Once my mother and I were done eating, we headed back upstairs. She went back to her room, and I went back to mine. It was empty and I could hear voices coming from Fred and George's room next door. I knocked on the connecting door before letting myself in. I found Ginny, Kayla, Allie and Rachel were all there, situated in various spots around the room George was there as well, but I didn't see Fred.
"Where's Fred?" I asked, looking around. My eyes fell on George, who was looking at me guiltily. "What? Where is he?"
"He left," George said quietly. "I told him you were with your mother and his mood instantly changed. He left and said he needed some space. He told me not to follow him because there was no need, he didn't want me to, and if anything bad happened, I'd know because of the bracelets."
"Well, where did he go?" I asked.
"Don't look at me," George said. "I'm not familiar with this town."
"Neither is he," I argued. "We haven't been to that many places..." I trailed off and groaned. "He's sulking."
"That's obvious," George said.
"Have the two of you talked about what comes next?" Ginny asked.
"I tried to talk to him last night," I answered. "But he didn't make it easy. He only opened up slightly before deciding he'd rather spend his time kissing me."
Ginny snorted. "That sounds like him."
I sighed and plopped down on one of the beds. "I just went to talk to my mother to see what she wanted. Just to hear her out. No decisions had been made as of this morning. At least not officially."
"And what about now?" Rachel asked. "What did you and your mother talk about? What are you going to do?"
"I'm staying in London," I answered, smiling slightly as everyone in the room brightened a bit at the news. "I never wanted to leave. I didn't want to make a choice and I didn't want my mother to force me to make one. But even if she did, I would've chosen London in the end. That's what I consider home now."
"So is she coming back with us?" Allie asked. "Your mother?"
"For a bit," I answered. "She doesn't know for how long, but she said she'll stay as long as she needs to. As long as it takes. As long as I want her to stay, essentially. And if she leaves and settles somewhere else eventually, she did promise to keep in touch..." I trailed off and shook my head. "She even knew I didn't want to leave London and she didn't want to make me."
"Well, we're certainly glad you're staying," Allie said. "Now you just need to make sure Fred knows that. From the sound of it, he doesn't even like the idea of you considering your options. It seems like the possibility that you might choose to live somewhere else freaked him out."
"He really doesn't want you to," George said with a smile. "Live somewhere else, I mean. Take it from me."
"Well, obviously," Rachel sighed, looking at George. "He likes her."
I smiled slightly and stood up, turning for the door again. "I actually have a feeling I know where he went. I'll be back, okay?" And with that, I slipped out of the room again and shut the door behind me.
I found Fred out in the gardens of Ropes Mansion, standing over the sundial in the center, his hands resting on either side of the grey pedestal it sat on as he stared down at it, lost in thought.
"What are you doing all the way out here?" I asked as I walked over to him. "No one knew where you went."
"I just needed some air," Fred answered, still looking down at the sundial.
"Okay," I said slowly, studying him for a moment before turning to gaze around at the gardens. It wasn't as vibrant as it usually was in the summer, but it didn't make it any less gorgeous. Eventually, I gazed back at Fred as I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. Merlin, I wished he'd talk to me without me having to prod him so hard.
"This sundial really is such bullshit," Fred suddenly said, turning away from it and crossing his arms.
"What?" I looked at him in surprise.
Fred glanced back at the sundial and recited the words displayed on it. "'Hours fly, flowers bloom and die, old days old ways pass by, love stays.' I've never heard a more untrue statement in my life."
"Why?" I asked him, my eyebrows raised. Despite my strong hunch of what was bothering him, and the fact that George had pretty much confirmed it, the stubborn part of me wanted to make him tell me on his own. There was no way I was going to spend the rest of my life guessing what his issue was every time he was upset.
Fred groaned in exasperation. He turned and started walking away from me, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Just forget it."
"Fred," I called after him, standing rooted to the spot I was standing in, but turning so that I was facing his retreating figure. I was really beginning to see what Angelina meant when she said she had struggled with communication from him. Even at his best, he wasn't very good at it. "I don't want to forget it. Something's wrong. Something's been upsetting you since last night and you need to tell me. We can't address it or fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong."
Fred suddenly whirled around and took a few steps back towards me. "You know what? You're right. Something is wrong. And its really hard to just ignore it."
"Then talk to me!" I exclaimed. "Tell me what's bothering you. All of it. Not just bits and pieces. You can't keep leaving me to fill in the blanks here."
"It's not that simple," Fred said. "I'm afraid that if we talk about this, I won't like what you tell me. And I don't want to have to keep trying to move on and nurse another broken heart. You had your own annoying self-preservation habits and this is mine. If I avoid the subject, I won't get hurt. Or at least I'll get hurt less."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
Fred pointed to the sundial. "From my experience, love doesn't stay. It leaves when you need it the most, or maybe before it's barely begun, just as you let yourself give it a try again. You once knew that just as much as I do."
