Snow beat against the windows of the cottage; Emilia fed another log into her wood stove. She was not sure whether or not she would be able to sleep. It was far past the usual time she went to bed, but usually she didn't feel so locked-in — usually the snow was not piling outside of her door, and usually she did not have her beloved sister-in-law continually reminding her of the women who were likely giving birth right now, unassisted.

"Do you think your flatmate's alright?" Emilia asked, quietly. She topped-up both their teacups. Emilia had noticed Winnie's absences from her flat; she had also noticed her return.

What better time to investigate than now, when they were locked in together and Winnie was worrying helplessly about her clients? It would spare Emilia from worrying about potential anomalies causing the storm, and about the struggles she would face in trying to get to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow.

Emilia was glad that Winnie would not go back home to a frozen roommate, but the answer didn't appease her desire for gossip. She was going to have to find another way to ask — maybe a way to be more direct. If this snow kept up, then she would have plenty of time to do so.

"By my math, you're winning," Emilia said, smiling as she poked fun at her sister-in-law, "But I'm sure if he's trapped in here tomorrow he'll catch up to you." Emilia loved her son, and thought that he was much more mature than other people his age. However, he was still a teenage boy — and she was sure he had things he would rather do than spend time with his mother and aunt.

"I don't think it's natural," she said, tilting her head back towards the snowstorm.

"Yes, but it has a larger radius than usual," Emilia replied. She had gotten her instruments set up to take some readings of the weather before leaving the Ministry today, because she was interested in the cold temperatures, but now she wished that she had brought some of them home with her before the implosion.

"We'll see when he really starts to go stir crazy," Emilia added. Her son took after her in most respects, but there was a touch of his father in him — Kit would never have abided being trapped like this, even before his kidnapping. After — he really would never have tolerated it after.

"Do you think Kit's alright?"

Kit would be fine; Emilia had to believe Winnie that he would be fine. She stepped away from the window and settled into the armchair next to her sister-in-law. "It can't," Emilia said simply. This couldn't last as long, because it would kill them first — the freezing cold, and the piled-up snow, were not amenable to human life.

That wasn't soothing, though; she would not say it out loud.

"Are you ever going to tell me why you're back in your flat full-time?" Emilia said — despite the rudeness of the sentence, her tone was demure, and she looked at Winnie over the top of her mug of tea expectantly.

Emilia laughed; getting called a bitch had startled it out of her. "Of course I do," she replied. "It's not as if we have anything else to do. Or as if my life is interesting." She hadn't had intercourse in years — Winnie had to give her something to live vicariously through.

Emilia listened patiently to Winnie's story, and at the end, reached out to pull her sister-in-law into a one-armed hug. "You are not less than because you want different things from other people," she said into Winnie's hair, "And you will find someone you can be everything for without wanting children."