"Twenty-three looks good on you, honey."

I smiled and shrugged one shoulder as I looked across the table at my mother. It was the day of my twenty-third birthday, and she had insisted that she take me out to lunch to celebrate.

"What's with that shrug?" She laughed, taking a sip of her water. "Don't tell me you're feeling old already."

"No, not at all," I answered. I let a puff of air out of my mouth. "I suppose you're right. The past few years have been some of the best birthdays I've ever had and they're only getting better."

"It shows," my mother said. "Hence, why I told you twenty-three looks good on you." She smiled over her glass at me before extending her arm and tilting the glass towards me slightly. "Here's to each birthday being better than the last. And to aging like fine wine."

I giggled. "I'm twenty-three, not eighty-three." Nevertheless, I clinked my glass against hers and took a sip of my own water. "I think that toast also would have been better if we had been actually drinking alcohol. What's your favorite? Wine?"

My mother shuddered. "I hate wine, actually. You can laugh all you want, but I'll take one of those fruity cocktails with a little umbrella in it any day."

I smiled. "I won't laugh. I actually agree with you. And Fred might, too, even though he would rather sell the joke shop than admit it to you." I smiled a little wider as I thought back to the night Fred and I were in New York. "I ordered a piña colada when I was out with him once. He ended up drinking more of it than either of us would probably care to admit."

My mother laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as she did. "The sad thing is, he'll never just order one for himself. He'll be content to drink yours until the end of time."

I let out a breath of laughter as I ran my fingertip along the side of my water glass, catching the condensation on my skin.

"Speaking of Fred, Rachel tells me that he and you had a pretty nasty fight a few weeks ago."

I rolled my eyes. Was it really so impossible for Rachel to keep her mouth shut?

"Rachel loves to gossip," I answered.

"Are you trying to imply that her love of gossip makes what she said less true? Because I don't think that's quite accurate."

"It is if you're getting passed information through the grapevine."

"Sure, but Rachel said she heard about it straight from you. So unless you're spreading rumors about yourself-"

I shot her a look. "It's really not all that funny," I said as she stifled a laugh.

"No, you're right. I really just wanted to make sure you're okay."

I nodded stiffly. "I'm fine. Really. The fight happened a few weeks ago. Fred and I made up. It's fine. We're fine."

"Okay," my mother said, her eyes sweeping my face. "It just seemed like you'd been pretty upset from what Rachel said."

"Merlin, she doesn't know when to stop talking," I sighed, leaning back in my chair.

"She told me because she was worried about you," my mother insisted. "She didn't tell me to gossip about you for the fun of it." She paused. "Do you not want me to know? Is that it? I'm certainly not judging you for anything that happened, I can tell you that much. I don't like that you got into a fight with Fred and that you were that drunk. It's not something to be happy about. And I'm glad you're okay and worked things out. But I'm not going to chastise you for any of it. You're a grown woman. Besides, I don't think I'm quite in the place to scold you, anyway. And I don't know if I'll ever be."

"It's not that I didn't want you to know," I said quietly, looking over at her. "I just...wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to you about what the fight was about."

"Which was what?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "You mean Rachel didn't tell you?"

My mother laughed. "No, that was the one thing she said she didn't feel was her place to say."

"Good to see she stopped talking at some point." I let a puff of air out of my mouth again as I tapped my fingers against the side of my glass. "I suppose there's really no beating around the bush, so I'll just say it. Fred has always really wanted children. A few of them, actually. And I was struggling with the idea of even having one. I didn't think I could do it. I was afraid to fail-more so than anything else because raising a child is something that's really important to get right."

"Ah," my mother said, nodding her head slowly. "I see."

"It doesn't matter anymore," I said quickly, fidgeting slightly in my seat. "I know I'll do everything in my power to be a great mother and I'm realizing that I shouldn't be too too hard on myself if something doesn't go perfectly. Parenting is hard. For everyone."

"Of course it is," my mother agreed.

"I'm working on not letting my past affect my confidence, too," I went on. "I just couldn't stop thinking...what if I can't protect my child? What if I fail to protect my child? Uncontrollable circumstance or not. I just couldn't bear it. To have a situation similar to mine where they wonder if they were ever loved..."

"Honey, I think your situation was very unique. What happened to you-it's not the norm. Eric's gone now and he had no surviving relatives-"

"That we know of," I muttered. "Besides, it's not even just that. A number of other dangerous scenarios could play out."

"True," my mother agreed. "But you'll drive yourself crazy exploring all those possibilities. If you truly want a child-beyond your fears of something bad happening-then it will end up being one of the best things you do. Trust me-it kills me every day that I lost so much time with you. Those first five years were five of the best years of my life."

I nodded. "I believe you," I said, my voice coming out slightly strained.

"And I hate that the whole situation has left you the way it has. You're doing so well, but you've clearly been left with some lasting effects. Some lingering fear. And I realize you've done well for the most part, but I also just know there must be some days where it all comes back at once. Moments where it's just overpoweringly brutal to be in your own head."

I looked up at her in surprise. "I-"

"Don't try to deny it," she interrupted. "I know all about it because I'm dealing with it, too."

"What do you mean?" I asked. I wasn't surprised to hear her say this. I'd known she must have had her own shit to deal with after all that had happened. How could she not? But hearing her admit it now was almost jarring.

My mother looked at me dubiously. "Most of what Eric did to you, he did to me. Plus some. I never escaped. Not even once. I was around him constantly. Did you really think I walked out of there mentally unscathed?"

I blinked. "No, of course not. I knew you wouldn't. I just thought-you always hide it so well. I just thought that it wasn't as bad as I'd thought or that it was something you could handle-something you didn't need me for."

"I can handle it. I am handling it. But I still have many sleepless nights. I'm still weary and untrusting of strangers. Any little creak in the floorboards and I'm on edge." She sighed. "And even though I had mentioned to you the idea of me moving to New York if things didn't work out here, I didn't-and still don't-know how well I'd do there. The idea of being completely alone in a big, new city. I'd blend in well enough, sure, but it would be lonely, isolating...and at night it would just be me and my issues, sitting there alone. I'd be giving my fears room to grow." She paused. "I don't think I need to go into detail. I'm fairly certain you know how it's been."

I was quiet as I thought that over. "I'm sorry," I finally whispered, "that I never asked you how you were doing. It couldn't have been much help keeping it all in and not talking about it."

"I didn't say I wasn't talking about it," my mother admitted. "Believe it or not, Martha has been a great listening ear. Molly, too, actually. They can't relate to what we went through-I know they can't. And they don't pretend to. But they do know what the general emotions feel like. Guilt, grief, regret, sadness, anger...everyone can relate to those."

I nodded. "Well...if you ever need a third person to talk to...one that knows exactly what you went through..." I looked up at her with a half smile.

"I didn't want to burden you with that," my mother answered. "To pile on double of the same things you were feeling, from the woman you spent years being so angry at..."

"Well, things are changing now. I'm not angry anymore. So, I mean it. If you want to talk, I'm here."

My mother smiled. "I appreciate that. Thank you." We looked at each other a moment longer before my mother gestured back towards me. "So, turning the subject back towards what we were originally talking about: children. I meant what I said. If you can picture that end result, like you said-a family-then I think overcoming your fears and going for it could be very well worth it in the end. When you're ready, of course. Working through your fear has to come first."

I took in a deep breath. "Right. I agree." I sighed and went back to tracing a finger on the rim of my glass.

