(no subject)
Title: Chase’s Diagon Experience
Author: kanedax
Pairing List Entry: #27: Fred Weasley - Harry Potter / Cordelia Chase - BtVS/Angel
Rating: PG-13 for mild language
Spoilers: Buffy Season 5, Angel Season 2
Notes: This pairing is tenuous at best. I wanted to make this as conceivable as possible, considering that I’m dealing with two universes where 1) Magic work differently, and 2) one is mentioned as pop culture in the other. In the end, this story is more about linking the Buffy and Potter universes coherently, and is also my last shot at writing a “End of Potter” storyline before TDH comes out in three weeks and blows it into the realm of Alternate Universe. But there is definite Cordy/Fred flirtation. I don’t own any characters in the Potter or Buffy universes. Those are Rowling’s and they are Whedon’s. I’m just poking them with sticks. Or wands. Or stakes. Who knows?
“He keeps staring at us,” the brunette whispered through the ever-expanding hole.
“That’s because you keep staring back,” the redhead replied as the two women stepped through the brick wall.
“Who couldn’t stare at that mug?”
“And you kept giggling all nervous-like,” the redhead continued, pushing the stick into her back pocket.
“Who wouldn’t be nervous in a place like that?”
“And you kept yelling, ‘Nothing to see here, just passing through like two normal non-suspicious people, please go about your business!’”
“I was trying to be nonchalant…”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t working.”
“Look, Willow, just because I haven’t been a Scooby for two years doesn’t mean I don’t know how to… handle…”
The brunette stopped in her tracks, for the first time seeing the area they had entered. A gruff-looking old man in a dark blue robe bumped into her from behind, but she barely noticed the man swearing at her as he passed by.
“Welcome to Diagon Alley, Cordelia,” Willow Rosenberg said, smiling softly.
“Wow…” Cordelia Chase breathed, her eyes trying to take everything in at once. Men and women walked around in garb just as bright and colorful as the man who had passed the pair. To their left was a store selling magic cauldrons, while across the street. Cordelia glanced briefly at this window before walking across to what appeared to be a pet shop.
“Neat, isn’t it?” Willow said, her smile brightening at the response of her friend.
“What’s that thing?” Cordelia asked, tapping her finger on the window as a small brown animal pressed its paws against the pane.
“It’s called a niffler,” Willow explained. “Watch the ring, though. I don’t think they can go through glass, but they like shinies.”
“Cute,” Cordelia said, moving away from the window. As she did, a couple walked by wearing shining purple robes with matching pointed hats.
“Well, the outfits are kinda tacky,” Cordelia snickered, “But this is possibly the coolest place I’ve ever seen. And considering last month I was queen of an alternate dimension populated by the ancestors of a green horned lounge singer, that’s saying quite a bit.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Willow said as the two walked down the street.
“You’ve been here before?” Cordelia asked.
“No, I haven’t been here specifically,” Willow replied. “I stopped into a wizarding colony outside San Francisco the summer before college, but nothing like Diagon. Giles told me all about it, though.”
“How many places are there like this?”
“Quite a few,” Willow explained. “There aren’t as many in America as there are in Europe, though. San Francisco’s the closest one to Sunnydale.”
“That’s kind of surprising,” said Cordelia. “There are witches and wizards all over Sunnydale and Los Angeles…”
“But no established communities like this,” Willow continued. “The Hellmouth breeds a lot of Dark Magic, so most normal wizards were scared off by the high numbers of vamps and demons before anything could be founded. Giles and some others try to keep the locals happy with the Magic Box and other stores like that, but most of the magic folks that show up are the Dark Arts types.”
“Like Giles’s buddy, Ethan?”
“And like Amy’s mom, yeah,” Willow said, stopping in the middle of an intersection to look around. “Where am I going?” she muttered to herself as three small children flew by, one girl chasing two young boys.
Cordelia stared after them as she realized that the boys weren’t touching the ground. “Willow, were those broomsticks?”
“Yeah, they use those around here,” Willow replied, distracted as she tried to get her bearings.
“Isn’t that a little, I don’t know, stereotypical?”
“They appreciate traditions,” said Willow. “We like to think we’re a little more progressive on the other side of the pond. Ah, okay, there it is.” She started toward a large marble building.
“But they were just kids,” Cordelia said, speeding up to keep pace with Willow. “You didn’t know magic till, what, junior year?”
