Roughly nine miles west of Lenham sat the bustling town of Maidstone. Though not as large or as famous as the major cities throughout the country, it was arguably prettier. And it did its best to compete in terms shopping, culture, architecture, and of course, its range of culinary offerings.

Situated on the east bank of the river, Kindlewood restaurant offered a picturesque view of the sunset. It was here Aidan worked as a host. By all accounts, they did a roaring trade and there was even talk of opening up a second location.

Seeing for herself, Gwen believed it.

The rich colour scheme and warm lighting gave the place a cosy feel. The décor consisted of mismatched furniture and deliberately torn wallpaper. Black and white photos of vintage cars and Hollywood icons hung against exposed red brick.

One look told guests to relax. Here, they could expect to be served restaurant-quality food with all the satisfaction of a home-cooked meal. Not bite-sized pieces of avant-garde something or other they couldn't pronounce.

This was a restaurant that made people full. Judging from the expressions of people leaving, it made them happy, too.

Despite catering first and foremost to Muggles, Kindlewood was a popular establishment with wizardkind. At least among those who didn't mind breathing the same air as lesser humans. It was particularly favoured by mixed couples and their half-blood children.

The rule, of course, was to talk quietly or in code about magic or better yet, not at all.

Muggle spouses - Mouses, as they were called - had developed their very own shorthand that allowed them to identify each other without exposing their partners' secrets. They formed a type of support network which Gwen appreciated. It couldn't be easy raising kids who belonged to a world that didn't welcome you or dealing with temper tantrums that could literally blow a fuse.

This was something Aidan's mother undoubtedly understood.

"Don't be nervous," he told her as he took her coat and hung it up.

"I'm not nervous." Maybe she was a little nervous.

Aidan's parents had just returned from a cruise and wanted to meet the stray child their son had taken in. It brought on the jarring realisation that she was the closest thing these people - these complete strangers - had to a grandchild. When in reality, she had no place in their family at all.

It was stupid to worry about disappointing them. If she was such a let-down to her own flesh and blood, why should anyone else be impressed?

Aidan led her and Garrett through the bar where people waited for their tables to be ready. Even this area was full and Gwen overheard someone on the phone apologising that they had no more room tonight.

Private functions were also available which was especially useful for magical patrons. The Maidstone Mermaids, a Quidditch team, took over the whole restaurant each time they won a match. So quite often. On such occasions, the walls were even redecorated with moving photographs of their past league victories. Hardly surprising given that Aidan was both a fan and a reserve player.

Magic permeated the space but it was nothing overwhelming like Diagon or Knockturn Alley. Gwen flinched just thinking about the migraine that almost kept her bedridden after that if not for Garrett's potions. This was more like the Christmas party that saw about twenty witches and wizards in the Thicket at once.

She guessed it was just residual energy built up over years of wizardkind simply being present. Then again, a fair number of wizards were present that night.

Without warning, Gwen found herself on the sidelines of a cheerful encounter between her keepers and a ginger couple who happened to be dining there this evening.

"This is a surprise," Aidan said warmly. "What's the occasion?"

"Finally landed that job in the MMAO," the man kept his voice down but couldn't keep out his unfeigned joy.

The woman beside him smiled proudly, sharing in his happiness though not so much his interest in the work. Whatever the work entailed.

"Congratulations! You've been wanting that for years. Good for you. Are the kids not with you?"

"Not tonight. Muriel has them so we might have a few runaways by the time we get home."

Apparently, that was their cue to take notice of her. She'd been standing right next to Aidan the whole time but in their defence, she was quite short. Gwen was used to being overlooked.

"Is this her?" the woman asked.

Aidan nodded, grinning.

"Guinevere, am I right?" the man addressed her with a friendly smile.

"Gwen," Aidan corrected him.

Their names were Molly and Arthur and they were unreasonably pleased to meet her. Old friends sharing in the excitement of first-time fosterers. They were almost acting as though she'd joined their family.

"We've a boy your age starting school in September." In earshot of Muggles, Molly was careful to use the word school and not a specific name. "Why don't the three of you come by the Burrow sometime this summer, get you introduced? Maybe you could sit together on the train."

"That'd be nice, wouldn't it?" Aidan was asking her a rhetorical question as though the niceness of the whole thing was a given.

"Sure."

Mercifully, Gwen didn't have to engage in very much small talk as someone came over to seat them. Before heading to his table, however, Arthur pulled Garrett aside for a quick word as Aidan led her away.

"That woman you rescued," he spoke quietly and Gwen barely caught what he was saying as the distance between them grew. "I know it's not strictly my department…"

And then she was too far away, climbing up a spiral staircase to a mezzanine that was RESERVED FOR PRIVATE FUNCTION. There was a smaller bar up here, currently unmanned, and only six booths. Aidan opted for the furthest where they could speak most freely.

"All the Weasleys are in Gryffindor," he told her as they took their seats. "Hopefully, you'll get sorted into the same House. You'll have plenty of friends."

"How do you figure that?"

"He means Weasleys aren't exactly in short supply," Garrett caught up with them.

Something about the topic hit a nerve in both men. Gwen blocked out their emotions as best she could, not wanting to know the nature of their pain but easily able to guess. They were here to introduce their pretend kid to the family, after all.

She thought instead about Hogwarts. Even as it kept coming up in conversation, Gwen couldn't foresee herself in any of the four Houses nor even attending the school at all. Not the faintest glimmer of it.

