Three Hallows, Two Weasleys and One Broken Girl

Chapter 28: Ninety Three, Diagon Alley

They landed in Diagon alley around 11 pm and after reluctantly sending away her thestral (named Kathy), Delphi followed the boys down the darkened street to a large shop front, bright orange and glowing faintly in the moon light.

Fred whispered something to the door, that sounded distinctly like 'babbling bumbling band of baboons' before the door clicked open.
"Love the paint job, the street was way too rectangular before." She complemented, eyeing the storefront.
George grinned as he led her inside, Fred lighting up the store floor for her to see.

The shelves were mostly empty, but Delphi didn't need the few visions she had of the place to see its potential.
"The first visitor to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. I'm making history."
Fred grinned at her, her awed reaction clearly meant a lot to the pair as they started discussing the place at great length. How they'd snuck out of school to meet with an agent, and been secretly working on it over the last year. They had stock lists, and a hiring list already.
"It's going to bring this old alley to life." Said George grinning.
Fred hummed, eyeing her. "You were right though, back then. We just had to keep doing what we loved and the money came our way."
George snorted as they headed up the stairs, "that's way too vague, you can't claim that's a proper prediction."
Delphi took the bait, with a sly smile, "You're right, Harry's generosity is hard to predict. Only that kid could give up 10,000 galleons to you two nutters."

"Your nutters though." Murmured George grinning.
She flushed, suddenly aware of how quiet it was and how alone they were.
"Didn't see this coming huh." Teased Fred, moving closer to her, though his fidgeting hands betrayed his caution.
"I never see my own future. It's the one blank..." she murmured against his lips, her own smiling, "then again, I'm learning to like the surprises."
Fred's hand rose, finger tips brushing her neck before his hand cupped her cheek and he closed the distance again, the tingling warmth of his touch feeling perfect to her. Delphi's eyes fluttered closed as she leaned back against the balustrade, his body suffusing her own with warmth that chased away the chill of their flight.

It only felt like seconds but must have been longer, before George spoke up, his tone playful, "come on brother mine! Supposed to be sharing aren't we?"
Delphi looked away then, the statement bringing sudden doubts to mind.
She put a little distance between them and turned to gaze out at the lower floor of the shop as she tried to keep up with her racing mind.
"Delph?" They asked together.
"Will it work?" She asked, suddenly quiet, "the three of us...people tend to stick to pairs for a reason.." (please remember this is set in the ninties, no polyamory was canonical and opinions of characters do not necessarily reflect those of the author, merci)

"Well..."
The way they trailed off brought a chill to her bones as she remembered why this had been such a terrible thing in the first place. The very idea that they were planning their future with her...with the fact one of them would not survive the war in mind... made her feel sick.
"Dobby?" She called softly.
The elf was with her in a moment, accompanied by the quiet pop, that came with elf apparaition.
"Missus fortune calls Dobby?" He asked, smiling cheerily, looking so much healthier and happier than the first time they'd met. "You is far from the castle miss."
"I had to leave a little early." She said quietly, "I was wondering if you'd do me a favour?"
"Anything miss! As long as it doesn't get the great master Harry Potter in trouble I'll do anything miss!"
She smiled softly, "The Weasley twins and I, well our exit was unplanned, so we've left our trunks at the castle. Could you get them to us please? And Aggi? I have a feeling Umbridge might have him."
"Of course missus fortune!" He beamed and vanished with a another pop.

"How do you know him so well? Isn't he the one who tried to kill Harry?" Asked Fred, the topic change as subtle as an purple buffalo playing a kazoo, but appreciated.
"He has great fashion taste," she answered absently, still leaning over the balustrade and not looking at them. "Loved his socks. We got talking when I saw him in a particularly nice green pair with lemons on them."
George chuckled, though they both knew her well enough to know that when she went into full out Lovegood mode she wasn't in a good place.