“Natural born wizards and witches are taught early,” Willow explained. “There’s a school here called Hogwarts that takes kids in at age eleven, and they get seven years of training.”
“Huh,” Cordelia said as they approached the building’s front steps. “So you have to be taught this stuff? Then how do you know how to do so much magic if you’ve never been to one of the schools?”
Willow stopped in her tracks so suddenly that Cordelia nearly bowled into her. Willow spun on her, and the look of frustration in her eyes was so strong that Cordelia took a step backward. Willow grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from the crowd moving in and out of the gilded doors.
“I’ve already explained this to you, Cordelia,” Willow said under her breath. “I’m not a registered witch. I picked a few things up from Miss Calendar to start, so Giles didn’t think it was that big of a deal to even worry about getting my name filed with the Watchers or the Department.”
“Department?”
“Department of Magical Activity,” Willow muttered. “It’s a branch of the government that regulates witches and wizards in the U.S. The Watchers are connected to them, just like they’re connected to the Ministry of Magic here in England. The Initiative worked with them, as well, but I don’t think they were given the full story about what they were working with.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I asked around my covens after the Watchers interviewed us earlier this year,” Willow said. “One of them asked Tara and I what our Magical Proficiency Level was. So I started asking about some kind of regulations, codes of conduct, that kind of thing. I saw the guidelines for magical proficiency.”
“How’d you do?”
“Higher than even Giles would be comfortable with,” Willow said. “And I’m not ready to tell him, and I’m especially not ready to tell the government, so I’m still under the table. I’m surprised I was even able to get in here without a wand. Only registered wizards and witches can carry one.”
“Then what’s that?” Cordelia asked, pointing to Willow’s back pocket.
“A branch I snapped off the tree in front of the hotel this morning,” Willow said, patting the “wand.” “I channeled my energy through it in order to open the gateway.”
“Willow,” Cordelia said, forcing herself to stay calm. “When you asked me to come to London with you, I came because this is where Angel said he would be staying. I’m trying to avoid the illegal activity if I can help it.”
“I followed through on my end of the bargain,” Willow said darkly. “We tried finding Angel. He’s in Sri Lanka now. He doesn’t want to be found until he’s ready to deal with Buffy’s death. Now it’s time to follow through on your end.”
“Which is what again exactly?” Cordelia asked. “Playing your patsy?”
“If that’s what you want to call it,” Willow said. “I needed an excuse to get here. I’ve been planning something, and I wanted to make sure I have what I need before I tell the others.”
“Could you cut back on the vague a bit there, Will?” Cordelia snapped. “This has something to do with Buffy, doesn’t it?”
“Does it matter?” Willow said.
“It might.”
“Look, Cordelia,” Willow said, looking as though she was trying to keep from yelling, “I asked you specifically to come with me. Not Tara, not Xander, not Giles. Hell, not even Spike. Because I know, in reality, you don’t really care what I do.”
“I don’t care what you do,” Cordelia said quickly.
“Good…”
“But I care about Angel,” she continued. “And Angel cares… cared… whatever… about Buffy. I don’t want to see you do anything that’ll make her come out bad in the end, because I don’t want to see Angel hurt again.”
“I understand,” Willow said quietly.
“Besides, considering the fact that I’ve seen more than a few normal zombies in my time, I really don’t want to have to deal with an undead Slayer.”
“You won’t have to,” Willow said, pulling her backpack off and unzipping the front pocket. “The spell will work if I have the right items. And one of the items is supposed to be here in Knockturn Alley.”
“But didn’t you say we’re in Diagon Alley?”
“Knockturn’s over there,” Willow said, nodding quickly toward a darkened stretch of road before digging into her bag. “Time for you to get to work.”
“Jesus, Will, where’d you get all this money?” Cordelia asked as Willow pushed a large wad of bills into her hands.
“Don’t ask…”
“There must be over a thousand dollars here…”
“I said don’t ask.”
“Did I ever tell you I love you?” Cordelia said, putting on her winning smile.
“Go into Gringotts,” Willow said, pointing to the building. “Exchange that money for wizard money. Come back out here.”
Cordelia stared at Willow in disbelief. “That’s it.”
“Yeah.”
Cordelia sighed. “Boy, am I glad this isn’t a wasted trip.”
