It was a busy July morning in the Potter household, situated in Godric's Hollow, and Everleigh Potter had been bustling around the house, completing various chores and tasks, since the moment she had woken up, really. Summer holidays had come around much faster than the woman would've liked and, before she had had time to prepare, both of her teenagers had returned from Hogwarts for seven weeks.

As soon as they had arrived home, Charlus had rushed up to his bedroom straight away, with hardly a coherent word to any of his family and the situation hadn't changed much for the past week, with him simply staying there and only showing his face at mealtimes (and, even then, Charlus looked so stony faced and miserable that no one even attempted to ask him whether he was okay for fear of being snapped at).

Sighing, Everleigh waved her wand to dry the dishes that were lying on the side, just next to the sink that was overflowing with bubbles and froth from the washing up that the matriarch of the Potter family had just completed. She had a few moments to herself, a few minutes of peace, before the telltale footsteps of her youngest daughter sounded in the background and she instantly snapped into mother mode again.

"How can I help you, sweetie?" Everleigh found herself asking before Olivia had even stepped into the kitchen and the seven year old froze, her eyes widening in surprise as her mouth fell open, "How did you even know I was there?!" she shrieked, looking alarmed and annoyed with her eyes now narrowed suspiciously.

"I'm magic," Everleigh said drily, waggling her fingers in a jazz-hand fashion whilst her daughter stood there, with her hands placed on her hips as a dead-pan expression masked her face, one eyebrow raised, "Haha, Mum. That was such a funny joke that I actually forgot to laugh!" Olivia told her with a heavy sarcastic tone lining her words, a fake smile on her face.

"When did you develop such an attitude?" Everleigh asked her daughter with a great degree of shock and incredulity, wiping her wet hands on a tea-towel before sitting herself down at the newly polished kitchen table, elbows propping her chin up as she stared inquisitively at Olivia, who was still appearing extremely unimpressed with her mother.

"Sarcasm isn't an attitude, Mum, it's an art," Olivia flicked her blonde hair insufferably, smirking a little at Everleigh, who was extremely exasperated and simply buried her head in her hands with a deep sigh. At that moment, Rochelle entered the kitchen and rolled her eyes at the sight of the smug Olivia and evidently despairing Everleigh.

"What have you said now?" the fourteen year old demanded of Olivia, who sent her a dirty look, "Why do you always assume that I've said something?" she placed a hand on her chest and adopted an innocent expression that convinced absolutely no one, especially not Rochelle who glanced at her disparagingly.

"Well, no one else is in the room so you must've said something, idiot. Unless you're going to tell me that the dishes started insulting our mother?" Rochelle challenged her sister and, when Olivia opened her mouth in order to retort, the older girl waved her off dismissively and told her not to bother, earning her a black look from the girl in question.

Rochelle walked over to Everleigh and placed a hand on her arm, "What's wrong, Mum?" she asked her mother with a great level of concern and it was at this point that Olivia subdued from her glaring state and also sat next to Everleigh, making the woman lift her head slowly and smile wanly, "I'm just worried about your brother, to be honest," she admitted.

Olivia instantly pulled a face, "He's hibernated but July isn't in wintertime so I reckon he thinks he's in Australia which is why he's hibernating now," she shrugged, evidently proud of her knowledge about the difference between the Northern Hemisphere and the Southern Hemisphere.

Rochelle glanced at Olivia in an incredulous manner, "How the hell do you know that?" she questioned her sister, who simply responded by sticking out her tongue and saying, "I listen when Mum teaches me. Maybe you should try it sometimes," she added sassily and Everleigh concealed a chuckle behind her hand before being reduced back to her worried mother hen state.

"I'm just concerned about Charlus. The last letter I got from him was saying about how he had finally told Mia he loved her and she'd said it back to him. And now, he's hardly spoken a single word since school broke up for summer," Everleigh fretted, biting her lip fiercely and Olivia adopted a thoughtful expression as Rochelle placed both palms on the table and used it to shove herself up, "I'm going to go and talk some sense into him."

