Upon marrying Malin and moving into their cabin in the mountains, Alexander had thought he’d hit the jackpot as far as living conditions went. It had been surprising how easy it was to lose everything he’d spent more than 30 years working towards to end up back in his bedroom it his childhood home with elderly parents for company.

Dealing with the breakdown of a marriage and loss of such a lovely house seemed to pale in comparison to living with the judgements of an intimidating father who didn’t cease to share his disappointment in his youngest son. It was fortunate that Alec had managed to get a job at the British ministry to start in a few days. It would get him out of the house and, as he’d pointed out to said intimidating father, this was a promotion.

It was the afternoon by the time that Alec surfaced from his dreams, a banging headache with the alcohol from the night before to thank. And old school friend had decided the former dragon tamer needed a decent welcome home. It had been more than decent, Alec had decided as he ushered the rather attractive witch from the house once certain his parents had left for the afternoon.

Sat in the kitchen in a pair of baggy pyjama trousers, nursing a strong coffee and a headache potion, Alec frowned when he heard the front door open. The footsteps definitely didn’t belong to either parent and he rolled his eyes, irritated.
“I didn’t offer you breakfast for a reason!” He called out, immediately regretting it as his head protested the noise by throbbing harder.

Waltzing through the door like she owned the place, mostly because her grandparents did, Lou called out a sweet hello! and slammed it heartily behind her. She palmed at a familiar green coat as she traipsed past it on its peg. If she fully expected to find its owner, her grandfather, on the other side of the wall, or any one of the generations of grinning Carters heralding her presence from their frames, the owner of the grouchy voice echoing from the kitchen was not who she would have picked.

And Lou was a pretty good guesser.

She stopped abruptly in the doorway of the kitchen, hands hanging to the frame as she took in the scene. Even the newest additions to the portraits in the hall, Amelia and Katrine— in matching bonnets their great grandmother had thrust upon them— would have been more likely culprits. Bitching about breakfast and all.

Alexander Carter, in his pyjamas and sullen hangover face, was as foreign a presence in her life as World Cup attendees. She’d last seen him at her father’s funeral a few years ago, where he hadn’t spoken a word to her. And if she’d met him a handful of times before that, she’d been so young that she could hardly remember.

She dropped her arms, raised her brows. “Cool, I actually already had some bacon with my boyfriend, so…” She continued to stare at him, still thinking of the portraits on the wall, and how his was the reason she hadn’t drawn her wand to combat the stranger danger.

“But I don’t think I was who you were expecting,” she picked up, a little more cheerful, her eyes softening a bit as she took a few steps into the kitchen. "Not really your type.” She hoped not. She wasn’t into the incest thing, but the man had been in woods of Norway a long, long time.

Emmylou picked up an apple from a bowl. Her eyes moved to another doorway and back again to her uncle.

She could understand a hangover, sleeping in… being annoyed by someone waking her up. She was barely out of Hogwarts, that was her life.

Or it had been, before rent reared its head. Now there was something of a balance, even if it still tilted more toward magical mechanical bulls and long nights at Death & Co.

But... the man was in his 50’s, for Merlin’s sake.

Emmylou felt old, suddenly. And wondered how on earth this was her father’s brother. How had her mother, homemaker and curfew-enforcer extraordinaire, managed to say lovely things about him? She would have skinned Emmylou for sleeping past noon— at her house— after five decades on earth and one long night out (or in). She knew immediately that her grandparents weren’t home.

“I did hear you'd split from your wife. It was that bad, then?” She took a bite of the apple, waiting for his response. Swallowed. Pointed the fruit at herself. “I’m your niece by the way.”

Since when was splitting up with your wife something you would want to discuss with the niece you barely knew? Alec stared at the young witch in the doorway, the coffee nursed between his hands. Each year that passed, his hangovers presented themselves worse with less alcohol. It wasn’t fair. As he got older, he needed more alcohol to deal with the shit life tended to throw at him. This morning he felt like a troll had been dancing on his head the previous night.

Not drinking again.

The thought popped into his head, every hungover person’s head until the next time they fancied a drink. Alec didn’t even entertain the prospect of not drinking again. All he now had was a new job. No family to worry about. Malin had seen to that. He was now a 50 year old bachelor living in his parent’s house with random relatives wondering in willy nilly.