"I do still know that," I said, trying to ignore the sting of his words.
"Do you?" He asked. "You found your mother again and you found out the truth. She's always loved you and never wanted to leave you. And now you have your whole life to catch up with her again. I can't have that with the people I've lost."
"So this is about Percy," I said, blinking in confusion. I supposed that made sense. I was trying to piece together how much of this was about me and how much was about other people like Percy or even Angelina. Or maybe all three of us. He knew I wanted to salvage a relationship with my mother and that the future hadn't exactly been certain. I knew he wanted a relationship with me as well, but he had said he couldn't get a second chance with the people he had lost and that in his experience love had never managed to stay. That led me to believe he was referencing Angelina and Percy.
"No, it's not about Percy," Fred said in exasperation. "Not entirely! Merlin, do I have to spell it out for you?"
"Maybe you do," I argued. "You're talking, but I'm not understanding. Not fully. I thought I knew why you were upset, but I still feel like I'm missing something. I thought you were upset because you felt that there could be a possibility of me not coming back to London."
Fred swallowed. "That's exactly it. You've suddenly gotten everything you've ever wanted," he said quietly. "Eric's gone and you've found your mother. And I'm happy for you. Truly. I've wanted this for you, too. Believe me, I have. But I didn't realize until now that it would mean you would ultimately have no reason to go back to England with me once it was over. That you'd stay here instead."
"Stay here?" I asked, my eyes going wide. I was surprised. That had never really been an option. Both my mother and I were content in leaving. So as far as I was concerned our options were go back to London or start somewhere else. But I hadn't wanted to start somewhere else. It had never really been an option.
"Of course," Fred answered. "Why wouldn't you? It's where you were born, where you grew up. Where your mother is. You both want to get to know each other again. Why wouldn't you stay here and make up for all the lost time here that you missed? You know, rebuild your lives?" He shook his head and sighed. "I saw you two, you know. Eating breakfast in the hotel restaurant. I could see you from the doorway. She said something and you laughed. You looked really happy. And that's the way it should be. I can't take that away from you. I know how important family is and I know what it's like to lose a family member. You were just lucky enough to get that family member back. And I'd do anything to get Percy back, so I'd be a hypocrite if I destroyed your second chance for you."
I thought back to breakfast and pinpointed the moment he was talking about. It was towards the end of the meal and my mother and I had actually fallen into an easy, normal conversation as we had started to enjoy ourselves. We'd talked about old memories and shared stories and it had actually stopped being weird and had started to feel normal.
"My talk with her didn't begin in the way you saw us talking, you know," I said. "It was tense for a while. Rebuilding our relationship is going to be hard, Fred. And I did go to breakfast with her to figure out what our next move is, but-"
"And I get that," Fred interrupted. "It's a reasonable thing to do. But at the same time, that's when I had the realization that you coming back to London was suddenly a question and not a fact. I realized that you could and most likely would choose your mother. That you probably wouldn't come back to London. And that realization freaked me out because I've gone and done something that might terrify you."
"I highly doubt that," I said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think anything you could do would terrify me more than what Eric's already done."
"I've fallen in love with you," Fred said, almost bluntly, meeting my eyes as he spoke.
My mouth promptly dropped open and my heart stopped for a split second before starting to beat double time. "Fred..." I managed to breathe out.
He was in love with me? I had not been expecting him to say that. But I knew he was telling the truth and I knew he meant what he said. And I didn't know what to make of it. Part of me-a big part-was elated. But another part of me was terrified. I'd never had someone admit something like this to me. I didn't know if he expected me to say it back, but I also wasn't sure if I was at that point yet, no matter what my mother had told me just a few hours ago. I'd just been too focused on other things and too closed off for so long. But now all of that was behind me. And what I wanted now was not only a future, but a future with Fred. I wanted more time with him. Time for us to be normal. And that was crazy and terrifying and wonderful all at once. But I couldn't even consider the possibility of leaving him-of staying here while he went back to England. It would impact me just as much as it would impact him. Did he really not see that? It was why I hadn't wanted to make a choice this morning over breakfast with my mother. I'd gone to breakfast to talk to her and figure it out together, but even she knew where I really wanted to be and that I'd gone there hoping she would move her life to me. I wanted to be in London and I wanted her there with me because while I had a choice, I didn't want to make one. I was just thankful she had seen that and refused to let me even toy with the idea of being somewhere else.
