Disc.- I don't own Harry Potter!
This Story...- So, the summary said it pretty nicely. This does not take the epilogue-kids into account because- well, I didn't like it. So none of the children are canon. Ron and Hermione's daughter- Annalee, Ginny's son- Prosper, Dean's son- Ariel, Zabini's daughter- Peony, Malfoy's daughter- Cassiopeia.
XXXXXXXX
Ron sighed deeply, holding Hermione closely. "Was it right, Ron?", she whispered, turning to press her face into his shoulder. He dragged his fingers through her frizzy locks.
"Harry will protect her. And when everything is over...We'll be together again.", he smiled down at her, pulling her up for a gentle kiss. She sniffled, tucking herself into his embrace. "Anna will be fine...", though he worried about his bestmate. He'd been becoming more and more despondent. The most emotion he'd shown recently was awed joy when they named him godfather of their child. Otherwise, it was all grave alertness and solemnity. So when he told them that he was leaving Britain, and subsequently the war after telling them all he knew about it- including the horcruxes- they'd decided it would be best if he took little Annalee. For her safety and his. And it would give him a reason to come back after the war.
Even if it was to their graves.
xXx
Ginny bit her nails, taking deep shuddering breaths. It wasn't that she- hated the child, she wouldn't have gone through with the pregnancy if that were the case but he looked- there was almost no way-
Harry was the only one she'd told. Both about what happened and the resulting pregnancy. The child had the Weasley complexion, she could already tell, but the tuft of black hair and the nose different from her own or her brothers almost made her retch. If only it'd been born with red hair- maybe then she wouldn't shy away from the mere thought of-
It'd be safer with Harry. She knew he was already taking Ron and Hermione's and Dean's too, though she was sure that her brother and his fiance didn't know about the dark-skinned Gryffindor. But Harry had told her. Her ex-boyfriend had apparently been with an older Ravenclaw girl, wouldn't say who. Then he was suddenly laden down with a baby when she was pulled out of Hogwarts. And there was no way Dean was going to raise a baby by himself when he was in the midst of a war. So Harry took over care of that baby too. That made three. She took another deep breath, worrying over the young man she'd come to see as her confidant and one of her closest friends.
xXx
Lady Vittoria Zabini looked out at the vineyard below, her main hobby and pastime as her most recent husband, a handsome young Frenchman, pressed soft, teasing little kisses up her neck.
"What are you thinking, mon biche?", he murmured with a smile. She glanced at him with golden-hazel eyes, her mocha skin smooth and satin to the touch. Beauty favored her through age, her charms and suave unbroken.
"Nothing, bello mio.", she told him with a purr, skipping her fingers lightly across his bare shoulders. A sudden rap at the door made the two pause. On of the ornate double-doors opened to reveal her only darling child, Blaise. His eyes mirrored her own, and he was just as handsome as she was beautiful.
"Mother."
"Yes, dolce coure?", she turned, her hubby taking the hint somewhat sulkily as he slid away to the baths. Blaise watched him through narrowed eyes until he was sure the man was gone.
"Had there been any...Guests, recently?"
"Oh? Have you invited your English friends?", she inquired politely, turning back to survey her gardens, feeling the slight breeze play with the spider-silk house-robe she was wearing.
"No, mother. Has there been no one?"
"None for you, m'dear.", she teased playfully but he didn't soften. She knew her son was often as refined and smooth as she was, but he was really quite cold. 'All the more reason to keep her from him.', she thought gravely. His eyes narrowed again, she could feel it, but she remained impassive. Her granddaughter would not be left with him if she could help it. Besides, from what she could gather (which was quite a lot), Potter was already taking in other babes before he left Britain and her son would never suspect she'd had contact with the little English boy. He knew she had no love for England or its Ministry.
xXx
Pansy sniffled, wiping her eyes. She still couldn't believe Draco had done that to her. Her, she who loved him since they were children. When he'd made the announcement, quite blithely, that he was contracted to Astoria Greengrass, he'd broken many hearts. Hers being one of them. He'd apparently known since he was twelve. But Draco had done more than simply stealing hearts- he stole into beds just as much. And she was so ashamed that she gladly invited him to hers. That she had become pregnant was nothing. She didn't tell him, no, but she couldn't keep it either. She was unwed- and no one would want a contract with her if they learnt she had already had a child. Not to mention how her family would respond. She was only lucky that no one had caught on or asked about the glamors she used, most simply assuming she was gaining a bit of weight with the news of Draco's contract and that she was trying to cover it up.
