Written for Round 3 of Season 6 of the QLFC
Team: Kenmare Kestrels
Position: Chaser 1
Prompts: Tamagotchi
Optional prompts: 14. (genre) family, 3. (color) mauve, and 5. (word) cryptic
Word Count: 1257
In was a lazy Friday evening in front of the Burrow when Ron Weasley first broached the subject of The Thing.
"I just," he mused, waiting for a moment when his mother's head was turned to lick his fingers, "Can't understand Dad's obsession with it!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ronald. Like you've never had strange obsessions before."
"But not like that." He turned to Teddy, who was watching the conversation in wide-eyed fascination. "Do you like it that much, Teddy?"
Teddy shook his head, turning his hair mauve to match the object of Arthur Weasley's obsession. "I don't like it that much. But Uncle Arthur showed me how to feed it! You have to touch these things on the top and bottom of the egg! And then it becomes pink and then it becomes blue." As he spoke, he let the tips of his hair turn both colors. "But most of the time, it's lighty purple. Like me."
Amused, Ron ruffled the boy's hair. "Indeed it is, little man. Now, how about a game of pickup Quidditch?"
And the boy jumped off his chair into the grass. But he didn't run towards the Quidditch pitch. Instead he ran inside, towards the slightly ajar kitchen door. "I have to help Uncle Arthur take care of it!"
The second time Ron mentioned The Thing was a busy Sunday afternoon. He and Percy were helping out at the joke shop, Percy in the back with the accounting, and Ron around the store, noise and color flying everywhere. "I swear—"
"Not in front of Mum, you don't!" George interrupted.
Ron ignored his brother and continued to place Skiving Snackboxes on the shelf. As always, the boxes came in every color - red for fever-inducing sweets, green for warts, black for fainting, to name a few - but today the light purple boxes stood out in a way they just hadn't before. "Maybe we should get Dad a dog or something. Or a cat. I think Mum would like a cat."
"I think," Percy interjected, several notebooks in each hand, "that Mum appreciates how after so many years her house is finally clean. Dad's found himself a nice, clean pet. Why does it bother you so much?"
"It doesn't bother me." Almost screaming to be heard over the din of children, he added, "And you do have to clean up after it! You can toilet train it, but I don't think Dad's done that yet."
Percy raised his eyebrows. "How do you know so much, Ron? I find the thing rather cryptic. How does one clean up after a mechanical muggle egg?"
"Yeah, Ronnie!" George gave him a shove, before taking the stack of books from Percy. "How do you know so much about it?"
Ron's ears went red.
The Thing couldn't have been bigger than a baby's fist, and it was most definitely not magical. But all the same, it had a strange allure.
Ron held it in his hands. Would it break? How flimsy were these Muggle things, anyway?
The mauve color was, he remembered, a similar shade to the set of dress robes he had bought Hermione that Christmas. It was actually a color he rather liked. The word Tamagotchi was written in red lettering just above the screen, under a small silver chain of beads.
Muggle children liked this thing. They pressed buttons to feed it and train it. Of course Arthur Weasley would like it too.
Ron pressed the middle button, and a pink light flashed. Despite what George and Percy had implied, he actually hadn't spent a ton of time with the machine before. He found it as cryptic as Percy did, his limited knowledge the small amount he had gleaned from his father's excited descriptions.
Press A and C to feed Ginevra.
Giggling, Ron pressed the top and bottom buttons. So, his father had named his Muggle egg pet after his sister?
Two of the small bars on the side of the screen increased.
You have made Ginevra happy.
Ron couldn't help but feel a small twinge of pride. Ginny was so busy nowadays; between pregnancy and Quidditch and the Prophet and the Ministry, even he and Hermione saw little of her and Harry.
Smiling sheepishly, Ron pressed A and C again.
"It really is fun, Molly!"
"Have some more chicken, Arthur, dear." His wife placed a crisped leg onto his plate. "I must say, I do prefer this to flying cars."
Teddy giggled. Ron and Harry exchanged sheepish grins. The Tale of the Flying Car was, to Hermione and Molly's joint disapproval and Arthur's absolute pleasure, Teddy's favorite story.
"I think it's sweet." Ginny ladled a third helping of potatoes onto her plate. She'd been craving potatoes ever since the start of her pregnancy. And Molly, delighted when her only daughter could finally make it to Friday dinner, was happy to oblige. "Fred should have them at the joke shop. Sure, they'd be cryptic at first. But I think the kids would love them. And dinner is delicious, Mum. I do wish the others could have made it though."
And indeed. The Burrow, once bustling with seven children at every corner, had started to feel big and empty. It was only Harry, Ron, Ginny, Teddy, and the parents tonight. Hermione had been held up at work, and George was at the joke shop, and Charlie and Bill and Fleur were abroad, and Percy was meeting some important someone…
You have made Ginevra happy.
Ron thought about that. For a long time, the Burrow had burst with happiness from every messy seam. And then terror, anger, hatred…
...and then, for so long, it had seemed happiness was something which would never come back. But slowly it had, in snatched moments and small things. Small like the screens of mechanical Muggle eggs.
"Dad. I'd like to play it with you, sometime."
Of course, eventually they all forgot about the Tamagotchi. James was born, and Hermione got promoted, and George married Angelina, and over the years the house became full again.
Ron found it years later. He was watching Rose and Hugo while cleaning out the back stockroom of the joke shop. It would have been dreary work, but the occasional explosion or rediscovered momento kept it interesting, especially given how interesting his children found everything about the shop.
He tossed a stack of Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-bang's into his bag, remembering his fifth year with a smile. Behind them was an old box of Canary Creams, the candies stale and hard. He vanished them, causing a small round object to fall onto the floor.
The first thing he noticed was the distinct mauve color, and it was that which made him remember the Tamagotchi. He shook it, then hit the buttons in no order, hoping to wake it up.
To his surprise, the screen flashed blue and pink.
Fred is hungry! Have you forgotten about Fred?
Ron gasped. How had that happened? Wasn't it Ginny? Wasn't it his father who had been obsessed with the toy? Had George had one of his own all that time?
"I'm at the shop. I'll miss Friday dinner." For a moment he saw it, Arthur Weasley telling his family about his new Muggle toy, while George sat in the joke shop, all alone, fingers on the light purple egg. Had that been it?
Without thinking, Ron pressed A and C.
You have made Fred happy.
He didn't cry. But he waved his wand and murmured "Evansco,"forever removing the egg from sight.