“Cordy,” Willow said, grabbing her arm. “Diagon’s filled with Aurors.”
“With what?”
“Never mind,” she continued, shaking her head. “I’ve cast enough spells to mask my magical presence from them. If they knew I was here, as powerful as I am, and unregistered, I’d be in big trouble. After Voldemort was killed, they’ve been on the lookout, making sure that no other Big Bads slip under their radar.”
“Voldemort…” Cordelia said, her brow furrowing. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Do you read?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll explain later,” Willow said.
“So what am I doing?”
“Their detection is strong out here, but it’s mind-bending in Gringotts,” Willow said, her breathing getting heavier and sweat starting to form on her forehead. “I’m running out of juice as is, I don’t have enough power to mask myself in there. I’d pass out before I even got through the front gate.
“If there’s one thing that the naturals have over someone like me, it takes a lot less energy to cast a spell. With a wand, their magical potential’s pretty much unlimited, since materials like unicorn hair or phoenix feathers augment it. One of these days I’ll get to that point by myself, but today ain’t it.”
“But I can get in?” Cordelia said, glancing nervously up the stairs.
“If you pretend your someone’s Muggle mom, you’ll be spiffy.”
“A mom?” Cordelia sniffed. “Jesus, Will, I’m only twenty!”
“Fine, fine, whatever. You’re someone’s Muggle aunt. Happy?”
“Much,” Cordelia said, turning toward Gringotts. “And what’s a Muggle?”
“Later,” Willow said, looking yearningly at a nearby wall. “Go. Get money. I need to sit down.”
“Twenty-three cases of Ton-Tongue Candy.”
“Twenty-three,” the man said into the mirror, as he scribbled on a clipboard in front of him. “Not bad, you started the month with fifty, right?”
“Something like that,” the mirror replied, shrugging. “I didn’t write it down.”
“Yeah, I didn’t either,” the man replied, running his hand through his flaming red hair. “You know, George, one of these days we should learn how to run a proper inventory.”
“Like that’s ever gonna happen,” George chuckled from the mirror. “How about Daydream Charms?”
“We’ve barely sold any here,” the man replied. “Maybe five boxes worth.”
“Get out of here,” George gasped. “We’ve barely got any left over here. They were selling like hotcakes the last time Hogwarts came down for Hogsmeade weekend. We’ve got maybe five boxes left.”
“Okay,” the man replied, making a note on his clipboard. “We could send over twenty for now. I’m not expecting a huge rush on them in the next few weeks, and Hogsmeade doesn’t get a big teen dream rush until the school year starts. Hey, Lee!” he called over his shoulder.
“Yeah, Fred?” a tall man with dreadlocks replied from the corner of the store.
“Could you bring twenty boxes of Daydream Charms out of the back and put them with the rest of the pile?”
Lee sighed and shook his head. “You know, Fred, when I said I’d take the day off work to come help you guys with inventory, I wasn’t expecting to be lugging boxes all day while you stood around doing nothing.”
“Sorry, Jordan,” said Fred. “I’ll give you a long passionate kiss when I buy you that beer later, right?”
“Sod off,” Lee said, smiling despite himself. “Angelina’s gonna kill me when I come home three sheets to the wind as is. Dunno how she’d act if I had Weasley on my breath.”
“Well, I’ll give her a long passionate kiss, too,” Fred said. “That way she won’t notice.”
“Make it two,” George said, raising his hand.
Lee gave the mirror the finger, but was laughing as he went into the back room.
“Sexy boy,” Fred said, turning back to the mirror.
“Dreadlocks are a bit of a turnoff,” George replied from Hogsmeade. “How are the Skiving Snackboxes doing?”
“We got enough,” Fred said. “I was thinking of a new addition, though. Something along the lines of warts or measles or something.”
George closed his eyes in thought. “I dunno,” he said. “It’s a good idea, but it’s not anything that can be used in the middle of class, you know? You can faint or get a nosebleed without any previous symptoms, but measles?”
“We could make them leak, or something,” Fred suggested. “Squirting pustules? It might not be covert, but it’ll definitely get you out of class. Maybe talk to Longbottom, get a sample from his mimbletonia crop.”
George shrugged. “Probably wouldn’t hurt to experiment. I’ll head up to Hogwarts tomorrow afternoon and try to talk him into it.”