My mother rested her elbows on the table as she studied me thoughtfully. "You know, I realize that everyone's experience is different, but raising you those first five years was a joy. Not to say it wasn't ever difficult, especially doing it all on my own. But you were such a good little girl. You rarely ever gave me any trouble. And I had a fairly easy pregnancy and delivery with you as well."

"Yeah?" I asked. "You remember it?"

My mother scoffed. "Of course. It was twenty-three years ago today, but it feels like it was yesterday. You were a small baby-only six pounds, one ounce. Twenty inches long. Barely any hair on your head, but you had thick, dark eyelashes that surrounded the prettiest, bluest eyes I'd ever seen." She smiled lovingly at me. "The worst part was how long I was in labor for. Nearly a whole twenty-four hours."

"What?" I gaped at her in shock.

My mother laughed. "Mhm. My water broke at five in the morning on June ninth, and you didn't make an entrance until three in the morning on the tenth. You did not want to come out."

"How could you stand it? Being in labor for that long?"

"It wasn't bad up until the last seven hours or so. That's when the exhaustion started to kick in and the pain and discomfort took it up a notch."

"Great," I laughed.

"You know-I'm sure you've heard people say that it's all worth it once you've-"

"Once you've had the baby? Yeah, of course."

My mother nodded. "It really is true. Believe me. You were so worth the twenty-four hours of labor. I was practically delirious with exhaustion afterwards, but all I wanted to do in that moment was hold you and never let go."

A silence fell between us for a moment as I continued swiping my finger over the condensation covering my water glass and thought over my mother's words. The irony of her statement wasn't lost on me, and I doubted it was lost on her, either. Eventually it was her that broke the silence again.

"I was also going to say that if having children is something you're not quite ready for within the next few years, you can always foster or adopt a child. Or both."

"I did mention that to Fred," I sighed, looking up and meeting her eyes again.

"I think fostering could help give you the final bit of a confidence boost that you might need."

"That sounds like you're suggesting I use them as some sort of guinea pig," I said. "I couldn't do that."

"Not exactly," my mother said slowly. "It's something that would start off temporary-it's not something that starts off with anyone thinking it's set in stone. But you'd still be making such a difference. You'd be helping them and they'd be helping you. And you would still care for them so deeply, I know you would. That's what's important. And I also know you personally may find this hard to believe, given your own experience, but a lot of times foster parents fall so in love with a child they're fostering that they want to adopt them as their own. It does happen, you know. You might be able to give another little girl-or boy-what you so desired growing up. A forever home. You could be the reason some other child doesn't have to wait until their early twenties to finally find a place they belong."

I was silent as I felt my eyes fill with tears and my throat constrict. I eventually brushed away a few tears that began rapidly falling down my cheeks as I sniffled and cleared my throat. "I've never really thought about it in that way or even that much. It was just something I'd mentioned quickly to Fred as an option. But you're right. I've experienced the negative side of being in foster care. I know what it's like. It might be a waste of that knowledge for me to not do anything with it."

My mother smiled. "I also think it could make you feel just as happy and complete as delivering a child yourself. Some people say it's not the same and maybe it isn't. Not in the sense of you actually giving birth to them. But that doesn't mean it can't come very close. The love will still be there and that's what matters. Look at you and Martha. You've made her so happy. She sees you as her own daughter. And you've come to see her as a mother figure in return." She hesitated and shrugged her shoulders. "But ultimately it's up to you and Fred what you two would like to do. You have choices and you have options. You can foster, you can adopt, you can have your own children. You can do all three. But one thing you don't have to worry about now is going through whatever you choose alone."

I nodded. "I know that."

"And you also have to know that your choices and feelings about this are not wrong, no matter what anyone else may say or how confused you may feel. And in the end, you have to do what feels the best for you."

"I know," I said again, my voice quiet.

My mother continued to study me for a bit. "I won't press the issue any more, but just know that I'm here for you if you need me." She let out a bitter laugh as she shook her head. "That's not something that a mother should feel the need to remind her daughter-it should just be understood. But nevertheless..." She took in a slow breath and then looked at me, shrugging her shoulders and giving me a small smile. "Nevertheless, I'm here."

I smiled at her-a genuine, appreciative smile. "I know. Thank you."

She nodded. "Oh! Hang on," she said, suddenly brightening and reaching down into her bag. "I haven't given you your gift yet." She straightened back up, and I saw a familiar object in her hands. Elizabeth Proctor's spell and potion book. My mother beamed as she passed it across the table to me. "I know I mentioned passing it on to you if you wanted it, and now it's officially yours."

"Why are you giving it to me now?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her in slight suspicion as I slowly took the book. "Don't you want to hold onto it for a while longer?"

"First of all, I'm not giving it to you because I'm planning on going anywhere if that's what you're wondering. I've taken more of a liking to being here than I thought. Like I said, even though I threw around the idea of New York, actually following through terrified me. And now that I've been here, in London, I'm enjoying it. I'm enjoying you. You know that I feared that I'd continue to be an outcast here once we returned from Salem. That maybe you wouldn't be as receptive to me as I'd hoped. That Tom, Martha, Molly and Arthur wouldn't be receptive. That Fred would continue to dislike me-not that he was wrong for that either. But it's been the opposite. Everyone has been so incredibly welcoming. Including you. I also think I'm finally winning Fred over." She smiled as I laughed. "And I can't leave you again. I just can't do it. Even if, like I told you, you'd always continue to have a way of contacting me. While that would still be true, I realized that I do still need to be where you are."

I grinned. "I'm glad you feel that way. And trust me, I know the feeling, too." I looked back down at the book. "But, seriously-you don't want to keep this for a few more years?"

My mother shook her head. "What use do I have for it? I've already read it front to back several times over since I took it from the Proctor house. I've tried making some of the potions, as you know. I've made copies of the ones I really liked. I've used it for everything that interested me. And now it's your turn." She hesitated as a small smile turned up the corner of her mouth. "And in the event that you and Fred do decide to have a child, don't you want to be able to brew that potion to be able to tell?"

A slow smile lifted the corners of my mouth. "Yeah," I admitted. "That would be cool."

My mother laughed before leaning across the table to quickly kiss my forehead. "Happy birthday, darling."

I got home later that night with a few minutes to spare before the joke shop closed. I let myself in the back room to find Fred there alone, sweeping a bunch of crumpled bits of parchment off of the work table and into a waste bin. When he heard me come in, his eyes flicked up to meet mine and he grinned.

"Birthday girl!" he exclaimed. "How was your first day of being twenty-three?"

"Wonderful," I replied, making my way over to his side and leaning up to quickly kiss him.

"Looks like you've done well in the gift department," he commented, nodding towards the various items that my arms were currently laden with. "What'd you get?"

I set my pile of gifts down on the work table with a sigh of relief, accidentally burying some of Fred and George's sketches underneath them in the process.

"Oi, we actually need these," Fred muttered, carefully extracting a few of the sketches out from under my gifts.

"The birthday girl is very sorry," I said, giving him the sweetest, most apologetic look I could manage.

Fred snorted with laughter and gave me a light shove. "Yeah, yeah. Get on with it, will you? What did you get? I need to make sure nobody outdid me for gifts. Although, I'm sure they won't. My gift is pretty impressive."

"Speaking of-I am still waiting on yours," I teased, tapping my watch with my finger.

This time, Fred reached out to ruffle my hair. "You'll get it soon," he said, laughing as I swatted his hand away. "All in due time."

