Nine days before Frank is born. Twelve days after the Battle of Hogwarts

Sellaphix Apothecary, Knockturn Alley

10am

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“Zee, I said just go home. I can handle it here.” Rafe Sellaphix insisted to his wife for the fifteenth time that morning. “Really.”

But the calm expression on Rafe’s face immediately vanished and he positively blanched when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement.

“No Fig!” The yell was instantaneous as he watched the five year old pull a leaf from a jar on a shelf that had been out of his reach. “Oh $%^#, don’t eat that!” But it was too late, Fig was nibbling on the end of an Alihotsy leaf[1]. “%^$#! Zelda, he %^&ing ate it!”

“Then put a bloody bezoar in him! Peanut butter is under the counter,” Zelda cried wearily from upstairs as she hobbled out of the office, heavily pregnant.

Figaro was very effectively evading his father, ducking in the tight space between beetle-eye barrels, and slipping under work tables. It might actually be difficult to know, with the eldest Sellaphix child, if he was under the effects of alihotsy so rambunctious was he.

“Merlin’s sake, Rafe, can you please...” She was putting in as many hours as she could to get the books in order. It was an incredibly inconvenient time to have a baby.

“Oh sure! I’ll just string him up! No bloody problem at all!” Rafe breathed heavily, making a reach for the boy but instead, ending up stepping in the mop bucket and trapping his foot. Water spurted out to make puddles on the stone floor and it was a mere miracle that Rafe didn’t also land on the floor. “FIGARO!”

From the balcony, Zelda found her wand in her robes, took aim and sent off a little spell at her son. “Locomotor Wibbly [nb]Jelly Legs Jinx”

THUNK

The little boy collapsed onto a rug in a fit of giggles, his jinxed legs wiggling in the air. Zelda smiled. Even when he wasn’t being a terror, he liked that one. Always made him laugh. She held up her wand to her mouth and blew across the tip like a cowboy.

Even with his foot currently jammed in a metal mop bucket, Rafe allowed himself a fond smile as he glanced up in time to see his wife’s little cowboy move. Prioritising the present giggling fit of his son’s over freeing his foot, Rafe clink clink clinked to the rug and, in moments, was kneeling and pinning the boy still. The bucket only proved to make balancing harder.

“Accio bezoar.” Fortunately, the couple kept them handy for occasions such as this. One got used to preparing for any eventuality with such a spirited young son. Next the peanut butter came flying, and Rafe juggled keeping his son in one place on the rug with opening the jar and dipping the bezoar in. Too much to do, too few hands.

“Open wide, Giggles!”

Figaro clammed up, his tightly closed mouth in a boyish smile. Anything for a little more attention from his dad.

“Figaro Flamel Sellaphix, you do as your dad said or you’ll probably die.” Zelda with the sing-song assist from the balcony. “Ooh!” She suddenly put a hand to her belly. The baby was vigorously elbowing her spleen.

1.	Ailhosty induces uncontrollable hysteria and laughter

At about the same moment as Figaro was practicing passive resistance, and the baby was doing gymnastics, the door opened. All three looked up. There had been almost no business for months, so a customer would have been welcome. But it was a pair of Aurors.

Accepting a momentary failure and fully aware that his son was not in fact about to die from laughing too hard, Rafe stood, grabbed the boy, and flung him over his shoulder. Now, with Figaro’s bottom and merrily kicking legs facing the aurors, Rafe scowled at them with none of his usual warm welcoming demeanour. It was quite the amusing sight; the scowling apothecary and his giggling excited son tossed over his shoulder.

“Really, fellas? Business isn’t bad enough without red robes coming through the door? You’re supposed be after Dark Wizards, not searching our dark cellar.”

“Routine, Mr Sellaphix.”

“Like it was routine two days ago? My wife’s about to burst and the stress of seeing that shade of red’s gonna make her. Sod off.”

As soon as she saw the Aurors, Zelda made her way down the staircase to come up behind Rafe and gently wrangle the kid, dispelling her A+ Parenting Jinx and setting him on the floor. For all his energy, he could read the room and was as subdued as he could be with the Alihotsy working its magic.