She was starting to wonder if she was the problem or Hogwarts itself. Either she would die or it would burn down before September. Those seemed the most likely explanations for this blind spot.

It was only a few minutes after they sat down that they were joined by the restaurant's owner. A tall, tanned man with the same hazel eyes as Aidan. This was his younger brother, Fintan, and no, she would not be calling him 'Uncle Fin' anytime soon.

"You're not a wizard," she stated plainly after shaking his hand.

"How do you know?"

"I'm psychic."

"That's not the correct term," Garrett, having to repeat himself, sighed heavily.

"I thought you were a half-blood?" she asked Aidan and jokingly added, "Is that the correct term? You said your dad's a wizard."

"He is." It was Fintan who answered. "And our mum's a Muggle. That makes Aidan half-blood and I should be, too, but I'm a Squib."

"You're a squid whose name is Fin and you didn't open a seafood restaurant? What a rebel."

They laughed a little at that.

"Not squid, Squib," Aidan corrected with emphasis on the b. "Sometimes, witches and wizards have non-magical kids. We call them Squibs."

"We're not too common," Fin said in a neutral tone. His feelings on the matter were scarred. An old wound that no longer bothered him.

"But having a Muggle parent makes it more likely?" Gwen assumed.

"That's a misconception," Garrett chimed in. "Squibs are born just as frequently into pure-blood lines. And half-bloods, on average, are no less powerful magically."

"The same goes for Muggle-borns," Aidan added quickly. "Don't you let anyone tell you otherwise."

Gwen nodded along.

Genetics was a fascinating topic but she couldn't quite buy what they were saying. It made sense to her that a Muggle parent would dilute the magic in the blood while someone descended from a long line of wizards should be more powerful. Squibs, she could understand. Even in a pure-blood family. Nature came out with all kinds of birth defects. But how did Muggle-borns pop so randomly into existence?

"Muggle-borns are descended from Squibs," she answered her own question.

"That's the leading theory," Garrett confirmed.

"On both sides? Two Squib lines need to come together to produce a magical child? Or seven."

This piqued Garrett's interest.

"Why seven?"

She shrugged. "Just popped into my head."

"Seven is the most—"

"No," Aidan cut him off. "Not another lecture on Arithmancy. It is not that interesting a subject."

"You never appreciated the subtleties…"

This set off the usual back-and-forth that had become all too familiar to Gwen in such a short time. It was familiar to Fin, too, apparently and he kept them occupied by telling her more about Squibkind.

Though not outright banished from the magical realm, he couldn't live as a wizard. It was not only the important rituals, wedding ceremonies and funeral rites and so forth, that involved acts of sorcery. It was all the way down to the mundane, daily tasks. Even the simplest functions like laundry or keeping food fresh were accomplished with magic.

Those with below-average spellcasting skill were expected to rely on house-elves. Without an elf, they had to make do with either medieval techniques or modern Muggle technology to keep their homes in order. The latter of which was often met with bafflement and disdain.

House-elves couldn't be bound to Squibs and refused to serve them. This left them without any viable means to function in the wizarding world. They were better off making their own way.

Like Mouses, Squibs tended to stick together and carve out their own little corners of the world. Running businesses was the career they most often pursued. Growing up as lesser usually instilled a drive to prove one's worth. And who didn't like a little power over their environment after living so thoroughly powerless?

Fin was no exception but his ambition went hand in hand with love.

From the very beginning, this restaurant was envisioned to be an intersection between the magical and Muggle worlds; to add a welcoming touch to that limbo in which Squibs existed. It had since become a successful hub, helping to keep everyone connected.

If Fin was to be believed, they all knew each other. His last girlfriend had been a Squib herself, in fact. Before she ran off with one of the Mermaids. Perhaps the team wouldn't be so welcome here in future.

When Gwen did the maths, Muggle-borns didn't seem all that hard to produce. Seven out of eight great-grandparents could easily be Squibs if they all kept to their close-knit communities.

It got her thinking about her own lineage. They moved around so much, she never really knew the rest of the family that well. There was every chance someone else in their pool carried the gene. Her parents would have undoubtedly kept it from her.

She could even have distant cousins attending Hogwarts at the same time as her. (If she ever got there.) Maybe that Weasel kid with the chatty parents. Who knew?

"So I'm related to other witches? Somewhere in my family tree?"

Gwen looked to Garrett for the answer now that he'd lost his argument with Aidan. The thought smacked her in the frontal lobe that she might be related to him. The Ethelbanes had been around since Viking times, after all. Over so many generations, they must have produced their fair share of Squibs.

"Most likely," he said.

Gwen was suddenly filled with a deep sense of connection to some ancient past. According to her own theory, she had seven ancestors linking her to magical families. She'd never taken much interest in such things before, having shared so few links with places or people. Now, a new determination gripped her to track down every single one.

Aidan's parents arrived then and so, too, did the moment of truth. They looked like a friendly enough couple. Not overdressed but they'd clearly made an effort to look nice. There were warm smiles all around as the men rose from the table to greet them. Gwen, meanwhile, wanted nothing more than to flee.

They won't like you, a voice in her head mocked her and she answered it, I know.

She got up dutifully and waited silently as they exchanged hugs and hellos, and then all too soon, all eyes were on her.

"This is Gwen," Aidan introduced her.

What did she normally do with her arms? She couldn't remember. She just stood there with too many limbs and waited for someone else to speak.

"Hello, dear." The woman actually crouched down to meet her on her level. The way she might have approached an animal she expected to bolt. "I'm Siobhan. It's lovely to meet you."