"Okay, so," I began, turning back towards my gifts and holding each one up as I listed it off. "Rachel got me some perfume, nail polish, new pajamas and some Fudge Flies. Allie got me another photo album for my personal photos. Kayla-" I broke off and let out a laugh as I held up Kayla's gifts. "She got me a touristy London shot glass and-"

"And some firewhiskey to go with it," Fred laughed, examining the alcohol. "Nice. We can use this tonight, actually." He smiled as I laughed.

"I'm not sure I've entirely recovered from last time," I said.

"Aw, come on, you have to do some birthday shots. Especially since you'll offend Kayla if you don't."

I let out a snort of laughter and rolled my eyes. "Sure, whatever you say."

"What else did you get?" Fred asked.

"Tom and Martha gave me some jewelry, a small framed photo of the three of us last Christmas, and-look at this." I rummaged through one of the gift bags and pulled out a larger framed print of one of my own photos. It was a photo of Diagon Alley, taken at dusk from just outside the Leaky Cauldron. It had been during one of the snowfalls we'd had the previous winter and the lanterns on either side of the cobblestones street had been lit up. Each lantern also was adorned with a green wreath decorated with a red bow and twinkling dots of light that magically shone from within the greenery of the wreath. It had looked lovely and naturally I'd felt the need to snap a picture.

"I've always loved that photo," Fred said, gazing down at it from over my shoulder. He pointed to a spot close to the center. "You can make out the top of the joke shop."

I smiled. "Yeah...I like that it's visible. I like that the two places that I've called home are at either end of the same alley." I gazed fondly down at the photo for a moment before snapping out of my thoughts and turning my head to look back up at Fred. "Martha said something a little odd, though."

"Yeah?" Fred's eyes darted to meet mine before going back to looking down at the photo.

I nodded. "She told me that when I finally have my own place set up to sell my photos, she thought this photo would be perfect hanging up inside. This one wouldn't be to sell, obviously. She said something about putting it up over my desk in my office. She said it would look great. And then Tom nudged her and she hurriedly said, she was just speaking hypothetically. And then she wouldn't say anymore about it."

Fred shrugged and pulled away from me to continue cleaning up the work table. "She probably was just speaking hypothetically. It's a beautiful photo. It would look great anywhere."

"I don't know, it was just odd," I said, looking back down at the photo. "It was almost like she knew something I didn't. But that's impossible. I haven't seriously considered a place yet, much less signed any papers. And she hasn't seen any of the places I have looked at yet. How would she possibly know anything about if the place had an office? It just doesn't make sense." I shrugged and sighed before putting the photo back in the bag again. "Maybe it was just me looking into it too much."

"Maybe," Fred shrugged again and glanced over at me. Just then, he did a double take at something else lying in my pile of gifts and I followed his gaze to the spell book.

"What's that?" he asked slowly, glancing at me. His eyes lit up as a slow smile spread across his face.

I studied his expression with a smile of my own. "What does it look like it is?" I asked.

Fred put down what he was doing and came back over to stand beside me. He slowly reached out for the book before looking back over at me. "May I?"

I nodded. "Go ahead."

"It's not going to bite me or electrocute me or something, is it?" He joked. "Since I'm not part of the Proctor family line?"

I hesitated. I didn't know for sure. My mother hadn't mentioned it, but that didn't mean there weren't any charms. It could have also just meant she didn't know either.

"That's a really good point. I'm not sure," I finally admitted. I took a step closer and reached out for the book. "Maybe I should-"

"Oh, to hell with it," Fred suddenly said. He quickly reached past me for the book, but I stopped him.

"No, hang on," I insisted, grabbing his arm. "You're right-that book could be charmed. I'd be surprised if it isn't, actually. Elizabeth's necklace was."

"You and I are getting married, Soph. If the book is picky, let's hope it at least understands that."

"We're not married yet," I said. "Also, we're not related by blood."

"Thankfully," Fred muttered. He rested his palms on the table on either side of the book and sent me a charming grin as he slowly leaned to the side towards me, gently kissing me before pulling away.

I smiled. "My point is that maybe that makes a difference."

Fred thought that over before shrugging. "I guess we're going to find out." He turned back towards the book and raised his hands again. They hovered over the book for a moment before he took in a deep breath and quickly reached for it. The moment his hands came within an inch of the worn leather cover, there was a buzzing sound, like a strong electrical current, as sparks appeared out of nowhere, right where Fred's hands were.

He let out a yelp and quickly pulled backwards, shooting the book a glare of annoyance. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Are you alright?" I gasped. I grabbed his left hand-the one closest to me-and began examining it before moving on to inspect the other hand. The skin on his palms was a little red, but seemed otherwise okay. "Does it hurt?" I asked.

"It only stung when the sparks shot out. It's fading now," Fred muttered, sliding his hands from my grasp. He sighed. "Figures that I can't touch the damn thing." He sent the book another glare. "I was so looking forward to getting my hands on it. Literally."

"Maybe, like you said, once we're married you'll be able to touch it," I said. "And if not, maybe there's something in the book that can help us figure out what kind of charm is on it and how to change it to let you touch it. Or we can find the information somewhere else. Hermione would probably be able to help. She knows the Ministry Library like the back of her hand..."

"Yeah, maybe," Fred sighed. He didn't look convinced, though.

"Worst case scenario, I can open it for you and you can use your wand to flip the pages. Or if there's anything inside that interests you for the shop, or even for personal use, I can just copy it and give it to you."

Fred nodded, still staring down at the book. Finally, he turned to look at me with a teasing smile. "That's sweet. I'm really proud of your sharing skills."

I laughed before my smile faded to a sympathetic one. "I'm sorry," I whispered, putting a hand on his arm. "I know you're disappointed. But we'll figure it out."

Fred smiled and leaned down to kiss me. "Don't be sorry. It's okay. It's your book-your family's book-after all. It's not that big of a deal."

I nodded and waved my wand at the pile of gifts littering the table, magically sending them upstairs to the flat. I turned back to Fred with a coy smile. "So...it still seems like the only gifts I'm waiting for are yours and George's."

"George didn't give you his gift yet?" Fred asked, his eyes traveling up and down from my head to my toes, taking me all in. "What a jerk he is, taking his sweet time."

"And yet something tells me I'll still get his gift before yours," I whispered, taking a step closer to him.

"We've got to save the best for last, haven't we?"

"So, is George still here?" I asked, my voice still a whisper. "The sooner he gives me his gift, the sooner you can give me yours."

Fred laughed and nodded. "George is out front. He should have locked up by now and he's most likely balancing the register. Then I'm sure he'll be back to say hello."

"How much time do you think we have?" I asked, my smile growing wider.

Fred glanced at his watch. "Uh-ten minutes, give or take?"

"Works for me," I answered.

Fred grinned and stepped even closer until there was hardly any space between us at all and I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. A moment later, he'd closed the distance between us and kissed me, taking my face in his hands as he did so. His thumbs wandered over my cheekbones as the rest of his fingers tangled in my hair. He'd moved slowly at first, but then he quickly moved his hands to my waist and hoisted me up onto the table as he moved to stand between my legs.

I continued to kiss him for a moment longer before I broke away and began pressing kisses in a line over Fred's jaw, from his chin to just below his ear. And then I moved down the side of his neck, towards his collarbone.

I felt his fingertips dig harder into my hips and felt him swallow as he tilted his head back. "You've gotten so good at this," he finally whispered.

