Angel Wings

by alb925

Sophie McConnell wants to start over and forget her past. Putting enough distance between herself and her old life seems like the perfect solution. But even miles away from home, Sophie can't shake the feeling that her past is following her, bringing with it ancient family secrets that even she didn't know about. Will the past destroy her or can Sophie find the courage to face it?

63. Chapter 63

It was a hot day in early July, and I was standing in the middle of the newly renovated building that would serve as my photography gallery and studio.

I turned in a slow circle, admiring everything as I did so. I'd just finished hanging some of my framed photos on one of the walls for display. It had been the final finishing touch to complete the space. Everything else was done.

Fred had been true to his word-better than true, to be honest-about helping me finalize everything. He'd helped me take out a loan, helped me understand some of the paperwork I was signing, and even handed me a quill himself so that I actually could sign it. I could still see the grin on his face as he pulled the quill out, held it out to me, and said, "Sign away, love."

And then after that, he rallied what seemed to be everyone we knew to help make anything and everything I envisioned come to life. He prompted me about what I wanted to sell and where I wanted to display everything. He put me entirely in control, and then he made everything I wanted actually happen. He and George had already gone through the process of starting and running their own businesss, so he already knew quite a bit about getting started. But I surprised myself as well with how quickly and readily my answers to his questions came. I knew exactly what I wanted and Fred knew how to get me there.

"You know, when you said things we're going to move quickly," I told him as I gazed around the room, "I'm not sure I realized just how quickly that would be."

I stopped spinning and turned to look at Fred, who was standing at the register, leaning against the counter with his arms leisurely crossed over his chest as he watched me.

"You should know me by now," he said quietly, a smile turning up one corner of his mouth. "I move fast."

"I do know you, and yet everything still seemed to move in double time." I took in a slow breath. "It looks beautiful in here."

"It does," Fred agreed. "And it's all yours."

I grinned. "It is. And I can't wait to finally be open for business officially."

Opening day was still a week away, and while I was certainly excited--very excited-there was a part of me that was glad for the time in between now and then to rest after all the hard work I'd just put in and to prepare myself for what was to come.

That night, there was going to be a celebratory party at the Burrow in my honor-at the insistence of Mrs. Weasley, Martha, and even Rachel. I'd attempted to protest, but they didn't listen to a word I'd said. I couldn't say I was surprised, though.

"Do you think people will buy anything?" I asked Fred, frowning in thought as I was suddenly hit with a wave of nerves. "You think people will even come inside? Or what if they do but I drive them away? What if I clam up and can't speak?"

Fred laughed and pushed off the counter. He came to stand in front of me and rested a hand on each of my upper arms as he quickly kissed my forehead. "They'll be flooding inside in droves. Trust me. And you will be fine. You'll handle them well."

"Bullshit," I laughed. "I doubt they'll come in droves."

"People are still going to come inside. And of course people will buy something. We already know people like your photos from when you were selling them at the Leaky Cauldron."

I nodded and took in a deep breath. "You're right."

"And look how much better you've gotten with waitressing," Fred pointed out. "You're not chasing customers away from Tom and Martha's business, are you? You're not claming up at all. Not anymore."

I nodded once more. "Good point," I said quietly.

Fred took my face in his hands and kissed me. He pulled away briefly and whispered, "You're going to be just fine, Soph," before going back in for another kiss. His arms went to my waist as he leaned into me, dipping me back just slightly.

We were interrupted by a sudden, sharp knocking sound at the front window. I jumped and broke away, turning to look over my shoulder as much as I could with Fred's arms still around me. Through the window, I saw Tom standing there, staring at Fred and I with raised eyebrows. Kayla was beside him, holding a few shopping bags and making suggestive faces from over Tom's shoulder.

"Merlin's beard," I muttered, rolling my eyes at Kayla before breaking away from Fred and going to pull open the door. "Hi, Tom, hi Kayla," I said, stepping aside to let them in. It was then I noticed that Tom was holding a vase that contained a large, beautiful arrangement of flowers in various colors.

Tom immediately made his way to the counter where the register was and set the vase down before turning back to me.

"It's bad for business, you know," he said, "to be kissing like that where anyone could see you."

"You sound like Kayla," I commented, raising my eyebrows at him as I glanced at Kayla. "Besides, the shop isn't even open for business yet."

"The shop may not be, but it certainly looks like you are," Kayla muttered under her breath.

I shot her a look as Fred laughed. He quickly disguised it as a cough once Tom shot him a look of his own.

"Are these for me?" I asked, quickly changing the subject as I walked over to examine the vase of flowers on the counter.

"Well, they're certainly not for Fred," Tom said. He was still sizing Fred up, a warning look on his face as if daring him to laugh again or make one out of place comment.

"Damn, that's disappointing," Fred said dryly.

I turned and gently nudged him before turning back to the flowers. I reached out to touch a petal of a bright yellow tulip nestled in the bouquet, a smile lighting up my face as I turned back to Tom.

"Thanks, Tom," I said. "They're beautiful. I'll have to thank Martha later as well."

Tom cleared his throat. "Martha-well, she doesn't know about them."

I blinked at him. "She doesn't?"

"I-uh-I was on my way past the florist, and I thought-well, I just thought..." Tom said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Ah, well, I may not have told her about them, but the sentiment from her is still there, so these flowers are just as much from her as they are from me."

I laughed. "You can try to backtrack all you want, but you've already given yourself away. The flowers were your idea." I grinned and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you. They're lovely."

"You deserve them," Tom said adamantly. "You deserve all of this." He gestured around the shop. He cleared his throat again. "Martha and I are very proud of you."

I smiled. "Thanks, Tom. That means a lot."

Tom turned to Fred. "And I know you had a pretty big hand in making all of this happen." He stuck out a hand for Fred to shake. "So...thank you."

Fred grinned as he shook Tom's hand. "It was nothing. Honestly. Besides, you did a lot of work as well."

"You did," I agreed. "You and Martha both-and while running a pub at the same time. Everyone did so much."

"Okay, let's save the sappy thank you speech," Kayla interrupted loudly, stepping around Tom and thrusting one of the bags in her hands at me. "This is from Rachel. Clothes for tonight."

"Is she serious?" I asked, looking at Kayla in exasperation. "I have clothes! And she can't complain about what they look like or how they fit me anymore either, because she helped me pick out most of what's now in my closet."

"She wanted to give you something for tonight especially," Kayla said.

"But tonight's not supposed to be a big deal," I protested. "I don't need anything special."

"According to Rachel, you do," Kayla said. "Just stop arguing and make sure you wear it later." She looked at Fred. "Force her into it if you have to."

Fred took the bag from me and looked inside. "That shouldn't be a problem," he said with a smile. He reached into the bag and pulled out a yellow sundress. It had shoulder straps-thin ones, but straps nonetheless-and the back of it was open enough where my scars would be visible.

I let out a scoff and rolled my eyes. "If I had a Galleon for every dress that Rachel's given me since Ginny's wedding that would show off my scars..."

"You'd be the wealthiest woman in the country," Fred said, leaning in to kiss my temple. He pulled back and held up the dress to examine it better. "I also like the semi-plunging neckline."

"You would," I said dryly. I peered at the dress. "But it's hardly a plunging neckline."

"It's a little bit plunging," Fred said, tracing a finger over the edge of the fabric of the neckline, making a falling sound effect as his finger dipped slightly with the line of the fabric. "I mean, it's not straight. Hence, why I used the word semi."

"It's modestly plunging," Kayla said. "Rachel's words. She said she would have picked a less modest one if you weren't going to be around family."

"How considerate," I scoffed.

"Truly," Tom said with a roll of his eyes. "Remind me to thank her later, will you?" He examined the dress and plucked at one of the thin shoulder straps before glancing at me. "You should wear a sweater over this."

"Oh, Merlin," I said with a half-groan, half-laugh as Kayla made a noise of disgust and wrinkled her nose.

"Are you trying to ship Sophie off to a convent?" She asked.

"I'm not trying to ship her anywhere," Tom said, frowning at Kayla. "I'm just...concerned she'll be cold."

"Sure," Kayla muttered. "In July."

"Don't worry, Tom," Fred said with a grin, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I'll keep her warm."

Tom shot Fred a look before letting out a long sigh. "I'd better get back to Martha," he said, rubbing his temples. "Or else the next time Weasley opens his mouth, my blood pressure will skyrocket."

"You mean it hasn't already?" I asked teasingly.

"It's getting there," Tom muttered.

"I do have that effect on people," Fred commented lightly, shrugging his shoulders.

Tom rolled his eyes before turning to me. "I'll see you later at the Burrow, yeah?" He smiled as he put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

I nodded. "See you there."

Tom nodded once in satisfaction, and with a goodbye to Fred and Kayla, he headed for the door. Once he was gone, Kayla turned to me.

"Do not wear a sweater with that dress," she demanded. "No matter what Tom said."