“Oh, geez!” Fred yelled, slapping his forehead. “Why don’t you head up there today. I forgot, Ginny stopped by earlier. Said Mum’s having a big dinner tonight, the whole family thing. Loony and Professor Planthead are invited, too, you could let him know.”
“Yeah, I think I can manage that,” George said, looking at his watch. “This shouldn’t last too much longer, and Verity’s been giving me evil looks all day. I guess she’s got a date tonight. Harry’s coming, right?”
“Ginny didn’t know for sure,” Fred said, motioning to the large orange display in the front of the store. “She brought in a stack of stuff for the auction, but Harry’s too busy to have brought it himself. I guess he’s got another interview with Jo this afternoon, and Ginny says that they usually go later than planned, especially now that she’s starting to write about ‘95 and ‘96.”
“Oh, yeah, the Triwizard stuff just came out, I forgot about that,” George said. “Did Ginny say anything about… um…”
“Hermione?” Fred finished, knowing what George was driving at in the way that only twins do. “Yeah, she Flooed her this morning. Hermione says she can’t come, though. Too busy getting Durmstrang cleaned up.”
“Yeah, sure,” George said quietly. Fred knew that George was thinking the same thing he was. Hermione Granger was the new Transfiguration professor at the Durmstrang Magical Institute. She and Viktor Krum, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor there, were doing their best to change the image of the school from one embracing the Dark Arts to one of magical equality and harmony.
But there were other reasons she couldn’t show her face at the Burrow, hadn’t shown her face since the final battle two years ago. The same reasons why she turned down the Transfiguration post at Hogwarts after Minerva McGonagall became the new Headmistress…
Fred and George stood in awkward silence, avoiding each other’s eyes across the enchanted mirror, when a blood-curdling scream sliced its way through the joke shop.
“Oh, what is this?” Fred grumbled, turning away from the mirror. “We’re closed!”
“Didn’t you lock it?” George asked.
“Yeah, I locked it…”
“Even after Lee showed up?”
Fred opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again when he realized he didn’t have a good answer. Instead, he turned back to the front of the store.
“Oy! We’re closed!” he repeated, taking a few steps around the shelf to get a clear view of the front door and the new visitor. He took a deep breath, preparing to continue his verbal onslaught, but it caught in his throat when he saw, despite the eyes bugged wide with terror, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.
“What the hell was that?” the woman, fashionably dressed like a Muggle, with blond streaks in her otherwise dark hair, gasped.
“On second thought,” Fred mumbled, “we’re wide open and available for business.”
“Someone screamed,” the woman said, reaching into her purse. “Who screamed?”
“Who is it?” Fred heard George asking from behind him.
“Brother dear,” he said dreamily. “We have a customer.”
“What are you talking about?” George replied, his upper torso bouncing up and down in the mirror as he tried to get a look over Fred’s shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘a customer’? Get rid of them, we have inventory to get done, I want to get sloshed.”
George continued to protest, but was muffled as Fred pulled a sharp green curtain over the mirror and turned on his Weasley charm.
“Hello, hello,” Fred purred, adjusting the collar of his green dragon skin jacket.
“Is everything okay?” the woman asked.
“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” Fred replied.
“Cuz someone screamed.”
“That was just our door bell,” Fred explained.
“You have a screaming doorbell?”
Fred shrugged. “Doesn’t everybody?”
“And the voices in back, the people you were just talking to…?”
“You know,” Fred said, “for someone who just walked into my store, you’re the one asking a lot of questions.”
“It’s my job,” the woman said.
“Nice stake, by the way,” Fred said, pointing to the woman’s hand. She looked down, only now realizing what she had pulled from her purse. The woman gasped.
“This?” she said, chuckling nervously, quickly shoving it back into her purse. “It’s not a… okay, it is a stake. But it’s a… it’s common self-defense for… Americans.”
“Ah,” Fred said, liking this woman more and more. “A Muggle thing?”
“Muggle?” the woman asked, a look of confusion crossing her face, followed close behind by realization. “Oh, Muggle, right! The thing that Willow called… yeah, sure, a Muggle thing, why not?”
“Well, you won’t need a stake around here,” Fred explained. “No vampires in Diagon. They like to congregate in Knockturn Alley, so you should be fine.”
The woman’s already nervous face dropped even more. “Congregate in…” she muttered, looking over her shoulder out the door. “Oh, shit.”
