It's Better If You Do
Dix.
Fred quickly made his way to the large collection of hats and plucked one from it without even paying much attention to what it was. He let out a sigh and climbed down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible as to listen in to what he could of George and Rose’s conversation. He was quite cross with his brother, but he’d get over it soon enough. He could never stay too angry with him, not when he was basically the only person he knew in Diagon Alley.
“Who’s Julian?” He heard George ask Rose. There was a long pause and Fred thought that Rose wasn’t going to answer until he heard her draw in a deep breath of air.
“Look…if I tell you, you absolutely, must not let Bellamy know that I did,” Rose said softly. George let out a small noise, as if he were going to reply, but Rose cut him off. “Do not insinuate that you know. Do not mention his name. And whatever you do, don’t try to make it any better. She doesn’t want pity.” There was a pause again and Fred leaned in even closer, fearing he might miss something. Perhaps, he thought, her sister’s sadness was the reason for hers and he would do anything to make anyone happy.
“Julian was my sister’s…fiancé,” she said in a hushed voice. “She loved him with all her heart and we all thought he did too. They saw each other on and off while they were in school, but it only got serious once they graduated. She went to Beauxbatons and he was all the way in Durmstrang, so they mainly communicated by owl before then. He was a lot like…a lot like…you and your brother, in personality anyways. He was carefree, charming, and had a knack for causing a ruckus.” Fred smiled despite himself, leaning up against the wall as he continued to listen. “I’m sure since you went through her things, you saw the picture of him. Yes…that was Julian in the picture. I’m prone to believe that when they were together, Bellamy was the happiest she had ever been.”
“She looked really happy,” George interrupted, “she practically radiated happiness. What happened to change that?” Rose hummed slightly under her breath before continuing.
“She used to not be so…mean and…some would say heartless, but I know she still has one. She just…chooses who she loves very carefully now, and it’s mainly just her family. Well, back to the story, so Julian proposed and they were swept into preparations for a spring wedding on the rocky shores Marseilles. I helped her with planning it and preparing for it. It was going to be a small wedding, but a beautiful one. However, about a month before the wedding, Julian sent her an elaborate letter, the bastard,” she added on with a particular amount of venom, “saying that he had found someone else, called off the wedding, then had the audacity to ask her to send the ring back with her reply. It had been his grandmother’s ring and he wished to give it to this new girl.” Fred leaned forward, placing the hat on his head and peeked through the small crack between the doorframe and the curtain. Rose was smiling wryly and George looked as enraptured as Fred was.
“Bellamy, as spiteful as she ever was, threw the ring into the ocean and dared not send a reply to him. She was absolutely heartbroken, but she felt as thought she could not send what she needed to say to him in a letter. I heard how much hatred, envy, and venom the separation had instilled in Bellamy, and knew that she would never be the same carefree, spontaneous, and open-hearted sister that I grew up with. She no longer had fun, she no longer laughed at things she used to think were funny, and she most certainly warded off any boys that tried to show her any sort of affection.”
The hardest thing I had to do was to leave her to go to school, because there was no telling what she would do in the depression that overwhelmed her at times. She searched for jobs for a year in France, something to keep her mind off of Julian, but no one would hire such a rude, cold person like her. So…we came here in an attempt at a fresh start,” Rose’s voice died off and she shook her head biting her bottom lip, “but it seems Bellamy is just as stubborn as I expected her to be and won’t let go of the past.” Rose suddenly looked as sad as Fred had ever seen her and George reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“She’ll come around eventually,” he said softly, giving her a small smile, “I promise.” Rose managed a watery smile for George and gave him a small nod.
“I hope so,” she murmured and Fred immediately set off for the front door of the shop. He pulled it open, the bells above the door jingling cheerfully as they signified his departure. He rarely heard the bells because of how loud the store normally was. He glanced both ways down Diagon Alley, trying to imagine places a distraught Bellamy would go to, to get away from everyone. He glanced from store to store, weighing his options. From what he had inferred from his brief acquaintance with Bellamy, he set off toward Flourish & Blotts, completely invisible to the witches and wizards that passed by him.
He waited by the door for a particularly rotund wizard to leave the building and slipped through the door just before in closed. Fred glanced around the stacked books that looked to be teetering close to falling over but never did. The store was quiet and had a particularly musty, old parchment smell, mixed in with the faint smell of ink. Suddenly, the sharp sound of someone sniffling cut through the silence and Fred turned to the noise and took slow, quiet steps toward the section of the store that was surrounded on all four sides by bookshelves, spare a small opening for someone to get in and out. He peered around the bookshelves and saw Bellamy sitting amongst a sea of books on a small chintz chair. Her head was bowed and her shoulders were shaking slightly.
