
"She sounds- nice," Something she said must've hit him really hard, because he visibly winced, slouching as he muttered out the words. There was a pause, before-
"I'm a twin," he said. And Billie remembered instantly. The Gryffindor Twins. "I have- had- a brother. His name's Fred,"
He looked to the ground, and for a moment, he just looked so sad, in his messy robes that showed the outlines of his ribs. Billie wondered if she grieved Batty like that during the first few weeks. She probably did.
"I remember you two," Billie said, a smile coming across her face at the memory as she scooted onto the bed next to him. "The fireworks and the swamp? Umbridge?"
"Umbitch, you mean?" he said, as if the words tumbled out before he stopped himself. He let out a short, startled laugh, and clapped one hand to his mouth, shocked at the sound that came out of his lips.
Billie giggled, oblivious. "Y'know, after you left, people my year were running around the halls, hailing you like kings. Batty even snuck a Niffler into her office,"
"Really?" George said, the corners of his lips beginning to turn up. "Merlin, I wish I'd seen that,"
"It was great," Billie laughed. "Umbridge tried to grab it and it leaped at her gold locket instead,"
George let out the rattly laugh again, and Billie smiled.
"So. Are you enjoying your shopping so far?"
"Yeah. I was gonna ask Doris to show me the Self-Inking Quills, but I dunno where they went,"
George hummed something, before placing both hands on his knees. "Well, come on, then. I'll show you,"
"You'll show me?" Billie said doubtfully, looking at George's haggard state.
"'Course. Now come on, love," he said, and heaved himself up, stumbling a bit before standing. Billie stood as well, confused.
He led her to a different shelf with sky-high stacks of quill boxes.
"Nine Sickles," he said promptly, and Billie handed him the change, placing a box in her electric blue clutch.
"This place is really neat. You should be proud of what you two built," she smiled gently. George winced a little, but he replied as charmingly as ever.
"Thanks, love. You should stop by some more, we've got a lot of things you might like, and I might give you a little discount," one of his brows did the faintest wiggle.
Billie gaped for a second, then the two of them laughed, George, with his weak chuckle and Billie with her much louder one.
"Perhaps not the second thing you said. But I'll stop by. I own Florean Fortescue's now, actually," she said.
"Oh. I passed by the other day, you're doing quite well,"
"And so are you,"
"Well," George said, rubbing his tired eyes. "I'll be off now. Enjoy your Wheezes, Billie,"
He gave her one of her faint smiles, and walked with great effort back up the stairs. Billie smiled at his back pitifully, as her heart hurt for all of those lost during the times of war.
I'll miss you forever. And she gave her Pygmy Puff a scratch and left the joke shop.