Chapter 12

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The description of Severus's new shop comes from Émile Zola's 1883 novel The Ladies' Paradise, which is about Paris's first department store and one of the inspirations for this fic.

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"This is the ugliest fucking building I have ever seen," Peri said.

"You better be glad my son can't hear you swearing," Severus commented dryly, shifting the baby in his arms. Simon reached up to pat his cheek, and once he had Severus's attention he moved his fist down in front of his stomach to sign hungry.

Soon, Severus signed back. Simon pouted and wiggled his body in an effort to get down. Severus set him down on the sidewalk so he could stand on his own, keeping a tight grip on the toddler's hand. Severus turned back to look at his new shop. Worthington's Weaves had been demolished to make room for it, and it towered two or three storeys above the squat little shops on either side of it. He didn't think it was ugly really, but it was… modern, in a sense, having been designed in the art nouveau-style which, while 80 years out-of-date in the Muggle world, was still centuries ahead of the medieval and Tudor-era buildings that surrounded it. The plate glass door in one corner reached to the very top of the first storey, amidst a medley of ornaments covered in gilding. Two allegorical figures, with laughing faces and unbound hair, unrolled a scroll bearing the inscription, "QUENTIN." Then, along both sides, stretched the windows of the establishment where passerby could see endless rows of robes, cloaks, hats, gloves, boots, and beautifying potions.

"And what did you call it again?"

"A department store," Severus answered.

"The Daily Prophet said it looked like a giant gargoyle taking a shit in the middle of Diagon Alley."

"The Daily Prophet is a second-rate rag." Severus gestured to the great number of wizards and witches pouring into the shop. "People are tired of traipsing up and down Diagon Alley to get fitted for a cloak here, and their shoes cobbled there; now it's all here in one place. And my employees are happier. There's plenty of room and fresh air and sunlight for them to work in. That old backroom that I was shoved in was so dark and dingy, and all summer Agatha and I had to continuously place cooling charms down to keep from dying of heat stroke."

"Admit it," Peri said with a grin. "You designed it to piss off the most amount of people possible. You, sir, are a contrarian."

Severus was silent for a moment, and then he admitted, "I very nearly put neon lights on it but thought that might be pushing my luck."

Peri laughed.

They had lunch in Diagon Alley, and afterwards it was time for Simon's nap. Simon still wasn't old enough to safely side-apparate ("Not until he's at least two years old," the midwife had told him. "After the bones in his skull have fused together."), so they took the long way back to Quentin House. Simon had already fallen asleep by then, his head nestled on Severus's shoulder. He took the boy upstairs and laid him down in the nursery, covering him in his favorite blanket. Severus brushed back his hair and went down to his office to work for an hour or two before Simon woke up again and demanded his attention. Severus went over paperwork at his desk, while Peri read the newspaper in a chair by the fireplace, content to spend the hour in silent companionship. By the time Simon woke up, it was time for Peri to pick Helena up from her day school. Severus spent time signing with Simon, while Peri helped Helena with her homework to the best of his abilities. Maths he was fine with, but neither he nor Helena knew much of Muggle history. Severus tried to dredge up what he could remember from primary school, but Helena was still only barely scraping by. They'll have to get her a tutor. In the evening, they ate dinner together, and afterward they put the children to bed.

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