I laughed. "Don't worry, I didn't plan on wearing one."

"Rachel will kill you if you do," Kayla said. "And I probably wouldn't stop her."

"Thanks," I commented with a roll of my eyes.

"I mean it," Kayla said. "No sweater."

"As you said, it's July," I answered. "I won't be wearing a sweater."

"The old Sophie would have worn a sweater inside an oven if it meant covering up your scars. But it's good to hear you've changed," Kayla beamed. She turned for the door and wiggled her fingers at me. "I'll see your beautiful, sweater-less self later," she chirped. And then she was gone.

"I don't think she wants you to wear a sweater," Fred said lightly, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. "What do you think?"

I giggled. "I don't know, she wasn't all that clear."

Fred let out a laugh of his own before picking up the vase of flowers with one hand and stretching his free hand out for me to take. "Come on," he said. "Let's go home. I'll make you some tea, then you can put on your new dress-with no sweater-and we'll head over to the Burrow."

I nodded and took one last look around the room, committing to memory the way it looked now-newly finished and ready to take on the world. Well, maybe more accurately, just London. But for me, that was more than okay.

"Thanks for all you did," I said, turning back to Fred. "I mean it. None of this would have happened without you."

"I'm not sure that's true, but I appreciate the gratitude," Fred said, nudging my arm. "Now, seriously, let's go. These flowers are getting heavy."

I let out a scoff of laughter and reached out for his hand. He led me outside of the shop and we locked the door before Apparating back to the flat.

Fred set my flowers down on the kitchen table and began making us each a mug of tea while I made myself comfortable on the couch. I fiddled with the pendant of the necklace I was wearing-the one Fred had given me on my birthday last year-as I stared up at the photo above the mantle. The photo that I had taken. And, in fact, my very first sale.

I took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. Every so often, I was struck with a sense of amazement that Fred had always seen so much in me at a time when I saw next to nothing in myself. While I'd hated him at times for pushing me to do things I was too afraid or uncomfortable to do, it was because of him that I was in the position I was in now. Him and so many others. But he had always been the one to push me the most. To the point of anger sometimes, but I'd come out the other side better for it.

Fred returned just then with two mugs of steaming tea.

"Thanks," I whispered, taking the mug he held out to me and cradling it in my hands as Fred took a seat beside me.

"You look exhausted," he commented. A half-smile lit up his face. "Are you sure you don't want to skip the party tonight entirely? We can just stay here. Just you and me. We can play some wizard's chess-strip chess if you're up for it-and then go to bed early."

I snorted with laughter. "Please, Fred," I scoffed. "We both know that by go to bed, you don't mean sleep. Especially if you're suggesting strip chess beforehand."

"And?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling at me over his mug of tea. "So what?"

The corners of my mouth turned up in a slight smile. "As tempting as you make it all sound, we should go to the party."

"Hold on-the silent hermit is actually suggesting we go to a party and socialize? The people-hating, antisocial, quiet as a mouse loner is suggesting-"

"Shut up!" I laughed, swatting him as he flinched away, a laugh bubbling from his own lips as well. "Everyone put so much work into planning it," I said. "It would be rude to not show up. Rachel even got me that dress with the modestly plunging neckline and the open back." I rolled my eyes and smiled.

"That is true," Fred admitted. "Okay, how about this?" He tucked one leg under him as he excitedly angled his body towards me. "You put that dress on, I'll completely admire your beauty while we make an appearance at the Burrow. After that, we'll come home, play some strip chess, and the night will end with you removing the dress. I'll even do it for you, if you'd like."

I laughed. "So, if you're to get your way, this night is going to end in strip chess no matter what."

Fred nodded. "How does all of that sound to you?"

I tilted my head from side to side as I considered what he'd said. "You'll behave yourself the entire time we're at the Burrow?" I asked.

The corners of Fred's mouth twitched slightly. "Mostly," he agreed.

I rolled my eyes. "I suppose that's better than nothing," I sighed. I rested my elbow on the back of the couch and propped my head on my hand as I gazed over at Fred. "Fine," I agreed. "You behave yourself at the Burrow, and-"

"Mostly," Fred added. "I'll mostly behave myself."

"Whatever," I scoffed. "You behave yourself and we'll come home and play strip chess. But when I say behave, Fred, I mean that you can't do anything that'll send Tom into cardiac arrest."

"So, in other words," Fred smirked, "whenever Tom's in the vicinity, I have to look anywhere but at you and my hands have to be tied behind my back."

"Don't be dramatic," I said. "You can look at me and touch me-but within reason. Because, quite honestly, if you kill the man, I'd never forgive you."

"Fair enough," Fred agreed.

"Of course it's fair!" I laughed. "I'd also never forgive him if he killed you, so it's really in your best interest to just behave."

"I'd never forgive him if he killed me either," Fred said with a grin. "I'm far too handsome to die. Even Percy agreed with me on that and we would never agree on anything."

I studied him seriously for a moment. I never knew quite how to react to Fred joking about what had happened with Percy. We both knew it wasn't really to be funny or to poke fun at what had happened. It was more of a coping mechanism. Fred's usual coping mechanism. So, in a way, him making a joke was a good sign. It was him coping in his usual way-and it was a far better way than what he had been doing previously. But on the other hand, it still was an odd thing to hear, and it wasn't something I thought elicited a laugh or even a smile.

"It's okay, you can laugh," Fred said with a wry smile as he finished off his tea.

"I'm not going to laugh, Fred. It's not funny."

"Even a nervous chuckle would be better than you staring at me like that."

"Like what?" I asked quietly.

"Just...so seriously. As if you're studying me to make sure I'm not going to explode after bringing Percy up. You know more than anyone how I hate those looks."

"Fair," I commented, taking the final sip of my own tea and lowering the mug into my lap as I stared down into it. Finally, I looked up at Fred with a half smile. "Why don't you tell me something about Percy that's actually funny instead? A funny memory or something."

"I think you know most of them by now," Fred said, leaning back into the couch cushions and staring up at the ceiling in thought. "That's the other thing about him being dead-the memories become old, untold stories run out and they all eventually become repeats."

"Then tell me a repeat," I said, "and I'll laugh like it's the first time."

Fred turned his head, the back of it rolling against the cushion as he looked at me, a soft smile on his face as he studied me for a moment. Finally, he nodded. "Okay-I might actually have a partially new one."

"Ooh, do tell," I said, setting my empty mug down and turning towards him in interest.

"You remember that I told you about the Quidditch World Cup-how we camped out there before the match?"

"I do remember," I nodded.

"We spent the whole morning and afternoon outside the tent and I told you the story of how Percy's boss met us as he was passing by? Barty Crouch?"

I nodded again. "And he called Percy 'Weatherby'."

Fred laughed. "He couldn't even get Percy's name right! And Percy had been working for him for months at this point! This man knew Dad as well and still couldn't get the name right. Anyway, it was worse-or funnier, in my and George's minds-because Percy actually worked directly for him and idolized this man. Completely worshipped the ground he walked on. So getting to hear him be called the wrong name was like Christmas Day had come early for me and George. We would not stop calling him Weatherby. This went on for months. Until a few weeks before Christmas. We let Percy believe we'd stopped and that we'd forgotten about it. Or at the very least let the joke grow old. But-and this is the part I haven't told you-George and I-we-we-"

Fred began to laugh just then, hard enough that he had to stop talking.

"Come on, spit it out," I giggled. "I could use a laugh, too."

Fred took in a long breath and let it out slowly, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

"For Christmas," he began, "George and I got the entire family these shirts-special made. They were nice, too. Long sleeved, Gryffindor colors, with a little lion-the symbol of Gryffindor-on the front. Just about here..." He pointed to a spot on the left side of his chest. He grinned and looked back up at me. "On the back, they all said Weasley. You know, like a sports jersey would. They all said Weasley, except Percy's. His said-"

"Weatherby," I giggled.

"Exactly," Fred said, still smiling. "The look on his face was funnier than anything. Funnier than the actual joke. It was the Christmas where George, Ron, Ginny and I stayed at school for the Yule Ball, but as luck would have it, Percy was there too. He'd had to take over some of Barty Crouch's duties at the time, so he was at Hogwarts for the ball and the Triwizard Tournament. And George and I got to see him open his extremely lovely personalized gift."

"What happened to the shirt?" I asked. "There's no way he would have actually worn it."

Fred shrugged. "Mum ended up fixing the shirt to say Weasley, no matter how much George and I protested and tried to get her to leave it. But that initial reaction from Percy was great. He'd thought the joke had passed, but he really should have known better. In fact, that Christmas gift started the joke up again and the whole family, except for Mum, started calling him Weatherby again. Even Dad slipped up once or twice, which infuriated both Percy and Mum the most." He shook his head as he finished the story and fell quiet. After a moment, he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Sometimes I wonder if that was the beginning of the end, though."

"What do you mean?"

