Unofficial Portkey Archive

Ten (Interlude One)

"Hyperventilate"

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.

Note One: A big thanks to the_scribbler for being my awesomesauce beta/editor!

Note Two: It's pure coincidence that this was ready by Thursday, but here it is!

EDITED 06/13/2011: Date changes.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

13 July, 1991

Lindsay walked down the street towards Just Imagine with a little pip in her step, unable to keep the excited grin off of her face. She and Karen had finally finished reading Her Story: 1.1 the previous night after a little over a week of sneaking around the shop after it was closed. It nearly drove Lindsay mad at how slow they were reading but Karen refused to risk bringing the journals home with them. No matter how much Lindsay tried to persuade Karen it was only so they could read them for more than an hour or two at a time, she wouldn't budge. That led to little mini-arguments between the two girls as they tried to compromise on a set amount of time they should read for. None of that mattered now, though. All that mattered was that they were going to open the second journal after Lindsay finished closing the shop up that day.

Lindsay pushed the door to Just Imagine open and skipped in, the bell jingling merrily. Mrs. P was helping a customer so Lindsay merely waved at her and hurried to the break room, shrugging her jacket off and getting ready for the shift ahead of her. As much as she loved reading the journals, the downside to it all was that Lindsay now felt guilty whenever she was around her boss. Mrs. P had always been so trusting towards Lindsay and Karen and sneaking around when they weren't supposed to be in the shop made Lindsay feel like they were betraying her trust. The guilt got so bad sometimes that it almost made Lindsay want to stop reading altogether.

Almost, but not quite.

Exhaling loudly, she put her hair up into a high ponytail and glanced around the break room to make sure that there was no sign her or Karen had been there last night. Satisfied, she left to go back into the shop and went to clock in as Mrs. P walked back to the counter.

"Good afternoon," Mrs. P greeted. The customer she was helping thanked her and walked out of the shop.

"Hey Mrs. P," Lindsay smiled, forcing the guilt down. "How's it been so far?"

"On and off," Mrs. P shrugged. She picked up the clipboard that was on the counter and grabbed a pen from the little cup by the cash register.

"What's that?"

"This is a list of stock we'll be getting in soon," she replied. She sighed and gave a little shake of her head. "I hope that what I'm seeing is what I'll actually receive. I've been having trouble lately getting the right books."

"R-really?" Lindsay shifted uncomfortably. "What do you mean?"

"Sometimes I'll get boxes of books I've never heard of or sometimes the books I specifically requested don't show up," Mrs. P huffed, her eyes flashing with irritation. "I think I may change providers if it keeps up."

"I hope that it gets sorted out," Lindsay replied, leaning on the counter.

It was safe for Lindsay to assume that the box of journals probably showed up because of Just Imagine's provider mixing things up - that was the logical explanation. But even as Lindsay thought about that possibility, things didn't match up. Only one journal was in a box when she found it nearly two weeks ago and the others just appeared on the shelf when she turned away. Plus there was the fact that they couldn't open any of the journals except for the first one (Lindsay didn't even know if they'd be able to open 1.2). She sighed, rubbing her temples. It was way too much work trying to figure out how they had got there.

"Are you alright, dear?" Mrs. P asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, straightening up. "Just thinking. So, is there anything specific that you want me to do today?"

"Just help customers and fill the shelves," Mrs. P shrugged. She tapped the clipboard with her pen. "I'll be spending the day trying to figure out how to fix this mess."

"Yes ma'am!" Lindsay mock saluted and earned an amused grin from the older woman. Since there were no other customers in the store (the lunch rush had just passed before Lindsay arrived) she went into the storeroom and grabbed the trolley that was by the compactor. She heaved some boxes onto it, quickly glanced to make sure the journals were where they had hidden them (which they were), and pulled the trolley out into the shop and to the sci-fi section.

Lindsay got to work immediately, making sure that there were at least four copies of each series on the shelf before storing the rest of the books back into the box. She worked for about thirty minutes straight, her mind straying to the journals and wondering what would happen next. It had been a few years since she read the Philosopher's Stone and couldn't remember what all happened in between the Mirror of Erised and getting past Fluffy. She decided she would look at her own copy of the book to refresh her memory when another thought hit her - what if they weren't able to open Her Story: 1.2?

Lindsay glanced at Mrs. P, wondering if she should risk going into the storeroom and seeing if she could open the journal. Mrs. P hadn't moved from her spot since Lindsay began working, but instead of going over the paperwork that was clipped to the clipboard she was gazing straight ahead with a blank expression, her eyes slightly unfocused.

"Mrs. P?" Lindsay called but got no response. "Mrs. P?" she raised her voice slightly and again got no indication that the older woman had heard her. Frowning, Lindsay walked over to the counter and waved her hand in front of Mrs. P's face, calling her name multiple times. She was starting to get a little worried and finally snapped her fingers inches from Mrs. P's nose, "Mrs. P!"

Mrs. P gasped and gave a violent start, dropping the clipboard onto the counter and jumping back. She blinked furiously and looked at Lindsay with a confused expression. "What?"

"Don't do that," Lindsay breathed, relief washing over her. "I thought you had a stroke or something."

