Then again, the Weasly family's standard of normality and the rest of the worlds standard of normality are two very different things.

“Kindly masticate with your mouth closed Mr Potter,” she said primly before continuing up to the teachers table.

Albus went bright red and looked at me in alarm “did she just say what I think she said?”

I sighed “she said masticate Albus, it means to chew.”

Hugo snorted “yeah right.”

Hugo looked sheepish “I will not train the Gryffindor first years for warfare and use them as my own personal hit squad and then pit them against the Slytherin first years in an epic battle and take bets on the winner because it's taste-less, tacky, and not a good money-making strategy?”

“You never did that!” said Lily “that was James and Dom last year!”

“Yeah but I helped with the betting.”

“In fairness” observed Lucy thoughtfully “a broken finger wouldn’t actually maim her given the standard of medical care in the castle means it would be perfectly set.  But even if it wasn’t, maiming implies an inability to function properly due to the disrupted body part and people can function with crooked index fingers. So in answer to your question no, you didn’t just see Dom try to maim anyone.”

He rolled his eyes “cut the dramatics Weasley…”

“No! I won’t! In what possible realm of the imagination is trying to kill me as a method of betting closer to Rose somehow acceptable?”

“You were never in any danger…” he insisted.

“Did it occur to you to keep trying?” she sobbed, “I never, ever give up on you when you mess up Dom! And you mess up often, and royally! And I’m supposed to be perfect, and good, and in the background supporting everyone else! And he makes me feel like I might just be the starring role in my own life after all! And so you know what? I lied. I lied Dom! But I was going to tell you all, because I realised something when I visited him in hospital wing! The more I love my decisions the less I need you, or anyone else, to approve them!”

He winked, “I knew you had a thing for me, but sorry Dominique my darling, I’m giving fidelity a fair shot.”

“Please, my sudden urge to hug you was more along the lines of, ‘oh no, someone whipped that poor innocent niffler’ let me go comfort it before it turns so vicious as a result of the trauma that it can never be re-homed.”

He chuckled, “is that some sort of sex game you play with Scamander? Who’s the niffler and who wields the whip?”

Hugo, ignoring all of us, strode purposefully towards the garden shed.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my bat,” he said flatly.

“I’ll get the snitch,” said James grimly.


I sighed, “James, you do know they’re not actually having a Quidditch match right?”