I pulled away and looked at him in amusement. "Good at what? Kissing?" I laughed.

Fred nodded. "When I first met you, you were entirely too well versed in keeping to yourself. You hated being touched, and in turn, you shied away from giving it. You would barely even look at me. And now, you can't keep your eyes-or your lips, or your hands-off of me."

I laughed. "I could say the same for you. Not the shy part, but the part about not being able to keep your eyes, lips, or hands to yourself."

Fred smiled and brushed some of my hair behind my ear. "The point was that before, you were too shy and quiet and broken to ever take control like this." He let out a quiet laugh. "So every time you do take control, I'm still always a little surprised. Pleasantly, though."

"So what I'm hearing is you want me to do it more often?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him as I smiled.

"Is the sky blue?" Fred asked with a laugh. "Do gnome bites hurt like hell? Am I the better looking twin?"

"Yes, yes, and maybe," I teased.

"Oh, shove it," Fred answered, leaning in to kiss me again. He pulled back and looked at me with a smile that was half amused and half impressed. "I'm really proud of you."

"You're proud that I've become a good kisser?" I asked.

Fred laughed. "Not just that, but you've come so far from where you were two years ago and it's allowed you to be a better person as a whole." He paused and smirked. "But the kissing is a nice bonus." He pressed his fingertips into my hips again as he leaned in to kiss me one more time, dipping my torso backwards slightly over the tabletop before pulling me upright again and then pulling back from me slightly.

I went in to kiss him again, but he smiled and reached up with one hand to gently touch my chin, turning my head so he could make a beeline for my jaw and neck this time. His hand returned to my hip and closed around a fistful of my shirt as he trailed kisses along the side of my neck.

I could barely formulate a single thought besides how amazed I was to have ended up here. It was like Fred had said. Where I was now was such a polar opposite from where I'd been two years ago and the contrast continued to amaze me every single day. Everything they had happened to me since coming to London had been normal, basic things. Finding a family, friends, a boyfriend. Falling in love. Getting engaged. Celebrating my birthday. Planning for the future. Having a future. They were all basic and sometimes taken for granted by people who had grown up with endless amounts of these things. But I had never planned on any of this happening to me. It was all new and even still, two years later, it was almost overwhelming at times.

"You're right, you know," I finally whispered breathlessly. "If someone had told me on the day I first met you that we'd be in this position, I wouldn't have believed them."

"Do you mean this literal position or the figurative one?" Fred murmured against my neck. "You know, where we're madly in love and engaged to be married?"

I tilted my head as Fred nipped at my collarbone. "Both," I answered. "You were right about me not being the same person-I'm not the same. This isn't even what I wanted back then. At all. And I was afraid of it."

"And now?" Fred asked, kissing his way back up to the spot just below my ear.

I pulled back and looked at him, my eyes wandering over his face. "Now it's not scary at all."

Fred laughed and gave me one last kiss before he pulled back away from me.

"I tell you I like kissing you and you stop?" I teased.

"I could keep going," Fred answered. "Believe me, I could. But George will be done up front any second and I don't fancy him interrupting us."

"Good point," I said, jumping down from the table.

"Don't worry, I fully plan on finishing what we started once George leaves for the night." He smiled and sent me a suggestive wink as he walked back around the table to the other side. He picked up the Fudge Flies that Rachel had given me and opened the box, digging his hand around for a bit before finally pulling out a handful and dumping them into his mouth.

"Are you serious?" I cried in frustration, trying to lean across the table and grab the box.

Fred only laughed and moved out of my reach. "Wasn't I just commending you on your sharing skills?" He asked. "What happened to those skills?"

"They're gone the minute food is involved," I said, lunging again for the box in his hand. He laughed again and pulled away a second time. "Asshole," I muttered, crossing my arms and frowning as I turned away and leaned backwards against the side of the table I was standing on.

"Don't tell me you're sulking on your birthday," Fred said. He came around the table again and stood next to me, mirroring my stance of leaning against the table. He smiled and tilted the Fudge Flies towards me. "Want a Fudge Fly? I know how much you love them."

I turned to shoot him a glare before rolling my eyes and reaching my hand into the box. "You really are a piece of work sometimes, you know that?"

"I do," Fred answered with a grin.

I let out a breath of laughter as I slowly ate my handful of Fudge Flies. "You know, when I said I wouldn't have believed anyone who told me two years ago that I'd be in this position, I also meant that I just never thought it would be with you."

"No?" Fred asked, glancing at me.

I shook my head and let out another quiet laugh. "The day I first met you-Merlin, you terrified me. Your persistence to keep talking to me when I was barely giving you the time of day. Your ability to joke around like it was nothing-I thought you kept trying to make fun of me. I was in a place where I didn't even know the difference. To me, there was no difference. All jokes were meant to be mean." I let out a long sigh and stared up at the ceiling. "That night-I would've been content to never see you again."

"What changed your mind?"

I shrugged. "You defended me to Marcus Flint. You didn't even know me. I know I bring that up a lot, and it may have felt like nothing to you, but to me, it meant quite a bit." I looked over at him and lovingly ran a hand through his hair as I smiled softly. "No one had ever done that for me before. Stood up for me. The only people that did back in Salem ended up killed by Eric. Anyway, I knew that despite how much your personality had freaked me out earlier that night, you had kindness in you." I paused. "And then, I admit, what Flint said about Angelina dumping you made me curious. Curious about what you'd gone through. And then Martha practically pushed me into going to see you. She sort of mentioned you'd gone through something too. And there was a part of me that so desperately wanted to talk to someone. To relate to someone. Even though I tried to fight that part of me tooth and nail because I was afraid."

Fred was quiet as he thought that over, staring silently down into the box of Fudge Flies as he did. Finally, he let out a sigh of his own and looked up at me. "I was curious about you, too. Naturally. But I hated that I felt that way. I knew exactly how it felt to have people pry when you didn't want them to. So I tried not to. I thought it was best for both of us in the end if neither of us talked to each other about all the hard stuff. But it was what we did anyway, and it was the best for us in the end, wasn't it?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah," I whispered. "And it did always seemed to come out when we were together. The hard stuff ended up being most of what we talked about."

"Weird how that happened," Fred commented.

"Mm," I agreed.

Fred suddenly laughed to himself as he shook his head. "You want to know what the very first things I thought were when I first saw you? In the moment after I bumped into you?"

"Oh no, what?" I groaned. "I'm afraid I may not like what you have to say."

Fred continued to laugh. "First of all, I thought for a moment that I really had broken your foot. Secondly..." He trailed off for a second as his smile faltered. "Secondly, because of how uncomfortable you looked, I had this crazy thought that even though I had no idea who you were, that you somehow knew all about me, my anger issues and my drinking problem and were already judging me for it by being afraid of me and trying to get away from me as quickly as possible." He was quiet for a moment as he stared straight ahead, lost in thought. Finally, he turned to look at me, a fond smile on his face as he met my eyes. "And thirdly, in the brief millisecond when you looked directly at me, I thought that I may have been looking into the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen."

I stared at him, a blush already creeping up my cheeks. "You thought that just from looking at them for a millisecond?" I whispered.

Fred nodded, his eyes still locked on mine. "Mhm." He slowly leaned over and paused when his lips where an inch from mine. I held my breath knowing he was teasing me, and he smiled before finally closing the gap and kissing me.

"I think you're full of shit," I whispered, pulling away slightly. "You had far too much going on at the time to notice that."

