Title: Translucent Lives
Author: Becca!
Email: lordsbecca@yahoo.com
Category: Uh...::thinks:: Drama? Sure. Fine. Whatever. A mix of everything, I think.
Summary: Just thought of this when a book mentioned a character named Minerva...
Disclaimer: They're mine, all mine! You here me?! Mine! Back away, J.K. Rowling! You too, Scholastic! Don't even try me, Warner Bros.! ::blinks:: ::sigh:: Fine. Familiar characters aren't mine. Is that so wrong?! ::evil grin:: But they'll be mine someday! SOMEDAY! ::evil cackle::

Chapter One – Undone Buns

"MICKEY!"

Little Minnie ran after the blue-eyed boy, her silky black hair trailing after her. It had at one point been pulled back into a tight bun, which caused the five-year-old to look much older than she was. But her brother, Michael, had chosen that moment to play the game of "Annoy-Little-Sister". He was champion at that game.

Michael, more commonly called Mickey, ran in front on his younger sister, his arm waving the elastic, which had at one point held Minnie's hair back. Her little legs sprinted after him, but were not able to keep up with the older boy. He turned and ran backwards, decelerating a bit, and beamed at the girl.

"Minnie, Minnie!" he cried, his voice still a tad high-pitched, considering his age of thirteen, "Come an' ge' me!"

Squishing her face up and glaring at the boy, she exploded, her tears streaming down her face and onto her cheeks. Her skin was now absorbing the salty substance, and just below her nose caught some dipping mucus: she always got a runny nose when she cried.

Alarmed, Mickey hurried over to her and held out the elastic. "Aw, I'm sorry, Min. Don't cry." When the little girl didn't stop, Mickey did the only thing an older brother would do: he picked her up; she was rather small; and tickled her until she was giggling insanely.

Rubbing her nose with one hand, Minnie scooped up the elastic from Mickey with the other, and placed it around her wrist. She made a mental note of where she just put it: she tended to forget easily, even if the object was right in front of her eyes. She then yawned, and leaned against Mickey, wrapping her short, slightly chubby arms around her brother's neck. He smiled down at her, though she couldn't see that, and began leading her back to the house.

They had been playing outside in the driveway to the house. It wasn't paved—just a dirt road. There were evergreen trees on either side of the path, which shaded it completely, only allowing little specks of sunlight to enter through the branches. It was summer, Minnie's favorite time of year, because Mickey was home. Despite the eight-year age difference, he adored her, and she adored him. They were rarely separated. In fact, they were only apart when Mickey was at school, or when Mickey was visiting their mother.

Their parents had divorced under circumstances unusual to normal ones. Minnie and Mickey's father was what people called a "wizard"—someone who could do magic. Of course, their mother was non-magic, or a "Muggle", as their father called her. It was quite a terrifying shock to Jane, their mother, when she realized that Eric was a wizard. She decided that she could no longer love him because of what he was, and he could not love her in return anymore.

They had gotten a divorce when Minnie was only a newborn; so she never knew what it was like to have two parents living in one house. Mickey, on the other hand, had been greatly affected by the split. Mickey had no magic within him, and his mother liked the idea of him staying away from Eric, who may just "infect" Mickey with magic. But it was up to Mickey who he lived with. He had chosen his father only because that's where Minnie would be.

And Minnie would be there because she did have powers, and Jane was too shallow to have anything to do with her magic daughter. It was a given that Minnie would stay with her father, and she wouldn't have it any other way. Minnie didn't visit her mother, considering they didn't care for one another. And though Mickey would visit his mother every other weekend, he never really enjoyed it: if Jane didn't love Minnie, Mickey wouldn't love Jane.

"What's wrong with my Blondie?" Eric asked, waiting on the porch for his two children to return from their gallop in the drive. He had heard Minnie's cries from before. The nickname "Blondie" was a joke: both Eric and Jane were blonde, along with Mickey, so to have Minnie as a raven-haired child seemed slightly funny.

Mickey jumped up the porch steps. "I was teasing her. Guess I went a bit far." He placed the no-longer-sobbing Minnie on the porch floor, and she shuffled into a chair.

"He took out my bun!" she exclaimed, pointing to her wispy locks of hair that were strewn across her shoulders. "Daddy, put it back in!"

Eric smiled. He had become a professional hair-doer in his few years of having a little girl. "Alright," he complied, repositioning himself until he was staring at the back of Minnie's head. As he carefully did the bun, he talked to Mickey. "What did you see down at the creek?"

Mickey shook his head. "Nothing, really. Dull as Doug."

Laughing, Eric shook his head. "What have I said about criticizing your mother's boyfriend?"

"Do it a lot?" asked Minnie.

Eric smirked and yanked her hair gently. "No, Blondie! I said: 'No criticizing your mother's boyfriend, Doug'. That's what I said."

"But dad!" Mickey groaned. "It just brings so much joy to life."

"Oh, quiet, you!" Eric lightly scolded. He maneuvered his leg so that he was able to kick his boy in the behind. "You know that I don't mind the jokes about Doug, but someday, you're going to accidentally let it slip in front of him, or worse, your mother. And then what? I'd be blamed!" He patted Minnie's shoulders. "Done!"

She jumped off the chair, the old wooden planks beneath giving in slightly to her weight. The patio was painted a light blue, though there was hardly any paint left on it. Over the past who-knows-how-many-years, the paint had been worn away by the constant footsteps running around on it, rain, snow, and the bird remains left so generously by Eric's owl, which was lovingly named Owl.

The house itself was stucco, which had turned dirty over the years. When Jane would come over to "rescue" Mickey, she would always tell Eric he should power-wash the sides. Of course, Eric always replied, "Why wash it, if it's just going to be dirty again within the end of the year?" which always caused Jane to roll her eyes, throw her shoulders back, and make a "tsk tsk" sound.

Eric fell into the chair in which Minnie had just abandoned, and said, "So you saw nothing neat at the creek?"

Shaking his head, Mickey sat in the swinging bench. "No, nothing of interest."

"Not true!" exclaimed Minnie, rushing back over to her father. "I saw a pretty butterfly and flowers!"

Mickey smirked. "Like I said, nothing of interest."

Minnie stuck her tongue out at her brother, and pouted. "You only like bugs, and frogs and stuff. Butterflies and flowers are much better than bugs."

"I don't think so," Mickey stated, lying down into the bench. "Don't you find it interesting that some bugs have four legs, while other have a million?"

This caused Minnie to squirm and squeal. She dramatically flung herself into her father's chest, and covered her ears, trying to block out Mickey's continuing descriptions.

"And some have one eye and others have eight..."

Minnie squealed again, pushing even further into Eric. He smiled down at her, and helped her by putting is own large, rough hands over her hand and ears. "Mickey, stop," he ordered. Mickey pouted and grumbled about his sister being a wimp, but Eric and Minnie didn't hear this. They were too busy talking about how disgusting Mickey was.

A sudden roar hit the three pairs of ears, and they all looked down the driveway. Minnie pouted, Mickey sighed, and Eric grimaced.

"Mick, go get your bags. Minnie, you'd better wait in your room...you know how your mother is..." He smiled down at the sulking girl. "After they leave, we'll go out to eat. You and me. Father-Daughter-Dinner. How's that sound?"

Minnie sighed. "It'd sound better with Mickey in it," she murmured, and hustled up to her room.

Eric just sighed sadly, and awaited seeing is ex-wife. Jane, the thought. Oh the joy...