Fred pulled the hat off and held it at his side. He drew in a deep breath, thinking through what he would say to disarm her. Gripping the hat tightly, which turned out to be a frilly pink bonnet fit for a baby, he cleared his throat. “Bellamy,” he said softly and the girl spun quickly, glaring up at the Weasley for a few moments. Her eyes slowly wandered over his features before the glare weakened a bit and she sniffled a bit, wiping away the tears that speckled her cheeks.
“What do you want, Fred?” She asked in a rough voice, turning toward him.
“George is really upset with himself, Bellamy,” Fred said softly, crouching down beside the chair and looking up at her earnestly.
“Good,” she said in an emotionless voice as she stared down at him with her tear-swollen eyes, “he should be after what he did.” Fred nodded in a agreement.
“He should, I can’t deny that,” he said, “what he did was wrong and he’s willing to try and more than make it up to you.” Bellamy stared at him with a unwavering look as she crossed her arms over her chest. Fred sighed heavily and bit his bottom lip, thinking through what he was going to say. “Look…I can promise you now, Bellamy, that neither my brother nor myself will go through your things again. It was very out of place and it won’t happen again.” Bellamy looked away from him for a moment, her jaw set as she stared off at a couple of books. Finally, she conceded with a nod and stood, Fred copying her actions. He managed a small smile for her, one that she didn’t return. “Let’s go and pick up a quick lunch for everyone before the afternoon rush hits,” Fred said, continuing to smile despite how sour Bellamy looked, “I know this smashing fish and chips place down the road a ways.”
“I haven’t had fish and chips in forever,” Bellamy said softly, shaking her head a bit as she looked up at Fred.
“All the more reason for us to go and get some,” he said excitedly and he could have sworn the petite French girl gave him the smallest bit of a smile before nodding. Fred then turned and held his arm out for her to take. She glanced between his arm and his eyes before slowly shaking her head. “Worth a try,” he merely said, his chipper attitude not wavering, “follow me then.” With that, he lead her out of Flourish and Blotts and down Diagon Alley to the tiny café that served the best fish and chips in the whole of London, in Fred’s opinion.
“Who’s Julian?” He heard George ask Rose. There was a long pause and Fred thought that Rose wasn’t going to answer until he heard her draw in a deep breath of air.
“Look…if I tell you, you absolutely, must not let Bellamy know that I did,” Rose said softly. George let out a small noise, as if he were going to reply, but Rose cut him off. “Do not insinuate that you know. Do not mention his name. And whatever you do, don’t try to make it any better. She doesn’t want pity.” There was a pause again and Fred leaned in even closer, fearing he might miss something. Perhaps, he thought, her sister’s sadness was the reason for hers and he would do anything to make anyone happy.
“Julian was my sister’s…fiancé,” she said in a hushed voice. “She loved him with all her heart and we all thought he did too. They saw each other on and off while they were in school, but it only got serious once they graduated. She went to Beauxbatons and he was all the way in Durmstrang, so they mainly communicated by owl before then. He was a lot like…a lot like…you and your brother, in personality anyways. He was carefree, charming, and had a knack for causing a ruckus.” Fred smiled despite himself, leaning up against the wall as he continued to listen. “I’m sure since you went through her things, you saw the picture of him. Yes…that was Julian in the picture. I’m prone to believe that when they were together, Bellamy was the happiest she had ever been.”
“She looked really happy,” George interrupted, “she practically radiated happiness. What happened to change that?” Rose hummed slightly under her breath before continuing.
“She used to not be so…mean and…some would say heartless, but I know she still has one. She just…chooses who she loves very carefully now, and it’s mainly just her family. Well, back to the story, so Julian proposed and they were swept into preparations for a spring wedding on the rocky shores Marseilles. I helped her with planning it and preparing for it. It was going to be a small wedding, but a beautiful one. However, about a month before the wedding, Julian sent her an elaborate letter, the bastard,” she added on with a particular amount of venom, “saying that he had found someone else, called off the wedding, then had the audacity to ask her to send the ring back with her reply. It had been his grandmother’s ring and he wished to give it to this new girl.” Fred leaned forward, placing the hat on his head and peeked through the small crack between the doorframe and the curtain. Rose was smiling wryly and George looked as enraptured as Fred was.