Fred sighed and walked over to a nearby bench. Instead of sitting on it, he leaned against the armrest and rested his head in his hands for a moment before he looked back up at me. "Yeah," he croaked out. "I'm in love with you. I'm not sure if you feel the same way, but I don't care. It's not something I can help. And I got freaked out about losing you, just like I lost Angelina." He paused. "You know, I even considered staying here with you. But I can't leave George. I can't leave the joke shop or the rest of my family."
"I don't want you to," I said quietly.
"But I don't know how I'm going to leave you either. I can't go through something like that again." He cleared his throat. "I can't. I just can't."
"Fred," I said, my voice finally coming out clear as I slowly walked over and stood directly in front of him. "You need to stop jumping to conclusions," I said firmly.
"What?" Fred whispered hoarsely, looking up at me in surprise.
"No one said anything about me staying here."
"But—"
"I'm not staying here," I whispered.
"You're not?" Fred looked at me in confusion.
"I can't stay in Salem," I said with a slight laugh. "There's nothing keeping me here. I may have been born here and I may have grown up here, but a large amount of my childhood was terrible. Honestly, the only good times I've had here were the ones with my mother before she left me, and some of the moments I've had recently with you. And I don't want to make up for lost time. Lost time is lost. And you know me, I always just want to move forward. That's why I ran to England and fought you on ignoring my past for so long."
Fred snorted. "But your mother-"
"She's doesn't want to stay here either," I said. "She feels the same way I do, actually. In fact, she mentioned moving to New York at some point and—"
"New York?" Fred asked, his eyebrows raising. "Are you-?"
"Fred, let me finish," I told him, shaking my head. "I'm not going to live with her there either. She said she considered living there eventually. Not right away. And even if she does end up there, she promised I could visit whenever I liked so we could finally ice skate there. But first, she's going to spend some time in England. So that we can spend time together in the place where I really want to be. And she wants to meet Tom and Martha, and the rest of your family to thank them for taking care of me and doing what she couldn't." I shrugged. "Our relationship needs a lot of repairing and I want to repair it. Slowly. But I can't see myself just moving in with her here or anywhere and trying to act like we don't have a huge, empty gap of sixteen years in our relationship. I want to get to know her in a place where I am comfortable."
"But she-"
"I know she was technically there for a lot of years," I said. "But I didn't know that until recently! As far as I knew, she wasn't around. And it wasn't really her. It was all an act." I shook my head. "So, like I said, we have a lot of damage control to do. Our relationship isn't going to just snap back. Ultimately, she doesn't feel like family right now. You do. Your siblings do and your parents do. Rachel, Kayla and Allie do. Kyle does. Tom and Martha do. I don't want to waste any more time being away from people who have become my family. So I'm going back to England with you. And I'm going to stay."
"You are?" Fred asked, a slow smile spreading over his face.
"Mhm," I nodded. "I'm not going anywhere and if you'd just talked to me about it instead of brooding ever since you found out my mother was back, it would've saved a lot of trouble." I smiled. "You really do have to work on communicating."
"Noted," Fred said, gazing at me with a grin that made me want to melt. He reached out to grab my wrist, pulling me closer to stand in between his legs. "And what about the part where I told you I was in love with you? Any thoughts or opinions on that?"
I smiled and reached up to run my hand through his hair before letting my hand rest on his cheek. "I'm glad you told me," I said. "No one's ever told me that before-romantically, I mean. And it's been a long time since I've even heard that word at all. It feels good."
"But you don't feel the same way," he said, his expression faltering slightly.
"I've just...had a lot going on," I said. "I have feelings did you. I know that much. I just haven't been able to process them enough, I guess, to determine just how deep those feelings are. But now that we have the time to focus just on us..."
"You're hoping you'll get there?" Fred finished hopefully.
I smiled and nodded. "More or less, yes."
"Okay," Fred whispered. He gave me a wry smile. "I guess I'll have to work extra hard to charm you."
I laughed and instead of answering, I made the first move by leaning up and kissing him. He froze for a split second before I felt his hands come to rest on my hips and then slide around to my back, pulling me closer to him. I finally pulled away slightly, resting my forehead against his.
"I'm so glad you're not staying here," he muttered, his eyes still closed.
I giggled as he leaned in to kiss me a second time, tightening his grip on my waist a little bit. Both of my hands rested on his face, my thumbs brushing over the freckled skin of his cheeks.
This time, Fred was the one to pull away. "You know, you seem a lot more relaxed about this. You used to be so jumpy. And rightly so, but now..."
I smiled. "I trust you," I whispered. "I know you're not going to hurt me."
"I'm glad you feel that way," Fred whispered. He studied my face for another moment before letting out a whoop, grabbing my around the waist and throwing me over his shoulder. I stiffened and let out a shriek before it dissolved into laughter. I gripped the back of his shirt as tightly as I could.