Rafe handed her the peanut-buttery stone and Zelda deftly slipped it in the kid’s mouth. Then she patted his back to send him around the back of the counter to his spot. During the whole routine, she kept one steady eye on the Aurors.
“I doubt they’re here for another search, Mr. Sellaphix. They’re probably concerned for our welfare. All those Death Eaters on the run, what better place to hole up than Knockturn Alley/ Have you caught Rosier yet? He torched the shop across the street last week.”

Rafe was bad cop. She was good cop.

“We’re working on it, Mrs Sellaphix.” The younger of the two aurors focused his attention on the kinder witch, visibly calming when she spoke. “We just need to make sure everyone in Knockturn Alley is -”

“Behaving themselves.” Rafe interrupted, crossing his arms over his stomach. “Or destitute. Do you have any idea how...hey! What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?” The second, older auror was making their way further into the shop and going behind the desk where Zelda had just sent Figaro. A few red sparks shot involuntarily from Rafe’s wand.

Zelda wasn’t able to move as fast as she normally could, and her set jaw showed her frustration.

“Is there something I can help you find!” she said sharply.

“PEW PEW!” Figaro pointed his index finger out like a wand, squinted one eye and fired off a few ‘spells’. The older Auror, raised his hands in mock surrender, clearly unintimidated by the shopkeepers and unaffected by the tension.

”Oh ho! Future Auror right here! Hey, little fella, you seen any bad guys around? Any bogeymen under your bed?”

The look on Zelda’s face, oh it could have peeled paint. Figaro was equally unimpressed.

“I’m going to be a bin man.” His dad had taught him that one.

Despite himself and the tension in the room, Rafe let out a bellow of a laugh.

“And there you have it! The terrifying future rubbish collector and his terrifying potion brewing parents!” Rafe made his way over to the door and opened it. “If I see a bad guy, I personally promise you that I’ll be the first to throw a cauldron at their head and string them up by their toes with my apron. Now get the hell out of my shop until you have a merlin forsaken warrant or you want to buy some dysentery eliminator ointment!”

Zelda couldn’t help but smile; it took a lot (or just a red robe) to get her husband going. It was a good look. She looked between the Aurors and shrugged as if to say, what can you do?

“Better be off. Maybe another time.”

It took a moment and another haughty lap around the shop, but the older Auror eventually led the younger out, but not without a parting platitude.

”We’re all on the same side. Good day.”

As soon as the door shut, Zelda made a face and leaned on a table. Figaro wandered out and clamped himself onto his father’s leg.

“Thought you were going to get hexed. What happened to service with a smile,” she said, wiping her face of the discomfort.

“I have a gross aversion to the colour red.” Rafe grumbled, hand landing softly on Figaro’s head and messing up his hair. “Gotta protect Mommy, haven’t I?” Rafe bent down, taking Fig’s hand to press it to Zelda’s belly. “She’s got the next Albus Dumbledore in there.” With a smirk, his gaze snapped to Figaro who he pulled closer into a tight hug. “Merlin knows we’ve one of the Weasley twins already.”

Zelda rolled her eyes.

“Don’t even...”

That joke shop in Diagon Alley was obnoxious, but Rafe was being sweet again and that was something. The visit by the Aurors had been more vexing than she’d thought.

“I’ve got to get back to it. Where are you at?” Zelda had been up with the accounting all morning (and all last night). Rafe was handling inventory. Stock was going to go bad if they weren’t careful.

“I was supposed to be working?” Rafe feigned shock, eyes wide. “Bother, Fig! You didn’t tell me we were supposed to be actually doing something!”

“Oh please, Dad, we are helping. I’m sniffing all the leaves and tasting all the bugs to make sure nothing is off. And Dad is … scratching his bum! And sniffing it!” Figaro had clearly been coached but went off script in another fit of giggles.

“Scratching his bum, is he?” Zelda said with a face stern face. “Well, you tell him to get back to work before his wife pops and there’s a new baby to take care of.”

“Right!” Rafe replied quickly, contrasting his wife’s stern expression with a grin. “No more bum scratching. Yes, boss.” He placed a hand on Fig’s shoulder, “Come on, lad. I’ll teach you how to lick the cackling cacti properly next. Trick is to have a really good collection of saliva ready...”

That was a plan Figaro could get on board with and happily followed his dad up the stairs where the cacti soaked up the sun from the high front windows. Zelda gave Rafe a wink before heading back into the office. But it wasn’t long before the voice of her husband rose again.

“Fig! No! Don’t eat - okay, he ate it.”