“Bellamy, as spiteful as she ever was, threw the ring into the ocean and dared not send a reply to him. She was absolutely heartbroken, but she felt as thought she could not send what she needed to say to him in a letter. I heard how much hatred, envy, and venom the separation had instilled in Bellamy, and knew that she would never be the same carefree, spontaneous, and open-hearted sister that I grew up with. She no longer had fun, she no longer laughed at things she used to think were funny, and she most certainly warded off any boys that tried to show her any sort of affection.”
The hardest thing I had to do was to leave her to go to school, because there was no telling what she would do in the depression that overwhelmed her at times. She searched for jobs for a year in France, something to keep her mind off of Julian, but no one would hire such a rude, cold person like her. So…we came here in an attempt at a fresh start,” Rose’s voice died off and she shook her head biting her bottom lip, “but it seems Bellamy is just as stubborn as I expected her to be and won’t let go of the past.” Rose suddenly looked as sad as Fred had ever seen her and George reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“She’ll come around eventually,” he said softly, giving her a small smile, “I promise.” Rose managed a watery smile for George and gave him a small nod.
“I hope so,” she murmured and Fred immediately set off for the front door of the shop. He pulled it open, the bells above the door jingling cheerfully as they signified his departure. He rarely heard the bells because of how loud the store normally was. He glanced both ways down Diagon Alley, trying to imagine places a distraught Bellamy would go to, to get away from everyone. He glanced from store to store, weighing his options. From what he had inferred from his brief acquaintance with Bellamy, he set off toward Flourish & Blotts, completely invisible to the witches and wizards that passed by him.
He waited by the door for a particularly rotund wizard to leave the building and slipped through the door just before in closed. Fred glanced around the stacked books that looked to be teetering close to falling over but never did. The store was quiet and had a particularly musty, old parchment smell, mixed in with the faint smell of ink. Suddenly, the sharp sound of someone sniffling cut through the silence and Fred turned to the noise and took slow, quiet steps toward the section of the store that was surrounded on all four sides by bookshelves, spare a small opening for someone to get in and out. He peered around the bookshelves and saw Bellamy sitting amongst a sea of books on a small chintz chair. Her head was bowed and her shoulders were shaking slightly.
Fred pulled the hat off and held it at his side. He drew in a deep breath, thinking through what he would say to disarm her. Gripping the hat tightly, which turned out to be a frilly pink bonnet fit for a baby, he cleared his throat. “Bellamy,” he said softly and the girl spun quickly, glaring up at the Weasley for a few moments. Her eyes slowly wandered over his features before the glare weakened a bit and she sniffled a bit, wiping away the tears that speckled her cheeks.
“What do you want, Fred?” She asked in a rough voice, turning toward him.
“George is really upset with himself, Bellamy,” Fred said softly, crouching down beside the chair and looking up at her earnestly.
“Good,” she said in an emotionless voice as she stared down at him with her tear-swollen eyes, “he should be after what he did.” Fred nodded in a agreement.
“He should, I can’t deny that,” he said, “what he did was wrong and he’s willing to try and more than make it up to you.” Bellamy stared at him with a unwavering look as she crossed her arms over her chest. Fred sighed heavily and bit his bottom lip, thinking through what he was going to say. “Look…I can promise you now, Bellamy, that neither my brother nor myself will go through your things again. It was very out of place and it won’t happen again.” Bellamy looked away from him for a moment, her jaw set as she stared off at a couple of books. Finally, she conceded with a nod and stood, Fred copying her actions. He managed a small smile for her, one that she didn’t return. “Let’s go and pick up a quick lunch for everyone before the afternoon rush hits,” Fred said, continuing to smile despite how sour Bellamy looked, “I know this smashing fish and chips place down the road a ways.”
“I haven’t had fish and chips in forever,” Bellamy said softly, shaking her head a bit as she looked up at Fred.
“All the more reason for us to go and get some,” he said excitedly and he could have sworn the petite French girl gave him the smallest bit of a smile before nodding. Fred then turned and held his arm out for her to take. She glanced between his arm and his eyes before slowly shaking her head. “Worth a try,” he merely said, his chipper attitude not wavering, “follow me then.” With that, he lead her out of Flourish and Blotts and down Diagon Alley to the tiny café that served the best fish and chips in the whole of London, in Fred’s opinion.