So, she gave the tiny thing to Potter. She kept her ears close to the ground, heard everything in the grapevine there was to hear. Including that he may or may not be leaving Britain soon with his goddaughter. An Oath later, and her own daughter was gone. She didn't like Potter- didn't think he was very smart or responsible, but she knew he'd protect children with the best he had.
And the best he had was helluva lot more than she could get from anyone else.
xXx
He hummed gently, staring into the vial boredly. Before tipping it back and barely gagging on the foul taste. The five babes were safe and sound asleep, a bit of honey in their dinner making them even sleepier and less likely to fuss. He fell back on his small bed with a sigh. By morning he would be a she. It would certainly make hiding easier- even if the potion was kind of illegal. Hermione was such a good friend. He turned his head, looking at the transfigured cribs. Five of them. He now had five children. Four of them unnamed. He sighed, running a hand down his face. Well they'd need names, of course.
"Dobby!", he called and the little excitable elf popped in quietly, well aware that his idol had more volatile company. "I have five babies.", and oh, didn't that feel odd to hear from his own mouth? "Four of those babies don't have names. Any suggestions?", he turned to look at the elf that was practically vibrating and staring at him in awe.
"Harry Potters sirs is asking Dobby? Oh, Dobby will not let Mr. Harry Potter sir down!", he whispered excitedly, cracking gently away and leaving the sixteen year-old confused. He came back not a minute later, several very large looking books tumbling next to Harry on the small bed. He startled, leaning closer to read the titles. They were baby naming books. Mostly Pureblood.
"Oh, wow...", his eyebrows rose as Dobby smiled at him proudly. "Well then. Care to help me find some names?"
He needed one for himself too. He already had a surname- a line related loosely to the Potters, and his accounts were already transferred to their Vaults. It was an estranged line, and the last ones had died some time ago, but closely enough that his new female self could be their daughter and isolated enough for her to claim it without too much suspicion. But he needed a first and middle name. He'd prefer it be a flower name.
Soon they were hunched over, murmuring names back and forth, Harry occasionally getting up to check on the children and shift them if they looked uncomfortable. They were writing potential names down on a parchment.
"Oi, d'you think we should name Malfoy's kid in the Black family tradition?", he wasn't saying it for the blond prat's sake- he said it for Sirius. Dobby blinked his wide green eyes back at him before grinning, pulling another book closer and flipping through quickly to find his page before showing it to the boy. He squinted at the page before smiling at the elf. "Lovely!", he scribbled a few down.
xXx
Witch and elf stood contemplating the babies. Three were feasting on milk, one was napping again and the other was occupied with a dummy in his pram. When she'd woken that morning, she expected the slight dizziness, aching and disorientation, and she was still dressed in baggy clothes. She might've been a mite more preoccupied with her own changes and body had she not had more important things to take care of. She picked up one of the parchments. "Right. Let's start with...", she eyed the children, "That one!", she pointed to the dark-skinned little boy, Dean's son.
Dobby nodded, determined.
The duo stepped closer, peering down at the baby that looked up at them from where he was sucking on down his breakfast hungrily. "Sebastian?", she asked, reaching down with nimble fingers to stroke one finger down a chubby little cheek. He was almost five months old, the second oldest of the tiny little babes, with her godchild as oldest at seven months. Dobby made a face a the suggested name and she nodded. "Yeah, didn't feel right. Charles? Nathaniel? James? Jaime? No no, those aren't right...", the two exchanged a glance before looking again at their list of names, glancing every so often at the other little bodies to make sure they were occupied and taking a break to begin burping. Thank goodness Hermione had forced those parenting books on her- Charms for the New Parents, Magical Care for A Magical Baby, and the ever fun Practical Charms and Potions Baby Edition. No need for her to manually change nappies that way, or for her to worry about baby-barf stains. Alongside a host of other things to ease the way.
