Two - Dervish & Banges

~ + ~ SWEET MEMORIES ~ + ~

an original fanfiction by olivia

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Two

Derivsh & Banges

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"And helloooooo, folks! This is Toddy Tempkins on the Wizarding Wireless Network's Weather at Eight," the over cheery weatherman chirped from Patrick's battered old radio stationed by his bed. He himself was standing at his bathroom mirror, shaving 'the Muggle way', as Victoria called it. Really, he was just using a manual razor instead of a magic one, but he preferred this. It was just simpler to him.

"Now it's half eight, a little cloudy up in London. Today's a blustery one, especially for April, so button up!" Toddy continued. "But don't worry, it'll warm up tomorrow! In fact, your Three-Day Forecast is all sun sun sun! And the rest of the week is looking up too. We've really got a great week on our han—"

Patrick dismissed the annoyingly happy man with a flick of his wand, turning off the radio. He had to finished shaving quickly, no cuts, because he was running late for work. At this rate, he was going to be late. Very, very late. And that man was really beginning to get on his nerves.

He washed off his face one last time and quickly waved his wand at the razor and shaving cream. They cleaned themselves and soared up onto the high shelf where his bathroom things were kept. Then, he hurried out of the bathroom and back into his room.

He fished out his navy blue Dervish & Banges robes from his closet and changed as quickly as possible. After grabbing his golden name tag from his nightstand drawer, he rushed downstairs and out the door of his flat.

It wasn't ever safe to Apparate right outside his flat or even within it—this was a Wizarding part of London, but Muggles still occasionally roamed there. And one could see, or hear the CRACK that Disapparation produced. Patrick had a select spot he, and presumably other wizards and witches as well, always Apparated to work from.

He dashed down the street and into a stray alleyway, panting from the exertion. It was dark and lined with brick buildings, and lone puddles of murky water dotted the paved ground. There was a wall of brick at the dead end. There was a beat-up old red telephone booth standing, lonely, at the end of the alley. He quickly stepped inside, closed the door, and turned on the spot. He Disapparated.

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"Patrick," Elphan Perdock said in a clipped, articulate tone. "Patrick, Patrick, Patrick."

Patrick swallowed. Crap. I'm really in for it now. Elphan was infamous among the Dervish & Banges employees for being as strict as they come. Just a few months before, he'd proved his undying strictness to them all:

One morning, before work, a teenage cashier named Bob Grickens had slipped a piece of gum into his mouth. Later that morning, he was talking to a customer and showing them a set of handsome dress robes. But suddenly, the huge wad of chewing gum had dropped out of his mouth and stuck on the carpet. Red-faced, Bob had tried to redeem himself by brushing it off with a 'sorry' and had kept talking. But by then the customer was very disinterested, and it was too late. They left shortly after. And just minutes after Bob had finished scraping the now dirty gum wad off the blue carpeting, Elphonse had fired him. To this day, Patrick hadn't seen Bob ever again.

"Patrick," Elphonse said again, breaking the man from his reverie. "I know that you're one of our best employees, and you're a damn good vice manager. There's no one else I'd pick for the job. But honestly..."

Patrick held his breath and fought off an urge to squeeze his eyes shut. Here it comes. He's firing me, I just know it.

"...I'm going to let it slide just one time." Elphonse ran a hand through his thick, flaming-red hair, the same color as Victoria's. "But if you're late agian, your employment will be terminated here at Dervish & Banges. Understood?"

Patrick nodded vigorously. Oh, definitely. He couldn't believe his luck. As Elphonse turned away, a huge grin broke out on Patrick's face like a breaking egg. How had he escaped this one? Phew. At least it was over now.

Patrick began to walk over to the back storage room, where boxes of new materials were shipped every morning. He usually spent a few hours in here, sorting and boxing and unpacking and arranging things with Grace Shields. And as he approached, he saw her in there already, opening boxes with flicks of her wand.

"Hello, Patrick," she said cheerfully, waving her wand at a box in the corner. It sprang open to reveal a brand-new, shiny set of deep violet dress robes. She waved her wand again, and they sprang out of the box and arranged themselves on hangers that had been piled in a heap against one wall. She waved it a second time, and the hanging robes flew out the door neatly, in a line like obedient schoolchildren, towards the racks where they would hang themselves.

"Hey, Grace." Patrick took his own wand out of his pocket. He began unpacking as Grace was.

Grace asked as she opened a box of spotted ties, "Late?"

Patrick nodded. "Yeah. Elphonse let me off, though. 'Just this once', he said."

Grace shook her head in disapproval, bushy brown curls flying. "Patrick, you can't just be late as often as you want. I know you and Elphonse are friends, but that doesn't mean he won't fire you, because he will, you know."

Like Bob, Patrick thought.

"I mean, Elphonse is pretty strict..."

Grace kept going on and on, prattling about tardiness and punctuality and such, while Patrick did his best to tune her out and focus on unpacking boxes. Bossy, book-smart Grace was a good match for Elphonse—she balanced his somewhat airheaded, tiny bit arrogant at times nature.

Patrick began thinking about his own girlfriend and wondered what Victoria was doing at that moment. Probably saving a patient's life, he thought, smiling wryly to himself. Successful Victoria, always thinking of others....

Suddenly, a burning, stabbing pain in his forehead seared across his skull. He howled aloud, dropping to the ground. Grace gasped in shock, but Patrick barely noticed: he was in that much pain. His fingers traced the slightly raised birthmark he'd always had, as far as he knew. It was in the shape of a jagged lightning bolt.

The world above him began to go foggy.... He heard Grace scream Elphonse's name over and over, but then he was lost to a haze of his own unbearable pain.

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White lights. They were burning into his eyes. Patrick groaned softly. His head pounded, and his whole body ached from... from what? Fatigue? Pain? Exertion? What?

"Ssshhh... I think he's waking!"

He recognized that voice... Victoria! He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times. He was lying in a bed with the blankets drawn up over his chest. An IV dripped liquid into his arm. A white room encased him, with a large window overlooking a parking lot on one side and a few scratchy, rough-upholstered armchairs grouped on the other.

Then he realized where he was. He was in St. Mungo's.

Victoria, Elphonse, and Grace were huddled round his sickbed, all sporting expressions of weary relief. "Oh, Patrick!" Victoria burst out. "I was so worried!" She leaned in to hug him, and her warm embrace instantly made him feel tons better.

But now he was curious. He remembered walking into Dervish & Banges, but then what? He looked over to Grace. He remembered seeing her at Dervish & Banges. "What happened to me?" he asked.

She took a shaky breath, then told the story.

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A/n: Sorry, sorry, and sorry again for the dreadful cliffie. I have up to Chapter Four done so as soon as this chapter gets approved I'm submitting the next one.

Now, let me turn your attention to something else...that wonderful little review box! Scroll down... Ain't it a beaut??? ;]

xxOlivia