Siobhan had to be a fair few years older than Gwen's own mother and yet she was ageing far more gracefully. Maybe it was the warmth in her eyes and her smile. The same warmth that radiated from Aidan's core. Her skin looked a little leathery and thin from too many days in the sun, and Gwen suspected those expertly dyed curls must be turning grey underneath. Yet she still had a youthful spark, a certain bounce in her step that most people lost after trudging from one adult responsibility to the next.

On top of all that, she was genuinely excited about this meeting. The feeling crackled in the space between them.

Gwen's mouth went dry. She'd been presented to superior officers before but nothing prepared her for this. She probably should have said something or at least nodded. Apparently, standing completely still and staring unblinkingly was the way to go.

Her ear hurt. She could feel Papa thump her for her lack of respect.

Stupid ear. Stupid unblinking eyes. Stupid mouth that wasn't making words happen.

Garrett was the one to suggest they all sit down and he actually stuck quite close to her which made a change. As if they were a united front. It seemed he understood what it was like to be on the outside of this family and clueless as to what to do with all their open affection.

"Order whatever you like," the man instructed her. "I know the bloke who owns the place."

Half-hearted chuckles and head shakes spoke of how often that joke had been told.

Gwen's immediate impression of him was that his personality was surprisingly big for such a twig of a man. Humour bubbled beneath a frail-looking surface of protruding bone and receding hair. He was a geyser, ready to blow. But he also sported some nasty scars. His right eye appeared glassy and unfocussed, and then Gwen realised it was, in fact, glass. Perhaps he misplaced the real one while fighting Nazis. But then, she wasn't sure he was old enough for that.

"I'm Mr. Aidan's Dad, by the way."

"No, you are not," Siobhan chided. "His name is Cyrus."

"This morning I was 'you clod.'"

"You're not pronouncing it right. I said it with love."

So this was how Aidan became fluent in bickering. Gwen breathed a little easier knowing she wasn't expected to call them Grandma and Grandpa.

They kept the conversation light to start off. Garrett got them talking about the cruise while Fin fetched drinks from the bar. Gwen only had to listen for now which was far more comfortable than the interrogation she'd imagined.

"...and then on the way from Quito to Baltra, we met the most adorable family…"

Wherever you went on holiday, there was always that one couple who treated vacations as a chance to make friends. Siobhan and Cyrus were that couple. Gwen's mother would have hated them. Oh, she'd grit her teeth and smile at them but underneath, that knife of irritation would scrape over her again and again as though she was a slice of burnt toast.

Gwen almost chuckled. It bubbled in her throat but then grew heavy, turning into a lump. A sob. She choked it down. She didn't want to draw attention.

Inevitably, though, the focus shifted to her. They asked about her favourite subjects in school and what she liked doing for fun and what she wanted to be when she grew up. The standard questions.

They carefully avoided any mention of her parents or her disownment which was impressive, really, considering that was the whole reason she was here in the first place. Still, Siobhan tried to establish a connection based on being blind-sided by magic.

"It takes a lot of getting used to. You spend your whole life taking the bus, and then someone comes along and tells you they can fly."

"They're called planes, dear," Cyrus said.

"Don't be a prat. It can be a real struggle."

"You say that like you're the only non-magical person here," Fin said.

"It's different for you. You grew up around this stuff. Your lot don't realise what a shock it is."

Your lot.

There was a divide, it seemed, between Mouses and Squibs. Though they traversed the same waters, they did not see themselves as being in the same boat.

Over time, Gwen would learn that neither community related to the other's experience very well nor did they lean on each other for support. If anything, they competed over who had the harder time of it.

Mouse, half-blood, pure-blood, Squib, Gwen took stock of all the lines drawn between each member of this family. Biological, cultural lines only. Emotionally, those boundaries blurred into nothingness. These people loved each other, she could feel it. In spite of everything that made them each different. How did they manage that?

"One of Aidan's friends in school was Muggle-born," Siobhan told her. "That girl's mother, let me tell you, as much as she held it together for her daughter, she was beside herself. She'd be on the phone, crying, every week. Now, it wasn't that she minded Heather being a witch, that wasn't it. She just couldn't cope with all the changes. I mean, the poor woman's whole world flipped upside down and I know how that feels."

Gwen could have pointed out that she always knew magic existed but chose not to argue or talk about herself. Siobhan was only trying to be considerate and it was an assumption everyone would make about any Muggle-born.

Gwen would have to get used to it. In a way, she already was.

She'd grown up in a world of colour with people who could only see in black and white. They never believed her when she told them what she saw and she never accepted when they told her she was crazy.

It was something of a relief to finally be around people who knew magic was real. Even if those people happened to be gay.

"Her husband was no help," Siobhan went on. "They're divorced now. She's much better off. Oh! Did you hear Heather's pregnant again?"

The question was directed at Aidan. He maintained his relaxed posture but inside, he stiffened. Gwen hadn't realised he could lie so smoothly.

"Yes, she wrote to me," he said with a smile. "It's wonderful news."

He was sincere in his sentiments. He wasn't just saying it. So perhaps he wasn't lying so much as masking his pain. Did he realise he couldn't hide it from her? When he noticed her studying him, he smiled again and winked. No, he didn't realise.

Aidan didn't see her for what she was.

Garrett did.

During a lull in the conversation, Siobhan pulled a festively-wrapped gift from the impossible depths of her tote bag. Maybe her wizard husband place the Extension Charm on it for her. Then again, women her age seemed to just have that ability all on their own. She held out the present to Gwen.