"Do not drop me!" I cried as Fred headed for the garden's exit.
"I thought you trusted me."
"I do!"
"Then shut up," he answered.
He set me down when we reached the sidewalk and slipped his hand into mine as we started walking back towards the hotel.
"You know," I began with a slight smile, "just because I said I trusted you--and I do trust you--it doesn't mean you won't scare the shit out of me by doing what you just did."
Fred leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Sorry...are you okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah--I'm just letting you know in case I have that instinctual reaction to scream bloody murder again."
Fred snorted and dug a finger of his free hand into his ear. "I think you damaged my eardrums, actually."
I smiled slightly, but didn't respond as we continued walking. Every so often, I could sense Fred glancing over at me, but I pretended not to notice. At least for a little bit.
"What do you keep looking at me for?" I asked with a slight giggle.
"I just like you that much," Fred said, nudging my side. "Is that a crime?"
"No," I said, blushing slightly. This was so unfamiliar to me that it almost felt bizarre. But it also felt good.
For the first time in my life, I could think about the future and feel hopeful.
It was late afternoon by the time Fred, George, Ginny, Rachel, Allie, Kayla, my mother and I arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. Before we'd left Salem, George had sent a Patronus on ahead to let Tom and Martha know we were on our way, so they were expecting us. It was a Monday, which meant there most likely wouldn't be many guests. Mondays weren't overly busy anyway, unless it the lunch rush at around noon, but since it was now a few hours past that, and dinnertime on Monday was never too bad, we weren't expecting a lot of people to be around when we got there.
We used the front entrance and I immediately looked around the room to see that there were only two customers eating at the moment. One was engrossed in reading the Daily Prophet and the other was talking to Martha, who was standing at the end of his table and setting down a new mug of tea.
She turned and noticed us as we walked in and let out a gasp of happiness. "You're here!" She hurried towards us, turning her head towards the kitchen as she did so. "Tom! Tom, they're here!"
When she reached us, she made a beeline for me and pulled me in for a tight hug. "We were so worried!" she exclaimed. "We wanted to go get you right away-Molly did, too. The poor woman was a wreck when she found out you had left."
My heart sank slightly. I had expected to hear that, but it didn't make it hurt any less. "I'm sorry. I know I-we-shouldn't have just left, but we had to do something. Staying here felt like a dead end and people I cared about were getting attacked. I hated sitting around and being afraid every second of every day. Despite how busy I kept myself at the Burrow, I still felt like I was doing nothing. I had to go. And it all turned out all right." I smiled slightly. "I hope the girls won't be in too much trouble for leaving work for a bit on such short notice."
Martha actually laughed. "Well, it was no picnic being suddenly short four employees, I'll tell you that. But we managed, just as we always do. And we were more worried about your safety."
I nodded and let Martha pull me into another hug as Tom suddenly came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel that he tossed back into the hamper before coming towards us. Martha moved on to greeting Rachel, Kayla and Allie, while Tom stopped in front of me, looking down at me stonily.
"I'm sorry for leaving the way I did," I said quietly, meeting his eyes. "I shouldn't have done it. And I'm sorry for dragging three of your employees with me, but--"
"We wanted to go," Rachel piped up from behind me. "No one was dragged."
I let out a short breath of laughter before looking back at Tom. "Regardless...something just came over me and I needed to take control of the things that were happening to my own life. And also affecting the lives of everyone here. Now that this is all over...I'd like to stay here in London. I'd like to keep working here. If you'll have me, that is."
My heart pounded as Tom continued to stare down at me. Finally, he let out a sigh. "Do you know how worried we all were?" He finally asked. "Especially Molly, who woke up to find you gone that morning? And then finding that Fred and George weren't at work when she tried to get in touch with them? And then Martha and I get a note from Rachel saying that she was taking some time out of work for personal reasons. We all thought the worst! We only found out where you went because Harry, Ron and Hermione finally caved and mentioned it, but insisted we don't follow you. Why I listened to them, I have no idea..."
"Because we knew we'd be next to useless if it all came down to it," Martha sighed. "We're not as quick and agile as we once were, Tom."
"I am not useless," Tom scoffed. "And neither are you."
Martha sighed again and rolled her eyes. "In a duel, we might as well be."
"We're not even that old," Tom muttered. "Only nearing the halfway point between sixty and seventy. That's not even all that old in Muggle years and they have a slightly shorter lifespan than wizards do."
"All right, darling," Martha said comfortingly, reaching out to pat his arm. "In any case, we did have a business to run, and Harry was right when he said we couldn't all go to Salem. It would draw too much attention. And we did need people here in case anything happened. Look at what happened to Ginny!"