Fred turned his head to look at me again. "The teasing-Percy knew to expect it from George and I, and even from our other siblings. But all at once, and constantly too at what may not have been the best time. We were poking fun at how his boss couldn't remember something as basic as his name. And then Dad even joining in-however unintentional." Fred shrugged. "I wonder if it all put too much strain on him, in addition to what happened to Barty Crouch. The man was being controlled by Voldemort and Percy didn't realize anything was off or even report any of it. He was questioned about it. And the following summer he ended up getting that promotion and the argument broke out between him and Dad."

"So now, what, you're also going to blame yourself for Percy walking out on your family?" I asked with a slight frown.

Fred looked at me in surprise, looking almost taken aback that I'd asked him so bluntly. "No, I-it's just some of the thoughts that crash around in my head, you know?"

"Maybe you should give some responsibility to Percy for his own actions," I said.

Fred raised his eyebrows and shot me a look as if to say go on, explain. So I did.

"Percy wasn't actually perfect, Fred. You know that, don't you? No matter how much you may have teased him for being a perfect Prefect, he made some bad choices too. He is the one who walked out. He is the one who consciously made that choice. And you said he made some pretty nasty accusations towards your dad, didn't you? You said he told your dad that he had no ambition and that was why your family was so poor?"

"Yeah, he did say that," Fred muttered.

"And he shouldn't have. He may have had some pent up anger and resentment, sure, and maybe you and George weren't helping matters with your pranks, and maybe he did feel a bit ganged up on. But he still said some awful things and he still made a choice to leave when he could have made different choices."

"Like what?"

I smiled slightly. "You know, I never knew Percy, but I know you, Fred. And you're not the best communicator either. You feel anger first and can't think or speak rationally until you calm down. So, if Percy is anything like you, then he got mad, acted on that anger, and made a choice. He didn't have to leave. He didn't have to completely sever all ties with you. He chose to. He eventually saw reason, but it was tough to come back and undo that choice he made at that point. The choice he made most likely, for the most part anyway, out of pure anger. And then, even though it was hard, he still chose to come back and he chose to save your life and put you first that night during the battle. He made some bad choices and some good choices, but they were all his choices, Fred. He was a competent adult and fully capable of making them, too. You can't blame yourself for every choice he made."

Fred was silent as he stared straight ahead, thinking that over. "I've never thought of it that way," he finally whispered.

I smiled and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I'm going to go get ready for the party now," I said quietly. "Thanks for the tea."

Fred nodded, but I could tell he was still lost in thought as I stood up and headed down the hallway towards the bedroom.

---

It had been nearly three weeks since Flashes of Life had opened to the public and it still felt as if I were living in a dream.

The first week especially had felt entirely surreal, but awkward at the same time. Despite all the advice Fred and George-and even Tom and Martha-had given me on running a business, I still felt like I had been bumbling around with absolutely no idea what I was doing. I still felt a bit that way now, but I also felt that I was slowly getting the hang of things.

I had hired two employees to help me run things as well, and also help keep things in order on the days I was traveling and taking photos.

One of the girls, Nina, was a year younger than me and was the sister of someone who worked with Hermione, who had been the one to tell Nina that I was hiring. Bridget was my age and actually had the most experience when it came to photography. She'd been an assistant for a photographer who solely did weddings. However, this woman was, apparently-in Bridget's words-"a royal snob." So that, in the end, had led to Bridget quitting.

Fred, who I'd allowed to sit in on Bridget's interview with me while he was on his lunch break (perhaps a lapse in judgement on my part) had nearly choked on his food at the royal snob comment. He was too far away for me to give him a surreptitious kick in the shin, so I gave him a brief glare instead before turning back to Bridget.

"Wow," I said, clearing my throat, unsure just exactly of what to say.

"That's not going to prevent me from getting hired with you, is it?" Bridget asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The fact that you just called your previous boss a royal snob?" I'd asked, looking at her in slight amusement with raised eyebrows of my own. "I mean...how do I know you're not going to call me a royal snob? Or worse?"

"Are you a royal snob?" Bridget asked.

My mouth almost fell open as Fred snorted with laughter from behind me. "Oh, believe me, she's the snobbiest."

I turned in my chair and shot him a look-an obvious one this time-my lips pursed tightly together and my eyes narrowed.

Fred looked at Bridget as he popped a cucumber slice into his mouth. "Did you see the look she just gave me? Like I said-snobby."

Bridget turned back to me. "Sorry-I realize I probably shouldn't have asked you that. At least not so directly. But look at it this way-it's also beneficial to me to know what kind of boss you'll be. Especially after my last job, I really don't want either one of us to be wasting our time."

"And you thought the best way to figure that out was by directly asking me if I was a royal snob?"

Bridget shrugged. "I admitted I shouldn't have asked you in that way. I've been told I have a tendency to cut to the chase and also say what I'm thinking without thinking."

I chanced a glance at Fred, who was now peeling an orange and trying-abysmally, at that-to hide his laughter. I could see his grin, as well as his shoulders shaking.

"Sounds like someone else I know," I said, flinching slightly in disgust as Fred tossed his orange rind at my head.

"Listen, as long as you're good to me, I'll be good to you," Bridget said. "I'm a great worker, I'm responsible, I'm honest and loyal...I have experience related to the job. I just like to be treated with respect, you know? Like most people do. I wasn't getting that at my last job. At all. My time and my effort weren't valued in the least."

"Okay," I'd said, nodding and glancing at Fred. "I think that's understandable."

Initially, after the interview, I'd been a little hesitant to hire her. Naturally. I spent a part of the evening after work lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling as I weighed the pros and cons of hiring Bridget.

"Is her lack of a mental filter going to prevent her from doing an adequate job?" I'd asked Fred. "Or is she going to somehow insult a customer?"

"She said she's a good worker and responsible," Fred pointed out, lifting my feet off of one end of the couch and sitting down, placing my feet in his lap.

"Yeah, wouldn't she say that about herself, though?" I asked. "Doesn't mean it has to be true."

"You said she reminded you of me," Fred said. "And I can hold a job."

"You're the owner of your own business. No one's going to fire you."

"George might," Fred snorted. "He's threatened to at least once every three months since we opened the shop, which is about how often I threaten to fire him as well. Besides, my point is that I'm also still very good with the customers. No insulting. If I'm not good with the customers, I stop getting business."

"But again, you own your business. Bridget doesn't have anything to lose if she's mean to customers."

"Well, she could lose her job," Fred pointed out.

I considered that before letting out a sigh. "True."

"And look at Kayla," Fred went on. "She's blunt, but when she's waitressing, she's phenomenal. Everyone likes her. The only customers she really ever insults are you and me. And that's only because she knows us."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't stop the laugh that came out of my mouth.

"Also," Fred went on, "if Bridget reminds you of me, you must actually like her, because you like me."

"I'm not looking to hire you, though," I said. "It's very different."

"Is it really?" Fred asked. "You're actually marrying me. You're committing to an entire life with me. Hiring a new employee is much less binding."

"I guess you're right," I said slowly. "It's just-I want people to like my business, not be scared away by one of my own employees."

"Well, you're the royal snob, so maybe you shouldn't talk," Fred joked as I lifted my foot and poked him in the chest. "I liked her," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders. He caught my foot in his hand and began massaging it, his thumbs gently digging into the arch.

"You would," I laughed. Then, I let out a sigh and gestured towards my foot with my chin. "And that feels amazing, by the way."

Fred smiled. "Let this be proof of how much I love you-I'm putting up with the nastiest smell in order to ensure your comfort."

"My feet do not smell!" I protested. I tried to use my other foot to lightly nudge Fred's arm, but he quickly intercepted it, catching me by the ankle and laughing as he shook his head.

"I could start tickling your feet instead of massaging them if you're going to be like that."

"Don't you dare-I'll end up kicking you in the face. Unintentionally, of course, but it'll still happen." I smiled at him sweetly. "I just may end up accidentally breaking your perfect and handsome nose."

"Ooh, good point," Fred replied, nodding in agreement. He dropped my feet back to his lap. "We can't have that." He shifted on the couch so he was holding himself up on all fours above me. "You really think my nose is perfect?" he asked with a grin. "Or were you just bullshitting me?"

I smiled softly up at him as I reached up and ran my fingertips down the bridge of his nose. "No bullshit," I said as I lowered my hand. "You do have a handsome nose."

Fred grinned. "And you have a cute one," he said, lowering his head and lightly brushing the tip of his nose against mine. He pressed a quick kiss to my lips before pulling away and standing up, reaching out to help me stand up as well. "Don't stress about whether or not you should hire Bridget, okay? Just go with your gut. Sleep on it, and then decide in the morning. Sound good?"

I nodded. "It does."

In the end, I'd hired Bridget, after contacting her previous boss for a reference. She'd given a great one, too, which was encouraging. It at least let me know that whatever issues Bridget had with the woman, she'd managed to keep any rude remarks to herself-or at least she hadn't said anything directly to her boss. Whoever else she may have talked to remained a mystery.