"I picked it out. I let him wrap it," she said it like it was obvious from the shoddy workmanship. Despite copious amounts of tape, there were loose corners sticking out. "Not even by hand. He actually used magic, can you believe?"

"One of my better attempts."

"I wasn't sure what you like," she said nervously which made no sense. How could anyone expect her to know the first thing about her new sort-of-granddaughter? They were strangers.

"Thank you." The moment Gwen touched the box to take it from her, she knew it was a Barbie doll. She tried not to grimace and just focused on unwrapping the stupid thing. If she upset these people, she might not have a place to sleep tonight.

Luckily, she didn't have to pretend to like it before Aidan swooped in.

"I said eleven, not seven. Put your hearing aids in."

"Shush you. I didn't know what to get. We never had girls."

"But you were a girl? Once upon a time. Back in the war."

"Was that the first one or the second?" Fin joined in the joke.

"There was a second War of the Roses?"

Siobhan huffed indignantly at the level of cheek on display. Gwen wasn't sure what to make it. If she'd ever spoken that way to her parents, she'd get a slap.

"At least she's not trying to tell me it came from Santa," she heard herself speak. She either wanted to defend Siobhan or embarrass Aidan, possibly both.

"Oh, this one believed in Santa till he was twelve," Cyrus chimed in.

"You told me he was a wizard!" It was Aidan's turn to be indignant. He looked to his brother for support. "He did, didn't he? He even took us to the North Pole and introduced us to a jolly old man and his toy-making house-elves. It was convincing."

"It was his mate Roy from down the pub."

"It was convincing!"

By this point, Cyrus was laughing like he found himself hilarious.

"And it wasn't the North Pole, you pillock, it was Scotland." Fin spoke to Gwen next. "Have fun with that, by the way. That was the one good thing about not going to Hogwarts."

"Wait, no one said anything about Scotland." Gwen didn't do well in the cold. Maybe that was why she couldn't foresee herself at the school.

"If only you had a book on the subject," Garrett's voice was laden with sarcasm.

He'd been growing increasingly annoyed that she was hogging a book she didn't even bother to read. She'd happily hand it over if he just asked but he preferred to mutter about it passive aggressively over breakfast.

"I've been busy reading my Muggle literature about being psychic." She'd finished it, in fact.

"For the last time, that is not the right term."

This got them onto the subject of her powers and the kidnapping they thwarted. They left out the part when Gwen almost had her throat cut. Aidan painted it as a daring yet no-reason-to-panic-mother-no-really-we're-fine rescue, the credit for which he gave primarily to her.

"A Seer? Merlin's beard, I've never met one before." Cyrus glanced at Aidan. "You don't count."

"Hey, I've gotten some very useful insights from tea leaves over the years!" Aidan, in turn, shifted his attention to Garrett. "They told me not to give up on you."

"Trust a Hufflepuff to leave their life choices to a plant."

Thankfully, they didn't dwell on the rarity of her gift as though she was an exhibit in a freak show. Gwen had always been proud of her abilities and on the one hand, she felt rather smug to learn not many witches could do what she did. On the other hand, it didn't exactly bode well for how welcome she'd be in this world if she was just as odd here as she had been in the world that cast out.

Maybe Seers were only rare because people didn't like them enough to breed with them.

Gwen certainly had a habit of making people uncomfortable, at the very least. She stole a glance at Garrett and he felt it. He gave no outward indication but he always tensed up on the inside when her gaze landed on him. And there was that name in his head again, Claudia.

Who the fuck was Claudia?

The evening carried on in much the same fashion. Playful ribbing and reminiscing between family members while Gwen spoke out loud maybe a grand total of eight times. Her discomfort was nowhere near the level she'd feared but at no point did she feel she belonged at that table. Because, of course, she didn't.

"Are you paying her extra to babysit?"

Her keepers were going away for the next twenty-four hours and leaving Gwen in Tup's charge. That was the plan, at any rate. If Aidan could be persuaded to leave. He was running through instructions for her care and how to reach them for the eighth time. She counted.

"We don't pay her at all," Garrett answered. "You don't pay an animal to be your pet; money has no value to them. It's the same with house-elves."

"It's the same except they do all your chores for you?"

Frankly, she was getting agitated. She hadn't ever enjoyed making her bed or doing dishes, but it was routine and they were now in February. Two full months had passed since her day-to-day version of normal blew up in her face.

"You try giving a house-elf nothing to do," he dared her. "They lose their goddamn minds."

She tried precisely that.

That evening after dinner, Gwen left a single pea on her plate and refused to let Tup take it away, claiming she wasn't done yet. She managed to keep this going for almost forty minutes before the elf rolled up a newspaper and whacked her on the nose.

No meltdowns yet…

They didn't even make it to the room.

No sooner had the lift doors shut did Garrett have Aidan pinned against the mirrored wall in a hot, urgent kiss. It took him by surprise, to say the least. Even after all this time, it was usually Aidan who took the lead. Having Garrett initiate was such an intense turn on, it was almost a kink.

He groaned when he felt his husband's teeth tug on his bottom lip, and opened up for him. The feel of his tongue slipping into his mouth went straight to his cock.

Then there were hands on him, groping him through his clothes. Technically, they were still in public. They could get caught. The risk made Aidan throb but for Garrett, it usually put him off. He had to be insanely riled up to take that chance.