Fred snorted from beside me. "That was my idea you know. To keep people here to draw less attention to Salem and in case anything else happened here while we were gone. I'm just angry it had to be this pain in the ass who was targeted." He reached over and ruffled Ginny's hair as she scoffed and shoved his arm away.
"Well, it was a good idea," Martha said, "regardless of how much any of us liked sitting idly by while the rest of you traipsed around Salem."
Fred grinned and actually took a bow. I rolled my eyes and gave him a playful shove as he laughed and straightened up. He looked at Tom and Martha. "Speaking of Mum, though, are she and Dad on their way?"
"They should be here shortly," Martha said. "Come on, let's all go upstairs so we can talk."
Rachel, Allie and Kayla agreed to take over in the kitchen and dining room while everyone else turned for the stairs.
"One more thing," I said, drawing their attention back to me. I looked between Tom and Martha for a moment before reaching slightly behind me and closing my fingers around my mother's wrist as I tugged her forward. "I don't mean to spring this on you, but I'm not sure there's any way to tell you that won't result in shock, so...I'd like you both to meet my mother, Rebecca."
Tom and Martha gaped at me for a moment before Martha's hands flew to her mouth. "Your—your mother?" She gasped.
She looked ready to faint, and apparently Tom thought so too, because he gently put a hand on her arm. He looked between me and my mother wearily.
"I'm assuming there's going to be quite a detailed story as to how you first arrived here an orphan, but are now returning with your mother?"
"Um, kind of, yes," I answered.
Tom sighed. "Come on, let's go upstairs." He turned and headed in that direction, and as he did, I heard him mutter, "I'm going to need a mug of tea with a bit of whiskey in it. Or perhaps the other way around."
I glanced at my mother and gave her a reassuring smile before the two of us followed the others up the stairs.
A few hours later, I was sitting in the living room of Tom and Martha's flat, a mug of tea in my hands as I looked around at all of the people who were gathered in the room, processing the information that had just been handed to them.
It was only Tom, Martha, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Ginny, my mother and myself that were here. And while Mr. Weasley had gone back to Salem with the twins to help confront Eric and knew the story from start to finish, he hadn't filled in the others in detail, including Mrs. Weasley and they knew next to nothing. And he definitely had not mentioned my mother. That was my business to tell.
"I know it's a lot..." I began.
"It's more than a lot," Tom said, leaning back in his chair. He looked over at my mother and gave her a thorough once over. She didn't flinch under his gaze and I had to give her credit. I had certainly been slightly afraid of Tom when I'd first shown up here. "So," Tom finally said, "you're her mother?"
My mother nodded. "I am." She looked between him and Martha. She stuck out her hand to to. "Rebecca McConnell."
Tom studied her for a moment before slowly taking her hand and shaking it, keeping his scrutinizing gaze on her. After he'd released her hand, she turned to Martha, who hesitated for a moment before shaking it.
"We had no idea you even existed," Martha said. "And to think you've been close by this whole time..."
"I know," my mother said. "Like I said, it's a lot. But I'd just like to thank both of you for what you've done for Sophie. I know she is forever grateful and so am I." She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "The same goes for you as well. You took her in when you didn't have to. When it was quite dangerous for you to do so. You showed her the love and affection she had lost from me and that she wanted and needed so badly. Whatever your feelings may be for me and for what I did, I wanted to thank you."
"I understand that you were trying to do what you thought you needed to do given the circumstances," Tom said, leaning forward and continuing to study my mother intently, "but Sophie was in an awful state when she first came here. She was running from that man, she was hungry, frightened, and not to mention, hurt. Have you seen what he did to her back?"
"Haven't seen it, no," my mother said, blushing and looking away for the first time since she'd been here. "But I knew about it. I know I had also led him to her here, but at the same time I knew she was safe with you. She had people who would protect her and who loved her. People who could help her-she couldn't face Eric alone. I hoped if she was able to grow stronger physically and mentally and managed to trust people and have some kind of support system..." She trailed off and swallowed. "I know you all love her. You wanted to protect her. You became the support system I wanted her to have."
"Well, that much is true," Martha said. She looked at me, and she actually looked sad. "I've come to think of you as the daughter Tom and I never had," she said. "I'm very happy you and your mother found each other, though, dear." Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, though and I sighed as she stood up in a hurry to refill the tea kettle.
"Martha," I called after her. I looked at Tom, who was half out of his chair, and stopped him from getting up completely. "I'll go." I looked at my mother and murmured that I'd be back before going after Martha. She was in the kitchen, filling the kettle with more hot water and swiping at her eyes.