"That'll be hard for you to achieve, considering you have zero sense yourself," Olivia muttered underneath her breath but only Everleigh heard, as all mothers manage to hear their children's murmurs no matter what, and she sent a disapproving look in her daughter's direction before calling out to Rochelle, "Rochelle, don't. Leave him, he'll come down and talk to us when he's ready," Everleigh told the fourteen year old with all of the exasperation of a tired mother.

"So never, then? He was like this near the end of school as well, I just assumed it was exam stress," Rochelle informed Everleigh, who sighed yet again, "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked and Rochelle shrugged in response, claiming that she didn't want to worry her mother, which caused Olivia to snort.

However, Everleigh was certainly worried now but she didn't want to invade her son's privacy. Charlus was sixteen, after all and if he wanted to be in a mood, there was nothing much that she could do about it. Hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream plus a cuddle from his mother wouldn't help Charlus out of his stupor much anymore...she was pretty much useless.

"Leave it, Rochelle," Everleigh repeated but the blonde continued walking out of the kitchen doorway, only stopping when Everleigh finally snapped and spoke out in a crisp, stern tone that made both of her daughters jump in alarm, "Rochelle Ottalie Potter, if you step one more toe over that threshold, I will ground you into next week."

Olivia started giggling at her sister's annoyed expression, failing at concealing her laughter behind her hands and Rochelle glared at her as she plopped herself back down in the kitchen chair that she had only recently vacated, her arms crossed whilst she huffed with irritation. Everleigh reached across the table to Rochelle, "It's just....if anyone has to talk to him, I'd rather it be me because I'm the one who knows him the best."

Olivia scoffed quietly before slipping off her seat silently, taking her chance to escape upstairs as Rochelle and Everleigh delved into a proper mother-daughter conversation, the two of them not noticing the seven year old attempting to sneak out. Until.... "Olivia Rae Potter, where do you think you're going?"

Everleigh had glanced up and her stern tone had issued out of her mouth yet again, making Olivia shiver a little before she beamed in innocently, "Upstairs," she squeaked before adding, "Why do you keep using our full names anyways, Mum? Are you just proving to us that you know them?" she added cheekily.

Everleigh was about to retort when Olivia suddenly shot off like a bullet through the doorway, waving cheerfully to Rochelle and mouthing that she was 'nothing but a coward.' Everleigh groaned and immediately rushed after her youngest, naughtiest daughter, "Olivia Rae Potter! Come back here!" she bellowed.

When the seven year old failed to answer and instead carried on running up the stairs, Everleigh yelled again, "OLIVIA! COME BACK HERE!" only to hear a giggle from the girl in question before Olivia called out, "There was no need to repeat yourself, Mum. I ignored you just fine the first time around," from the top of the stairs as Everleigh sighed and muttered something about giving up with her youngest daughter entirely.

Meanwhile, Charlus had been lying on his bed upstairs and had raised his head out of his slightly damp pillow (though he would never admit as to why it was so wet) to listen to the sounds of his mother and sister arguing, albeit not seriously. He guessed where Olivia was heading and got ready to prop himself up when she burst through his door, chuckling to herself.

"Go away, Liv," Charlus groaned, shielding his eyes from the bright light that had poured into his dark and gloomy bedroom from the hallway once the door had been opened. Annoyingly, his sister didn't budge from the doorway and instead stood there with her arms crossed, shaking her head, "Look at you. What a pathetic excuse for a human," she tutted, a scarily similar mannerism that she had adopted from Everleigh.

Charlus stuck his middle finger up at Olivia - usually he wouldn't be so rude towards his sister but his heart was officially broken in half and he was pretty sure he hadn't felt anything but grumpy, upset and angry for the past few months, ever since Euphemia had broken up with him 'for his own safety.' Whatever.

Olivia gasped loudly, appearing extremely offended, "I can't believe you just did that. I am trying to help you, dimwit! Now, what's the matter? Talk," she ordered with a surprisingly concerned tone for a seven year old, seeing as many children of her age wouldn't be able to be so alert to others' emotions or ascertain whether someone was upset or not.