"Stop overthinking," Garrett broke the kiss and nipped his earlobe. His hands roved their way from his chest to his arse. His lips trailed a path down his throat.

"There's a camera," Aidan warned him breathlessly. Even as his nerves spiked, saying those words made him clench around nothing. Fuck, he wanted Garrett's fingers in there.

He caught sight of himself in the opposite mirror. Cheeks flushed, eyes blown black with lust, mouth open for more. He thought he might actually be drooling a little.

"Here's the blind spot," Garrett countered. "I could do all kinds of depraved things to you right here."

Proving his point, he pressed his own hard on against Aidan's through their clothes, grinding his hips as he sank his teeth into just the right spot on his neck.

Aidan moaned loud enough, the people on whatever floor they just passed probably heard. He barely cared. His fingers wove into Garrett's hair to hold him in place and urge him on.

Frankly, he was a little worried he might finish right then and there, he was that pent up. Not that they hadn't found any satisfaction over recent weeks but they'd certainly been holding back with a kid in the house.

God, he missed bending Garrett over the kitchen counter. That was how their last anniversary started.

Then, in another whiplash change of pace, Garrett stopped. He pulled away just as the doors opened. With a smirk, he took hold of his suitcase and strolled out. Aidan's own bag had fallen from his shoulder somewhere along the way. He rushed to grab it and chase after him.

The worst part was how Garrett still looked immaculate and no one would suspect a thing. Meanwhile, if they so much as glanced at Aidan, they might just clutch their pearls.

"You son of a bitch," he said under his breath as he caught up with his devil of a husband. He was still hard and couldn't quite walk straight. Why had he worn such tight jeans?

"True, but let's not talk about her." Garrett slipped his free hand into Aidan's back pocket as they walked. "Besides, don't pretend you didn't wear those jeans on purpose."

"You used to tell me denim was offensive to fashion, your immune system, and God."

"What can I say? You've converted me." Garrett removed his hand along with the room key. Aidan hadn't even noticed they'd reached their door. "And cured my allergies."

They got inside and unceremoniously dumped their luggage. Aidan didn't take in a single detail of the room. One or both of them closed the distance between them. Probably both. It didn't matter which.

"Now where were we?" The look in Garrett's eye was pure sin.

"Going to dinner. At seven," Aidan reminded him. "And then the theatre."

"We'll make it." His hands were on him again, already popping open the buttons of his jeans.

"We won't."

Garrett paused his roving hands and lips to look Aidan deep in the eye.

"Do you care?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He dropped to his knees and pulled down everything that was between him and the thing he wanted.

"The bed's right over th—" Aidan gasped as his entire length was engulfed in the hot, wet heat of his husband's mouth.

Garrett wasted no time, taking him down his throat faster than he'd ever done before. His wandering hands kneaded his buttocks, pulling him deeper, before spreading his cheeks; his fingertips brushed his puckered hole.

He tapped on it impatiently and Aidan knew what that meant. Reaching around, he waved his hand and barely got the words out to cast a lubrication spell. His mouth and throat went dry as the magic stole moisture from elsewhere in his body.

A very muffled Accio lube and idiot vibrated around the tip of Aidan's cock because Garrett refused to take it out of his mouth long enough to chide him. He was right, of course. They had packed lube. Had he been thinking straight, Aidan might have used the Summoning Charm.

But then a finger slipped inside him and he couldn't think at all. It worked him open knuckle by knuckle until it was joined by a second, working his prostate until he was weak in the knees.

"Stop, stop, stop, I don't want to cum yet," the jumbled words came out in a rush. His cock was released and he caught his breath. "Plus, I think my legs might give out."

"Someone's getting old."

"Someone's getting better at taking me balls-deep down their throat."

Garrett never used to do that. A few self-conscious licks here and there, and that was it. Now he swallowed. Every last drop. Aidan had to bite his lip to hold back a groan just thinking about it.

"How could I resist?"

Garrett drew himself up and suddenly Aidan could taste himself on his tongue. The kiss was broken just as quickly as it started. Garrett pushed him towards the bed.

Then they noticed they'd been given twin beds instead of a double because the room was booked for two men. They'd had this issue before.

With a flick of his wrist, Aidan pushed the beds together then cupped Garrett's face, making him focus on him.

"Don't let them spoil it."

Garrett drew his wand and transfigured the two beds into one.

"They can fucking try." His words burned up in another searing kiss. Abruptly, he pulled away. "But on that note. Imperturo."

From the tip of his wand, an iridescent bubble emerged. It grew to fill every corner of the room, moulding itself into each nook and cranny before turning invisible.

"Can't have our neighbours leaving complaints." Again.

Garrett tossed his wand aside and locked eyes with him.

"Strip."

Aidan was only too happy to oblige.

Naked, he was pushed down onto the bed by his decidedly dressed husband. Garrett held his gaze as it undid the top button of his shirt with excruciating slowness.

"Get yourself ready for me."

Aidan barely registered the words before two, then three fingers got to work stretching his hole. All the while, he drank in the sight of his husband undressing. Garrett took his time tormenting him. He methodically folded each garment and draped them over the back of a chair. When he walked back over, Aidan had to stop for fear of finishing.

He was beautiful. Raven hair and silver-grey eyes. Lean, toned chest. That delectable V at his hips and those long fingers following the lines, slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers and finally pushing them down to let his cock to spring free.

"How's the bed?" he asked in an infuriatingly casual tone.

"Good." Aidan couldn't tear his eyes from that cock. "Thick."