“Is everything alright?” Fred asked, stepping towards her in concern.
“Yeah, I think so,” she said, turning back and stepping back as he stepped forward. “Just my first time here, and my friend who brought me is… um… busy, and Jesus Christ that’s a lot of orange.”
Fred blinked, wondering if he blacked out for a minute, because he was sure no one could change subjects, let alone change moods, that quickly. “Excuse me?”
“The display,” the woman said, pointing behind him. “No man should be caught dead wearing that much orange.” She quickly looked up at his hair. “No offense.”
Fred turned around to see Harry’s picture staring down at them, waving from behind a large pile of robes, pom-poms, and other licensed merchandise.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, chuckling. “That’s my brother-in-law.” Fred gave her a knowing wink, but was slightly taken aback by her blank stare.
“I haven’t introduced myself, have I?” he asked, pressing on and sticking out his hand. “My name’s Fred Weasley.”
“Cordelia Chase,” she said, her voice sounding like she was missing the punch line of a joke.
“Fred… Fred Weasley?” he repeated, more slowly this time. “As in Ginny Weasley?”
“Okay?”
“The Ginny Weasley that married Harry Potter?”
“Ummm, good for her?” Cordelia said, her eyebrow raised in confusion.
“The Harry Potter?”
Cordelia shook her head. “Nope, sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Star Seeker for the Chudley Cannons? The one who defeated Voldemort?”
“I’m a Muggle, remember?” said Cordelia. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, you should still have heard of Harry Potter,” Fred said, flabbergasted. “Jo’s books are huge…”
“Is it in ancient Druidic texts?”
“Ummm, no…”
“Is it in Cosmo?”
“What’s Cosmo?”
“Is there a movie?”
“Ummm, next year, I guess…”
“Then, nope, haven’t heard of him.”
Fred shook his head. “Not used to talking to people who have never heard of Harry Potter…”
Cordelia shrugged. “I’m unique. So what’s with the gear, anyway? Isn’t this a joke shop?”
“Yeah, well, this is a special promotion, I guess you could say,” Fred said airily. “See, there’s a big benefit coming up next week, where we’re auctioning off a bunch of autographed Cannons merchandise, with all proceeds benefiting the reconstruction of Hogwarts.”
“That’s the school, right?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Yeah, my friend filled me in,” Cordelia replied. “She didn’t say anything about a reconstruction, though.”
“Oh,” Fred said, a little quieter than before. “Well, there was a big battle there a few years back. A few battles, actually. My bro… umm… some people died in the second fight, and the school got pretty beaten up in the process.”
“Your brother?” Cordelia asked, instantly regretting that lack of a control switch between her brain and her mouth.
“Yeah,” Fred said softly. “My brother, Ron. Anyway, the battle happened, and Harry defeated Voldemort. After that, he and my sister got married, and they both decided they wanted to play Quidditch for a living. And there was only really one team that they wanted to play for… Ron’s favorite team.”
“The orange one,” Cordelia asked, motioning to the display. She had no idea what Quidditch was, but figured it was a sport and left it at that. She had enough problems understanding football when she was a cheerleader at Sunnydale, and didn’t really feel like trying to ask about a new one.
“Chudley, yeah,” Fred nodded. “Anyway, Ginny’s just on the reserve team, but Harry… Harry’s got a huge contract, he’s the best Seeker in the league, and made the Cannons respectable again.”
“So he’s rolling in the money,” Cordelia said. “Good for him.”
“Well, he could be, but he’s not,” Fred replied. “He signed the big contract, of course. He’d play for free, but he’s shrewd, that kid. He knew that he was better at Quidditch than anything else, and he knew that teams would be beating his door down to sign him up. Quality Seeker plus Defeater of the Dark Lord equals cash cow for any club. But he signed with the Cannons for less than he’d get anywhere else, and wrote into his contract that almost all of the money go to reconstruction.”
“Wow,” Cordelia said, her eyebrows raised. “Hell of a thing to do…”
“Got the idea from Malfoy, he says,” Fred said, too lost in the story to notice another look of confusion on Cordelia’s face. “Draco made an Unbreakable Vow with Harry before he died that all of the Malfoy fortune would go toward Hogwarts. So Malfoy gave his money to the school, Harry gave his money to the school. And he talked Jo into doing the same with the money she’s making from his seven book biography.”
