It's Better If You Do
Douze.
When Bellamy and Fred stepped into the small takeaway café, the smell of boiling hot grease, oil, and fried foods met Bellamy’s nose. At first, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of it, glancing up at Fred with a hesitant look. He merely laughed a bit at her expression, shaking his head a bit. The café was small, yet there was a lengthy line they would have to wait in before they could order. Small booths lined the walls of the café, yet eight or so wrought iron tables lined the store front; all of them were taken and Bellamy doubted any of the people seated there would be getting up to leave. Loud banging sounds and shouted orders resonated from the kitchen and Bellamy immediately recognized them to be speaking in thick Cockney slang.
“Trust me, Bellamy,” he leaned down to her and said, over the sound of the loud café, “this place is the best in all of London, but their fish and chips are what everyone comes for.” Bellamy glanced around and noticed that the witches and wizards sitting at the booths and tables were all eating the fish and chips. Surely, she thought, it must not taste repulsive if so many people are eating it, and plenty of people at that. She saw some of the previous customers of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and their children in line ahead of them, toting their pygmy puffskeins and cooing over just how cute they were. Despite herself, there was one thing that never ceased to bring her what little happiness she could manage, and it was creatures and animals. Like her sister, she had a penchant and adoration of cute, furry fauna. She also had a rather talented green thumb, but she figured with how little space she had to live in, her love of Herbology would be pushed aside.
“Do you and your brother have any preferences for food?” Bellamy asked as she crossed her arms over her chest, stepping forward as they moved further up in the line. There were still quite a ways from the front of the line, and it had Bellamy wondering if they were going to make it back to the shop before the “lunchtime lull” was over.
“Anything British really,” he said with a shrug, Bellamy shot him a look but nodded anyways. He then thought that maybe, since she was French, she only knew how to cook French food. Quickly, he added, “George rather liked bouillabaisse when they served it during the Triwizard Tournament…” His voice died off when he noticed the look of utter disgust on her face. “What?” Bellamy shook her head and gave a short hum of disapproval.
“I detest bouillabaisse,” she spat vehemently, “anything with all the parts of a fish in it, including the brain and eyeballs, is barbaric and revolting.” Fred gave a hearty laugh at the girl, who had more lengthy words in her vocabulary than a thesaurus, and shook his head a bit.
“That’s exactly what I told George. All he said was, ‘Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, mate.’,” he gave a hard grimace and shook his head. “I’d rather not eat fish eyeballs. Or anything that’ll look at me while I’m trying to eat it.” Bellamy gave him the smallest bit of a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it was a start. Fred, in turn, grinned even wider than he already was.
“I’m rather good at cooking Italian food…and British food. I suppose tonight I’ll fix…” She let her voice die of as she gave a small humorless laugh. “It’s a bit early to be thinking about supper, especially when I’m in line for lunch, but I find it’s always nice when you have a well thought out meal plan in your head.” Fred glanced sidelong at the girl and gave a chuckle.
“We haven‘t had a home cooked meal since we last at our mum‘s,” he said, as they moved forward in the line once more, “so I think we’d be happy with just about anything that you’ll be able to make.” Bellamy’s expression grew thoughtful as she bit her bottom lip. It took a while for her to speak again and they moved up in the line once more before she spoke again.
“I’ll fix…” She sighed heavily and her brow furrowed. “What is it called, I had it when I was little…” Fred stared at her, watching as she talked through figuring out what she was trying to say. “Bangers and mash!” She exclaimed suddenly, causing a wizard in front of them with a rather bulbous nose to turn and look down at her with an expression like someone was holding rotten fish under his nose. Bellamy noticed the man’s look at her and glared up at him. Fred had to admit, for someone so small, her glares held much venom in them. The wizard quickly turned away from them and Bellamy continued to glare at his back for a moment before turning back to Fred. “How do bangers and mash sound?” She asked softly.
“It sounds delightful,” he said with a smile, “but you’ll have to go visit the market down the street. I’m afraid we haven’t got any substantial food in the flat.” Bellamy merely shrugged and waved him off.
“No matter. It’ll be something for me to do and keep out of the line of getting punched in the eye again,” she added, rubbing her right eye afterwards and wincing a bit. It was a bit tender to the touch, but she was certain the bruise was completely gone by now. Fred glanced over to her as they moved forward yet again.
“George is sorry about that too, you know,” he said quietly and Bellamy pursed her lips together, but didn’t say anything. She looked away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. An bit of color flushed the apples of her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Fred sighed heavily, knowing he probably shouldn’t have brought up George agains so soon. He glanced down to his watch and saw that they hadn’t much time left to eat lunch before the store would fill again. He then looked up and judged by the length of the line that it would be at least a twenty minute wait just to get his order in; twenty minutes they didn’t have. “This is going to make people very angry, but just wait here,” he said and quickly left Bellamy’s side.