"Yes, the mattress does look quite thick," Garrett teased him. "And the linen?"

"I…What?" Aidan was at a loss. Was Garrett seriously assessing the room's value for money right now? "I don't care about the fucking linen."

"That doesn't sound like you. Where's your passion for interior design gone?" Garrett pushed his legs apart and climbed onto the bed between them. He reached down at rubbed tight little circles with his thumb against Aidan's hole, never pushing in, never adding enough pressure. "You always drive me mad with it."

"Please…"

Aidan whined as that thumb abruptly left him. But then his legs were being drawn up to rest on Garrett's shoulders. He reached down to spread his cheeks. Ready, so ready.

"Well?" Garrett lined himself up. It was a wonder he had any restraint left at this point. A frustrating wonder. He pushed in. Just the tip. "How does it feel? Tell me about the thread count."

"Need more," was all Aidan managed to say. His brain had turned to mush.

"More?" Inch by devilishly slow inch, he slid deeper. The stretch was fucking exquisite. "I can give you more. Only the best for my darling."

It felt never-ending and then seemingly all at once, he bottomed out. Aidan let out a long, low moan.

"Talk to me."

"Feel so…fuck, so good."

"Yes, my love," Garrett's voice was a lustful rasp in his ear. "You do."

With that, he fucked him. Hard. Aidan cried out as Garrett set a brutal pace. The sounds of moaning and gasping and skin slapping against skin bounced off the magic keeping them contained. By some miracle of stamina, Aidan outlasted him. He felt Garrett filling him while his own pleasure remained just out of reach. It gave him the most delicious, slutty feeling of being used.

Garrett softened inside him before pulling out, then dropped to his knees. With a practised tongue, he ate his own cum out of Aidan's arse while stroking the length of his neglected shaft.

Aidan ran his fingers through his hair and let out a breathless, "Close."

Still wanking him, Garrett replaced his tongue with his fingers as his mouth moved to Aidan's balls and oh so gently sucked.

The sensations threatened to overwhelm him. He could hardly breathe and felt on the brink of passing out. Fingertips teased that sweet spot inside until at last he spurted onto his own stomach.

Garrett kissed his way up Aidan's body, lapping up the mess as he went. When he finally reached his lips, they shared a long, sloppy kiss with the taste of both their spend on their tongues.

Too warm to cuddle just yet, they lay side by side, hand in hand, catching their breaths.

"The thread count is a little lacking, now that I can think straight," Aidan said. "Also, what the hell was that about?"

"Oh, you're wondering why I brought it up in the first place? Was that not fun for you? Did the thread count not interest you in the slightest? Well, now you know how it feels."

"I try to involve you in making our home a nice place to live and this is the thanks I get."

"You brought up champagne and bisque when you did not, in fact, have any champagne or delicious bisque."

"Colours have names — official names — it's not just me."

"I've never felt so betrayed."

"That reminds me, I think we should move away from neutral tones this year."

"I think you should move out."

Aidan chuckled and rolled closer to him. He planted light little kisses on his forehead while running his fingers through his hair. It smelled faintly of coconut and more strongly of sex but underneath all that, it smelled like Garrett, and Aidan savoured every breath of it.

This part was easy. Aidan could never get enough of this part. These long, lazy moments in the afterglow. Being naked without being shy and touching without lust. No pressure or cheap thrills. Just peace. This perfect stillness he found here, at home in Garrett's arms. In these moments, it truly felt as though they'd been built as a pair; being together came more naturally than being anything else at all.

It hadn't always been like this for them.

Aidan didn't mind playing the dominant role. He prided himself on being a generous lover. More than anything, he got off on watching the other person unravel. He didn't much mind what it took to make that happen, but he did have limits.

Rape-play pushed his limits. Aidan never truly enjoyed it and would never have indulged anyone but Garrett. Memories of their earliest encounters still dropped like a stone in his stomach. He sometimes wondered how they ever survived.

Garrett had depended so much on it in the beginning. It was the only way to have what he wanted. If he was forced into it, he didn't have to feel guilty and it didn't matter that he liked it.

Shame, though, was different than guilt. The instant Garrett finished, Aidan could practically see that heavy, gut-churning shame wash over him and was helpless watching him sink.

Then he'd resort to anger. He'd lash out, insisting he wasn't truly attracted to men, he wasn't sick. He was just using Aidan to get it out of his system before settling down with a respectable pure-blood wife.

Days, often weeks, would pass before they talked again. Each time was meant to be the last time. Until one or both of them caved, unable to stay away. Then the whole routine started over.

That part of their lives was behind them, thankfully, but Garrett still had his moments.

"What is it?" Garrett traced the frown line between Aidan's eyebrows. The one that wasn't usually there. "You're thinking about something you don't like."

"The past." Aidan shook his head to clear it. He didn't want to dwell on such unhappy thoughts today. "I like it much better here."

"So do I."

They kissed in a way they never did back then. All those kisses were stolen in the heat of the moment. This was gentle and deliberate. They took their time because neither of them was going anywhere. Not anymore.

"Happy anniversary," Aidan said with a smile when he finally pulled away.

Garrett wouldn't say it back. He never did. He had his own response.

"Thank you for marrying me."

It still bothered him that Garrett didn't think enough of himself to congratulate Aidan on being married to him. Every year, he thanked him as if he'd done him a favour. They used to argue over it but that never got them anywhere.

Aidan dived into marriage thinking he'd be a natural at it. It took a few years for him to learn how to pick his battles and how to fight them, and when to yield. He couldn't force Garrett to see himself the way he did. He could only act on what he saw and lead by example.