"I'm alright, dear," she said, "go back and enjoy your time with everyone else."
"I wouldn't say this is exactly an enjoyable visit," I said, leaning against the counter beside her. "You know, nothing's going to change."
"Sweetheart, everything will change," Martha answered. "I know things are awkward with your mother now, but you'll grow close again."
"We don't know that," I said. "Besides, I don't think we can completely make up for all the time we missed. And what you've done for me can't be erased. Why do you think I want to stay here so badly? Because this is where my life is now. All my mother and I want to do is try. Try to have a relationship and see where everything goes from there." I smiled. "I meant what I said to Tom downstairs. If you'll have me, I'd like to stay."
"Oh, of course you can stay," Martha said, turning and wrapping me in a tight hug. She pulled away and held me at arm's length. "Does your mother have a place to stay while she's here?"
"No," I answered. "She's kind of in the same position I was in when I first arrived. Except without the injuries and having to eat from the trash."
"Well, then she'll stay here," Martha said in a matter of fact tone.
"What?" I asked in surprise. "Martha, you don't have to do that..."
"Nonsense," she said. "We have available rooms she could use for the time being. And we still have Noah's old position open if she wants to work..."
"I'm not sure how long she's staying," I said.
"Darling, that's what you said when you first came here, too."
I laughed. "That's true, but really, I'm not sure how easy this is going to be for her. She's well aware of what an uncomfortable situation this is because of how close I've gotten to everyone here and how much I've drifted away from her. She didn't know how receptive everyone would be."
Martha's expression softened. "Well, all the more reason to make it easier on her, yes?" She set the now whistling tea kettle onto a tray and carried it back to the living room, where I heard her begin to offer my mother not only a room, but a job as well.
"Martha," Tom said in exasperation as I stood at the living room door, watching the scene with a slight smile on my face, "what are we, a homeless shelter now?"
"Tom, don't be rude!" Martha said. "This is important for Sophie. Think of her. You didn't want to take her in at first either, and now I'd say you're quite fond of her!"
"Well, that was—that didn't mean I wanted to take in everyone from now on." He looked at my mother. "You understand, I'm sure."
"Of course," my mother said, nodding slightly, but I could see a tiny giggle shake her shoulders a few times.
"What did I say about being rude, Thomas?" Martha asked.
"I know what you said. All I'm saying, Martha, is..."
As Tom and Martha kept up their quiet bickering, I looked across the room and met Fred's eyes. He smiled and sent me a subtle wink as I smiled back and made my way across the room to sit beside him in the couch. He draped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in to kiss my temple as I leaned against him.
Things weren't perfect yet, by any means, but they were certainly looking up.
"How much longer until your shift is over?"
I glanced up at Fred from the table I was cleaning and smiled. He was lounging at the table next to me, leaning against the wall with his feet up on the bench next to him. His long legs were sticking straight out and crossed at the ankle as he lazily twirled his wand between his fingers and lifted his cold glass of butterbeer to his lips with his free hand.
"I'm done as soon as I finish cleaning this table," I said.
"Good," he answered with a smile, wiping away the butterbeer foam that had stuck to his upper lip. "I'm hungry."
I let out a quiet laugh and shook my head. It was nearing seven-thirty at night a few weeks after we'd returned from Salem. We all had started getting back into some kind of routine. Tom, Martha and I had worked out a few more kinks in my work schedule, so that my shifts weren't as long. I still had Sundays and Tuesdays off and I was going to alternate between morning and afternoon shifts on Saturdays, which meant that every other Saturday, I had the whole night off. And my other shifts during the week usually varied between morning, afternoon and closing shifts so there was some kind of variety.
On this particular Wednesday, my shift was over at seven-thirty and Fred and I had planned to eat dinner together. We usually did this on days when my shift ended around this time. The joke shop closed at seven on weekdays, so Fred had just enough time to help George close everything up, then come meet me for dinner.
I slid as far as I could into the booth to grab a few discarded napkins lying on the table near the wall. The rag I'd charmed to clean the table was still scrubbing away, so I tossed the napkins into the dirty dishes bin lying on the seat opposite me before turning and resting my arms across the wooden seat back between my table and Fred's.
"It just so happens that I'm hungry too," I said with a smile, resting my chin on my arms. "What do you think you'll be having tonight? Might I suggest the chicken pot pie?"
"You have the chicken pot pie at least once a week," Fred laughed.
"It's so good," I sighed. "I've never had anything like it."
"Believe me, I've had it plenty of times myself, and I know it's good. But I think I'm going for good old fish and chips tonight. Can't go wrong with that."
"Another butterbeer?" I asked, gesturing to Fred's nearly empty glass.
He nodded and passed me the glass. "Thanks."