"Zane?"
"Zane? Nuh-uh.", she shook her head skeptically. "What else do we have?", she asked as she gently bounced her giggly goddaughter on one hip.
"Porter, Mathias, Virgil, Francis, Caelum, Ariel-"
"Wait! Ariel? Ariel...Ariel, Ariel, Ariel,", she tasted thoughtfully, setting the redhead little girl back into her cot to pick up Dean's boy. "Ariel.", she said sternly and watched the baby kick with a loud, cute giggle. She smiled, holding him closer. "I think we found his name. And his middle name will be..."
"Jaime?", she clicked her fingers with a grin, pointing at him.
"Yes! Perfect! Alright, one name down, three to go.", as all of them would be sharing her new surname.
xXx
The other three names varied in difficulty. Parkinson's daughter (it was easier to think of the little girl as Parkinson's, even with the platinum blond wisps of hair) was pretty easy for example- Cassiopeia Evette. Ginny's son was a bit more difficult, taking almost two days to settle on Prosper Blythe before finally moving onto the girl given to her by the Lady Zabini. But it was eventually settled- Peony Euphemia. She rather liked that name- it sounded so pretty and perfect for a girl. Dainty.
A hefty sum to the Goblins that barely made a dent in the heavy gold she owned, a spot or two of blood and some strong glory-flinging (Goblins loved themselves a gloriously dangerous tale and she had plenty- the Council she had seen had particularly enjoyed the Basilisk fight from her shared memories) ensured that Lady Lily Miriam Zephyrus was legal guardian and mother to Annalee, Ariel, Peony, Cassiopeia and Prosper Zephyrus. Not by birth, maybe, but by magic and law. She sighed deeply after she got home from that particular meeting. She peeled off the highly formal robes she had just bought earlier for the event, sending the rest of her new female robes and assorted clothing essentials home with Dobby. But her day wasn't up. They needed to get out of England, get to the Zephyrus Chateau and then she needed to go through dozens and dozens of catalogs, ordering new things for the whole of their new little family- which she'll have help with from Dobby and several other elves she learned were in the Potter name. She was glad she had collected the trunks from her Vaults, along with a number of other useful things. She had a very busy day, and she had a feeling that it would be like that for a very long time.
xXx
"Mumma! Mumma look!", the green eyed young woman turned to see the chocolate complexioned little girl skip closer, a bright smile on her pretty little face and cupping her hands together. She opened the pocket she made and the woman smiled fondly. Peony had been helping her in the personal gardens (the formal ones sprawling the grounds tended to fiercely by the elves) for years now and had her own little spot where she grew lilies. She had brought one of the flowers over to her.
"Is that for me, little flower?", she teased, running her fingers through the girl's thick curls affectionately. The girl nodded shyly. Out of all five of her children, Peony was definitely the one who stayed closest. Mummy's little flower. "It's beautiful,", she nuzzled noses with the five year-old as she giggled, honey-gold eyes loving. She took the flower gently, a preservation charm soon keeping it pristine. She kept all the flowers her children gave to her, and had a separate vase for each child. Peony's was near overflowing by now. She pressed a kiss against her temple, hugging her gently. "Well, it's about lunch time, and I'm sure your brothers and sisters are waiting.", she stood, brushing off the casual summer dress she wore. France had beautiful climates, and she was glad to have chosen this particular estate to stay in. Though it had more to do with the Unplottable aspects and hidden hiding places than anything. France was firmly not part of the war going on, though took in plenty of refugees before shutting down the Magical immigrant system from Britain and the surrounding area.
She sighed breezily, shoving it from her mind. She knew, before she left, her friends were worried about her increasing apathy and desolation. She could still be rather distant at times, but the kids rambunctious energy usually pulled her from it. She slipped her hand over the small trusting one, leading her back into the large winding chateau.
xXx
The elegant, lovely Lady Zephyrus was well liked by the community, a small little village in the country side of mostly Purebloods and Halfbloods. She was a small, slim woman with who wore muggle dresses and with delicate pretty collarbones and a pretty neck. She had lightly tanned skin, from working in her gardens, residents well knew, and kind green eyes, even if they could be a bit vacant sometimes. She was lofty and generous, patient. And she took care of five children. Sometimes, when the illustrious Lady would decide to go out with them, they would get to see the loving interaction between them, mother and her children. Of course people wondered about where they all came from, but most assumed she took in a few orphans- after all, they'd all heard how the poor thing was stuck in some muggle orphanage in England when her parents were killed in a skirmish during their brief stay and only just found her way home.
