Phineas and Eleanora arrived at five to the rowdy Shelby's arguing over which uncle was most loved by Thomas-J.

I didn't have the heart to tell them it was Alfie that held that position closely followed by Newt.

No, that wouldn't have gone down well.

"We all know I'm his favourite," Phineas said, scooping the toddler up in his arms, making him laugh.

"None of them are, are they?" Tommy whispered in my ear, pressing a kiss to my cheek as we watched Arthur begrudgingly mutter to John 'it's his birthday' as if that was an excuse not to argue with him.

"It's Alfie," we said together, me with happiness and Tommy just as disgruntled as Arthur.

"Oh, Tommy, when are you going to accept that Alfie is part of this family," I muttered to him, rolling my eyes at the sneer in his face.

"I haven't met this man yet and he's my son's favourite uncle," he grumbled, his fingers itching for a cigarette.

"And who's fault is that? I arranged for you to meet him on New Year's Eve and you weren't here," I hissed, keeping a smile on my face as Polly shot us a look.

"You know I meant to be here," he muttered, sending a small smile to Thomas-J as he waved enthusiastically at his dad.

"Let's not argue today," I said, giving him a pointed look. "This is a family day, Thomas."

"Aye," he agreed, his eyes roaming around the room, taking in our family as we celebrated Phineas' birthday. "This is a family day."

"Tommy, look—" I was cut off from a knock at the door. I gave him a look that stated we'd be talking about it later and dashed off to the door. I opened the door, surprised to see Albus Dumbledore at my doorstep. "Oh, Albus, I didn't know Phin had invited you," I said, confusion no doubt on my face.

"I am here to see Finn, but I think it's a different Finn to whom you're referring to," he replied, holding up a cream envelope.

I paused momentarily as I read the delicate script written in emerald green ink.

Mr Finn Shelby

6 Watery Lane

Small Heath

Birmingham

"Oh," I muttered. Feeling utterly unprepared for this. "You better come in." I held the door open for Albus and gestured for him to head down to the kitchen. "Let me grab Tommy and Polly."

Albus gave a brief nod of agreement but carried down to the kitchen, leaving me outside the parlour door, hesitating.

Why had I not seen any signs that Finn was a wizard? Had there been signs?

"Tommy," I whispered, gently touching his shoulder to gain his attention. I didn't have to say anything else, the worry must have shown on my face. It was the same with Polly when I glanced at her. She was already making her way over, concern painting her features.

We entered the kitchen in silence, neither of them questioning why Albus was here, or why I spelled the door after shutting it.

"This is Albus Dumbledore," I introduced, waving my hand towards the man as he sat at the table. "He's a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Why's he here?" Polly asked. I could see that she was concerned about something. She was probably wondering if I had done something wrong.

"Mrs Gray, when a wizard reaches a certain age they—"

"Sorry," I muttered, cutting him off. "I don't mean to interrupt but I think it's best if I'm the one to explain to them. They're my family." I waited for Albus to agree. I didn't know how it was explained in these times, and I had never seen it explained in my time, but I knew it would come best to the Shelby's if it was explained by me.

"Yes, of course."

"You obviously know about magic," I said to them both, receiving curt nods in return. "We get our Hogwarts acceptance letter when we turn eleven. Most of the time if you're from a wizarding family, it's almost always certain you'd be getting an invite to Hogwarts. Sometimes, a witch or wizard is born into a Muggle family. A family that doesn't have magic and often doesn't know about it."

"How does that work?" Polly asked, curiosity in her voice. I could only imagine where her mind was going. No. I knew where her thoughts were going.

"I personally believe that these Muggleborn witches and wizards are descended from wizarding families, child, grandchild and so on from Squibs."

"Children born into wizarding families that don't receive magic," Albus input as if reading the question off the tips of their heads. "Sorry." He gestured for me to carry on.