Now, it was nearing the end of July, and I had no regrets about any of the choices I'd made opening my own business-including hiring Bridget. She had turned out to be a very good worker, despite her blunt honesty. And she did have experience, which was a plus. In addition, she'd told me flat out that she liked me a lot better than her previous boss.

"You're actually cool," she'd said. "And also not uptight."

On this particular day, I was in the office space with the door open slightly, giving me a view into the main area of the shop. I was sorting through the newly developed photos that had just come in from the previous weekend's trip to Ireland with Ginny and Luna, trying to weed out the best ones to enlarge and display out in the shop for sale.

The bell over the front door of my shop jingled to signal that someone had entered. It was lunchtime-noon on the dot-so I knew exactly who it was. I was so sure of who had just came inside that I didn't even have to look up from what I was doing.

I heard the sound of low voices before there was a knock at the office door and Nina stuck her head in. "Fred's here," she announced. "He said you were going to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch today instead of staying in?"

I nodded as I held two of the prints I'd been looking at out in front of me, studying them intently. "I figured it was him. I'll be right out." I tilted my head to one side and then to the other. "Hey, Neen? Which one do you like better?" I turned the prints around so she could see them as she stepped closer to examine them.

They were both essentially the same shot-taken from the top of the Cliffs of Moher. The only differences were the angles of each shot and that one was taken during the day-the bright blue sky and clear blue water a contrast to the bright green of the cliffs-and the other was taken at sunset, the sky filled this time with swirls of pink and gold that mixed with the thin layer of clouds.

"Why not both?" Nina asked.

I shrugged. "I suppose there's no real reason not to sell both. I just wanted to narrow down all my photos from Ireland to the best one. And I also don't want to get too repetitive and have multiple photos of the same thing for sale."

"You don't typically do that anyway," Nina said. "You have a lot of variety as it is. Having a few photos of the same thing a few times won't kill you or your business. Besides, they're both equally beautiful and they're also both different enough. They're of the same locations, but at completely different times of day, which makes them very different photos. And that one change could be what makes a difference in a sale. One person may go for the sunset option, but another might like the vivid colors of the daytime shot."

I thought about that. "Good point," I said with a nod, looking up at her with a smile. "Thanks."

"Sure, anytime," she answered.

Just then, Bridget appeared in the doorway. "Sophie, how long are you planning on keeping lover boy waiting out there? He's about to starve to death, from the sound of his stomach. It's been growling so much, I think he needs to buy it a muzzle."

"He's always starving," I sighed. But I set the photo prints back down on the desk and stood up, hesitating as I looked at Bridget. "Just out of curiosity," I began, pointing to the two prints. "Which one do you like? The left one, the right one, or both equally?"

"If you're asking me which one I'd buy, I'd say the left," Bridget said, pointing to the daylight photo. "Personally. But if you're asking me which one I think you should sell, I say both. I mean, why not?"

"That's what I said, too," Nina chimed in. "Essentially."

Bridget snorted. "Same answer, but yours most likely included a very well thought out reason why it was your answer."

"Exactly," Nina nodded.

"Okay-good to know," I said with a smile. "Thanks-both of you."

"All in a day's work," Bridget said, waving her hand dismissively. "Now, go tend to your man before he faints from hunger."

I smiled, stepping away from my desk and heading past them, out into the shop, where Fred was waiting, standing over by a group of my more recent photos that had just gone up in the shop a week ago.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, the moment he spotted me. "What took you so long?"

"Couldn't decide between two of my Ireland prints," I said with a shrug.

"Ah," Fred answered, making his way towards me. "You're going to bring them home later?" He leaned down and quickly kissed me.

"You know I always do."

It was true. No matter what, I always brought all of my newly developed prints home to show Fred. He was never shy about telling me which ones he liked the best, either. I rarely ever had to ask before he'd offer me every single thought he had about every single print. I'd have to be sure to get his opinion on the two I'd been stuck on. I wondered if he'd agree with Bridget and Nina or if he'd have a completely different opinion. Usually, I found it could go either way, so I was always surprised.

Fred and I headed out for lunch a minute later, after I'd said goodbye to the girls and reminded them I'd be back in about an hour.

We made it to the Leaky Cauldron and I was only able to stick my head in the kitchen to wave at Martha and Kyle and then wave at Tom, who was in his usual spot at the bar. It was busy today, but Fred and I still managed to snag our favorite table, right by the front window.

"Okay, so don't hate me," Fred said as we sat down.

I looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "Why? What did you do?"

"I didn't exactly do anything!"

"You did. You did do something," I insisted. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have told me not to hate you."

"Okay, fine," Fred admitted. "But it's not a big deal."

"If it's not a big deal, why do you think I'm going to hate you?" I fired back.

"I may have agreed to something on your behalf. Volunteered us both for something is more like it, actually."

I raised my eyebrows and folded my arms on the tabletop as I stared at Fred expectantly. "Get on with it, then," I said.

Fred cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Martha stopped by the table with two butterbeers that she set down in front of me and Fred.

"How are you, dear?" She asked, swiftly leaning down to kiss my forehead. "Busy?"

"A bit," I admitted. I broke into a grin. "But don't worry, I'm always able to make time to come see you."

"Glad to hear it," Martha said, running a hand over the top of my head and down to my cheek as she beamed. She turned to Fred. "And what about you? I expect you're busy as well and that you'll only be getting busier in the weeks leading up to September first."

"Nothing George and I can't handle," Fred said with a smile as he pulled his drink towards him.

"I don't doubt that," Martha laughed, reaching out to affectionately pat Fred's cheek.

She took our lunch orders and the moment she'd disappeared back to the kitchen, I turned to Fred again.

"Okay, tell me. What did you volunteer us for, and why are you giving me the sense that I'm not going to like it?"

"Damn, I'd hoped you'd forgotten by now," Fred muttered.

"Fred, just spit it out already."

He looked over at me and tried to hide his laughter at my impatience. Finally, he sighed and his expression changed to a hopeful one.

"George and I convinced Bill and Fleur to take an anniversary trip the first week of August," he said. "They're going for a whole week and they'll first go to Romania and visit Charlie for three days and have him show them around Romania. And then they're going to France for four days so Fleur can see her family too."

"That sounds great," I said. "They deserve to get away for a bit. Where do we come in, though?"

"Well," Fred said slowly. He took in another breath and said the next sentence in a rush, his words spilling out faster and faster as he spoke. "I promised that we'd watch the kids while they're gone, don't get mad!"

I gaped at him. "Fred!" I gasped. "Why would you promise that without giving me a heads up first? Or, you know, asking me?"

"I figured it was the least we could do after convincing them to even go on the vacation to begin with," he reasoned. "Plus, Vic and Dom are great." He paused. "Except when they're refusing to sleep of course." He noticed my raised eyebrows and added hurriedly, "But Vic's out of that phase now and Dom's getting there."

"This was all your and George's idea. Why aren't George and Katie taking them?"

"You don't want to do it?" Fred asked quietly, tilting his butterbeer glass towards him and staring down into it. "They're going to be your nieces soon, you know."

"Fred, do not play the guilt card right now," I sighed.

"I'm not playing anything," he answered. "I'm being serious."

I was quiet for a moment. "I love Victoire and Dominique," I finally said. "You know that. I know you do. I don't mind watching them for the week. I just would've liked some advance notice before you agreed to this. We both work, Fred. We can't just take on two little kids for a week without talking about it and how we're going to make it work. Besides, I'm getting the feeling that there's another reason you volunteered us for this. Or more specifically, there's really only a reason behind volunteering me. Am I right?"

Fred finally looked up at me, a guilty smile turning up a corner of his mouth. "You sure are smart," he commented. He let out a sigh. "Look, I just thought it would be good for you. To actually spend a week taking care of kids. I know you've begun to warm up to the idea and that your talk with Bill and Fleur really helped. But I also thought some hands on experience would help, too. You can do this, Sophie," he finished in a whisper. "I want to help you see that."

"I don't know," I said slowly. "I mean, I appreciate that, but aren't you worried that to Bill and Fleur it will look like we're just using their kids to just, what, play house for a week?"

"Fleur and Bill need to take a well-deserved vacation," Fred said. "They're just too busy with work and the kids to set it in motion. George and I took care of that for them. And taking the kids helps them too. They didn't want to bring them to Romania, you know? With all the dragons around. They needed someone to watch them and George and I already had a plan. It just happens to help you as well. It has nothing to do with forcing Bill and Fleur into a vacation so we can play house. They need a vacation, I offered to help them and help you at the same time. That's all."

I nodded as I studied him. "Okay," I said.

"Okay?" Fred repeated with a smile. "That's it? You're good with this?"

"I am, but even if I said no, wouldn't you do everything in your power to persuade me anyway?"

