It's Better If You Do

Bellamy, hearing a loud ‘blech’-ing beside the back room of the store, turned around and was only half surprised to see George grimacing to himself as he walked away. It wasn’t two seconds later that a very flustered looking Rose and Fred stepped out from behind the curtain. Typical on both accounts, she thought spitefully with a roll of her eyes as she continued on straightening the already tidy products. She had to admit, the store did look remarkably better since she had cleaned it, but she knew it’d only be a matter of time before it’d get dirty again.

Stifling a yawn behind her hand as she carefully walked around displays, she felt that today would an unreasonably long one and that she’d have an even longer wait until she could try to get a decent night’s sleep again. She’d not try and nap during the day because she didn’t quite trust anyone else not to go through her belongings again. Bellamy noticed the door to the shop was suddenly opened, the bells ringing merrily as a group of parents and children flocked into the store.

“Here we go,” she murmured to herself as Fred and George greeted them all, sounding quite cheerful for nine in the morning. It was only a matter of time before they started setting of fireworks and the children, and a few of the adults, found themselves testing the Skiving Snackboxes. Soon enough, nosebleeds started spouting like fountains and people’s heads disappeared into cauldrons, making the worst sorts of noises. Bellamy, knowing that sort of stuff made her unreasonably queasy, stuck to the second floor of the shop, with the Punching Telescopes and fake wands. She could only hope that the children could at least keep the products out of their noses.

It wasn’t twenty minutes after the shop had opened that she had a splitting headache from all the loud bangs from the fireworks, the screams of delight from the children, and the flashing bright lights. However, she persevered through the headache, trying to prove to Rose, but more importantly to herself, that she wouldn’t let these two gingers livelihoods get to her. No, Bellamy Lefebvre was stronger and more stubborn than to let a little headache get to her. So, with new resolve, Bellamy swore to herself that she’d not complain once throughout the entirety of the day, at least not to the Weasleys.

“Excuse me, miss,” she heard a soft voice behind her as she cleaned up a bit of Bruise-Remover Paste with a few swishes of her wand. A silly child had felt the need to cover his face in the goopy, yellow substance, but the majority of it had gotten on the floor. She turned from her work and saw a medium-height, lanky sort of man behind her, wearing a set of robes in the most curious shade of blue that contrasted greatly with his sandy blonde hair. He had a sort of quizzical brow and murky green eyes that seemed to be greatly troubled. “Do you work here?” He asked, continuing in that same soft voice.

“Indeed, I do,” she said with a nod as she turned to pick up the tube of paste and place it back onto the shelf.

“Could you help me?” He asked timidly, giving her a small smile. She nodded again, forcing a smile to him in return. “I’m looking for a gift, for my girlfriend’s birthday. She loves this place, though I have absolutely no idea what she’d like or find use of.” Bellamy hummed lightly, pocketing her wand, and continued to stare at the man.

“Well…I doubt you’d want to make her ill, so the Skiving Snackboxes are out of the question,” she thought out loud. An idea suddenly struck her and her eyes lit up at the brilliance of it. “Do you know if she has any miniature puffskeins?” The man suddenly smiled widely.

“Yes, she’s wanted one for ages, but hasn’t even been able to catch them before they’re all sold out,” he said. “And I checked for those first, but they’re all sold out.”

“Well…we’re breeding them right now and I’m not sure if they’ll be ready in time for her birthday, but I could hold one in the color of her choice, if you wanted me to,” she said with a slight shrug and a smile.

“That’d be fantastic. She loves the color purple, so if you could hold one for me, I’d be ever grateful,” he said .

“Your girl won’t need to wait, sir,” a voice said suddenly behind Bellamy, causing her to jump a bit. George was standing on the landing, glancing between the man and Bellamy. “We’ve just finished breeding a few of them. Purple, was it?” The man nodded, grinning between the two of them.

“How much are they?” The man asked, producing a few golden galleons from his pocket, along silver sickles and copper knuts.

“One galleon for the pygmy puff and we’ll include a cage for five knuts,” George cut in, before Bellamy had a chance to answer. He took no notice of her glare, nor the angry pink color that painted the tops of her cheeks.

“I’ll take the pygmy puff and the cage,” the man said, handing the galleon and knuts over to George, who quickly started off toward the backroom. The man turned to Bellamy with a thankful smile.

“Thank you for your help, miss,” he said genuinely. She managed a small smile, despite the annoyance she felt at George. She was more than capable of making sales, but he seemed to not believe that she could. She would have to prove him wrong one of these days.

“It was no problem, sir,” she said in the sweetest voice she could conjure up before walking over to the Shield Hats and straightening them up as best she could with a gaggle of children surrounding her and trying them on, then tossing them to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw George handing the man the cage with a rather small, purple pygmy puff within it. She frowned a bit before being knocked away from the Shield Hats from a rather rowdy group of children. Bellamy pulled a rather childish face at them before walking away.

George, who saw Bellamy making her way down the staircase, quickly caught up with her and fell in step with her.

“I’m sorry about hopping into your sale back there, Bellamy,” he said, causing her to look up at him and give a short sort of hum in response. “I just overheard you and knew that he was desperate for a sale. I hope in didn’t make you angry.” Bellamy stopped suddenly and looked up at George before giving a heavy sigh and shrugging a bit.

“I suppose I had no right to get so sour with you,” she said, smiling slightly. “A sale is a sale, no matter who makes it.” Bellamy gave him a nod before wandering back off into the store. George watched her for a while, with no hint of a smile in his expression.

“I’m happy you made a sale, brother,” Fred said, suddenly coming up behind George and clasping a hand on his shoulder, ‘but you need to get your jealousy in check before it ends up scaring her away.” George looked over at Fred frantically and shook his head.

“Who said I was jealous?” He asked, with a forced laugh tacked onto the end. Fred merely stared at him with a crooked grin, yet disbelief in his eyes. “I was not jealous of whoever was talking to Bellamy. He already had a girlfriend and I was merely making a sale,” he said in a matter-of-fact kind of voice. Fred let out a laugh and shook his head at his twin.

“Sure, you were,” he said in a low voice. George merely glowered and crossed his arms over his chest grumpily.

“George Weasley does not get jealous,” he grumbled with a dark look to his brother. Fred let out another laugh just to spite George and shook his head again.

“Sure, you don’t,” was all he said before walking off to show some children a few of their fireworks.