"Sometimes loving someone means forgiving them for who they are," his father once told him after a particularly bitter fight. "You can't make them change."

Aidan wasn't about to answer Garrett with you're welcome so he simply said, "Of course."

Then he leaned in for another long kiss.

And then the moment was ruined by a stomach growling. They laughed, never minding which one of them broke the mood. They'd both worked up an appetite, after all.

Aidan laced their fingers together as he checked Garrett's watch. The expertly crafted timepiece had been his gift to him on their first anniversary and he loved the way Garrett almost never took it off.

"I think we've missed our dinner reservation."

It wasn't yet seven but there was no hope they'd make it in time. Not with London traffic.

"There's a restaurant downstairs, you goon."

"You do understand that will require putting on clothes?"

Garrett pulled a face as he mulled it over before running his hands down Aidan's body pulling him in tight. He declared room service to be the best option and captured Aidan's lips once more.

This kiss quickly grew heated. After a few minutes of grinding and heavy petting, they had to decide whether sex or food was the more immediate need. They chose sex.

When Aidan emptied himself inside his husband, Garrett begged for every drop without shame.

Finally untangling themselves, they used magic to freshen up a bit. Aidan, being a tad melodramatic, claimed death was fast approaching he was so hungry. Food was definitely the next item on the agenda. Besides, why waste themselves on quick showers when they had a very long bath to look forward to?

The bath wasn't big enough for two people — yet. And that wasn't the only magical improvement being made around here.

"Oh, wow." Aidan melted as he slipped into the dressing gown Garrett handed him. It was impossibly thick and warm and oh so soft. "I feel like a baby seal. What did you do to these?"

"Why do you always assume I've done something?"

All that remained of Garrett was a frowny face nestled in a cloud and his slippered feet sticking out the bottom.

Aidan fixed with a deadpan stare.

"OK, I made them extra fluffy. What's your problem?" From the depths of his pocket, he produced a second pair of slippers. "Here, I saved the women's size for you."

Aidan snatched them from him. "I have perfectly proportioned feet!"

Garrett looked down. "Where?"

Aidan used the slippers to swat him then made his way over to the phone.

"Right on the nose. Did Tup teach you that?"

Aidan ordered room service while Garrett rummaged for something in their bags. Moments later, he placed a wine bottle on the table. It was the vintage Aidan tracked down for him that Christmas. He found a different one each year. Though, they all tasted the same to him.

Half of it was gone already, having been opened on the day. The rest, they would enjoy tonight. Such was their tradition. Uncorked, wine didn't keep this long on its own but the solution to that problem, as with most minor problems, was magic.

If only the real problems in life could be solved so easily… Aidan brushed those concerns aside for later. He'd promised himself and his husband one day where he didn't worry about Gwen.

Garrett hadn't accepted that promise, telling him he'd never last the whole day.

While they waited for their food to arrive, Garrett revealed he booked them in for full body massages which was curious to say the least.

"You can't stand being touched by people you don't know."

"Yes, but you won't go if I'm being 'left out,' which is why I'm going to wait till you fall asleep then leave early."

"Sweetheart, we're not that co-dependent. I'd choose a massage over you any day."

"Thanks," Garrett said flatly. "Anyway, once you're done being groped, they have something we'll both enjoy."

"Is there a jacuzzi?" Aidan felt himself smiling like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Oh, fine. Spoil all the surprises." Garrett pouted. "Did she tell you?"

"Yes, right around the time she volunteered to speak more than two words to me."

"Point taken."

They deliberately moved the conversation onto happier, meaningless topics until a knock at the door signalled dinner was served.

"The bed," Aidan whispered in a sudden panic before Garrett opened the door.

With the flick of a wand, there were separate beds once again. It felt more like they were hiding their love than their magic.

The waiter's smile faltered for a second when he took in the sight of them, and then he refused to make eye contact. Despite knowing better, Aidan hoped Garrett didn't notice. He always clocked these things even when Aidan missed them. Although, on those occasions, he might have just been reading too much into it.

On this occasion, thankfully, he let it slide. He'd gotten so much better at being genuinely unaffected as opposed to shoving it down and pretending he didn't care. Aidan felt a swell of pride as they sat down to eat.

"You got the garlic mushrooms?" Garrett sounded touched.

"Of course."

"But you hate them," he pointed out as he popped one in his mouth.

"I don't care." Aidan leaned in for a quick kiss. Then grimaced. "I care a little. Brush your teeth before you come near me again."

In an uncharacteristically playful and immature move, Garrett grabbed his face in both hands and planted a kiss right on his mouth. He only ever got this way when he was truly relaxed so Aidan didn't mind so much.

"I will admit, it's nice having some time to ourselves again." Saying it loud, he felt a pang of guilt. "But we should do something with all three of us together. It might help us bond."

Garrett nodded but didn't look at all enthusiastic. He sipped his wine instead of saying anything.

"What do you think about Molly's offer to visit the Burrow this summer?"

"I think it'll be cramped but I'm happy to go if you want to."

They couldn't finalise any dates here and now, of course, but the plan was accepted in principle. Garrett also agreed it was a good idea introducing Gwen to 'Roland' before they started school.

"Roland?"

"Their youngest boy. The twins have already started Hogwarts, haven't they?"

"That's not his name."

Garrett frowned. "Since when?"

"Birth, presumably." Aidan shook his head in disbelief. "Have you been calling him Roland this whole time?"