"I'll let Kyle know what you want to eat," I said, lifting my head from my arms. Fred leaned forward and quickly kissed me, but then stopped me as I turned to slide out of the booth.
"One more," he murmured, leaning forward and kissing me again; a longer one this time.
"You know, I'm not technically off the clock yet," I murmured. "Not until I go return all the dishes and take my apron off."
"Then you'd better get to it," Fred whispered back, leaning in for one more quick kiss. "Go on."
I slid out of the booth and levitated the bin of dirty dishes in front of me as I headed back to the kitchen, admiring my new wand as I did so. I'd gotten myself a replacement wand the day after I'd returned. I liked it quite a bit. I may have even liked it better than my old one. The detailing on the handle was prettier and more intricate and it almost seemed to work even better for me than my last one. Ollivander had gone off a bit about how one's personality, mood, or lifestyle affected connections between the wand and the witch or wizard. And I supposed I'd had large shifts in all three of those things recently, so I wondered if that was why. My old one had worked well enough, but my life was exponentially better now. I wasn't closing myself off, I was happy, less stressed, and not living in fear, so according to what Ollivander had said, the connection between me and my wand was the strongest it had ever been.
That wasn't to say that things had been easy by any means. It wasn't as if my life had just magically found a complete sense of normalcy. I still had nightmares, and they had increased back to nearly every night again. My sleep schedule was choppy and interrupted and I frequently felt tired because of it. On the nights the dreams were bad enough where I woke up screaming, Tom and Martha would wake up, too. Martha would comfort me and Tom would make me a mug of tea. The same routine as usual and I was grateful for it.
I was also still occasionally jumpy and sometimes suspicious of strangers that may have happened to just meet my eye or ones that I thought happened to look at me funny. My mind instantly went to the knowledge that Eric had disguised himself as random strangers several times in order to keep an eye on me. But then I'd remind myself that Eric was dead and I didn't have to worry.
Once I finally made it to the kitchen, I deposited the dishes into the sink, charmed them to start washing and drying themselves, then untied my apron and tossed it into the hamper. I gave Fred's food order to Kyle as well as my own, before grabbing a butterbeer for the two of us as well and heading back to the table.
"How is it that you seem to always make the perfect glass of butterbeer?" Fred asked as I set his down in front of him.
"What do you mean?" I giggled, sliding into the bench across from him and tugging my hair out of its ponytail as Fred dropped his feet off of the seat beside him and turned towards me.
"Perfect foam to drink ratio," Fred said, pointing to his glass. "And it's always the perfect temperature. Just cold enough without being too cold."
"I don't control the temperature," I told him. "Besides, it doesn't take much effort to prepare a glass of butterbeer. It's probably one of the easiest tasks here."
"Ah, well, it's still superior to the way everyone else does it," Fred said as I let out a scoff of laughter and rolled my eyes.
"How was work today?" I asked, wrapping my hands around my own glass and looking at Fred over the rim as I took a sip.
"It was fine. Pretty busy, actually, for a weekday in November," Fred answered. He let out a chuckle. "There was actually one woman who came in with her toddler. She was holding him in her arms and he reached for the headless hats while she wasn't looking and then managed to get one onto his head." He laughed again and shook his head. "The next time she looked over at her son, he was—he was—" At this point Fred was struggling to get the words out through his laughter, but I caught the gist of the story.
"He was headless?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow and a laugh of my own.
"He was!" Fred laughed. "The lady screamed and came running through the shop, holding her kid out in front of her. She thrust him right into George's arms and demanded he fix him straight away."
"George must have loved that," I laughed.
Fred nodded through his laughter. "He was standing there, completely caught off guard, holding a squirming toddler while the mother was in hysterics, yelling at him to put her son right. It took a few seconds for George to come out of his state of shock, but once he did, he just pulled the hat off the kid and his head came back. Then he just hands the kid back to the mother, looks around at all the onlookers, holds the hat up in the air and announces, 'Headless Hats, everyone. Middle shelf on the far right wall by the window'."
I laughed again. "So that child's misfortune was your excuse to advertise?" I asked teasingly.
"I wouldn't call it a misfortune, Soph," Fred answered with a quiet chuckle. "No children were harmed in the making of this advertisement."
I smiled and looked down at my drink, swirling it around in my glass as I did so. "So Ginny stopped by earlier to hand deliver a wedding invitation to me."
Fred grinned. "See, I told you she was inviting you."
I looked at him thoughtfully, the corner of my mouth tugging upwards into a coy smile. "Want to be my date?" I asked.
"Are you inviting me to my own sister's wedding?" Fred laughed.
I nodded and let out a soft giggle of my own. "As my date."