"I would, but it's nice to know I don't need to and that you're on board," Fred replied as I laughed harder.

"I'm on board," I repeated. "But like I said, we both work during the week. We have to figure out some sort of schedule."

"Well," Fred began slowly. "I don't know about you, but I'm able to take some time off that week. I could do Monday and Wednesday, and-I don't want to speak for you-but maybe you could do Tuesday and Thursday. And then we could both do Friday and obviously the weekends as well. And luckily, my job is right below where we live, so I could always pop back up if you need anything or run into work yourself for a bit." He shrugged. "We'll figure it out."

I nodded and took in a deep breath. "Okay," I agreed. I looked over at him with an amused smile on my face as I propped my chin in my hand. "You think it'll be safe for me to leave Bridget one-half in charge for a few days?" I asked.

Fred snorted. "She and Nina will handle things. It seems so far like they work well under pressure-they've been there alone for short periods of time before while you've been on photography trips."

"True," I admitted. "And this time I'll be a lot closer in case they do need anything."

Fred nodded. "They'll be fine. It's only for a few days. I doubt anything earth shattering will happen, like them accidentally burning the place down. And I doubt anything that would even stress them out to the point of quitting."

"Don't say that!" I chided him. "Any of it. I would be hysterical if the place burned down. And I don't think I could handle Nina and Bridget quitting. They're so good at their jobs. All of them. I really lucked out in the employee department."

"I'm kidding." Fred reached out and put a hand over mine as he smiled across the table at me. "It'll be fine. They can handle it. And you trust them all, don't you?"

"I do," I nodded.

"And like I said, if you need to go in for a bit for any reason, I'll be right downstairs to be able to come up and cover you. Or you can take the girls with you for a bit if you just need to stop in. It actually might help you make some sales. People love kids."

I laughed. "So now they're a marketing ploy?"

Fred just continued to smile at me before he picked up my hand and kissed my knuckles. He sat back in his chair and continued to smile at me.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I'm just thinking of how much fun we're going to have doing this."

I started to laugh harder. "You're excited now. But just wait until one-or both-of them is crying in the middle of the night. Or until one of them flings baby food all over the walls. Think about it-mashed peas and carrots everywhere."

"It's called abstract art, Sophie, educate yourself," Fred laughed.

"Are you going to think it's abstract art when the baby food gets tossed into your next batch of Fever Fudge?" I teased. "Ruining all that work..." I sighed dramatically.

Fred, however, looked at me thoughtfully. "Now there's an idea," he said. "I wonder what that would even do...."

"Fred...ew." I wrinkled my nose.

He smiled. "Hey, don't knock it 'til we've tried it. You might be on to something with that suggestion. I'll be sure to give you a cut of the profits if you are."

"Merlin's beard, it wasn't a suggestion, Fred," I sighed, resting my head in my hands as Fred laughed and took a sip of his drink.

"You know I'm brilliant," he quipped.

"You are, but it also takes a lot of trial and error to be that brilliant," I pointed out, raising my head to look at him again. "Have you considered that this may be one of the errors?"

"Won't know until I try," Fred shrugged.

"Touché," I responded, a smile turning up the corners of my mouth.

"So...I guess later on we'll figure out a more concrete plan, but does what I suggested sound feasible?" Fred asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, it does."

"Yeah?" Fred asked with a grin.

"Yeah," I agreed with a second nod of my head. "Like you said, we'll figure something out."

Fred grinned wider and pushed himself up from his seat so that he could lean over the table and quickly kiss me. "We will," he assured me as he sat back down. "So, are you ready to be in charge of a two year old and a five month old for a whole week?"

I took in a deep breath before quickly letting it out and nodding my head. "Bring it on," I said with a smile of my own. "We've totally got this."

Fred laughed and held up his hand for a high five. "Yeah! That's what I like to hear!"

I laughed too, and gave him a high five back. "But the first smelly diaper is all you," I declared, laughing even harder as Fred's face fell and he wrinkled his nose.

"Damnit," he muttered. But then he looked up at me with a determined look on his face. "You know what? Fine. I'll do it. To show you it's not that terrifying after all, having kids."

"Oh, how noble, Fred, thank you," I gushed, rolling my eyes. "You're my hero."

"Stop bullshitting me, Soph," he snorted, a slight smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

I smiled over at him as I let out a quiet breath of laughter. "I mean, you are kind of my hero, but not for that reason. Besides...dirty diapers are the least of what I'm worried about."

"I know," Fred said quietly, gazing over at me with his chin in his hand. "But, as I've said, I've seen you with Vic and Dom before. You're good with them."

I nodded. "You are, too, you know."

"I do know," Fred responded. "I am their favorite uncle after all."

I laughed. "What happens when they can finally speak for themselves and you find out their favorite uncle isn't you?"

"But it is," Fred insisted. "I make them laugh the most."

"More than George?" I asked.

Fred nodded. "Way more. George makes them cry, actually. And Ron really makes them cry. Just by existing, actually."

"Oh, please," I groaned. "That's not true."

"Maybe you're right," Fred admitted. He smirked. "Maybe he makes me and George cry just by existing."

"If you teach your very sweet nieces to be this snarky to Ron..."

"That's exactly what I'm going to teach them," Fred chuckled. "I plan to start that lesson right after I teach them how to say every bit of foul language I know. Starting with my personal favorites: fuck, shit, and bloody hell.

"Bill and Fleur will kill you!" I said with a laugh.

"They can't kill the favorite uncle," Fred said arrogantly with a shrug of his shoulder.

I scoffed and let out another laugh. "Sure, Fred, whatever helps you sleep at night."

"You're a real jerk sometimes," Fred laughed. "In fact, I think your comment calls for a well-deserved rude hand gesture."

"Not here," I said, widening my eyes in disbelief.

Fred simply smirked at me as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He simply stared at me for a moment before lifting one arm away from his chest and slowly flipping me off. He was discreet about it, but somehow, it still went noticed by Tom, who was over at the bar.

"Weasley!" we heard him shout. "If I saw what I thought I just saw-"

"You didn't, Tom," Fred called back. "You saw nothing."

"You'd better hope not," Tom answered.

Fred gave me a look of disbelief as I laughed. "And yet," he said under his breath, "he didn't hear any of your sarcastic comments."

"Of course I heard them," Tom called over. "I just didn't see a problem with them."

Now I was really laughing as Fred gaped at Tom. "How are your ears that good? That's impressive even for someone who doesn't complain daily about getting old."

"When it comes to you, my senses are excellent," Tom said. "I have to keep you in line."

"Merlin," Fred muttered.

I laughed. I knew Tom was mostly being this way out of jest. Giving Fred a hard time for the fun of annoying him and trying to make him uncomfortable. Not that making him uncomfortable always worked-that took a lot. But he did usually get annoyed pretty easily, which Tom found hilarious. They were both quick-witted, and sometimes their banter could go back and forth for a while, leaving me ready to pull my hair out after a bit, once I was tired of hearing them go at it.

"Is he bothering you again?" Martha asked with a slight smile as she brought us our food and set it on the table in front of us.

"Who, Tom? A bother?" Fred asked, glancing over at Tom, who narrowed his eyes. "Never."

"Damn straight," Tom said.

"Swearing isn't professional, Tom," Fred chided. "Keep it family friendly."

Tom guffawed. "You're one to talk. Mr. I'm-Going-To-Teach-My-Nieces-Foul-Language."

"I'll tell him to leave you two alone so you can eat," Martha told us in a low voice, sending a wink in our direction. "You don't need to spend your entire lunch hour with him pestering you."

"Damn straight," Fred said, looking at Tom challengingly.

"Language, Weasley," Tom warned, narrowing his eyes again and somehow making the action of uncapping a firewhiskey look threatening.

"Thomas O'Reilly, you leave him alone," Martha said as she walked back across the pub towards Tom. She continued to scold him as he continued to protest, but Fred and I weren't listening anymore.

"I'd apologize on his behalf," I said, "but you and I both know he's not entirely serious. Plus, I think you even sort of enjoy going back and forth with him."

Fred shrugged and took a bite of his food. "It's all in good fun. It keeps me on my toes, actually. And like you said, he's not entirely serious. He's protective of you, but he also does genuinely like me."

I smiled. "He and I have that in common-the genuinely liking you part, that is."

Fred smiled back at me across the table, studying me as he slowly finished chewing. "Even when I volunteer you to play house without asking you first?"

I couldn't help the laugh that came out of my mouth. "Even then," I assured him. "Lucky you."

---

I had thought that no one would object to the idea of Bill and Fleur taking a vacation. I had not, however, taken into account how their own children would feel about being away from their parents for even a moment.

I hadn't thought about it until Bill and Fleur came by the flat the morning of the first day of their trip so that they could drop the girls off with me and Fred. Everything went okay for a bit, until after Bill and Fleur had gone over each child's schedule (that Fleur had even written down for us), and given us all the information that we could possibly need to know. Then, Fleur had kissed Victoire goodbye, said she loved her, and begun to pass her to me. And that was when all hell broke loose.