"I'd say that's a strong possibility, yes. But they still invited us over so the important thing is, I got away with it."

Cheers to that, they raised their glasses.

"Imagine if she ends up being friends with Harry Potter," Aidan said after taking a sip. "Having the Boy Who Lived over for dinner, that'd be something."

For some reason, this comment made Garrett study him with a careful look.

"You never used to talk about him this much."

"Have I been talking about him a lot?" Aidan frowned. He hadn't noticed.

Garrett wrestled with himself. It was something Aidan had seen enough times to recognise. Whatever it was he wanted to confront, he was hesitant to do it now and risk spoiling the occasion. But if not now, when? They'd found shockingly little time lately to be alone and talk.

"Say it," Garrett finally spoke.

"Say what?"

"You went to school with his parents and now he's starting school."

"So?" Aidan tried to sound nonchalant and didn't quite manage it. He grabbed his fork but could only play with his shrimp salad due to the knot forming in his stomach.

"We don't even have a baby yet," Garrett's tone was gentle but the knife he sank into Aidan with those words was no less sharp.

His chest tightened. The backs of his eyes started prickling. He took a ragged breath and looked away and tried to blink back the tears because he didn't want make Garrett see him cry, not today of all days. He could keep it together, he always did. He always—wanted a baby.

A choked sob burst out of him. It was the sound of the floodgates opening.

He broke down.

His heart seized up. Some hollow, aching thing inside was eating it, eating him. He couldn't breathe or cry. He could only choke on this desperate longing for someone who didn't exist and might never be real. It had him doubled over in his chair, trying to scream, while it just kept chewing on all his pointless, unspent love.

Garrett pulled him into his arms as he shook violently. Aidan clung to him and finally got enough air into his lungs to cry out. He buried his face in his husband's neck and wept into his skin.

Now that he'd started, there was no holding it back. No more locking it behind a door in his mind. He pictured a baby of his own and just wanted to hold them so badly. His arms felt emptier every passing year without that weight.

He cried harder. Garrett held him. And when his racking sobs gradually subsided, he still held him. Aidan had no clue how much time had passed. It felt like hours before Garrett spoke.

"You can't expect all these feelings to just go away."

"I know that," Aidan's voice was small and unconvincing even to his own ears.

"Gwen isn't going to fill the void."

"I know that." This time, Aidan sounded a little more determined because he really did know it was true. He only wished it were otherwise.

With all his heart, he still believed it was the right thing to do, taking in a child in Gwen's position. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself if they'd refused Dumbledore's request. Even so, if he was being brutally honest with himself, he couldn't shake the twinge of disappointment.

It wasn't going as well as he hoped.

She didn't fit into their family as well as he hoped.

He didn't even like her very much.

And every time he came close to admitting it, he remembered how selfish it was to expect a little girl who'd lost everything to make his life feel complete. It left him nauseous with guilt and then, overcompensating, he tried that much harder to connect. And he wasn't stupid; he saw how his efforts only made her shut him out all the more. She'd get abrasive. He'd be disappointed. And so the cycle continued.

Empty minutes passed in silence as Aidan recovered. He took pensive, steadying sips of wine while Garrett rubbed comforting circles into his back.

"Maybe it's best if we give up on that dream," Garrett's words were small, crushed things beneath the pain in his voice.

It hurt Aidan just to hear it. His heart seized up with every type of pain — betrayal, grief, despair — and no particular pain all at once. It just hurt. It was unbearable.

"Please don't ask me to do that."

"I don't want to, I just…" Garrett sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if the answers might be written on it. Maybe he just couldn't look at Aidan. "Do you really think we can do this?"

"Yes," was his knee-jerk answer. Then he tried to meet him halfway. "I mean, sure, it's a challenge and there's a lot of learning on the job but it's like that for everyone. Maybe we're making mistakes — probably a lot of mistakes — but I honestly believe we're meant to be parents."

"Not everyone agrees."

Aidan flinched.

"Please don't do that. Don't let people like that decide. It's none of their business." This had come up so many times before and Aidan still hadn't found the right words to convince him. "And even if they're right, does it really matter? It's got to be better to have two dads than no parents at all."

If they were talking specifically about Gwen, Aidan would point out she had both a mother and a father, and a bruise on her face when they met her. They only knew her because her 'normal' parents were scum. Like so many others. But they weren't talking specifically about her.

"The main thing kids notice is who shows up for them. That's who they need. There's no reason we can't do that just as well as anyone else."

Garrett nodded but didn't say anything. He stared into the depths of his wine glass, eyes darkening with unhappy thoughts. Aidan knew to give him time. But when Garrett finally opened his mouth to speak, he shut it again.

"What?"

"No, it's stupid."

"Nothing you feel is stupid."

"Irrational, then." Garrett took a breath and met his gaze. "I'm sorry I can't give you what you want."

Words failed Aidan and he only managed to shake his head. For all his yearning, it never crossed his mind to wish they were different. He wouldn't make his husband straight and himself a woman, or vice versa, not for all the happy accidents in the world.

"Like I said, irrational." Garrett gave a defeated shrug. "I'm not apologising for biology, I only wish… I just want you to be happy."

"I am." Aidan took both his husband's hands in his own and squeezed gently before reaching up to cup his cheek. "I am happy. With you."

By the following evening, they returned to the Thicket — most of which was still there — to find a manic house-elf rounding up live geese and a human child bound and gagged in the Naughty Bin, formerly known as the shed.