"Anyway, I'm getting off track. When a child from a Muggle family is found to be a wizard, they often send a professor from the school to introduce the family to the concept of their child having magic." I paused, hoping they would both be able to understand why Albus was here. "They often come a month or so before the child's eleventh birthday so it's not a complete shock."

"You're saying Finn's a wizard?" Tommy said, finally speaking for the first time.

"Well, yes."

"Why not any of the others?" Polly asked, opening us up to the very good question of why neither Arthur, Tommy, John, or Ada showed signs of magic.

"That's something I can't explain, Polly." I really wanted to have an answer for her but even in my time we didn't know the answer. "My guess is that you all have magic in your blood but Finn's been more exposed to it."

"You reckon it's to do with you?" It wasn't said in a nasty way but I'm sure Albus' took it to mean she was accusing me of it.

"Romy's being here has no effect on Finn's magic," he said, trying to defuse a situation that wasn't even an issue.

"She doesn't mean it in a bad way," I told him, locking eyes with Polly. She didn't mean it like that.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," she corrected, looking at Tommy before directing her gaze on Albus. "Romy came to us in 1916, she let us take her in as family and she eventually exposed magic to us. I just think that perhaps the reason Finn's got a link to his magic is because he's been around it at a young age. Maybe her magic woke him."

No one could know for sure if that was the reasoning for it. I just liked to believe that it was ... simple put ... magic.

"That could be a good theory," Albus muttered, his eyes gazing off as he thought over what she said. "He was exposed because he was still under eleven whereas his older siblings have all reached adulthood without awakening their magic." He brought his hand up to his chin and tapped his finger there a couple of times before bringing himself back into the room. "Fascinating but alas, we can not say for sure. The unknown will always be a mystery."

"So what happens now?" Tommy asked, after an awkward silence filled the room.

"It will be expected that Finn comes to Kings Cross Station on September 1st ready to depart from platform 9¾ at precisely eleven o'clock."

"Platform 9¾?"

"It's not a mistake," I told Polly, knowing exactly what she was thinking. She thought Albus had made a mistake, but he hadn't.

"You don't have any questions?"

"We thank you for coming, Professor Dumbledore," Polly said, taking a step closer to the table. It hadn't escaped my notice that neither her or Tommy had taken a seat during the discussion. "BUt if we have any questions we'll ask Romy, or Newt, or Phineas."

"She doesn't mean that with disrespect, Albus." She kind of did and I think he knew it. "The Shelby's are a very private and protective family. We don't let outsiders in."

Funny that. Considering we had adopted Newt and Phineas.

"I can understand." Albus rose from his seat but paused as he fiddled with something in his suit pocket. "I wonder if you can help me with something."

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There was always that moment when you first wake when everything is silent and still. I used to struggle with that time. The first few moments of wakefulness, when you had to push yourself to get up before you fell back asleep.

That warmth you wrapped yourself up in. Those minutes meant nothing but felt like years.

I loved those minutes.

"You need to get up," Tommy muttered softly, his voice a soft caress against my neck.

And here was someone that didn't love those minutes.

Someone that didn't like the quiet of their mind.

"Hmm, I'm comfortable," I replied, snuggling closer to him, smiling into his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me tighter to his chest.

"You've got work. I've got work," he grunted, shifting away from me as I let my hand slide down his stomach. He caught my hand before I could let it slip into his sleep shorts. "Romy."

"Alright, alright," I grumbled, rolling away from him, sending him a glare as he ruined my fun. "We could be having sex right now, Tommy."

He scoffed at my words, bringing a cigarette to his lips. He brought it back down again when I gave him a stern look. I didn't care about him smoking but I did care about smoking in the bedroom. It made the sheets smell.

"I'll have sex with you later."

"Charming."

"We got things to do," he muttered, rising from the bed and dropping his pack of cigarettes on the bedside table.

"Yeah and one of them isn't fucking your wife into the late morning," I teased, pressing a kiss to his lips before flouncing out of the room to get ready for the morning.