"I'm never to busy to notice girls," Fred laughed. "I did tell you I thought you were pretty when I first met you, didn't I?"

I nodded. "You did. But telling me I'm pretty is still different from telling me I have the most beautiful eyes you'd ever seen."

Fred snorted. "You would've died on the spot, Soph. You gave me shit for even calling you pretty, if you remember."

"Yeah, well...that was then. Now I love hearing you tell me that." I met his eyes and smiled slightly as he grinned back and leaned in to kiss me again.

Just then, there was a loud knock on the door to the room. "You have three seconds before I open this door," George's voice called, "so if you're not decent, you'd better get decent."

"You're going to need to give us more than three seconds then," Fred said casually as he set the Fudge Flies down and leaned back on his hands.

"Disgusting," we heard George mutter from the other side of the door. "Seriously," he called, "do you have clothes on?"

"Minimally," Fred called back as I snorted with laughter and swatted him.

"He's lying, George," I said. "You can come in."

The door opened and George slowly stuck his head in, peering at us hesitantly with one eye squeezed shut. When he saw we were indeed fully dressed, he let out a sigh of relief and pushed open the door the rest of the way. "Thank Merlin," he sighed. He smiled as he crossed the room to me and grabbed me in a hug, spinning me around once before setting me down. "Happy Birthday, Soph," he said.

"Thanks, George," I said with a smile.

George went over to one of the shelves positioned against the wall and pulled down a gift wrapped in bright yellow paper. "For you," he said, handing it to me with a flourish.

I took it with a smile and thanked him before ripping off the paper and opening the box, smiling when I saw what was inside. "George, this is beautiful," I said.

Inside the box was a small figurine of an angel. She was made of painted wood with glittery patterns adorning her dress that sparkled as I pulled her out of the box. Her head was angled upwards, her arms outstretched upwards as well. Behind her, her wings were fully extended, completing the illusion that she was taking flight.

"I thought she kind of even looked like you," George said, gesturing to the angel's long brown hair-hair that even though it was carved from wood, looked as if it were flowing in an imaginary breeze. Next, George pointed to the angel's eyes, which had been painted on and were a lovely blue.

I smiled as I examined the details of the figurine. The intricate design of her wings that almost looked like two feathers. The folds of her dress that were adorned with glittery, swirling designs. The blue of her eyes and the strands of her hair.

"She's beautiful," I whispered before looking back at George and hugging him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he answered, hugging me back. "Has Fred given you his gift yet?" he asked as he pulled away. He glanced at Fred with a knowing smirk.

"No," I answered, looking at Fred. "And I've been waiting ever so patiently."

"Well, maybe if George would get his ugly arse out of here, we could get our night started and I could give it to you."

"What if I want to see Sophie's reaction?" George asked.

"George, we talked about this and you agreed-"

"I know, I know," George said, holding up his hands in defeat. "I agreed to not be present for Sophie's present." He nudged me and winked as I laughed. "It's probably for the best anyway," he went on. "There's probably going to be a lot of kissing and romance happening afterwards." He stuck out his tongue. "Gross."

"His gift is that good, huh?" I asked with a smile.

"I think so," George said. "You might be too shocked to speak for a good few minutes, and you'll probably tell Fred he's insane, but after that..." He trailed off and smiled as he shrugged. "That's what my bet is on, at least. Ginny agrees. Ron thinks you're going to cry."

"Happy tears or sad tears?" I asked.

"Happy," George answered.

"Well, that's good, then," I answered, nodding thoughtfully as I looked at Fred. "Can't wait to find out what it is."

"I'll get out of here now so Fred can get started on romancing the shit out of you," George said, collecting his things.

"Charming, George," I said as Fred snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I know," George answered brightly, turning to give me another quick hug. "Happy Birthday, soon to be sister-in-law," he said, planting a quick, friendly kiss to the crown of my head. He let go of me and turned to Fred, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let me know tomorrow how it went," he said. "And let me know if Ginny and I were right about Sophie's reaction." He turned back to me. "Remember-stunned silence, tell Fred he's insane, and then snog him senseless. But absolutely no tears. Got it?"

"I'll try," I answered with a shrug and amused raise of my eyebrows.

"No, I need you to do better than try," George said, putting his hands on my shoulders and leaning down to look me in the eyes. "Promise me. No tears."

"George," I laughed.

"Go on, get out of here," Fred said, grabbing George by the arm and playfully shoving him towards the door.

"Promise me, Soph," George called as he walked.

"Goodbye, George," Fred said.

"Yeah, yeah," George said, waving his hand dismissively as he finally left the room. "Have fun tonight!" We heard him yell from the other side of the door. A moment later, the bell above the front door jingled, signaling George had fully left and that Fred and I were finally alone.

"Shall we head upstairs?" Fred asked, taking my hand and tilting his head towards the staircase.

I nodded and let him lead me up to the flat.

"Are you hungry?" Fred asked.

"Starving," I answered as my stomach let out a rumble as if to prove it.

He nodded and sent me a smile. "Me too."

"What did you have planned for dinner?" I asked as Fred headed down the hallway to the bedroom and I wandered over to the window that overlooked the alley. "You mentioned it was a surprise."

"It is," Fred answered, appearing at the end of the hallway again. I saw him shoving something into his pocket before he looked up and smiled at me. "Are you ready to go now or do you need a few minutes?"

I thought that over. "Give me five?" I asked.

Fred nodded and I hurried past him for the bedroom. "Should I change my clothes?" I asked, grabbing a brush and running it through my hair as I stuck my head back out into the hallway and looked down it into the living room at Fred. "You didn't give me any information."

"Because there's no information to give," Fred chuckled, leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway and looking at me. "The clothes you're wearing now are perfect."

I nodded and disappeared back into the bedroom. I set the brush down, finished fixing my hair, and even put some mascara on. And then I finally rejoined Fred in the living room.

He grinned when he saw me. "You clean up nicely," he said.

I laughed. "I barely did anything. Now let's get out of here. I'm hungry."

Fred rolled his eyes. "What a demanding birthday girl you are."

I smiled and slipped my hand into his, walking backwards as I tugged him forwards. "Please?" I asked as sweetly as I could.

"That's better," Fred laughed, swinging our intertwined hands upwards as he twirled me around and leaned in for a quick kiss before pulling open the door so that we could leave.

Moments later, we'd Apparated into Hogsmeade and I looked up at Fred with a teasing smile.

"You're not taking me to Madame Puddifoots, are you?" I asked.

"You caught me-that's exactly where I'm taking you," he said, starting to walk down the street and gently pulling me with him.

"Liar. So it's the Three Broomsticks, then?" I guessed.

Fred didn't say anything. He just continued to grin as we kept walking.

We passed the Three Broomsticks and I frowned slightly. Even though I'd known Fred was kidding about Madame Puddifoots, we passed that restaurant as well without a second glance. It wasn't until we'd passed by the third of the four Hogsmeade dining locations that I spoke again. "Fred, the only place left that sells food is a bakery. Don't tell me we're having cake for dinner."

"That's not a bad idea," Fred answered. "I wish I'd thought of it actually."

"What are we doing?" I asked.

Fred kept quiet until we were nearing the bakery. He began to slow down and I started to think that was where we were headed, but instead Fred stopped at the shop just past it. It was a vacant building, previously occupied by an antique store that had closed down about a month ago.

