Gwenog was glad to be out of the Daily Prophet offices. The worst part of her day job, which was on the whole pretty spectacular, was doing press. The idea of inviting people into her life still a little uncomfortable. She liked to think she was a genuine person, but there was something about interviews that always made her feel more like an actress, out of those muggle movies her dad still liked to watch.

She’d taken herself straight to Fortescue’s ice cream parlour, rewarded herself with an obnoxiously large mango and chocolate concoction and settled down in the sun to relax and reset her mind. There were no shortage of friendly faces of course, and from behind her sunglasses she smiled at almost everyone passing by until she saw a more familiar face. “Oh it’s you!” she greeted, “Long time, no see.”

The girl he loved -- the muggle girl he loved -- had held his baby son in his arms and demanded answers and Jacob had been unable to give any. After one last desperate plea that they move abroad with him, met with rejection and hurt and the assertion that London was their home, Jacob had gone. So fast she would never be able to trace him. Hopefully neither would the Death Eaters who had threatened him with join them or die. None of the Death Eaters wanted to see another Mimi Thomas, a fierce blaze of hatred against them, so furious she had struck down her own older sister and left a place in the ranks for the next in line. No, they wanted another Leah. Someone who would speak for their cause from within the walls of the law and help them avoid persecution. In all those years, Jacob had never made the decision. Which of his sisters, or his parents, should he side with? Which side of the war was he on? In the end, there was only one decision he could see which might let Dean grow up away from war.

That had been a year ago and a few months later the news had trickled back from Britain that the war was over but it had still taken him some time to truly believe it, enough to feel it was time to do what he never expected to do once he finally escaped his homeland: to return.

Diagon Alley in peacetime was very different to how it had been in war and Jake felt he could breathe in a way he had not been able to before he had moved away. It actually brought a smile to his face as he commented, “What a difference a year makes.”

“Coming!” Poppy chimed as she’d covered the exposed dough with a damp cheesecloth. Her apron was covered in flour and blackberry preserve, which was a regular trend in her appearance. She’d danced her way as quickly as possible, unlocking the door with her elbow as to not get everything covered in dough. “Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t expect anyone this early.”