#protegostarter

He’d been part of the wizarding world for a few years now, but kept his presence to a minimum. It had been a whirlwind, he’d never considered himself possible to be magical, but when the letter from the Ministry had turned up, saying he’d been flagged in their records as a new addition and the fact his wizarding blood was so diluted he’d gone off the radar for most of his formative years it was a mess trying to find his way in a world his cousin was so accustomed too. 

But assimilate he had done, alongside his daughter Stella who was turning five next year and already showing a lot more power than he inhibited. It was strange, how genetics worked and how everything magical worked and he was doing it alone. His connections were few and his relationship with his mum and dad was fraught with tension and fear from their end. So, he’d done what he could only do and set up shop in the wizard central. Combing the best of both worlds, he was entering into his eighth month of business and it wasn’t seeming to stop. Enervate had a steady stream of customers and he loved waking up and experiencing all things new. 

And Christmas was a good time for him to open himself up more into the community. He was offering a free massage with each Christmas hamper brought- a wicker basket full of spa treats and local apothecary lotions and he stood behind the counter proudly, muggle christmas decorations mixed with magical made the wellness center magical in it’s own way and he couldn’t stop with the smile as the bell announced a customer. 

“Welcome to Enervate, a place for pure body and mind indulgence, how can I help you?”

Whiskey hangovers were never good, running on less than two hours sleep was never good, overall, Dean Thomas was not being good. The fundraiser was over, the Prophet covering pages of photos and quotes and interviews and he felt some satisfaction of one picture in particular of him glaring before covering his face. At least it showed his feelings for the entire thing. But now it was two days until Christmas and his shopping was not done. 

Quad espresso in one hand and his other handling a mixture of bags he kept his head down against the winter breeze, west ham scarf flailing in the gusts billowing down the cobbled stones of Diagon. The air though was crisp and the sky a clear white- he could almost smell the snow threatening to arrive and he would have to probably put off his plans to drive to his mum’s, instead relying on floo powder- at least that would make the kids happy if he actually appeared from the chimney Christmas day. 

He chuckled at the thought and wondered if it would be crass to dress like santa when his foot ended up kicking something forwards and he stopped in surprise, seeing a red and gold packaged box a few feet ahead of him. Clearly it had dropped and there was someone up ahead- juggling his own bags, he managed to scoop it up and picked up his pace towards the figure.

“Hey, excuse me- hey-!” 

George detested Ministry functions. ( detested them so much that he’d rather go visit the monument to people who were lost during the battle of hogwarts than be here ) He’d happily give to charity or donate the shirt off his back to someone in need, but these social events were not for him. ( besides, who did the ministry think they were? capitalizing off the loss of the battle like vultures. ) This whole event was about rubbing elbows with the right people. George wanted to puke. 

Finishing off the last of his drink, George slammed the glass down onto the table where he was seated. A few concerned stares landed on him, but no one would dare say a word to a war hero. ( despite the fact that this hero spent most of his nights running from hooded men in his nightmares. ) He needed more alcohol if he was going to survive a night like this. Quickly, he stood up and made his way through the crowded room over to the bar. Once he flagged the bartender down, he ordered a whiskey on the rocks. It was the only thing that would do right now. He didn’t even glance over when someone took the spot next to him.

“What brings you here? Pleasure or business?”

Another day done,  only god knows how many thousands left until he could leave the cursed earth. Every day was the same, wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, try to ignore all the stares and comments, go home, eat, sleep- he lived on autopilot, alone in Goyle Manor with only a housekeeper who quietly crept around him and her child, who seemed to be happy simply sitting in his library reading the numerous books unaware of the man who dwelled in the home and what he had done in his life. 

He was making his way through the Atrium, towards one of the floo channels when a briefcase was dropped ahead of him, papers and files slipping out of it whilst it dropped and sliding across the marbled floor. He was going to walk straight on by, leave the poor soul to deal with it themselves but he found himself stopping and silently bending down to begin picking up papers which had flown a bit further out of their reach. Wide, gaunt eyes clocked the person as he wordlessly held out some of his gathered pages and continued to grab more. 

Christmas was always a busy state of affairs in the Weasley household- it held its fair share of arguments, and fights, yet also was filled with love. Their childhood home, as always decked out with numerous handmade ornaments and streamers, the fire roaring away, and the smells of his mother cooking filling the house with warmth and nostalgia all craved at this time in the year. 

Bill had mostly sat with his father, with the exception of sharing kisses and brief cuddles with his wife and child- presents strewn all over the place, and Victoire, ever so precocious and a true believer in Christmas made his heart twinge. They all were lucky, to still have each other. And it seemed the family was growing more and more every year. George was there, attended by Angelina- but he wouldn’t comment on it, he liked that his younger brother had someone looking out for him. Even if both of them seemed to be more tense than others. Harry of course, who he looked upon as another younger brother and Hermione, he wondered if the youngest brother would ever so something about it, who knows, hell even Percy was there with someone new. All he wanted was his siblings happy, he hoped after these trials they finally would find peace. 

Bill had excused himself mid-way the family gathering, the overall chaos of the house meaning he could slip out undetected and he stood in the garden, overlooking the snow-covered greenery and fields surrounding them. 

Sometimes quiet moments of reflection where needed meant sneaking out to light one of the black and gold-tipped cigarettes he carried. A plume of colored smoke mixed with the cold mist as he thought about the years past. And what was yet to come. Unaware of the presence which had also sneaked out behind him. 

flora was always incredibly put together. it didn’t matter if she was just grocery shopping or doing flips on her broom, she always looked elegant. it was one of the wizarding world’s mysteries. even now after her early morning run not a single drop of sweat could be seen from her brow, nor a single strand of hair out of place. nearly every head in the quaint coffee shop turned to greet her as she floated towards the counter. the barista rushed to give her her usual only for another person to wrap their fingers around the cup she believed was meant for her. 

“sorry beautiful, but i think that’s actually meant for me,” she smiles, pointing at the cup.

Looking to her left, she saw a solitary figure and she pursed her lips. No, that wouldn’t do and she waltzed over, leaning beside them with a coy smile. “I’m almost obligated to ask if you’re enjoying yourself and if not, what can I do to turn that pretty frown upside down?” she asked, clicking her fingers, another flute of sparkling wine appearing in her hand from a passing waiter as she passed it across to them. “Compliments of the house.”