Charlus didn't really want to speak - he hadn't even told his friends what had happened between him and Mia (they had just assumed that the two had broken up and, in order to make things less awkward, none of them had asked any more questions - especially because Charlus and Euphemia had both looked so miserable).

However, the way that Olivia was looking at him made him realise just how much he needed to talk to someone, just how much he longed to spill out all of these feelings inside of him that were threatening to overflow in the form of relentless tears and he'd already cried enough this summer, just on his own.

"Mia broke up with me," Charlus finally mumbled, his heart aching at the simple admittance of that fact - he hadn't ever said those words out loud to anyone since that fateful day back in May, nearly two whole months ago now. People had simply assumed, they had left him to his own devices (with the exception of Florean and Alastor - those two had stuck by him throughout all of his moods).

Olivia tilted her head to one side in confusion, "What does 'broke up' mean?" she asked. The girl may have been intelligent for her age in terms of witty remarks and knowledge based conversations but, when it came to dating terms, the seven year old was pretty much clueless unless the words used were ones she was more accustomed to hearing, such as 'girlfriend', 'boyfriend', 'husband' and 'wife.'

"Has she broken something of yours?" Olivia questioned relentlessly and Charlus nearly laughed at the irony, simply replacing the sound of scoffing amusement with a wry smile and one-shouldered shrug, "Yeah, she has," he replied, whilst thinking - Yes she has broke something of mine....my heart. But he didn't say it out loud.

Despite Charlus' practically monosyllabic answer, Olivia seemed to guess exactly how Charlus was feeling at that moment and she placed her little hand over the top of his, like she had seen her mother do, and she leaned into him a little to try and comfort him. "I'm sure it won't be broken for very long. Broken things tend to get fixed at some point, even if it seems like they'll stay ruined forever. If it's truly worth fixing, it won't stay broken. S'long as you both try to fix it...."

Though the words were jumbled up and Charlus was pretty sure that Olivia had no idea what she was babbling on about (she was still under the impression that Euphemia had just broken something of his, not necessarily that they were no longer dating), the genuine sentiment was sweet and Charlus found himself hugging his little sister, which she found surprising but welcomed it even so.

"Say, are you quite alright?" Olivia's muffled voice came from where her head had been squashed into Charlus' chest, his jacket making her speech practically inaudible. Charlus pulled away with a dry chuckle that sounded strange to his ears because, even though it was not a laugh of joy or humour really, he hadn't laughed in so long and it was certainly weird.

"Not really, Liv, but thank you for asking," Charlus said rather quietly and, instead of pulling a face and claiming that she didn't actually care in that smart-arse manner that she had somehow perfected over the past year, Olivia sent him a look of concern that was rather abnormal to see on a seven year old's face, squeezing his hand again.

"Spill the beans, Charlus. Mum always says there's no point in keeping stuff bottled up because the bottle soon gets too full and bubbles over, especially if you shake it loads and loads, even if you've been told not to, and then it explodes...." Olivia got a little carried away with her statement and Charlus watched her with a tired amusement before she added hastily, "That was not based on a true example. Totally hypothetical."

Charlus made a non-committal noise that bordered between disbelief and exasperation before shrugging tiredly, "I don't really want to talk about it," he lied. In a way, that statement was true because he didn't want to speak about the situation, he didn't want to admit that a whole array of devastating things had happened because that would only break his heart even more than it was.

After pure denial, admittance was the first step towards acceptance and Charlus didn't really want to accept the fact that him and Euphemia were officially broken up, that they would never kiss or hug again, never joke around with one another, never again actually feel the pure unadulterated happiness that had electrocuted between them in joyful currents whenever they were together....no thank you.

If it had been Florean or Alastor asking, or perhaps one of his parents, Charlus might've crumbled and he may have started talking, he may have started spilling out all of his secrets but he didn't really feel like becoming so vulnerable in front of his seven year old sister, who saw him as very brave and not the type to start bawling his eyes out over some girl.

Olivia raised her eyebrows at Charlus for a few moments before sighing and deciding not to bother pushing him if he wasn't willing to talk because that could easily lead to resentment stemming from him towards her. "Okay," she said simply and to say that Charlus was shocked about his sister actually dropping a subject instead of being annoyingly persistent in receiving an answer would've been an understatement.

