Roxy woke to find that the flat was empty. The clock chimed—ten times, and then there was only silence once more, except for the sound of her own tired breathing. She heard no clattering in the kitchen or footsteps down the hall, both noises that could be found filling the flat at any point in the day, their home was so small and cramped. It had truly never been meant for four people, and even now, two people filled up the space more than was comfortable.

"Mum?" she called out, but as expected, there was no response. Roxy was home alone, but perhaps her mother had left a message somewhere, indicated where she might have gone. Mum liked to do that, in case Roxy needed something from her.

Creeping out of bed, Roxy bent down for her slippers, overtaken by a sudden, deep chill. London was drowning in winter, with more and more snow falling every day and the temperature never rising enough to be able to melt what had fallen the day before. Snow was piling up so high that even the children of Diagon Alley were tired of the endless snowballs fights and snow angels and snow people and any of the other dozen things that usually made the winter time enjoyable.

She headed into the kitchen; taped to the fridge was a note from her mum, reading:

Leanne's having her twins. Went to help Katie and the midwife. Lee and Patrick will probably be coming over to the flat in a few hours while we wait for the babies—you know how boys and newborns are.

X0—

Mum

"Oh," Roxy said, not really sure what else to say. Her god-sister had been pregnant for what felt like forever, but now that the due date was actually here and the babies were actually coming, it was strange to imagine Leanne being a mum. And her husband—Colin Creevey, the eldest of the Creevey children—was now going to be a dad. It had only been two or three years ago that he would tug on Roxy's curls and sneak her a glass of Firewhiskey at parties when no one was paying attention, and now, he was about to have two little children to raise. It just wouldn't process internally, no matter how many ways she tried to picture it. She could not see her god-sister and Colin Creevey as parents.

Roxy shook her head, at a loss for words as she stumbled back towards her bedroom, looking for clean clothes to wear after she took a shower. If her god-father and god-brother were going to be coming over, she wanted to pick the place up for them at least a little bit. After all, when was the last time Uncle Lee had even come to visit the shop or the flat? At least a few years, hadn't it been? And she hadn't seen Patrick since he graduated three years ago and moved to the States as part of a semi-professional Quidditch troop that performed stunts and tricks wherever they could for a meagre salary.

After showering and changing into a fresh set of clothes, Roxy wandered around the flat, Banishing various items back to their proper spot, sending the dishes to wash and settle themselves into the cabinets, and wiped the windows and carpets clean with a wave of her wand.

Sometimes, or rather all the time, it was really nice to be able to do magic for various household chores. Roxy couldn't imagine trying to do any of this by hand, the muggle way. It would have taken her hours.

With nothing else to do until someone—be it, Uncle Lee or Mum—came over, Roxy decided to head downstairs to see if Anne needed help with anything. With the Christmas shopping season beginning to pick up a little, a fourth and fifth part-time employee was added to the staff to help with the sudden increase in owl orders. Anne would probably appreciate a little extra help around the shop.

There were five full-time employees that ensured that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes ran as efficiently as possibly. They were full-time because Mum had worked out with Uncle Ron who, of the more permanent nature, were the hard, dedicated workers that would be sure to last for more than just a few months before quitting in protest.

Anne, the eldest, ran the shop, handling expenses, tracking packages, ordering and restocking products, hiring new employees that were run by Mum, and generally making sure that the shop didn't fall apart.

Katie and Esther handled the check-out and sales, keeping track of the money and encouraging customers to spend that extra sickle wherever they could. The two women were great at talking to a hesitant mother who had wandered in just looking for a joke wand and convincing her to depart with a year's supply of Puking Pastilles and a boxing telescope.

Skye was the resident potioneer, and had been before Roxy was even in Hogwarts; Lucas kept track of customers to make sure nothing was stolen and that any broken products were paid for in full by the guilty party. These five, along with the five part-time employees, kept the shop in business, allowing Angelina to collect the family's profits and handle the company board without ever having to step foot into the store itself, something that Mum had not done since Dad's death.

"Hey, it's Foxy Roxy," laughed Nico when Roxy opened the door that separated the shop from the flat. "How're you doing today, Foxy Roxy?"

Roxy only rolled her eyes at his antics. Nico was a home schooled half-blood a year younger than she was, and thought he was a blessing to any female who came near him. Other than that—and his poorly misconstrued belief that he was in the slightest bit funny—Nico was decent enough in the sense that Roxy didn't always want to punch him in the face.