Yes, the folks of Pavot, a small muggle-free place known for their poppies, weren't too fond of the English.
But they were an easygoing village, honest and simple enough and accepted Lady Zephyrus kindly, if not warmly. That she insisted on buying from their shops in large quantities and kept them prosperous may have helped.
It was a warm day, sunny and beautiful and perfect, with fluffy clouds and a gentle breeze that everyone enjoyed, and one of the best days for the Zephyrus family to come down. The cheerful play of children soon drew other village children to play as the beautiful fae-like Lily smiled down as they played childish, fun games. Her dress was long and light, the thin straps made of lace and she wore a large floppy hat with a ribbon in a soft yellow color that matched her dress.
"Madam!", the call made her look to see an older woman waving at her. She raised her hand, going closer. The children would be fine left alone here.
Lily liked it here- this was her home. These people were her friends and neighbors, even if she lived a bit off from the village itself. Not even a hundred people lived in her little sanctuary. She had pointless, cheerful chitchat, she knew who Silvia Adelard's son was marrying, knew when Claude Galehot's youngest will be born, that little Abelle Eudo would be getting a new tutor because no one really left the community come the next year instead of going to a school. It was nice. It was domestic. It was peaceful.
That wasn't to say she had forgotten about what she'd gone through, her training that she kept up, her immaculate dueling skills. She remembered, and she worked hard, but she relaxed and enjoyed just as much. She raised her children. She occasionally sent letters through Gringotts when Ron or Hermione could manage to get to the bank. Sometimes, she would feel guilt eat at her. She'd feel like a coward. A weakling. But her friends never thought her such, and she had a purpose- protect her sweet children. It wasn't just about her, she'd remind herself. She didn't simply flounce off to simply spend the rest of her life doing whatever she pleased, living her life lavishly.
She still kept up with the war. Indeed, Europe as a whole always had something to say about it, even if it was just a little side story- they'd tell the truth while rags like The Prophet were Ministry controlled. Some of it made her feel sick, the new 'regulations' and laws being passed. But then Dobby or Hinki would pop in to tell her about one of the kids doing something.
Soon enough midday was approaching and there was a small festival- simply because they could have one. It happened almost every month or so and it felt so wonderful being part of it all. Playing and games and drinks, and laughter, so much of it. When people finally began heading home, rays of the sun began to come once again.
xXx
"Muuuuum!", Ariel whined, "Lee took my sugar-quills again!"
"I did not!", the ginger shouted from the hall, coming in after the boy and sending him a dark glare. Lily smiled down at them amusedly. Annalee and Ariel were the two who quarreled the most, mostly filching things from one another and mini-attacks and pranks. Lee's sweet doe-brown eyes, just like Hermione's, looked up at her pleadingly. "Mum, I didn't! Really!"
"Of course, bombarda.", as she was fond of calling the little firecracker. She had her father's quick temper, with her mother's ability to hold a grudge, and her Aunt Gin's vicious streak. But then, Ariel was the prankster, often getting Prosper to help along- the two were thick as thieves and a lot like Fred and George. Speaking of the freckled black-haired boy, she wondered where he was. Where one was, the other usually wasn't far behind.
"What's all this, then?", as though beckoned by thought alone, Prosper peeked in with bright blue eyes.
"She stole my sugar-quills!", the curly-haired boy pointed accusingly at the redhead who was stubbornly holding onto their mother's dress. Lily was busy petting through the girl's frizzy red ringlets as she sniffled angrily. His spiky-haired brother and bestfriend laughed and went inside with them, plopping himself on one of the many mismatched but ridiculously comfortable couches. This was the lounge room- not the formal one, no, that one was fancy and strictly for visitors- this was the casual room.