"I have better things to do with my time, anyway," Olivia added rather dramatically with a graceful flourish as she slid off the bed, fluffing her blonde hair out a little with her small hands. "Oh yeah? Like what?" Charlus asked with a laugh, feeling instant relief that he didn't have to tell his sister anything. "A Queen never reveals her secrets, peasant. You should know that, Fleamont," she told him with an air of superiority, looking down her nose at him (which proved to be difficult as Olivia was much smaller than Charlus).

"Would a Queen reveal her secrets if she was tickled, d'you think?" Charlus questioned innocently, advancing towards his little sister, who immediately put her guard up and regarded him with a great deal of caution, her arms crossed firmly to prevent access to under her arms. "Pfft. Queens like myself don't get ticklish," Olivia insisted.

She was soon to regret her words, however, because Charlus grabbed her sides and began to tickle her, watching as she squirmed and giggled, with little squeals of surprise and glee escaping from her previously tight-lipped mouth. Olivia wriggled about for a little longer before falling to the floor with a thump and crawling furiously towards the door, reminding Charlus of when she was a little toddler speeding around on all fours everywhere, tripping people up as she did so.

"The Queen is leaving now," Olivia announced with as much dignity as she could possibly muster, her head held high in the air and she simpered sweetly for a second before scrambling out of his bedroom without a second glance. As soon as she left, the smile slipped off Charlus' face and the same loneliness that had been haunting him for the past few weeks overtook him again, engulfing him whole and drowning him in a lake of sorrow.

Silence filled his bedroom again and Charlus sighed, glancing around at the messy room: his clothes were strewn across the floor and draped across random parts of furniture in a careless manner; his waste-paper bin in the corner was overflowing with rubbish and miscellaneous packets; his bed was unmade and rumpled, with his pillow certainly damper than it should be and his bedside table was scattered with crumpled up tissues and a few Firewhiskey bottles that he had nicked from Henry's stash.

Charlus made his way over to the desk, that rested against the far wall of his bedroom, observing the stack of unopened letters that were piled up there. They were from a varied amount of people - Florean had sent several, for example, as had Minerva and Alastor. Pretty much every member of the S.S.E.A.W. and all of Charlus' and Mia's mutual friends had sent their condolences to see whether he was okay (or so he assumed as he hadn't actually opened them yet).

But the worst one of the lot was a rather thin envelope on top of the pile that had been the very one that Charlus had veered away from completely - the one with a hastily scrawled address and a slightly damp texture to it. Now, Charlus finally actually allowed his fingers to drift over the letter from his ex-girlfriend and, for some reason, he began to open it.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was genuinely curious to see what Euphemia had to say or maybe it was because Olivia's words about broken things being able to be fixed if people tried hard enough were repeating in his head, but Charlus picked at the seal and slipped the letter out. It was only a small piece of paper but Charlus felt like he was handling some religious scroll, his heart thudding wildly:

Dear Flea,
                   I am so, so, so sorry. I don't know what else to say. I'm just sorry, everything in my life is so empty without you. I love you, I'm utterly devastated that I have to let you go but it's for your own safety. I love you too much to put your life at risk.

Love, Mia x

And that was when Charlus Potter truly broke down. It was a mixture of emotions in a way - his ex girlfriend's simple words were enough to reduce him to tears that were a mix of sadness, anger and just pure, heart-wrenching devastation. He just didn't understand....he was so angry and yet his heart ached for Euphemia and what she must be going through.

Charlus was also frustrated with himself - if only he had managed to figure out some sort of plan in time to save Mia, to save their relationship. He should've fought harder, he should've tried harder to sustain their love for one another....it was all his fault. Charlus had let Euphemia go and he would never, never forgive himself for that.

Unbeknownst to Charlus, at that very moment, Henry Potter had arrived home from work at the Ministry and, upon hearing his son's heartbroken cries in his bedroom, the patriarch of the Potter family couldn't leave Charlus alone anymore, as Everleigh had insisted on them doing because 'he needs his space' and the man made his way upstairs.