"Martha loved coming to this shop when it was open," I said, stepping forward and peering through the window at the darkened and empty shop. "She was so disappointed it closed. She said it was a family business run by an elderly couple. When the wife passed away, the husband couldn't run it without her and their children had no interest in doing so either, so they closed down the business." I turned back to Fred. "Sad, isn't it?"

"For them," Fred said, smiling slightly.

"It is sad! Why are you smiling?" The corners of my mouth turned down in a frown as I looked at him.

Fred smiled wider and dug through his pocket, pulling out a small, ornate key. He stepped forward and stuck it into the front door of the shop, twisting it until the lock clicked. He ignored the look of confusion and alarm on my face as he pulled the key from the lock, grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open. "After you," he said, gesturing for me to enter the shop.

"Are you insane?" I asked him.

"Ah, if you remember what George said, you're not supposed to ask me that quite yet," he said. "Give it a few minutes and ask me again."

"Fred!" I exclaimed, putting my hands on my hips.

"Come inside and I'll explain. Promise. Cross my heart."

Fred swiped his finger in an X motion across his chest before tilting his head towards the doorway.

"This feels illegal," I muttered, making my way into the dark shop and holding up my wand. "Lumos," I muttered.

Fred laughed as he followed me inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. "It feels illegal to you, and yet you came inside anyway."

"Because I trust you," I told him. "And you did have a key. Which I don't understand." I gazed wearily at the key as Fred stuck it back into his pocket. He lit the tip of his own wand, then waved it and caused two balls of light to spill out and hover near the ceiling. They illuminated the center area of the shop with enough light that we could see where we were going more effectively than the small amount of light from our wands could, but the shop still remained fairly dim.

"Nox," I said, turning the light off the end of my wand. I looked up and my eyes widened as they fell on the back area of the room, where there was a counter that had previously held the antique shop's register. Now, it was covered with two plates, napkins, silverware, a case of butter beer, and a picnic basket.

Fred was already standing behind the counter, lighting the candles. He reached into the picnic basket and I saw him remove my birthday gift from Kayla. The shot glass and the firewhiskey-plus an extra shot glass for himself.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, glancing up at me. "I sent this on ahead while you were fixing your hair earlier. I told you we were going to do birthday shots."

I dazedly made my way over to him, not sure what to say. I stood there on the opposite side of the counter, watching as he unpacked two mini chicken pot pies-each the perfect size for one person.

"Those smell like Martha's," I commented, watching the steam rising from them.

"They are Martha's," Fred said with a smile. "She made them just for us. She also made the chocolate cake that's still in the basket and you'll get to see later." He reached for the firewhiskey and filled up both shot glasses with the reddish-brown liquid. He arranged the two glasses next to each other and then rested his palms on the counter, leaning forward on them slightly and smiling at me. "Happy Birthday, Soph," he whispered.

"Thank you," I said slowly, studying Fred's face intently as if I were searching for clues. The light from the candles danced across his face and hair, making his hair look even more vibrantly red than usual. The light hit his eyes and I could see they were bright with excitement, but I could also see from his eyes and his smirk that he knew something I didn't. "But...to say I'm confused would be an understatement. What are you not telling me?"

"I have a surprise for you," he whispered. "Other than all this." He gestured around to the food and drinks.

"You know I don't like surprises," I said quietly. "And I'm also still not entirely sure what all of this is." I looked around before looking back at Fred. "Not that I don't appreciate the effort. The food, the candles, the cake...I just don't understand why we had to break in to an abandoned shop for it."

"We didn't break in," Fred said. "I got permission to be here. I had the key, remember?"

"Yes, but how?"

Fred swallowed. "From the Ministry agent that's in charge of selling the building. When the elderly man shut down the antique shop, he naturally put the building up for sale."

I stared at him for a moment, trying to piece together what he was getting at. "You're buying the place?" I asked. "Are you and George opening another branch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" I brightened. "I knew you were doing well, but that's great! Having a Hogsmeade branch would-"

"Sophie," Fred laughed. He shook his head. "George and I aren't buying it."

My face fell back into a frown as my eyebrows came together. "Then how did you manage to get the Ministry agent to give you a key? I hardly think he'd grant you access just to wine and dine your fiancée on her birthday."

Fred snorted with laughter. "Well-you're partially wrong. He did allow me access to the building just for tonight to set all this up. But there's more to it than that. That's where my surprise-and your birthday gift-comes in." He reached over to the other side of the picnic basket and picked up a manilla folder. He placed it in front of him and slid it across the counter towards me before opening it to reveal a stack of paperwork. "George and I aren't interested in buying the building-but you might be."

I stared at him in silence for a moment before letting out a short, harsh laugh. "Me?"

"For your photography shop, gallery, and studio," Fred said. "You've been looking for places, but I know you've also been busy with the wedding and everything and haven't had much time. Then, this place became available and I thought it was perfect. So I took the initiative." He began to shuffle through the paperwork as he hurriedly gave me a basic rundown of it and I gaped blankly down at the papers, barely processing any of what he was saying.

"Fred..." I whispered.

"Look...the Ministry agent gave me all the paperwork required for you to sign," Fred went on, holding the paperwork out towards me. "George and I read through it and it all looks good. Even Tom read through it and he agreed. And then-"

"Tom...?" I breathed, trying to keep up. That explained how Martha seemed to already know something about a location-a location with an office.

"And look," Fred went on, shuffling through the paperwork and pulling out something else. "This is all from Gringott's. I know you ended up opening a vault there, which is great, because you started to familiarize yourself with the bank and the goblins. So then when you apply for a loan-"

"Loan?" I asked, still feeling as if my brain were lagging. I could feel my heart pounding and my fingers gripping the edge of the counter as I struggled to process what was happening.

"Yeah," Fred said, "I know you've saved up quite a bit in the last few years, but I wasn't sure if it was enough to buy this place. This is how much it is now..." he pointed to an amount included in the paperwork and my eyes widened.

"Shit, that's a lot," I breathed.

"George and I think we can negotiate the price down a bit," Fred went on, "but I thought it couldn't hurt to get the paperwork for the loan anyway. If you're in, George and I can start negotiating tomorrow and then if you still have to take out a loan, you'd just have to sign these forms and wait to be approved. And if you're approved, you just have to sign this paperwork here from the Ministry agent and the building is yours. And if you're not approved for the loan-which I'm sure you will be, but if you're not, then George and I are more than able, and more than happy to-"

"Fred, stop," I said firmly. I was gripping the counter so tightly by now that my knuckles were white. I vaguely noticed Fred looking down at my hands as he abruptly stopped talking. "No," I said.

"No to what?" Fred asked. "No to all of it or no to the option of George and I loaning you money?"

"No to all of it!" I exclaimed. "No to all of it, but especially to you and George loaning me money!" I finally raised my eyes from the array of paperwork spread out in front of me to look directly at Fred. "I won't let you!" I shook my head rapidly. "This-this is-you are-"

"Insane?" Fred asked, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smile.

"Yes! You're insane." I took a step back and ran my hands through my hair as I stared back down at all of those forms, my mind brimming with all the information Fred had just dumped on me.

After a short moment of silence, Fred came around the counter and stopped in front of me. "Hey," he whispered, putting his hands on either side of my head as I looked up at him. "Hey-it's okay. I overwhelmed you." He gave me another tiny smile. "Sorry."

I took in a deep, shaky breath. "It just-it was all happening so fast," I whispered.

"Nothing's set in stone yet," Fred said. "All I did was put together all the necessary information and all the paperwork. I even read through it all for you-along with George and Tom, like I said. I convinced Henry-that's the agent from the Minstry-to hold off on showing the space to anyone else for a few days so you can think about it. I told him I was certain you'd take it."