"No she didn't, Cassie did.", Ariel gasped, dark eyes widening. Lee's eyes glared fiery hate at him.
"See!? I told you I didn't do it!", she spit and he sent her a sheepish look. Lily sighed, sitting back down as Lily climbed up to curl into her side petulantly.
"Oops.", he offered before running off with Prosper to find their blonde sister. Cassie was definitely the most competitive out of the five of them and when paired off, usually went with Lee, just as Ariel went with Prosper and Peony stuck to her. Combine Cassie's competitive, in-your-face attitude and Lee's short fuse and sense of vengeance, those two weren't a team to cross. And with Ariel and Prosper, the two were sneaky and sly, kind of vindictive but not vicious like their two sisters could sometimes be. Peony was her sweet little flower though, the good girl. She was sweet and bright, loyal to the family as a whole. She glanced down at her goddaughter/daughter. Ron's sweet doe-shaped eyes with Hermione's warm color and her cute nose with her father's easy grin.
"Hey mum?", she blinked, looking down at her. "Can I have a pet?"
xXx
Draco sneered, glaring down at his once most devoted follower. Pansy stared back coldly. She had a contract to a handsome older man now and would be marrying in only two months. "Finally decide to look at the family tree?", she asked and almost physically felt the words stab into him, making him angrier. It pleased her in a grim way.
"What did you do with it?", he hissed, wand pressing up against her slender neck. "Its face is blurry and there's no name!"
"Looks like I left my child in the right hands then."
The twenty-five year old sneered darkly, getting closer and crowding her. "Parkinson.", he growled but his intimidation tactics had no effect as she easily pushed his looming frame away with a scowl of distaste.
"Summersby soon, Malfoy.", when in school, he'd been four years above her. He bared his teeth savagely. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a luncheon to plan with my mother-in-law.", she turned from him but his harsh grip on her arm made her whirl, landing a sharp, stinging slap on his porcelain pale face. He let go of her in shock and she sent him a malicious, feral look. "Stay away from me, and stay away from my daughter,", it was a dark snarl before she stalked off.
Draco stood silently for a few moments, silvery eyes gleaming. A daughter, was it?
xXx
Ron scrubbed his face quickly, glancing around shiftily. They- he, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, had been destroying horcruxes. They only needed Nagini dead and then they could kill the bastard and get their bestfriend and daughter back. Sometimes that was the only thing that kept him going. His daughter and his bestfriend. Sometimes he- or, she wrote. She didn't write any names, and it was all in riddles, but she wrote. None of them knew where she was, but that was alright. Better, even, if one of them happened to get captured. Not if she chose a new name (which she most assuredly has), not if she changed her appearance (which was likely), nothing other than he is now a she and she moved away. For all they knew, she might be in the muggle world somewhere. Who knew? No one besides her.
He slipped back into the tent they had set up, ignoring the sight of his little sister cuddled up to Neville. He didn't think the two were really that into eachother- they were just available when no one else was. But Hermione told him to keep that tidbit to themselves- apparently blurting that out was socially unacceptable and they couldn't afford unnecessary tensions between them.
Merlin, how he wished Harry were here...
xXx
The Dark Lord was growing increasingly angry- which wasn't to say he wasn't in his usual perpetual state of displeasure, just that he was becoming more manic. Harry Potter still remained elusive, the link he had discovered with the boy shielded fiercely now. He still attacked, and did so with lethal force but the barrier remained. Worse, his horcruxes were being hunted. He'd been searching for them only to find them gone. When he tried to feel them out, the only one that responded was Nagini and the faint feel of some other one. So he kept Nagini with him at all times. He snarled in the middle of one man's report, crucioing him until he stopped flailing and his voice went hoarse.
He'd been dwindling his number of followers that way, but what difference would it make? He'd already practically won the war- the Ministry was under Malfoy and therefore his control, Snape was Headmaster with his more trusted followers teaching the little brats and no one dared defy him now that the majority of the old man's little ragtag group were either dead, in hiding or simply bowed out of it, falling into the sea of sheep to avoid conflict with the growing number of Death Eaters. Soon he could begin moving onto the rest of Europe.