Mrs. P laughed and Lindsay frowned at how forced it sounded. "Sorry, dear," she apologized, picking up the clipboard. "I was off in my own little world."

"I could see that," Lindsay shook her head, snorting. She went back to her work station and quickly finished refilling that section, glancing at Mrs. P every now and then to make sure she was still working. "I'll be right back," she called to her and grabbed the trolley, pulling it into the storeroom.

Lindsay put the boxes back where they were supposed to go and hurried over to the corner where she and Karen had hidden the journals. She quickly pulled all of the boxes they had stacked on top of the one containing the journals off and opened it up. Shuffling through the box, she pulled out 1.2 and grasped the string. With a deep breath and a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure she was alone, Lindsay tugged on the string and her stomach gave a funny jolt as it unravelled. She swallowed thickly and shoved it back into the box, putting the other boxes on top of it.

Lindsay exhaled and grabbed more boxes to refill the shelves with, her mind reeling. She could distinctly remember trying to unravel 1.2 when her and Karen found the journals and remembered being unable to open it. Her heart fluttered madly and refused to think about what that could mean. It was ridiculous. Grabbing the trolley, she yanked it back out into the shop and over to the romance section.

"Hey Mrs. P," Lindsay said after refilling most of the section, "we're going to need more copies of Bedtime Playtime soon."

When she got no response, Lindsay looked over to see Mrs. P staring off into nothing again. This time, however, her eyes were wide and she looked pale and panicked. She quickly went over to her boss and gently shook her shoulder, calling her name. Mrs. P's reaction was just as violent as before and she whipped around to face Lindsay, "What?"

"Are you okay?" Lindsay asked, recoiling at Mrs. P's tone.

"Yes," she replied shortly, turning back to her clipboard. Lindsay felt panic spike through her when she saw tears start to form in Mrs. P's eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Mrs. P replied in the same snipped tone. She brought a shaky hand up to quickly wipe her eyes and put the clipboard down onto the counter. "I just need a moment."

Lindsay watched in shock as Mrs. P hurried around the counter and practically ran to the break room, completely confused of what had just happened. She wanted to go check on her but the bell jingled and a large group of teenagers entered the shop. Biting back a groan, Lindsay went over to go help them.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lindsay had to run the shop herself. Mrs. P didn't leave the break room for over an hour and, no matter how much Lindsay wanted to go check on her, it was clear that she wanted to be left alone. Lindsay felt useless as she sat behind the counter, anxiously tapping her fingernails against the countertop. All the sections had been refilled and the couple that was in the shop had declined Lindsay's offer to help them.

Finally, Mrs. P exited the break room, striding across the shop with her head held high. "Are you okay?" Lindsay asked immediately.

"I'm fine," she replied, giving a small smile. "I'm so sorry for leaving you alone, Lindsay."

"Don't even worry about it," Lindsay interrupted. "I just want to make sure that you're okay."

"I am," Mrs. P nodded.

"If you want, you can leave early," Lindsay suggested. It was now late in the day and the shop would be closing within the hour. Karen would be arriving soon too and Lindsay would just make her help close up the shop.

Mrs. P opened her mouth to decline but then stopped, frowning. She closed her mouth and nodded, "I think I might."

"Do you want me to call Mr. Potter?" Lindsay asked as Mrs. P clocked out. "I don't think you should be driving by yourself."

"I'm fine," Mrs. P reassured. She went to the break room and retrieved her purse and jacket. Lindsay watched as she got ready to leave and said goodbye as she exited the shop.

Karen arrived at the shop twenty minutes later, holding up a bag of Chinese take-away. "You can pay me back when we get to the next journal," she grinned, heading into the break room to put the food away. Lindsay barely registered what Karen had said, still worried over Mrs. P. She should have told Mrs. P to call the shop as soon as she made it home.

"What's wrong?" Karen asked, coming back out of the break room. Lindsay explained what all had happened with Mrs. P that day (including that she was able to open the second journal) as she began to clean up the shop.

"I've never seen Mrs. P act like that," Lindsay finished. She locked the door to the shop and began to close down the cash register. "It was kind of scary."

"I'm sure she's fine," Karen said, hopping up to sit on the counter. Her expression showed that she was worried too. "I work with her tomorrow afternoon so I'll keep an eye on her."

Lindsay smiled at her and Karen hopped down from the counter, going to the break room to get the food ready. She told Lindsay that she had brought real food in celebration of them starting the new journal. Lindsay greatly appreciated it, the two girls had been living off of chips and nutrition bars for the past week.

As Lindsay was finishing up with the cash register, Karen came running out of the break room and went to the storeroom. Lindsay raised an eyebrow when the other girl returned, holding the new journal above her head.

"We eat first," Lindsay said, laughing as she dimmed the lights. "I haven't had a break all day."

"How about you eat and I'll read?" Karen suggested, handing Lindsay a pair of chopsticks when they entered the break room. "I already ate while setting up."

"Pig." Lindsay snorted. She sat down and pulled the chopsticks apart as Karen opened up the journal.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

End Note: I feel guilty for this chapter being so short! I'm