"Why would you tell him that?" I asked, looking up at him in desperation.

"Because it's true. You're overwhelmed now, but once you give it some thought, I am certain you'll take it. I mean, look around-it's a great space. It could use a little updating and remodeling to make it yours and to make it work for what you intend to do with it. But it's perfect. Like I said, George and I can do a little negotiating and get the price down, and I'm sure you'll get approved for the loan, should you still need to apply. George and I will walk you through all of it." He paused for a moment. "I thought by getting all of the information together in advance, it wouldn't overwhelm you as much."

I let out a feeble laugh. "I love you for considering that, but your delivery of it all is what needed work. You know I hate surprises and you surprised me anyway. You always do."

Fred laughed. "I know." He paused again. "Will you think about it, though?"

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath before slowly letting it out and nodding. "Yeah. I will."

Fred grinned and leaned in to give my forehead a gentle kiss. "I'm glad," he murmured, his lips moving against my skin. He kissed my forehead again. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whispered.

"Happy Birthday," Fred said, giving me one more quick kiss, this time on the lips, before pulling away and going back around the counter to start putting away all the paperwork. "We can go over all of this in more detail later on," he said. "But now, it's time for drinks." He set the manilla folder aside and then pushed one of the shot glasses towards me before picking up the second one for himself. He held it out towards me. "To the birthday girl," he said.

I picked up my own shot glass and clinked it against his. "Cheers," I said before we both raised our glasses to our lips and tilted our heads back, downing the alcohol.

I coughed and swiped my hand across my lips as I set my glass back down on the counter. I wrinkled my nose a bit as I fought back a shiver.

Fred laughed and set his own glass down, seemingly unbothered by the burning feeling of the alcohol. He took my empty glass and moved it to the side before leaning forward on his palms as he studied me. "Want to do another one?" He asked.

"No, I'd like to remember all this in the morning," I snorted.

"You get blackout drunk off of two shots?" Fred asked with a laugh.

"No," I laughed. "I just meant that the more shots you do, the easier it is to just keep going."

"I'll drink to that," Fred said. He poured another shot for himself and downed it before setting his own glass aside.

I leaned on the counter and rested my elbows on the worn surface as I put my chin in my hands and looked across at him.

"What?" He asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I just can't believe you went through all this trouble for me." I gestured around the room and then tilted my head towards the folder of paperwork.

"It wasn't trouble," Fred answered, shaking his head.

"You're busy enough as it is and you still met with the agent from the Ministry, convinced him to hold off on showing this place to anyone else, had him give you copies of the paperwork, went to Gringott's for the loan paperwork, read through it all..." I shook my head. "And you were still ready to wake up tomorrow and negotiate on the price."

"It still wasn't any trouble," Fred said. "It was exciting. I could barely wait to tell you the news. I thought it would make you really happy."

"It did make me happy," I assured him. "Maybe I kind of panicked at first, but..." I sighed and looked around the room again, "I just need time to think. And I'm amazed by all that you did already and are still willing to do. Although, I still don't love the idea of you having to loan me money."

"I'd do it in a heartbeat," Fred answered swiftly. "And George would, too."

I couldn't help myself-my eyes suddenly filled up with tears and my throat constricted.

"Sophie, what did George tell you?" Fred asked with a laugh. "No crying. You can't."

I let out a watery laugh. "I can't help it!" I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and sniffled as I took in a few calming breaths. After a few seconds, I lowered my hands from my face and looked back at Fred. "There," I said. "Tears are gone. None of them left my eyes, so I'd say that I didn't actually cry. I just teared up."

Fred laughed. "Works for me. Anything to prove Ron wrong."

I smiled and leaned across the counter again to give Fred a kiss. "Thank you," I whispered. "For loving me so much."

"It's not exactly hard to do, but you're welcome," he whispered back. His eyes wandered over my face. "George did also say that his bet was on you snogging me senseless. Any thoughts on that?"

I smiled and let out a giggle. Wordlessly, I leaned over and kissed him again, harder this time, one of my hands resting on his cheek. He kissed me back for a moment before pulling away slightly.

"You're going to have to come over here to this side of the counter," he murmured.

I laughed again before turning around, hoisting myself up onto the counter, and then spinning so that I was facing Fred. I dropped my legs back down and smiled as he came to stand in between them, one of his hands curling around to the small of back and pulling me towards him as he leaned in to kiss me again.

My hands wandered into his hair and I let out a sigh as Fred began kissing my neck. My skin prickled with warmth and my mind felt foggy-not only from Fred's touch but from the shot of firewhiskey I'd done earlier-I'd done it on an empty stomach and it was already hitting me.

Fred's hands were on the hem of my shirt and starting to slide it upwards, when we were interrupted by my stomach letting out the loudest growl yet.

Fred laughed and gave my neck one last kiss before pulling away. "Maybe we should address your very angry stomach before we keep going."

I groaned in frustration, but let Fred pull away. I was really hungry, so I couldn't bring myself to argue.

"I hope those chicken pot pies aren't cold by now," I commented as Fred walked around the counter and spread a blanket on the floor before charming the candles to hover in the air above it.

"Nope-they're charmed to stay warm," he said, grabbing the two pot pies, which were, in fact, still steaming, and set them down on the blanket along with the napkins, silverware, and the butterbeer.

I hopped off the counter and walked around to join Fred on the blanket. He passed me a fork as I sat crossed legged and picked up one of the chicken pot pies. Fred uncapped two butter beers and set one down beside me.

"This is so good, I could cry," I said, letting out a happy sigh as I took the first bite of my dinner.

"I think you're happier eating that chicken pot pie than you were when I was kissing you," Fred chuckled. "I'm a little insulted."

"Shh," I said quietly, closing my eyes as I took another bite. "Let me enjoy my pot pie in peace."

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his drink.

We made our way through dinner, a few drinks, and some conversation before Fred suddenly jumped up, cleared away the empty dishes and bottles and helped me to my feet. "Come on, I've got one other thing to show you."

"Another surprise?" I asked, looking at him warily.

Fred shook his head. "Sort of, but not really. It's just a feature of this place that I wanted to point out."

He led me to a door behind the counter and pushed it open to reveal a back room. He lit his wand and led me inside the room.

"What is it?" I asked, looking around.

"Your future office-potentially," he said, gesturing widely with his arm. He dropped my hand and crossed to the far wall, raising his wand to shine the light on it. "That photo Martha gave you? It would be perfect right on this wall. You could put a desk here, in front of it..."

"Mhm," I nodded, shooting him a knowing smile. "And how did Martha know that photo would be perfect on that wall? How did she know to tell me so? And how did she know to use the word office?"

"Obviously I told her," Fred said. "She was overjoyed when I brought the paperwork over for Tom to read. Kept asking me questions about the place. Wanted to hear all about it. She definitely cried. Practically bawled with happiness, actually.

"Of course she did," I laughed. "That's Martha for you."

Fred turned to look at me with a smile. "Do you really want to disappoint her by turning this place down?"

"So now you're using Martha to guilt me into this?" I asked, laughing again.