“I know who you are.” Alec grumbled, leaning forward on the stool against the work counter. “Emily Louise. Prefers Emmylou but the whole family still call you Emily.” Despite himself, Alec allowed a small smile to twist his lips. “You were a cute kid. Even if you had Leon as a dad.”

Upon realising that that could possibly hurt, what with Leon’s death, Alec explained. “He was a bloody ugly teenager. He had this great bulbous nose and a scowl that could terrify a goblin.”

“I know who you are.”

Relief. A lopsided grin appeared, despite Lou’s hesitance to consider the man family. She didn’t need her uncle-who-was-clearly-going-through-a-midlife-crisis to mistake her for an intruder. But if his reflexes were anything like his hangover, Emmylou had faith in herself. She’d once upon a time thought her father’s career as an auror was the coolest— she could target a wizard or two. Dating a bull-rider also helped.

“Not the whole family,” she challenged, again pointing the apple at him in lieu of her wand. “George still calls me that. So does my mum when I’m mad at her.” That sounded a bit more childish than intended. She’d always feared the sweet name would peg her as just that. The hand with the apple dropped a bit. The real reason, for a while, had been that it reminded her too much of her father.

Her uncle seemed to anticipate her potential retort at his next comment, and swiftly corrected himself. Lou’s eyebrows jumped again. “People tell me all the time I look like him.”  Let him talk his way out of that. She took a few steps into the kitchen, glanced around for the telltale signs of other family members, and then closed the gap between herself and the chair farthest from her uncle. “I’ve my mum’s nose, though,” she admitted, reaching for the carafe of coffee with the same hand that now juggled the apple, too. She pulled out her wand with the other, pointed at the dregs. “Also, I actually prefer Lou.” Her eyes flew back to her uncle.

The carafe began to fill and fog again, a properly dark roast. When Lou was satisfied with its progress, she set it atop the table and turned away from Alex. “So what did he actually do to you?” She asked, her back to him, and began to hunt through cupboards for her favorite mug. On her tippy toes, she pushed away a tartan-patterened one. “Steal your girlfriend?” Hardly, unless they’d been in school. Her parents had been soulmates, together for ages. The sort of in love that made five-year-old Lou squeal about cooties. Fingers latched around a familiar handle. She turned back around, leaned into the counter, waited for him to elaborate.

Fishing up the cream and a few other choice ingredients, she returned to the table. “I work in a tea shop,” she explained, taking a moment to wiggle a small plate beneath the apple she’d bit into. Her grandmother had put true fear in her heart in this kitchen one too many times. Then she reached for the cinnamon. “I’ll make the best hangover cure you’ve ever had. You only had to wait half a century.” She didn’t try especially hard to suppress her smirk. “So who was she? A rebound? You definitely didn't leave my aunt for her.” Somehow, she doubted it. She knew how the one-night-stand routine worked. Alec looked rather like Emmylou after she'd kicked a young man half his age out of her bed. The choices they made when they were smashed often lead to this sort of breakfast.

Merlin this niece liked to talk. She certainly wasn’t considering her volume either. Alec stared into his depleting coffee cup as she banged around the kitchen, questioned his relationship with her late father and informed him of her very special job in a tea shop. It appeared that none of the youngest generation of Carter’s had made much use of themselves as of yet. From what he knew, Maya was working as a secretary in the ministry after having ha a baby and been dumped and George was also a young parents with a better job. Did Emily have any children as well? It all made Alec feel very old.

“So who was she? A rebound? You definitely didn't leave my aunt for her.” Emily had Leon’s blunt demeanour and a lack of censoring apparently. Alec’s brow rose as he sat up straighter and watched her carefully through dark eyes.

“Why so interested, Emily?” The wizard drained his coffee with a large gulp. “Not everyone is created to be monogamous and only innocent love birds think so. In fact,” he spoke slowly, considering his words and English, “human nature is to find multiple partners to reproduce and evolve.” He didn’t care if she started to feel uncomfortable, she’d asked too many questions. “You’d not like me asking you about your private life would you?”