Ten minutes later I was sitting at the table sharing my glance between Thomas-J and the cup of tea in my hands.

There was so much going on at the moment I was almost afraid something was going to go wrong.

"Davie should be here to walk you to the clinic," Tommy said around a cigarette, his arms being pushed through his coat, cap already on his head.

"I think it might be wise if we look into getting a nanny for Thomas-J," I told him, completely ignoring what he said about the little follower he had coming to the house. "It would have to be someone from the wizarding world though, I'll have to ask Ellanora if she knows someone. She may be a muggleborn but she's best friends with Henrietta Weasley as she is a formidable pureblood according to Newt. Apparently she knows all the gossip of the wizarding world. Did you know that—"

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean what's wrong?" I asked, avoiding his eyes as I glanced back down at my teacup. "Why would you ask that?"

"Sweetheart, you're rambling and avoiding looking at me. Andromeda, what's wrong?" I hated how nothing seemed to slip past him. I would have to work better on hiding my nervousness. "Andromeda."

"I think I might be pregnant," I said hesitantly, lifting my eyes to meet his. I hated how still he looked, as if I just told him something of no importance.

"You think?" Okay, that was a slight hint at panic in his voice.

"It's in my tea leaves," I told him, tipping the cup and showing him the leaves at the bottom.

"How can you be sure?" I knew that it just looked like a pile of goo at the bottom of my cup.

"Well we can wait it out a couple of weeks to find out or I can take a potion tonight to confirm it," I muttered, flicking my eyes to Thomas-J who was sitting watching us as he slowly munched on his toast.

"Right, okay, then tonight we'll find out."

"Tommy I would only be a couple of weeks gone, possibly days," I told him, knowing this wasn't the perfect time for us to be bringing a baby into our family. "There's a potion I can take to—"

"No!" Tommy snapped, cutting me off. His rough voice made me jump at how angry he sounded. "If you're carrying my child then you carry it to term."

And without another word he left, the front door slamming behind him.

I honestly wasn't thinking about having an abortion if I was pregnant. I just wanted him to know the option was there if this wasn't what he wanted.

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The clinic wasn't how I imagined it to be.

It was just two houses knocked into one place, converted into what I could most possibly assume was a good looking doctor's practice in current time. It was a clean place.

"Nurse Shelby." I turned to the man that called my name, surprised to see how normal the man looked. I just assumed that being the only doctor in Small Heath he would look a little different. "I'm Doctor Robert Turner, this is Miss Hardy, she's my receptionist."

"Good morning, Doctor Turner," I greeted, shaking the hand he offered.

"Ah, this is Nurse Webb, she'll be taking you on her rounds today." He glanced at his pocket watch, sending me a regretful smile. "I've got a house call to make."

"Oh, umm." He rushed out of the clinic, his coattails rushing out the door behind him.

"I'm Dotty," Nurse Webb introduced, a large smile on her face as her blonde curls bounced with her. "We should be off to the convent to pick up our bags."

Nodding along, I ended up following Dotty through the twists and turns of Small Heath until we came upon the convent. On the way Dotty had explained to me how the nuns of the convent helped out with their nursing and midwifery skills all throughout Small Heath.

Living with the nuns was Dotty, and three other young nurses. Edna Hawkins, a mousey brown-haired girl that took to nursing during the war and was now a lost soul after losing her fiance in the fields of France. Mary Hobbs, an orphan from the streets of Small Heath that was taken in by the nuns at age nine and shown the way of nursing and now a fully qualified nurse. And Agnes Gates, a runaway from Scotland but a bubbly, loud and friendly nurse that everyone in Small Heath adored.

"She's got red hair like you, but she's crazy. A good crazy, like she's a bit weird, like you but not so ..." Dotty trailed off, her eyes growing wide with fear as she looked at me in shock. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to call you weird, there's a lot of rumours about you around here and I talk when I'm nervous."

"It's okay, Dotty," I assured her, giving a sigh of relief as she opened the door to the convent and we were greeted by the nuns and other nurses.