"No, I'm just making a point," Fred shrugged. He took my hand again and led me back out to the main area. "You can display your photos all over the walls. You can sell them framed like you have been and also sell frames separately as well other photo related products. Maybe over here in this corner, you could sell postcards and smaller prints of your photos." He pointed to the corner he was talking about. "And over here maybe you could sell photo albums or scrapbooks-or both. This whole third of the space could be for selling photography related products and the rest would be for your personal photos. There's also a second floor, which could be a studio-you know if people want to come in and have you take their photo." He beamed at me. "I can see it all now."

"That's obvious," I commented lightly, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Can't you picture it?" He asked. "If not, we'll look at more places. I want you to love it."

I walked along the length of the front window, staring at the low, wide windowsill and imagined setting up a few small easels there with photos displayed on them. I turned and looked at the walls, picturing my photos hanging along them. A display of postcards in the corner, like Fred had said. So many of my own special memories on display for people to see-and even buy if they were moved to. I turned and looked at the front door, imagining people leaving with a new photo that they'd just had to have to hang over their mantle because it reminded them of a memory of their own or perhaps they were just drawn to its beauty or maybe it just meant something to them, however small. Just like the photo Martha had given me that I had taken of Diagon Alley. I'd said myself that I liked that I could see Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in a photo that was taken from the Leaky Cauldron. My two homes, bookending the quaint little alley that I'd grown to love.

I turned back to Fred. "I'll have to come up with a name, don't you agree?"

"So is that a yes?" Fred asked hopefully.

I nodded and let out a puff of air as I smiled. "Yeah-I really don't think I could walk away from this. If I think about turning it down, I get the feeling I'll regret it. And I can picture myself here, and I like what I picture." I smiled. "No pun intended. So I have to say yes."

Fred let out a loud whoop and surged forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off the ground as he spun me around. I let out a squeal of surprise and gripped his shoulders as I began to laugh.

"Merlin, I'm so glad you said yes," Fred breathed, setting me down, taking my face in his hands and kissing me.

"I thought you were so confident I would," I said. "You seemed to already be telling people it was a done deal."

"I was confident, but it's still nice to be right." He leaned in and kissed me again before pulling away. "As for a name for your lovely new shop, what about something like..." he trailed off and looked at me thoughtfully before a suggestive smirk took over his face. "You could call it Flash Me!"

An expression of horror and disgust immediately distorted my face as Fred began to laugh.

"You're absolutely no help!" I cried, using both hands to playfully swat at him.

He caught me by the wrists and stopped me from hitting him again as his laughter slowed. "What? I thought it was a great suggestion!"

"Of course you did-your mind is perpetually in the gutter!"

"So you don't want to name your future business Flash Me?" Fred asked, pretending to be aghast.

"Such a surprise, isn't it?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I leaned against the wall. "There's absolutely no way that name would lead to anything going wrong."

"What do you mean?" Fred laughed. "I think it's perfect."

"Uh-huh," I said, looking at him teasingly. "Sure. But I can only imagine how you'd react if people kept coming inside expecting me to flash them. Or them trying to flash me. I'm sure Marcus Flint and his stupid friends would be the first in line just to be crude and antagonize you in the process. How would you feel about that?"

"Ooh, good point," Fred mused. "Maybe I don't like the Flash Me idea after all."

I let out a scoff of laughter. "Incredible." I was quiet as I thought again. "I do like using the flash concept in some way, though. Maybe something like-I don't know, Flashes of Life? Instead of light?"

Fred grinned. "That is a way better idea than mine."

I smiled back. "It's just an idea. We have a little bit of time to think about it."

Fred nodded. "A little, but not much-I'm hoping this place will be yours within the next few weeks at the most. Then we'd just have to get it renovated and ready for opening."

"You certainly move quickly," I commented.

"Can you keep up?" Fred challenged, raising his eyebrow as he came closer to me.

"I think so," I whispered, closing my eyes as he leaned in and kissed me, his arms snaking around my waist.

I pulled away just slightly and smiled. "Can we eat cake now?" I whispered.

Fred let out a half-laugh, half-groan. "Merlin, all you're thinking about tonight is food. Is it too much to ask that you at least act like you like me?"

"Yeah, that is a pretty big ask," I said. "It's really tough to even pretend to like you."

"Jerk," Fred scoffed. He gave me one more quick kiss before pulling away to take out the cake.

It was Martha's chocolate cake, the same one we'd had for my twenty-first birthday. This one was decorated on top with the words Happy Birthday, Sophie in purple icing. Fred stuck two candles on one side of the cake and three on the other.

"Only five candles?" I asked.

"Two," Fred said, pointing to the left side of the cake, "and three." He pointed to the right side. "Twenty-three."

I laughed. "Clever."

Fred sang a horribly out of tune rendition of Happy Birthday to me and I blew out the candles in one breath, a wide smile on my face as I did so. Fred cut the cake right afterwards, handing me a piece before cutting one for himself.

"How is it?" He asked, glancing at me as I took a bite. He set his piece of cake on a plate before licking some frosting off of his finger. "The frosting is amazing, I can say that for sure."

"All of it is amazing," I said. "Martha's baking is rivaled only by your mother's."

After cake, Fred and I cleaned up all of the dirty dishes and drink bottles, putting everything back in the picnic basket except for the blanket, which we huddled under on the floor, as we sat leaning against the counter. I draped my legs over Fred's and leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around me. A moment later, I felt him gently kiss the top of my head and I lifted my head to look up at him.

"Thanks for a great night," I murmured.

Fred smiled and brushed some of my hair behind my ear. "Happy Birthday, Soph."

I leaned up to kiss him and felt his hand wander to my hip.

"Is this the part where you finally snog me senseless without having to stop and eat?" He asked impatiently.

"Rude," I scoffed, pulling away slightly before kissing him again. "I was hungry. And it's my birthday. You're just jealous because for a moment there, you were falling second to Martha's cooking."

"Damn right, I was jealous," Fred muttered before leaning in to kiss me again, tugging me as close to him as possible. His hands went to the hem of my shirt again and he swiftly pulled it up and over my head.

"Look at that," I whispered, "you managed to get it off this time without my stomach growling."

Fred snorted with laughter. "Only because I made sure to feed you," he said. He smiled before leaning in to kiss me again.

I shook my head. "Yours has to come off, too," I teased, reaching for the hem of Fred's shirt. He slid my legs off of his lap and sat back on his knees as he allowed me to pull the shirt off, raising his arms so I could pull it over his head. I tossed it to the side and sat back against the counter again, stretching my legs out in front of me as Fred leaned forward, resting his palms on the floor on either side of my hips and gently kissing me.

"Now you have to take this place," he said.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"So every time someone pays you for some merchandise," he whispered, going back to slowly placing kisses down the side of my neck, "and you're standing on the other side of the counter taking their money, you can look at them and remember exactly what we did in the spot they're standing in." He pressed another slow kiss to my collarbone as I squeezed my eyes shut and tilted my head to give him more room.

"You really are insane," I said, my voice coming out in a whisper as I let out a breathy laugh.

"That's what I've heard," he answered, pulling away and smiling at me.

I stared back at him for a moment before reaching out and lovingly running a hand through his hair "I love you," I whispered. "And thank you for everything. Not only just today, but-"

"I love you, too, but when are you going to stop thanking me?" Fred interrupted.

"When I'm no longer grateful. Which will be never," I said, matter-of-factly.

"I still don't think there's a need to thank me quite as much as you do. I don't forget in between, you know."

I laughed and shook my head. "Shut up."

"Are you going to make me?" Fred challenged, raising his eyebrows.

I let out a sigh of frustration and rolled my eyes. "Oh, just come here," I said, sliding a hand to the back of his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.