"Are you guys particularly busy today?" Roxy asked Nico, peeking through the curtains to see two young boys—both pre-Hogwarts age, around seven and eight years old—rifling through 'Shrieking Umbridge' dolls.

"Not yet, thankfully. Give it another week, though, and we'll be so swamped, there won't be room enough to swing a kneazle, let alone move around. Lucas'll have fun keeping track of everyone then, won't he?" Nico laughed and continued placing price tags on the wide array of merchandise in front of him.

"Do you think she would appreciate my help at all?" Roxy knew this shop better than anyone else. Her entire childhood had consisted of exploring the place and giving everyone and anyone who asked a tour of the whole shop. Roxy knew where any product was without even having to think about it. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had always felt just like an extension of her home—a big toy store located just downstairs.

If she left Diagon Alley—when she left—it would mean also leaving this place behind.

"Don't think she'd say no if you asked. I mean, you are kinda her boss. Or, you will be at some point at least." Nico used a roll of spellotape to stick a tag marked with the words 5 galleons to his cheek.

"Boss?"

"Yeah. It's Weasley's Wizards Wheezes, innit? And you're a Weasley. The only child of the guy that opened this place to begin with." The term only child stung, but Roxy let it go. "The shop's almost your birthright, wouldn't you say? Your inheritance?"

"I suppose."

To be honest, the idea of owning the shop hadn't really crossed Roxy's mind. It was always just there, as much a part of her life as her messy curls or her love of potions. But to imagine herself one day running the place—well, hadn't she dreamed of doing that very thing when she was a little girl? And Nico had a point, it practically was her birthright to run the place.

Roxy stuck her head through the curtains once more, looking around for Anne so she could ask about helping when she spotted Uncle Lee's greying dreads outside the shop. The bell chimed and, below where Roxy stood, her god-father and god-brother stepped inside, looking around at all the colourful items, listening to the hissing and whirring and chirping, watching as bubbles floated past and refuse to pop, instead letting out a variety of smells that were both sweet and disgusting, depending on what they were near at the moment.

Roxy moved forward to lean over the balcony, waving at Uncle Lee. "Hello!" she called out, making her god-father look up in her direction and wave. Both of the Jordans made their way over to the staircase that would take them to the staff area.

"Roxanne Weasley. How is my favourite god-daughter?" Uncle Lee asked when he made it to the top step, enveloping Roxy in a hug. He pulled away just enough to look her over, smiling cheekily. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've grown since I last saw you. Are you any taller, my Roxanne Weasley? Or is this old man just getting shorter every year?"

"I'm still as short as I've always been, Uncle Lee," Roxy replied, giggling. "it must just be you."

"No, no, it cant be! Tell her, Patrick, tell little Roxanne Weasley that she must be taller. Don't you think she looks it? Even a centimetre or two, she has to be taller."

"I dunno, Dad," said Patrick, shrugging. He had a slight American accent now, Roxy noticed; that vague every-man accent that you could hear on any muggle film or television show. "Roxy's still the same little kids as she was when I left. Maybe you're starting to see things. "He smiled tightly when he said this, to indicate that he was only half joking.

'Ah, well. Let me hug you again anyway," Uncle Lee said with a laugh and pulled Roxy into another hug, squeezing her tightly against him. When he finally pulled away, Uncle Lee stuck out his tongue at Roxy. "Those girls kicked us out of the house and told us to keep you company here instead if you'll have us. They seem to think we can't handle even being in the same house as someone giving birth, can you believe it? Like I never had two of my own kids."

"How rude," Roxy replied in a joking tone, directing them to follow her through the curtain and back upstairs. She waved good-bye to Nico, whose entire face was now covered in price tags and was working on covering his arms and hands. "So where's Colin? Is he coming over as well?"

"Apparently, dads are allowed to wait outside of the room, so he got to at least stay over there while we got kicked out" explained Patrick, following Roxy and his father upstairs. "Though I've never seen Creevey turn so white until Lea started screaming at him."

"Do they think it'll be soon that the babies come?" She had never attended a birth—unless her own counted; Roxy had still been at Hogwarts when Remy was born and Victoire had gone on holiday when she gave birth to Will. None of the other cousins had had children yet, except for Faith, and Roxy had not been invited to that event.