Charlus noticed the doorknob of his bedroom turning and he originally thought it was Olivia returning again and immediately span around, so that she wouldn't see him crying. But no, it was Henry and his father's heart just about broke into half at the sight of his son so upset about a girl, a girl that Henry knew that Charlus loved very, very much.

"Oh, my son. My boy," Henry practically whispered and he held out his arms, enveloping the sobbing Charlus in a tight hug as tears started in his own eyes at seeing his son so utterly broken, so defeated and so upset. "It's over, it's actually over, Dad," Charlus cried out, shaking from head to toe as Henry continued to embrace him, rocking him from side to side like he did when Charlus was little.

"It's never over, not until you stop trying," Henry told his son, assuming that they were talking about Mia. Everleigh and Henry may have left Charlus to his own devices and tried to respect his privacy and his boundaries for the past week or so, but they weren't entirely stupid and the husband and wife had come to the devastating conclusion that Euphemia and Charlus had officially broken up.

"I...don't w-want to t-try anymore...I'm sick of trying and never getting anything in return," Charlus actually struggled to breathe and Henry placed one hand on his son's chest and the other on his back, guiding him to take deep breaths, in and out.

"You don't get anything if you don't try, Charlus. I know it's hard, I know it's terrible when you don't receive anything in return but, if you don't make the effort - who will? And if Mia doesn't appreciate that, she doesn't deserve you. I honestly don't understand why she's even broken up with you in the first place - I mean, look at you!" Henry gestured to Charlus as if he was the most wonderful sight he'd seen all day.

"You're going to say that because you're my dad," Charlus mumbled modestly, managing to stem his flow of tears and he rubbed at his extremely red eyes, seeming to regain his composure now that he'd had a good cry. "Because I'm your dad, it matters the most because I know you the most," Henry said earnestly before silently handing his son a tissue, which Charlus accepted with a wobbling smile.

"Don't blame her though, Dad. She didn't have a choice...she's getting arranged married to her cousin, you see and so—" Charlus was cut off as Henry dropped the box of tissues he was holding, his mouth falling open, "What do you mean, she's getting married? Isn't she fifteen, for Merlin's sake?" Henry exclaimed with a mixture of shock and disgust.

Charlus nodded sadly, opening his mouth to tell his father more but Henry had stood up, "And I'm assuming this fiancée of hers made some sort of threat?" he asked of his son and Charlus nodded again, not bothering to speak this time because he just knew that Henry would cut him off. "Well, we can't be having that."

Henry Potter suddenly switched from the caring father that had been comforting his devastated son to a man with a mission, a man who was determined to make this right for Charlus. Because no one, absolutely no one, messed with his son, not over his dead body. "Get up," he commanded Charlus, who stumbled bemusedly to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Charlus asked in bewilderment as Henry dragged him back over to his desk (as Charlus had sunk onto his bed earlier when he was crying) and grabbed a piece of spare parchment that was lying around. "We're going to devise a plan to save your girl," Henry told his son and Charlus' mouth fell open in a sort of horrified delight.

"Wha....why?" Charlus stammered over his words and Henry glanced up from where he had been starting to make bullet points under a rather large, capitalised title that said: MISSION ~ SAVE MIA!! and he gave his son a rather stern glance, "Because no one makes my son suffer. We're going to get you your girlfriend back and we're going to save poor Euphemia from that terrible family."

It was, Henry thought as he watched Charlus (who had a new, feverish excitement around his previously downtrodden and upset demeanour) scribble down some ideas for plans to save Mia from the fateful wedding, truly amazing that he was prepared to go to such lengths just to ensure that Charlus was cured from his broken state.

There was a true magic behind a father and son's bond, after all.

Ahh, everything is looking positive now? Or is it? :)

Terribly sorry about the delay in updates, I've been super busy and I'm also very ill right now BUT I have just returned from seeing Six the Musical so I'm in a rather good mood and decided to publish a chapter for y'all x

17 days till Christmas, guys!🎄