Victoire began to cry and try to cling to her mother as I tried to awkwardly continue to take her from Fleur.

"It's okay, she'll calm down in a bit," Fleur assured me, an apologetic expression on her face as she slid her arms from Victoire's grasp and smoothed her hair. Victoire continued to scream and reach out for Fleur, almost wriggling out of my grasp. I felt awful, but I was more afraid of her falling out of my arms, so I squatted down and set the distraught toddler's feet on the ground, while gently trying to comfort her.

Meanwhile, Bill had handed a then-quiet Dominique to Fred. But as her sister's cries got louder, Dominque began to get fussy. And a moment later, her own cries were at an all time high as well.

"We're so sorry," Bill said sincerely, his voice loud to be heard over the screaming. "But they'll be okay. And it's probably best if we just go instead of lingering much longer-rip off the bandage, you know? Hanging around and drawing it out will only make it worse, believe me." He glanced at Fleur, who suddenly looked nervous, and kissed her temple. "Come on. It'll be okay."

"Go on," Fred said, raising his own voice over the noise. He winced as Victoire let out a particularly loud cry. "Have fun. They'll calm down in a moment, like you said. They'll be fine. They just really love you quite a bit." He looked at Bill and smiled wryly. "Can't imagine why."

Bill rolled his eyes before giving us a sympathetic smile and leading Fleur towards the door. "Write if you need anything. Seriously. Anything."

"We've got it," Fred said, wincing as Dominique let out a particularly loud cry. "Now get out of here. We'll see you in a week."

Bill and Fleur said a few more goodbyes to Victoire and Dominique before disappearing from the flat. I released Victoire and she ran for the door, pressing her hands to it as she wailed, her face now a deep red and streaked with tears.

I grabbed a teddy bear that Fleur had said was Vic's favorite and went over to her, squatting down beside her and offering up the bear. "Look, want your teddy?" I asked, wiggling the bear back and forth.

Vic only screamed louder.

I tried to reach for her, but she swatted me away and screamed even louder.

"Bloody hell," Fred fumed from across the room as he gently bounced a crying Dominique in his arms. "We need to get Vic to stop throwing a fit. She's upsetting Dominique."

"I know that, Fred," I snapped. He raised his eyebrows and I gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry. I know. I'm trying."

"Try something else," Fred answered. I could hear the stress and tension in his voice, letting me know the constant sound of two screaming children, as well as the panic of not being able to get them to stop, was getting to him as well.

"You could try, too, you know."

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He gestured with his head to the baby in his arms as he continued to bounce her.

"I meant with Vic." I glared at him in frustration and he glared right back at me.

"You've barely done anything but wave a teddy bear in her face," he snapped. "Keep trying. Don't just give up."

"I'm not giving up," I shot back. Our voices were louder now, not only with anger, but as we struggled to be heard over the cries of the two upset children in our living room.

Fred let out a bitter laugh. "You just wanted to shove a distraught toddler off onto me after two seconds of trying to comfort her."

"You know what, Fred?" I scoffed, standing up and crossing my arms. "You told me part of why you wanted to do this was to help me be more comfortable. You know I don't have a lot of experience with children. You have more than I do! You can't expect me to be completely comfortable overnight! Or were you only planning on being patient with me when the girls weren't screaming? But now when the going gets tough, you want to take it out on me and completely belittle me? If that's how it's going to be, and if this is how you're going to treat me, then none of this is going to work. With Vic and Dominique or even with our own kids. Especially with our own kids. I know you're stressed out, but I don't deserve to be spoken to like that and I'm not going to let you speak to me like that."

Fred's face fell. "You're right. I'm sorry," he answered. "I shouldn't have said what I said. Or I should have at least found a better way to say it. A kinder way. And we shouldn't be fighting. It's only going to make things worse, too, if the girls sense the tension, which they probably can."

I nodded and looked back at him as he gave me an encouraging smile. I took in a steadying breath and turned back to Victoire, steeling myself as I reached for her and picked her up. She flailed in my arms, but I held on to her, as tightly as possible without holding on too tight. I grabbed her teddy bear as well as a few picture books and began carrying her towards the bedroom, hoping that a quiet space away from the noise of her crying sister would help calm her down. She continued to scream and call for her mother the whole way. She also kept trying to squirm from my arms. At one point, she thrashed her head around so quickly that I didn't have time to move, and she threw her head right into my nose.

"You alright?" Fred called after me as I yelped in pain.

"Fine," I said, my voice tight as I waved him off. I was trying to hide the frustration in my voice as well as the fact that I felt seconds away from crying myself, purely out of stress. That, plus the fact that my nose was starting to bleed. I could feel it.

"Soph-you're bleeding."

"I know. I'll handle it in a second," I said as I disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door with a firm click. I set Victoire on the floor, where she immediately threw her whole body to the ground as she cried. I then used my free hand to grab my wand and stop the blood flowing from my nose. And finally, I took a second to bury my head in my hands as tears welled up in my eyes.

What had I been thinking? Our week with Victoire and Dominique had barely started and it was already not going well. I had no idea how to go about calming Victoire down. I tried to reassure myself by remembering that the girls had never really been away from their parents before. Not like this. It had nothing to do with me and Fred and everything to do with Bill and Fleur not being close by. In a different way than ever before, too. And something told me that the girls could sense it.

After a moment, I raised my head and sniffled a bit, taking a deep breath as I composed myself. I knew Victoire was only crying because she wanted her parents. She didn't need to be fed yet, or changed, or put down for a nap. She wanted consolation, but not from me. Except I was all she had at the moment.

I sunk down to the floor and sat there cross-legged as I set the teddy bear in my lap and picked up one of Victoire's picture books. Something about a witch misplacing her potion book.

"Alright, Mr. Bear," I said to the bear. "Maybe you'll be interested in listening to this story. Since Vic is a little busy at the moment." And then I began to read it out loud. I kept my voice at a normal volume, and even though Victoire's crying drowned my voice out at first, I noticed her crying finally start to slow until she was only whimpering and sniffling quietly. I glanced at her and continued reading as if she wasn't even in the room. As if I was reading the book entirely to her teddy bear.

She lay there for a moment, sniffling and staring at me as she rubbed her eyes. It looked as if she'd finally begun to tire herself out. Another moment went by and I slowly flipped a page, glancing at her again. I started to read once more, gently adjusting the teddy bear in my lap, and after a second, Victoire got up and came over to me. She stood at my shoulder for a bit longer, sniffling every few seconds as she listened to me read. And then, to my relief-and slight surprise-she crawled into my lap, picking the teddy bear up and squeezing it in her arms as she rubbed a hand across her eyes and nose. Her head lolled back against my chest as she stared down at the pictures of the book in my hands, enthralled by what was on the pages and the sound of my voice.

I kept going until the story was over, and then I slowly closed the book, holding my breath and hoping Victoire wouldn't start crying again. She didn't and I let out a sigh of relief.

"'Gain," she said, her tiny voice coming out quietly as she reached out a hand and swiped repeatedly at the book, shuffling the pages back towards the beginning.

I laughed. "Again? You liked it, then, huh?"

"More," she said, adamantly jabbing a finger at the book.

I smiled and went back to the beginning to read the book all over again. Three quarters of the way through, there was a quiet knock on the door. I paused only to say, "Come in," before promptly going back to reading. I didn't look up or stop, even when Fred pushed open the door and leaned against the doorframe. He stood there, silent and still, until I'd finished the book.

"'Gain," Victoire demanded. I let out a half laugh, half groan as she jabbed her finger at the book again.

"You mean you don't know it by heart by now, Vic?" Fred asked with a smile.

Victoire looked up and noticed him, immediately breaking out into a grin. "Fed!" she cried, getting up from my lap and toddling over to him, still clutching her teddy bear. She held her arms up to him and he picked her up, swinging her up above his head before bringing her back down and holding her against his side. She giggled and snuggled into him, sticking her finger in her mouth as she did so.

"Sounds like you got Dominique to quiet down," I commented as I stood up from the floor.

Fred nodded. "Yeah, and then she fell asleep, actually. She's out in the bassinet." He gazed down at Victoire as he gently brushed some of her hair from her face. "Looks like you were having fun with Aunt Sophie, hm?"

"Ophie," Victoire repeated, taking her finger out of her mouth to point it at me before returning it swiftly to her mouth.

Fred looked at me with a grin as he tried to hold back his laughter. "Ophie," he chuckled. "Sounds like she's calling you an oaf."

"Lovely, Fred, thank you," I sighed, crossing the room to stand beside him.

"You've still got blood all over your face, Ophie," Fred laughed.

I instantly reached up and gingerly touched my face with my fingertips, feeling the leftover blood that had now dried. "I'd forgotten, actually."