"Midwife said it could be tomorrow morning before they'll be ready to let us back in. not sure what Colin is going to do if it really does take that long—sleep on the couch or something, I guess. Did Lea and I take so long to come around?" Patrick turned to his father.
"Much longer," replied Uncle Lee teasingly, to which the two young adults made faces.

Roxy unlocked the door to the flat, letting the three of them back inside. Patrick immediately settled onto the couch, while Roxy and lee eased themselves into the armchairs on either side.

"You enjoying work?" asked Uncle Lee, smiling at Roxy while Patrick laid down on the couch so that his long legs hung off of the side. "Ange says that you're working for that prestigious potions company in downtown? That's a shame, hearing that no one with the last name of Weasley is going to be running the main shop any more. It won't be the same, and I'm sure plenty of people can agree with me on that."

"Anne's practically in charge here at the main store anyway," Roxy said with a shrug. "She runs things by Uncle Ron and Mum, but we were never very involved to begin with, even when Dad was around. This was really all of his dream, his work. But that doesn't mean—" She took a deep breath, steeling herself to continue on about this secret that she hadn't told anyone else, not even Jo or Aniya."—that I couldn't one day take over. I'm clearly great at potions, and I'd like to think that I'm pretty imaginative as well. Anything else that I might be pants at can be balanced out by just hiring someone else who knows what they're doing."

"Good, good. That Anne woman just has always struck me as too—too businessy to be running a joke shop. She doesn't fit."

"Businessy?" repeated Patrick, smirking. "What the hell does that even mean, Dad? And besides, Mum says that you were the one who introduced Anne to Uncle George in the first place, so you must not have always hated her."

"I thought she'd be one of those girls who lasted only a month or two and then quit, like usual. I wasn't expecting George to like her so much that he practically handed the whole damn shop to her after his passing. I mean, Merlin's pants, just because he—" Uncle Lee broke off, turning completely red in the face.

Roxy's head snapped up and she stared over at her god-father, who began to twiddle his thumbs and hum loudly to avoid Roxy's intense gaze. Anne had been hired nearly two years before Roxy was even born, so seeing her working downstairs was always just a part of life, one of those things that would never change. It was hard to imagine her being hired, and even weirder to imagine her leaving. But…

Was Uncle Lee implying that there had once been a time that her father and Anne—no, that was crazy because Roxy's parents loved each other too much to ever cheat on the other person...it just wasn't possible.

"Uncle Lee?" she asked, her voice breaking. He was still looking away, still red from embarrassment. "Uncle Lee, what were you going to say? W-what were you about to say about Dad and Anne? Because it sounded like you were about to say that Dad fancied her, which doesn't make any sense, because Dad loved Mum and he would never cheat on her, right? And especially not someone, like, eleven years younger than him, right? Uncle Lee, please tell me you weren't going to say anything like that. Please."

"It was only just the one time," whispered Uncle lee, staring down at his hands. Patrick threw his father a shocked look while Roxy's heart fluttered and she had to grab onto the arms of her chair to keep from falling over. "George—I don't know what it is he ever saw in her, but they were—it was a Christmas party, you were only a few months old and I—there was quite a bit of alcohol being served. You know how your father was when the Firewhiskey was brought out. He—your—Ange found them in a cupboard together. She never did forgive him, or her."

"But Mum still lets Anne work her. Lets her run the store on a day-to-day basis. If Anne did that, then why wouldn't Mum fire her immediately? I would have."

Uncle lee shook his head. "I don't know why. Angelina never confided in me about it, and if she ever told Katie, I wasn't made aware. Maybe—maybe your mum took pity on a young girl that was desperately in love, or maybe she threatened George if he ever so much as looked at another person besides her for the rest of his life. All I know is she never let George and Anne be by themselves again. That's why we would always call you Roxy for short, instead of Anne. The one time anyone did try it, your mum nearly blew up."

"Why would Dad ever do anything like this, though? He loved Mum, didn't he? Why would he cheat on her if he loved her so much?" Roxy was shaking; Patrick pulled himself off of the couch to wrap his arms around her, which made Roxy jump; tears began to form in the corners of her eyes as the whole situation overwhelmed her.

"I don't want to make excuses for George's behaviour, but—you know what he was like when he had too much to drink. Your dad...he stopped being your dad. He'd act out and wouldn't ever care that he was hurting anyone else because all he could focus on was his own pain. But if it means anything, your dad did regret kissing Anne for the rest of his life. If Ange had asked him to fire Anne at any point, I have no doubt he would have done it in a heartbeat."