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The day was a busy one.

I was shadowing Dotty as Doctor Turner stated in the morning, but it seemed once Dotty got over her nerves she treated me as if she'd known me her whole life.

Most of the patients we saw today were men recovering from small injuries caused by the factories but we did visit three expecting mothers.

For some reason it was the last mother we met that stuck in my head.

She was eight months pregnant and a widow. Her husband, according to Dotty, had killed himself after being stuck in his mind from the war. PTSD, except in 1919 they had no name for it or any good ways to treat it.

Bessie Clarke couldn't have been much older than Ada but the poor girl had already suffered too much in a lifetime. She looked deflated like she was barely holding on.

She reminded me of Merry.

Trying to survive with a broken heart.

Part of me knew if she didn't have this baby to think about she would have taken that same way out as her husband.

"You're a witch aren't you, Nurse Shelby," Bessie muttered softly as Dotty left the room to prepare some tea.

"How do you..." I trailed off wondering how she knew.

"My grandmother was a muggleborn, married my grandfather, a half-blood. My parents were of the magic world and so was I along with my brother and sister. The only one that didn't get it was my cousin Lizzie," she said, sitting up and bringing down her dress to cover her swollen belly. "She's not a squib, just adopted."

"Oh."

"My Victor wasn't a wizard, just a lovely muggle man that I fell in love with. My parents cut me off when I married him. They had dreams for me, wished I would do something useful in the wizarding world."

"I don't think you should have to stay in the wizarding world even if you are a witch or wizard," I muttered, not agreeing that inve you completed your wizarding education you had to stay in the wizarding world. I knew many witches and wizards that went on to live muggle-based lives.

"If you were in my position, Nurse Shelby, about to give birth to a fatherless baby with no family around you, would you keep it?"

That seemed like a hard question to answer.

I knew where Bessie was coming from.

In this day and age, keeping her baby might not be the best thing for her to do. She had no income and no way to support herself or her child. She was barely hanging in from a broken heart but I could tell she loved this child.

"I would do anything for my child, Bessie. I would walk into a burning building for Thomas-J. Walk over glass for him. If I had to die to save him I would. It's part of being a mother. It comes from here," I said, resting my hand over her heart and giving her a pointed look "The love you have for your child is unlike any other love you have in your life. It's unbreakable."

"I've seen you with your boy, he looks like his father," she laughed, and it was obvious for everyone to know Thomas-J was Tommy's spitting image.

"Thomas-J was born prematurely to my sister, Merry." I gave a small smile at the shock on Bessie's face. I felt like she needed to know this story. "Merry died giving birth to him but I promised her I would care for him as if he was my own. We made a blood contract."

"So he is yours?" she questioned and I was glad she had some idea about blood contract. "My father worked in the Magical Law Department."

"He's also Tommy's now. He did a blood contract once he arrived from France. Thomas-J is our son, nothing will ever change that. I am grateful to Merry for bringing him into this world but he is mine now."

"I wish my sister was like you, but she's selfish."

"I'm sure she loves you," I muttered thinking about the sisterly love between myself and Ada. "Even if she doesn't show it."

"I asked her to take care of my baby if anything happened to me and she told me it would be better off in an orphanage." How could I respond to that? "It doesn't matter anyway. You've shown me what I need to do."

"Bessie! You left the washing on the line," Dotty said, a basket of washing in her arms which she carefully dropped on the floor by the sofa. "I've made you a quick sandwich and the kettle's finished boiling. I'll bring you a cup of tea and then I'll show Nurse Shelby back to the convent so we can clear our equipment."

"Thank you, Dotty," Bessie muttered, yawning as she rose from the sofa. "I think I'll eat my sandwich, drink my tea and head off for an early night." She turned to me and gave me a tired smile. "Thank you for your help Nurse Shelby."

"You can call me, Romy, and you know where I live if you ever need anything, Bessie. Anytime."

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