The short girl, despite the fact she was wearing towering heels, could not see where Fred had gone. She stood on the toes of her shoes as much as she could, and still could not see over the taller witches and wizards in front of her. Letting out a short sound of discontent, she leaned on either side of the line of wizards and could see Fred talking to an elderly woman behind the counter. She nodded once then disappeared in the back. Fred continued to stand there, despite the rude comments that were being directed to him from the people waiting in line. Bellamy couldn’t fault him though, she knew they had taken long enough and needed to get back to the shop. The elderly witch returned with a brown paper bag in hand, quickly handing it to Fred with a wide grin. He handed her a few sickles from his pocket then nodded, turned and walked back to Bellamy.
“Alright, then, we’re all set to go back to the shop,” he said, lifting up the brown paper bag in triumph, and they began to make their way out of the café. “Shame we can’t sit and eat here. I rather like chatting with you.” He held the door open for Bellamy and she gave him a hesitant look before leaving the café.
“Why?” She asked him once they were walking down the alley, back toward the colorful shop. Fred looked over at her for a moment, noticing she was staring up at him with intrigue in her eyes.
“Well…I’m your employer. I should at least get to know my employees a bit,” he said with an indifferent shrug. He couldn’t flat out tell her that he was trying to prove he was a decent enough guy to have a chance with her sister. Bellamy stared at him for a while longer, her expression cool and calculating before she looked ahead.
“Ah, Fred, there you are!” A chipper voice resounded from beside them, cutting easily through the crowd of people. Both Fred and Bellamy stopped and turned in search of the voice, but Bellamy easily spotted the redheaded twin and her blonde sister making their way toward them. “And you’ve got Bellamy and lunch, even better,” George said as he and Rose stopped just shy of Fred and Bellamy. Rose was staring at her sister, wanting to make sure she was okay but knowing Bellamy wouldn’t want her to cause a fuss, at least not in the middle of Diagon Alley and certainly not in front of Fred or George. Bellamy was staring hard at George, with a look so icy that Fred was certain could have frozen George to the spot. George, however, wasn’t even looking at Bellamy, but at anything except her. He still fell an insurmountable guilt weighing on him for going through his things and he was unsure how well he could hide the fact that he knew about Bellamy’s past from his eyes.
In an attempt to break up the awkward tension between Bellamy and his brother, Fred tentatively cleared his throat, glancing between the two of them. “Uh…let’s just go back to the shop and eat. The food's not going to get any warmer and the afternoon rush should be hitting soon.” Bellamy finally looked away, shooting a look to Fred before beginning to walk toward the shop, the three following slowly behind her.
“Trust me, Bellamy,” he leaned down to her and said, over the sound of the loud café, “this place is the best in all of London, but their fish and chips are what everyone comes for.” Bellamy glanced around and noticed that the witches and wizards sitting at the booths and tables were all eating the fish and chips. Surely, she thought, it must not taste repulsive if so many people are eating it, and plenty of people at that. She saw some of the previous customers of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and their children in line ahead of them, toting their pygmy puffskeins and cooing over just how cute they were. Despite herself, there was one thing that never ceased to bring her what little happiness she could manage, and it was creatures and animals. Like her sister, she had a penchant and adoration of cute, furry fauna. She also had a rather talented green thumb, but she figured with how little space she had to live in, her love of Herbology would be pushed aside.
“Do you and your brother have any preferences for food?” Bellamy asked as she crossed her arms over her chest, stepping forward as they moved further up in the line. There were still quite a ways from the front of the line, and it had Bellamy wondering if they were going to make it back to the shop before the “lunchtime lull” was over.
“Anything British really,” he said with a shrug, Bellamy shot him a look but nodded anyways. He then thought that maybe, since she was French, she only knew how to cook French food. Quickly, he added, “George rather liked bouillabaisse when they served it during the Triwizard Tournament…” His voice died off when he noticed the look of utter disgust on her face. “What?” Bellamy shook her head and gave a short hum of disapproval.
“I detest bouillabaisse,” she spat vehemently, “anything with all the parts of a fish in it, including the brain and eyeballs, is barbaric and revolting.” Fred gave a hearty laugh at the girl, who had more lengthy words in her vocabulary than a thesaurus, and shook his head a bit.
“That’s exactly what I told George. All he said was, ‘Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, mate.’,” he gave a hard grimace and shook his head. “I’d rather not eat fish eyeballs. Or anything that’ll look at me while I’m trying to eat it.” Bellamy gave him the smallest bit of a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it was a start. Fred, in turn, grinned even wider than he already was.