Fred used his free hand to reach out and tilt my chin up as he examined my nose, his hand moving to the side of my head, cradling it in his palm. "You're sure you're alright?" he asked. "She didn't break it, did she?"

"No, not even close," I replied. "Just gave it a good whack with her strong head." I looked over at Victoire with a smile and ruffled her hair. "It's all good."

"It's all good now," Fred snorted. "Earlier, you looked ready to start screaming yourself."

"I felt that way. And what about you? I could see you starting to lose your shit out there."

Fred smiled. "But I didn't. We didn't. I think the worst is over now. This is just too new to them is all. They're used to at least one of their parents always being close by."

"Exactly," I agreed. I ran my hand over Victoire's head again before slipping past Fred and out to the hallway. "I'm going to go clean off my face."

"You do that, Ophie," Fred replied.

"Ophie," Victoire repeated. She looked up at Fred. "Where Ophie go?"

I laughed as Fred smiled down at his niece. "She's going to clean up the mess you made of her face."

"Why?" Vic asked, looking puzzled.

"Because she's got blood all over her," Fred explained. "Don't tell me you like the bloodied zombie look, Vic."

"Yeah," she said simply, resting her head on his shoulder again. She clearly had no idea what she was answering yeah to, but Fred went with it nonetheless.

He wrinkled his nose. "Yeah? Really?" He glanced up at me, then back at her. "I don't know. Personally, I feel that it's a little too gory. Besides, it makes kissing her harder. But then again, that really only affects me."

"Why?" Vic asked again.

I snorted with laughter as Fred struggled to come up with an answer. "While you're handling that, I'm going to go clean my face." I patted Fred on the arm and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him to figure out how to answer all of Vic's never ending whys.

---

As it turned out, the stressful first hour with Vic and Dominique was not, in fact, an indication of how the rest of the week would go.

The girls really were wonderful. They were sweet and funny and, for the most part, very well behaved.

On that note, the rest of the week, while it was certainly better, wasn't a walk in the park either. There were moments where Vic wasn't always nice to her little sister, whether it was intentional or not. For one thing, she would try to climb into her bassinet with her-or more like on top of her. Or she would try to hug her, but start squeezing too hard. Sometimes she'd want to share her food, but end up trying to do so by forcefully attempting to shove banana into Dominique's mouth, leading to a loud wail coming from Dominique. That's where it turned ugly. Victoire would get annoyed and try to hit her sister across the face or even poke her in the eye.

There was even a moment on Wednesday when Vic had colored with marker all over her sister's face.

Fred was playing with them both on the floor, entertaining Dominique with funny faces while he also attempted to juggle a couple of their toys-two small, plastic balls in neon colors. One of them had rolled away from him, and in the second it took him to grab it, Victoire had scribbled all over Dominique's face. Fred had turned around to see the damage and immediately froze. And that was the same moment where I had walked in the door after work.

"Fred, what happened?" I asked, covering my mouth with my hand and trying to hide my laughter. My expression was a mix of reflecting my laugh, but also concern as I looked at Dominique's face. She was unbothered, happily kicking her legs as she babbled away happily. Clearly she wasn't hurt, which was a good thing, but she still had a face full of marker.

"Vic decided now would be a good time to express herself in what may be the worst way possible," Fred said with a sigh as he picked Dominique up and examined the damage. "Although...is it wrong to admit that I'm glad it wasn't the walls?"

I let out another breath of laughter as I set my things down. "I think they're both equally as bad." I started across the room to Fred, but was intercepted by Vic, who had suddenly noticed my presence.

"Ophie!" She exclaimed, throwing down her markers and running towards me. I squatted down and let her run into my arms as she threw her own arms around my neck. I stood up, balancing her against my hip as I kissed her cheek.

"What did you do to your sister, hm?" I asked.m, brushing some hair off of her face.

"Colored on her," she admitted matter-of-factly.

"Is that where you're supposed to color?" I asked her, raising my eyebrows.

Vic didn't say anything. At least, not with words. Instead, she simply rested her head against my shoulder and nodded her head in response to my question.

"Like hell, Vic," Fred muttered under his breath, still examining the mess of color on Dominique's skin.

"We can get it off, Fred," I told him calmly as I finally made my way over to him. "I mean, she shouldn't have done it, but I'd rather this if the alternative is her smacking Dom in the face."

"It shouldn't be either," Fred sighed, running a hand through his hair.

I smiled slightly. "I know. But she's a child. And overall, a very good child. The hitting thing definitely needs some work, but other than that..." I trailed off and gazed down at Vic. "I've really liked having them here, Fred," I whispered.

He was quiet for a moment and I could feel him staring at me. When I finally looked back up at him, he was smiling softly. "Yeah?" He asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I think it was more daunting thinking about doing this-taking care of kids. And while it's not easy and it's totally unpredictable, I've still..." I trailed off and shrugged, giving him a tiny smile. "I've still had fun."

"I'm glad," Fred answered quietly, still staring at me, that same soft smile on his face. "You've been really good with them. You've done a great job. And they obviously really love you." He gestured with his chin towards Vic, who was still snuggled into my neck, absentmindedly playing with my necklace.

I smiled. "What do you think Bill and Fleur will say if we refuse to give them back on Sunday?"

Fred let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes. "No, Soph, none of that. I am giving these kids back, no matter what you say."

"Why, are you still upset about Dominique spitting up on your face? Because that was your own fault. You were holding her up above your head and tickling her too soon after she ate."

"See? You are good at this whole mother thing," Fred laughed.

"Fred, that's just common sense," I replied.

"Regardless, she still spit up on my face," Fred went on. "Some of it went into my mouth."

"I know," I answered dryly. "I won't easily forget the sound of you gagging from the bathroom as you spit it out, brushed your teeth and chewed what was probably five pounds of gum."

Fred laughed. "It was probably closer to six pounds."

"Whatever," I answered with a laugh of my own. "In any case, I'd say it taught you a lesson."

"Right-don't hold a baby in the air shortly after they've eaten." He looked down at Dominique. "They're just too cute, though!" He punctuated the word cute with a tickle to Dominique's stomach and she laughed.

I smiled. "Agreed. But Dom would also be a lot cuter without all that marker all over her face." I pulled out my wand and waved it over Dominique, returning her face to normal and clearing any trace of marker.

"Much better," Fred sighed. He looked up and smiled at me again, taking in the sight of me holding Victoire as she continued to rest her head on my shoulder. "You know, not to brag, but I think the two of us would make really sexy parents."

I laughed. "Fred, really?"

"I'm serious! What, you don't think I look sexy holding this baby?" He cradled Dominique closer to his chest and gave me a flirtatious look.

I laughed again and reached out to lightly shove his shoulder. "Merlin, Fred, stop that," I groaned, moving past him to start preparing a bottle for Dominique. It was close to dinner time and I knew by now that around this time she-and Vic as well-would not be shy about reminding us of that. Not that we ever forgot. We'd been sticking to Bill and Fleur's schedule as closely as possible. That also wasn't to say that everything always went according to schedule. Not exactly, anyway. That was one thing about kids, I was quickly learning. You had to have a plan, but also be flexible.

"Okay, noted," Fred responded, looking at me thoughtfully as he tilted his head. "You don't have a thing for men with babies." He smirked. "Unlike me."

"You have a thing for men with babies?" I commented lightly without turning around as I continued to make the bottle.

Fred snorted. "No, I meant women with babies." He came to lean backwards on the counter beside me as he watched me intently. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel his eyes on my face. "I don't know," he went on quietly, shrugging his shoulders. "It's just that watching you this past week, I..."

"You what?" I asked with a soft smile, glancing at him and shifting Vic on my hip.

"Well...okay, so-I just watched you make that bottle without magic and all with one hand while you held Vic with the other," Fred said by way of explanation.

I giggled as I set the bottle down and resorted to magic for the last part, heating it up, before holding it out to Fred. He took it from me, keeping his eyes on mine as he did so.

"And that of all things just completely turns you on or something?" I asked. "Or maybe it's making your insides all warm and fuzzy with love?"

"Both?" Fred answered with a shrug of his shoulders. He shook his head and laughed. "Merlin, what is happening to me?" He looked back up at me almost sheepishly. "It's relatively new, all of this..."

"You mean your maternal kink?" I teased.

"Oh, Merlin, gross, don't say it like that," Fred groaned, turning away from me and heading into the living room.

"That's what I was hearing you explain," I laughed.

"Whatever, Soph," Fred snorted, rolling his eyes. He sat down on the couch and began feeding Dominique the bottle. She took it immediately, even placing her small hands on either side of it, a few of her fingers curling across Fred's.

I followed him, crouching down and setting Vic on the ground near her toys, my eyes still on Fred, watching as he stared lovingly down at his niece. Vic, on the other hand, let out a whine as I put her down, and clung to me.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her quietly, running a hand through her hair. "Hm?"

