Figaro Sellaphix was nervous as hell. 

Weds

Dear Figaro,

Frank and I are making the trip up on Saturday to see you.  I've spoken with your Head of House and he's agreed to give you a pass for the day to come to Hogsmeade.  Don't panic and we'll see you soon.

Love,
Mum

It wasn't often Figaro got mail and lately he'd been dreading it.  All semester it was either letters from his folks about nearly flunking out of Ancient Runes, or worse yet, updates on his dad's Wizengamot case.  In October, Rafe Sellaphix had been arrested by Aurors for allegedly being involved with the Runespoor black market.  Figaro didn't believe it when his mom told him.  He had no idea his mom and dad's business dealt with illegal stuff.  But the trial wasn't going well.  Mr Briggs from the shop had apparently gotten arrested to and told the Aurors all the illegal stuff his dad had going on.  His mother wouldn't tell him, or anyone probably, if she knew what he was doing or not, so the Aurors hadn't bothered her much.

But since October, his dad had been held at the Ministry. Figaro had endured quite a bit of hassle about it at first, but Xavier Tawse stepped up for him and in very clear terms promised unpleasantness should anyone give Figaro any shit anymore.  It worked mostly and Figaro was thankful for that.

As he waited at the Owl Post Office where his mum said she'd meet him, he picked at his sweater.  He was trying not to get his hopes up.  Trying not to feel resentful at his parents for fucking up his life with all of this, at his dad for lying to him.  He knew the charges had to be somewhat true or none of this would have happened in the first place.  Figaro's family wasn't rich, but the shop was a staple of the community and they had clients who'd been shopping their for years - for regular stuff! Why did they need that extra money? And what else did his parents keep from him? 

He's such a hypocrite, Figaro thought.  Getting on my arse all the time about toeing the line and not going down Knockturn when this whole time he was running around breaking laws...

He really wanted the opposite to be true.  He wanted to see his mom Apparate in with his little brother Frank, and for her face to be relaxed and calm.  To take him to the Three Broomsticks and buy him a big plate of chips and mayonaise. And then break into a smile and tell him that the trial was over.  Not guilty! He's coming home tomorrow and you'll get a week off school to see him and we can all celebrate.  And Figaro would cheer and jump out of his chair and pump his fist in the air. 

But that wasn't going to happen.  He just hoped that he wouldn't cry when his mom told -

Crack!

Figaro jerked his head up at the sound of an Apparition and turned to see his mom and Frank walking up the path to where he waited at the Owl Post Office.  He stood up and watched them approach.

Zelda Sellaphix had light brown hair and she wore a pointed hat and plain winter robes.  Figaro always thought his mom was pretty for an older witch, with a big smile and smiling eyes.  Even with the wrinkles.  She wore glasses and had long fingers with many rings on them.  His brother Frank was 9 and thinner than Figaro had been at his age, more like mum than dad who Figaro took after.

As soon as Frank saw Figaro, he broke away from his mom and trotted up to the building, and heaving open the heavy door.  Figaro forced a smile and offered a fist to bump which Frank bumped eagerly with a sly smile. 

"Mom said I could have your broom since you don't even use it," Frank said, not boastfully but proudly. 

"Good for you," Figaro replied tolerantly.  Figaro had never made the school Quidditch team no matter trying out every year, so he never bothered to bring along his broom.  Frank could use it if he wanted, so long as Figaro could have it back whenever.

Zelda was along shortly and smiled gently as she approached, wrapping Figaro up in a side hug and leading him back out the door with her.

"How about a big plate of Three Broomsticks chips?"

It was a short, but frigid walk from the owl post office to the cozy Three Broomsticks.  It's rich wood, worn down smooth and uneven on almost ever surface was inviting.  The Saturday afternoon crowd was thin and huddled together in small pockets, deep in booths and tightly around little tables.   Figaro sat with his mum and brother at a table by the fire, a giant basket of piping hot potato fries in front of him. 

He'd eaten a few without his normal passion already, but the look on his mom's face rather killed any sense of enjoyment.  They tasted like nothing.  Frank, however, was plowing in, chattering with excitement.  It had occurred to him lately that he'd be going to Hogwarts in the autumn to come and the topic never seemed far from his brain these days.  Wands, books, Sorting Hats - he talked like he knew all about all of it.  He was convinced that he would get to take a class called simply Dragons, and that he could eat ice cream for every meal in the castle.

"Can we talk about dad?" Figaro finally asked, interrupting Frank and looking defiantly at his mum.  Frank stopped short, fry half-eaten, and looked to Zelda Sellaphix as well.  She frowned a little and sighed.  She didn't fool herself into thinking Figaro didn't know what was coming - she'd just wanted a little peace, some time to be together and smile.  But honestly, only Frank seemed capable today. 

"We can talk about dad," she acquiesced and stirred her tea.  Frank remained silent, but kept on at the fries.

"Your dad's a good man," she told them firmly.  "He never meant to hurt anyone and he never did before all of this.  A mistake was made.  An accident."

Figaro could read his mom easily, but he still just didn't understand.  "If it was just an accident, why has he been gone so long? Why did he have to go to trial, if it was just Mr. Briggs who made a mistake?"

Zelda shook her head.  "The world's not that simple, love.  Sometimes things are... illegal that ...oh, hell Fig..."  She reached out to place her hand on top of his.  Frank looked back and forth between big brother and mum, his own resolve shaking.

"Figaro, love, they found some family secrets.  We've never hurt anyone, never bothered a soul.  A good deal of what they were upset about wasn't illegal when our family started the apothecary.  So it wasn't just the Runespoor, it was -"

Figaro broke away from her grasp and covered his face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.  His whole body ached, and his head was filled with some kind of buzzing.  The world was whirling around him, things set into motion that he couldn't stop.

Fingers scrinched into his hair, elbows firmly on the table, Figaro had a deep frown on his face, and his eyes were shut tightly.  His mum had trailed off and Frank was squishing a chip into the grain of the table, silent.

Head in his hands, on the edge of crying, he whispered, "So he's going to Azkaban."

Little Frank started to cry then, his shoulders shaking.  Not a screaming tantrum, just tears and quick, panicked breathing.  His eyes were locked on his mother, looking to her to confirm or deny Figaro's conclusion.  "No..." he whimpered.

Zelda pulled Frank to herself, sliding him out of his chair over next to her and held his head in a hug.  She'd already done a great deal of crying, away from Frank when they were at home together.  When she was speaking over Floo with her mother, or just alone in an empty bed.  Her voice was very quiet when she finally responded.

"Yes.  They gave him seven years.  It's too much, and the solicitor thinks we could do something to get him home after five, but we can't tell for sure, not now."

But Figaro had slid down down down until he was face down in his folded arms on the table.  His mom's voice came through the muffle of his shoulders, far away.  He felt empty inside, like he'd stepped into a reality that wasn't his.  It felt like a fantasy.  Like just words that meant so much that they really meant nothing.  Words didn't match what was really happening.  He dreaded the moment it became real.  When would that be?  He felt puzzlingly humiliated.  His family was a good family.  His dad was a good man.  How could all this have happened? Couldn't the Aurors just give him another chance.

His fingers curled into a fist as he started to cry, his face hidden.  His mother stroked his hair. 

After a few minutes, the remaining Sellaphixes sitting quietly, comfortingly together in the pub.  Figaro's hand snaked out from the nest he'd made for himself to pluck a cold french fry from the basket, and draw it back inside to eat it under the table.