Fred pretended to think about it as he leaned back in his seat and let a puff of air out of his mouth. "I don't know," he sighed dramatically. "That's a really hard choice. Attend my sister's wedding with George on my arm, or an extremely beautiful girl? I don't know how I'll ever decide. I know George will cry if I don't choose him..."
"Fred," I laughed, lightly kicking him under the table.
"I might have to pick George," Fred sighed.
"I'm sure he's going to be there with Katie, isn't he?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "You'd only be a third wheel." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Besides, I don't think George will let you kiss him, so I think it's really in your best interest to go with me."
"Well, when you make an argument like that, how am I supposed to refuse?" Fred asked, his voice low as a smile spread over his face. He leaned across the table and kissed me, moving our drinks out of the way as he did so. "You're also getting pretty good at this whole flirting thing," he murmured.
"It's easier when I know I won't get shot down or laughed at for my pathetic attempts," I laughed.
"None of your attempts have been pathetic, trust me," Fred laughed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before pulling away and leaning back into his seat.
Before I could answer, Kayla appeared at the end of our table with our food. "You two are honestly nauseating," she informed us matter of factly, setting our plates down on the table. "You're going to chase away all our customers."
"Hey, we're not the ones insulting other customers," Fred said.
"Perhaps not verbally," Kayla scoffed. "Just visually."
"I beg to differ," Fred said. "I think Sophie and I are positively adorable. If anything, we'll bring in more business."
Kayla let out a laugh. "Sure, Weasley, whatever helps you sleep at night," she said, rolling her eyes. But I still saw the brief smile that crossed her face before she turned and walked away.
"She's happy for us," I laughed, watching Kayla leave for a moment before turning back to Fred. "Don't take it personally."
"When have you known me to take anything personally?" Fred asked. "Especially something Kayla said."
"True," I giggled.
We were quiet for a moment as we started eating. And then Fred spoke again. "I'm taking this Saturday afternoon off," he said, spearing a bit of his fish on his fork and aimlessly twirling the fork between his fingers.
I looked up at him in surprise. This Saturday was the first Saturday where I was working the early shift. The week before I'd gotten the closing one and had to work at night. Fred and I had decided that this weekend, he would ask Lee to fill in at the joke shop so that Fred could leave a few hours early and we would actually go on that first date we'd talked about. But we'd discussed meeting up at six thirty, so I wasn't sure why he'd suddenly taken the entire afternoon off.
"You took off the whole afternoon?" I asked. "I thought we agreed you would only leave work a few hours early."
"I know, but there's something I was hoping you'd come with me to do beforehand. It's not exactly something that would set the mood for a date, but I don't want to wait or else I'll lose my nerve. And I want you there with me."
I studied him for a moment. He was still twirling his fork between his fingers, staring down intently at the single bite of fish on the end.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, putting my own fork down and frowning slightly.
"Yeah," Fred nodded. "Everything's fine. It's just...I'm long overdue to do something, and now I think I'm ready. But I still want you with me." He swallowed and finally put down his fork as he looked up at me. "It shouldn't take too long and I'll only be coming to get you about an hour or two earlier than we planned. And I swear this isn't going to be the norm for every time we go out."
"You haven't even told me what this is, Fred," I sighed. "Remember when we talked about communication?"
"Yeah, I know, we talked about talking," Fred said, letting a puff of air out of his mouth. "But just trust me, okay? Just this once? No questions asked."
"I've been doing that more than once," I told him, picking up my fork again. "But I suppose one more time couldn't hurt."
Fred let out a quiet breath of laughter. "Thanks," he said, reaching across the table for my hand. His eyes swept over my face and I smiled.
"Finish your dinner before it gets cold," I said. "I think the fish is getting jealous. You're looking at me way more appreciatively."
"The fish is dead," Fred whispered. "It doesn't know the difference."
I smiled. "In any case, we're not here so you can stare at me all night."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Fred...eat," I commanded, fighting back a laugh.
He rolled his eyes and let go of my hand as he went back to his dinner. "Happy?" He asked.
"Thrilled," I responded, going back to my own food. But when I glanced up at Fred again, he was already looking up at me, a playful smile on his lips.
I couldn't help it—I laughed and buried my head in my hands. "You're impossible!"
"So I've been told," Fred answered, taking a bite of his food. He studied me as I lowered my hands from my face and sat there staring at him in amusement. His smile widened and he gestured to my plate. "Your food's getting cold."
I let out a half-groan, half-laugh. "Fred!" I crumpled up my napkin and tossed it at him as he laughed and flinched away. He truly did seem to know just how to divert every serious conversation into a joke or a laughing matter, which a lot of the time could be infuriating. But I also didn't know what I would ever do without him.