"Yeah," Vic replied, still clinging to me.

"Then I have to go get your dinner ready," I told her. "That I can't do one-handed."

Fred let out a breath of laughter, tearing his eyes away from Dominique only briefly to look at me before looking back at her.

I finally managed to get Victoire distracted enough by her toys to let go of me, and I pushed myself to my feet. I stood there watching Fred feed Dominique another moment, a soft smile on my face.

"Go on, say it," Fred suddenly said without looking up.

"Say what?" I asked.

"That I look sexy feeding a baby," Fred answered. "And that you're now understanding what I was talking about earlier."

"You mean your latest kink?" I teased as I headed back towards the kitchen. As I passed the couch, I paused and leaned over to kiss Fred's cheek, resting the palms of my hands on the arm of the couch. "I don't know about that," I said. "But I will say that there is something sweet about watching you take care of a baby. Weird, right?"

Fred smiled and looked up at me. "Completely. But at the same time, I think I like it."

I smiled back and leaned in to kiss him on the lips this time, resting my hand on the side of his neck. I pulled back slowly before leaning in for one more equally as slow kiss.

"Can we take this up again later when my hands aren't full?" Fred asked quietly as I pulled away again. "You know, when you can kiss me and I can actually touch you while you're doing it."

"If the girls get to sleep okay tonight, then I think that can be arranged."

"Good," Fred answered, grinning up at me as I ran a hand through his hair.

I smiled as I backed away and headed into the kitchen, where I quickly got Victoire's dinner together. I brought her into the kitchen and fed it to her, watching warily as she threw every other carefully cut up piece of carrot onto the floor.

A few moments later, Fred walked in-without Dominique-and set her bottle into the sink. He let out a snort of laughter at the carrots on the floor and the expression on my face.

"Doninique's fed and burped, and as of five minutes ago, she's asleep," he reported, turning and leaning backwards against the counter as he studied the mess of carrots on the floor. "Looks like you're having an enjoyable time in here." He stifled a laugh as he looked up at me.

"Yesterday," I said slowly, my voice full of disbelief as I stared at Vic, "she loved the carrots. Couldn't get enough of them. Now, half of them are on the floor."

Fred smiled. "Toddlers," he said with a shrug. "That's just how they are. Don't take it personally."

"I'm not, but the carrots might be," I answered, using my wand to clean up the mess of food.

"At least she seemed to like the blueberries," Fred commented. "And her peanut butter and jelly." He gestured to the purple and brown mess smeared all over Victoire's face and hands.

"Today," I said with a laugh. "Tomorrow it could be all over the floor." I cleaned Victoire's face and hands, sighing as she protested slightly, and then turned back to Fred. "She needs a bath and then I'll get her to sleep."

"And then...?" he said suggestively, a corner of his mouth turning upwards.

I rolled my eyes slightly as I picked Victoire up from her high chair. And then I stepped forward and gave Fred a gentle kiss. "Yes, Freddie," I sighed, pretending to be impatient at Fred's persistence, but my slight smile gave away my amusement. "Once she's asleep, I'm all yours."

"Good," he muttered, sliding a hand around my waist and pulling me in for another kiss.

We'd barely even broken apart before Victoire suddenly tugged on a piece of my hair. "Ophie, story time!" She demanded.

"Merlin, Vic," Fred groaned. He shook his head and smiled at her. "I just want to give my future wife a kiss, is that alright with you?"

"No," she said, emphatically shaking her head.

Fred smiled and leaned closer to me, keeping his eyes trained on Vic as he continued to slowly move closer. When he was a few inches away from me, she reached out and pushed against his face, her fingers splaying across his nose, and even his eyes as he squeezed them closed.

"No, Fed," she demanded, her little voice making the demand sound more adorable than serious. "No." She even held up a finger and wiggled it at him.

I laughed. "She's never going to have a problem standing up for herself, is she?" I asked.

Fred shook his head and let out a scoff. "She reminds me so much of Ginny sometimes. She was the same way as a kid." He paused as he studied Vic, who was now resting her head against my collarbone. "Fleur's that way, too. She's never held back from saying what's on her mind. It used to drive Ginny and Mum mad, but it's only because they're the same way."

I smiled and gazed down at Vic, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I'll go give her a bath, and then read her a story," I said quietly. "And then it's bedtime." I glanced up at him and smiled a bit wider. "And then I swear that I'm all yours."

Fred nodded. "Read a short story, okay?" He whispered back with a wry smile.

I laughed before carrying Vic down the hallway to the bathroom, where I gave her a bath and put her in her pajamas. Then, I took her to George's old room-which we were using as the girls' room for the week. I read a few short books before settling Vic down and covering her with her blanket. "Night, Vic," I whispered, giving her cheek a kiss before backing out of the room and quietly closing the door.

"Bloody finally."

I jumped slightly and turned to see Fred standing at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall. I couldn't see his features all that well-he was backlit by the light from the living room. But I knew he was smirking.

"I wasn't that long, Fred," I whispered, walking down the hall towards him.

"You were ages," he complained, reaching out once I was close enough and gently pulling me towards him by the belt loops of my jeans.

"I was not," I insisted.

"You were definitely gone longer than one short story," he argued.

"Okay, fine, it was two short stories," I sighed.

"I knew it," Fred whispered, smiling down at me triumphantly. He held my gaze for a moment fore leaning in to kiss me.

"I'll have you know that I still wasn't gone ages," I told him, pulling away slightly.

"It's not that important, Soph," Fred chuckled, kissing me again.

"It seemed important to you a few minutes ago." I pulled back a little further and looked up at him.

"Only because I wanted to do this-" he gestured between the two of us-"uninterrupted. But now you keep talking." He shook his head. "It's like you're playing games with me."

I smiled up at him. "Games? Me? Never."

Fred snorted as he slowly backed me up against the wall. "Just shut up, Soph." And then he leaned down to kiss me again, his hands tightly on my hips.

Just as his hands had begun wandering underneath my sweater, Dominique began crying.

"Bloody hell," Fred sighed as we both froze.

I turned my head towards the sound of Dominique's cries. They were relatively quiet now, but I knew they'd only get louder, and then we risked her waking Vic.

"I'll go get her," I said, turning towards the closed door of George's room.

"Wait a minute," Fred whispered, keeping me in place against the wall. "Let's just see if she calms herself down first."

I turned back towards him and we stayed where we were as still as possible for a few moments. After a bit, the crying seemed to quiet even more and then stop completely.

"Thank Merlin," Fred muttered, leaning in to kiss me again.

"Fred," I giggled, rolling my eyes at his haste to get back to what we'd been doing.

Seconds later, though, a loud wail rose up from the room the girls were in, this time from Vic.

"Merlin's fucking beard." Fred sighed heavily and pulled away from me completely. He rolled his eyes before looking back at me. "You know, in this exact moment, I'm suddenly re-thinking the having children thing."

"Oh, please," I laughed, heading down the hall to go comfort Vic.

"I'm serious," Fred protested.

"No, you're not," I argued, opening the bedroom door and crossing the room to Vic, who was standing up in the crib and wailing. I didn't pick her up, but instead ran hand over her head and talked to her quietly as I helped her back to a sitting position.

"Ophie," she sniffled through her tears, reaching out for me.

"You're alright, Vic," I whispered comfortingly, crouching down to look at her through the bars of the crib. "It's alright, go back to sleep. You're okay."

"Milk," she sniffled, rubbing her fists over her eyes.

"You want some milk?" I asked. When she nodded, I turned to Fred, who was leaning against the doorframe. "Would you mind?"

He shook his head before turning and going back to the kitchen as I sat beside the crib and hummed all of Victoire's favorite songs to her until he came back.

"Thanks," I said quietly, taking the cup of milk from him and reaching into the crib to hand it to Vic. She took it and gulped down three quarters of it before holding it back out to me and lying back down. I gently rubbed my hand over her back for another moment until she was fast asleep again. And then I slowly retracted my hand and stepped away from the crib.

"Look at you," Fred whispered proudly, grinning at me as I turned towards him. "I've also now changed my mind about re-thinking the kid thing."

I let out a quiet snort of laughter as I nudged him out into the hallway and closed the door behind me. "You never re-thought anything, Fred," I told him.

"I did for a moment, there," he insisted, following me to the kitchen were I deposited Vic's cup of milk into the sink. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I feel like I haven't seen you all week."

"You've seen me," I whispered, leaning backwards into him.

"Not properly," he said. "We've been a little busy."

"This was your idea," I laughed, absentmindedly brushing my fingers back and forth along his arm.

"I know-and I know we both agreed that it's been great, but I've really missed kissing you uninterrupted." He paused. "Speaking of, how far do you think we can make it this time before we get interrupted? Do you think I can manage to get your sweater off this time?"

"Why don't we find out?" I asked, turning towards him. He grinned at me, but I didn't give him time to respond before I'd pulled him in for a kiss.