“I’m rather good at cooking Italian food…and British food. I suppose tonight I’ll fix…” She let her voice die of as she gave a small humorless laugh. “It’s a bit early to be thinking about supper, especially when I’m in line for lunch, but I find it’s always nice when you have a well thought out meal plan in your head.” Fred glanced sidelong at the girl and gave a chuckle.
“We haven‘t had a home cooked meal since we last at our mum‘s,” he said, as they moved forward in the line once more, “so I think we’d be happy with just about anything that you’ll be able to make.” Bellamy’s expression grew thoughtful as she bit her bottom lip. It took a while for her to speak again and they moved up in the line once more before she spoke again.
“I’ll fix…” She sighed heavily and her brow furrowed. “What is it called, I had it when I was little…” Fred stared at her, watching as she talked through figuring out what she was trying to say. “Bangers and mash!” She exclaimed suddenly, causing a wizard in front of them with a rather bulbous nose to turn and look down at her with an expression like someone was holding rotten fish under his nose. Bellamy noticed the man’s look at her and glared up at him. Fred had to admit, for someone so small, her glares held much venom in them. The wizard quickly turned away from them and Bellamy continued to glare at his back for a moment before turning back to Fred. “How do bangers and mash sound?” She asked softly.
“It sounds delightful,” he said with a smile, “but you’ll have to go visit the market down the street. I’m afraid we haven’t got any substantial food in the flat.” Bellamy merely shrugged and waved him off.
“No matter. It’ll be something for me to do and keep out of the line of getting punched in the eye again,” she added, rubbing her right eye afterwards and wincing a bit. It was a bit tender to the touch, but she was certain the bruise was completely gone by now. Fred glanced over to her as they moved forward yet again.
“George is sorry about that too, you know,” he said quietly and Bellamy pursed her lips together, but didn’t say anything. She looked away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. An bit of color flushed the apples of her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Fred sighed heavily, knowing he probably shouldn’t have brought up George agains so soon. He glanced down to his watch and saw that they hadn’t much time left to eat lunch before the store would fill again. He then looked up and judged by the length of the line that it would be at least a twenty minute wait just to get his order in; twenty minutes they didn’t have. “This is going to make people very angry, but just wait here,” he said and quickly left Bellamy’s side.
The short girl, despite the fact she was wearing towering heels, could not see where Fred had gone. She stood on the toes of her shoes as much as she could, and still could not see over the taller witches and wizards in front of her. Letting out a short sound of discontent, she leaned on either side of the line of wizards and could see Fred talking to an elderly woman behind the counter. She nodded once then disappeared in the back. Fred continued to stand there, despite the rude comments that were being directed to him from the people waiting in line. Bellamy couldn’t fault him though, she knew they had taken long enough and needed to get back to the shop. The elderly witch returned with a brown paper bag in hand, quickly handing it to Fred with a wide grin. He handed her a few sickles from his pocket then nodded, turned and walked back to Bellamy.
“Alright, then, we’re all set to go back to the shop,” he said, lifting up the brown paper bag in triumph, and they began to make their way out of the café. “Shame we can’t sit and eat here. I rather like chatting with you.” He held the door open for Bellamy and she gave him a hesitant look before leaving the café.
“Why?” She asked him once they were walking down the alley, back toward the colorful shop. Fred looked over at her for a moment, noticing she was staring up at him with intrigue in her eyes.
“Well…I’m your employer. I should at least get to know my employees a bit,” he said with an indifferent shrug. He couldn’t flat out tell her that he was trying to prove he was a decent enough guy to have a chance with her sister. Bellamy stared at him for a while longer, her expression cool and calculating before she looked ahead.
“Ah, Fred, there you are!” A chipper voice resounded from beside them, cutting easily through the crowd of people. Both Fred and Bellamy stopped and turned in search of the voice, but Bellamy easily spotted the redheaded twin and her blonde sister making their way toward them. “And you’ve got Bellamy and lunch, even better,” George said as he and Rose stopped just shy of Fred and Bellamy. Rose was staring at her sister, wanting to make sure she was okay but knowing Bellamy wouldn’t want her to cause a fuss, at least not in the middle of Diagon Alley and certainly not in front of Fred or George. Bellamy was staring hard at George, with a look so icy that Fred was certain could have frozen George to the spot. George, however, wasn’t even looking at Bellamy, but at anything except her. He still fell an insurmountable guilt weighing on him for going through his things and he was unsure how well he could hide the fact that he knew about Bellamy’s past from his eyes.
In an attempt to break up the awkward tension between Bellamy and his brother, Fred tentatively cleared his throat, glancing between the two of them. “Uh…let’s just go back to the shop and eat. The food's not going to get any warmer and the afternoon rush should be hitting soon.” Bellamy finally looked away, shooting a look to Fred before beginning to walk toward the shop, the three following slowly behind her.