“The books you were telling me about earlier?”
“Yeah, Jo felt that Muggles should know Harry’s story. But the Ministry has rules and regulations regarding magic influence in the Muggle world. So she found a loophole by publishing it in the Muggle world and calling it fiction.”
“Huh…” Cordelia said, shaking her head. “Okay, I think I’ve had my fill of magic talk for the day. My brain can only take in so much information, I guess. It was nice to meet you, but I gotta go…”
“Hey, wait!” Fred yelled as Cordelia began to walk to the door. “Don’t you wanna… I don’t know… buy anything?” He grabbed an orange Chudley scarf. “All proceeds from Cannons sales go toward reconstruction.”
Cordelia paused, looking at the scarf. Well, she thought. I suppose that scarf might go with that jacket I bought last week…
“Do you take Visa?”
Fred paused. “Wha?”
“Credit card?”
“Is that the plastic thing they use instead of money?” Fred said, his face blank.
“Yeah,” Cordelia said, shrugging. “I don’t have any English money, or whatever you guys use here. I forgot to convert my cash when I was at the bank, I only got Willow’s.”
“Oh…”
“Did you know they have goblins there?”
“You don’t say…” Fred said, deflating.
“So unless you take credit card…”
“How about this?” Fred said quickly, seizing an opportunity. “I’ll buy the scarf for you out of my own pocket. My treat.”
“Oh!” Cordelia said, brightening. “Thanks!”
“Only let me send you an owl sometime.”
Cordelia’s mouth hung open. “Whuh?”
“An owl…” Fred repeated.
“Why would I want an owl?”
“Call it a friendly gesture,” Fred explained. “Maybe we could talk again sometime.”
“Ummm…” Cordelia said, suddenly very confused again. “No… no, I think I’m good… thanks…”
“Are you sure?”
EEEEEEEEEEEK!
Cordelia jumped as the scream pierced through their conversation.
“There you are!” Willow said from behind her as she walked through the door.
“Hey! Willow!” Cordelia said as the moved closer to Willow and farther away from Fred.
“Dead end,” Willow muttered. “The Urn’s not at Borgin & Burkes.”
“Aw, that sucks,” Cordelia said, casting a sideways glance at Fred. “Say, let’s get out of here, huh?”
“Hey, cool!” Willow said, brightening as she picked up a pin from the display. “Tara would love this, she’s a Chudley fan.”
“Huh, yeah, that’s great,” Cordelia said quickly.
“How much?” Willow asked Fred.
“Oh, um, one galleon,” Fred said, his heart obviously not in the sale anymore.
“Good deal,” Willow said, pulling the coin from her bag and handing it to him. “You want anything, Cordy?”
“Ummm…” Cordelia said, obviously anxious to leave. She saw Fred hold up the scarf, his eyebrows raised hopefully, and she sighed. “Yeah, I’ll take the scarf.”
“Three Galleons,” Fred said, and Willow plunked the coins into his hand.
“Are you Fred or George?” Willow asked, smiling at the look of surprised on Fred’s face.
“Um, I’m Fred…”
“Nice to meetcha,” Willow said, shaking his hand. “Tonks told me all about you two, I figured I’d stop into the shop while I was in town. Cordy beat me to it.”
“You know Tonks?” Fred asked.
“Yeah,” Willow said. “She’s the one who told me to try Borgins in the first place. Ah, well.”
“Huh…” Fred said, still trying to calculate this new information.
“Yeah, that’s great, Will, really,” Cordelia said, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the door. “Say, let’s get going, huh?”
“Sure, sure,” Willow said. “Nice to meet you, Fred!”
As Fred waved to their, he heard Cordelia mutter to Willow, “Is it some weird magic custom to give owls instead of flowers?” before the door closed behind them, leaving Fred standing alone in the shop.
“So,” Lee said from behind, making Fred jump. “Struck out, huh?”
“You were listening the whole time?” Fred asked.
“Figured I’d leave you to it,” Lee replied. “Too bad.”
“Yeah,” Fred sighed as he picked up the clipboard. “I probably wasn’t her type, anyway.”
“You think?” Lee asked.
“She’s probably into the dark and brooding loner types, or something.” Fred said, “All black robes and spiky hair.” He sighed again, put the four galleons in the cash register, and turned back to their work.