"No, that doesn't make me feel better at all," she replied, wrapping her arms around her chest. Patrick began to stroke Roxy's curls and, out of her eyesight, jerked his chin at his father to indicate that lee ought to stop talking about George and Anne.

"Lea said she'd love for you to stop by at some point," said Patrick loudly; the hand not still ruffling her curls was now rubbing comforting circles on her back. "She feels like you two don't hang out enough any more. Maybe you could stop by the house with us once we're allowed back inside. As long as that super intense midwife isn't around, I bet we'd even be allowed to hold the twins for a few minutes. What d'you say, Rox? After all, don't girls usually like little babies?"

Roxy breathed in and out slowly through her nose in order to calm down. Every instinct in her body was telling Roxy to run downstairs and rip Anne's head off, but she knew getting into a public fight over an incident that had happened only once—and nearly two decades ago to boot—was not the smartest idea. Not to mention that Anne was twenty years older than Roxy and quite a bit taller, as well.

Besides, wouldn't it be better to get the full story from Mum before confronting Anne about any of this? In case, there was more to it than Uncle Lee either knew or was letting on.

"Babies are fine," she said heavily to Patrick, still trying to control the angry pounding of her heart. Logic could always be used to bring order to her mind once more, but her emotions would allow no such order. They wanted only chaos and instinct to rule over her mind and leave Roxy straight downstairs to Anne's office.

You have to be mature about this, she told herself sternly, hands balled into fists. Even if she hadn't been—you have to be the adult here. No fighting. Be the Slytherin you're meant to be, weigh your options. Fighting wouldn't solve anything, and you know that.

"Perhaps Roxy and I should go for a walk, yeah?" said Patrick kindly, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. He must have noticed the pained expression on her face. "I can go get our cloaks and you get a drink of water, okay?"

She nodded, doing her best to keep him from noticing that she was shaking from head to toe. "Mum has some spare cloaks in the cupboard," she told him, pointing towards the hallway. "Mine should be in there, too. You'd probably fit—" She nearly choked on the word, but held back the sob that threatened to crawl up from inside of her. "—you'd probably fit in one of Freddie's older ones. You two were always close in size."

"Alright," Patrick replied, his voice soft and comforting. "Yours is the green one?"

"Emerald. I am a snake after all."

"But a very pretty one, I must protest, for, being such a creature that is usually considered to be one of deceit, you are astonishingly honest."

"Thank you for such kind words, Sir Lion."

"You're welcome, Lady Snake. I mean them truly"

They're both trying so hard to light-hearted, to joke and play around like they always did with each other, but there is an air of tension beneath their words, a layer of caution; they are dancing around each other, never quite reaching the true subject underneath but instead choosing to leave it behind in their seats when they both get up, he to the cupboard and she to the kitchen.

Roxy stretched upwards, grabbing a drinking glass from the kitchen and pointed her wand at it. "Aguamenti," she muttered, watching a small stream of water trickle out of the end of her wand to fill up the glass. Once it was full, she took a deep drink, only pausing when she finally ran out of air.

Her hands were still trembling, Roxy noticed when she set the glass down in the sink. That surprised her—she, strangely, had expected the water to have a near-instantaneous effect on her like it always did when she was a child and grew upset. Mum or Dad would pour her a glass of water and by the time she was done drinking, all her problems went back to being silly, infantile situations that could be easily fixed.

How could one simple mistake have ruined so much? Was this why Mum never went into the shop any more? Why she always sent Roxy downstairs with the employees' salaries at the end of the month, or else had an owl fly downstairs?

She shook her head, stepping back into the sitting room, where Uncle Lee was sitting in his chair, as still as a statue. "Hello," she said as calmly as she could manage, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans but pulling them back out almost immediately when she felt them trembling violently against her skin.

"I'll just stay here, shall I?" asked Uncle Lee, still staring down at his hands. Roxy nodded, moving forward to hug her god-father. She felt bad for him—it couldn't have been easy holding in a secret like that for so long, every time he saw Anne. Perhaps that was why he had decided to stop coming by the shop after Dad died because seeing the place run by the woman that had nearly ruined the marriage of his best friends was more than he could handle.

"C'mon Rox, let's go before it starts snowing again, yeah?" Patrick said, handing Roxy her cloak and swinging a long blue one around his shoulders. Roxy took his hand, feeling the warmth in his fingers.

He opened the door and they both stepped into the cold.