But he needed Potter dead.
And to do that, he needed him found.
xXx
Dorian Summersby hummed as he watched his soon-to-be wife, sitting with his and her fathers. "She does have quite the venom for the Malfoy boy, doesn't she?", he asked passively. He'd known her to be clingy with the snot-nosed blond, and quite annoying at that. However, when he met her not two years ago, she was different. She was the picture of a Pureblood Lady- educated, well-mannered, elegant and a fierce dueler.
"She was upset when the news of his contract came out.", her father told him blithely. "Her mother's fault- I had told her not to try and negotiate a contract with them. Never did like the prissy lot."
"Completely understandable. Nothing but cowards.", his father snorted. "Never took part in any of the dirty work.", he spoke mostly of Lucius, and his reputation as a Death Eater. Indeed, their families were deeply entrenched, but they pillaged and fought for their Lord- unlike Malfoy, who sat and looked pretty. "And the Lady of the line! 'Tis a shame Andromeda had married that muggleborn, since Narcissa was such a disappointment. She was the one originally set to marry the blond prat."
"Would've done his family good to have her- Abraxas was disgusted when he was given instead Narcissa for his son."
Dorian listened halfheartedly. Such gossips, their parents were. His mother and Lady Parkinson were with his younger bride across the way, in their line of sight but just barely. Despite himself, he was looking forward to consummating their contract- Pansy was a fairly pretty young woman with her mother's petite frame and really the only thing that seemed slightly out of place was her slightly blunt nose. But even that looked sort of...Cute. He wondered idly if he was falling in love with her. He shrugged to himself. No matter- they would be married soon and if it was love he felt for her, so be it. He knew her favorite designer, her favorite dessert, her most hidden pet peeve, the difference between her polite smile and her courteous smile, and her somewhat dark sense of humor that she rarely let out.
"Your daughter is quite charming.", he told her father abruptly. The two men blinked at his seemingly random statement but her father chuckled heartily.
"Yes, though few are around to see it.", he told him in amusement. He leaned back then. "You know, she once mentioned that she had a civil conversation with the Potter boy.", he told him musingly.
"As I recall, she despised that boy.", Dorian knew his eyebrows had climbed up as he said it.
"Indeed she did, as only schoolmates can. Though this apparent conversation happened after the news of the Greengrass' arrangement. Hmph. I heard Daphne, the bride's older sister, threatened to split from the family after the news, she hated the Malfoys so much.", back to gossip then. Dorian resolved to ask about her talk with Harry Potter. What would Pansy Parkinson have to talk about with Potter? Their mutual hatred of the Malfoys?
It might be fun to talk about- especially if her ire is stroked (which it almost always is when talking about the Malfoy son). He loved to see her dark eyes flash and the way her lips moved into a scowl. He felt dreamy just thinking about it.
He smiled languidly. Pansy would be a fine mother and a wondrous wife.
xXx
The weary man sighed deeply, amber eyes hooded as he stared down at his hands.
Remus wished he would've given Nymphadora a chance, those few years ago- maybe he would've grown to love her like she did him. Hell, maybe they would've started a family by now. She was a bright, vivacious woman who made her intent with him known. But he let his selfishness get in the way of that- trying to justify his distance with things that he knew didn't matter, purposely trying to scare her off, just to see if she would indeed scamper off and leave him. And then when she proved that she would not be deterred, he'd ran away with his tail between his legs.
Remus wished he would've interacted with Harry more- especially when Sirius died. He'd been so wrapped in his own grief, and he stayed away from the boy. Because he knew some part of him blamed the boy, and the sight of him made him want to throttle him. And he knew Sirius would never forgive him if he ever knew about that. He himself was ashamed once he finally managed to resurface. Now Harry was gone. His friends wouldn't tell him anything aside from he was well and away from this war. He wished he would've been able to say goodbye at least. To hug him.
Remus wished he would've been there for Sirius when he was imprisoned- at least asked about a fair trial. Instead he cast him out, even though he knew Peter was acting strange and had sent him an ominous, scattered letter about the Potters and an upcoming funeral or three. In hindsight, it was obvious, but with the war going on, he hadn't batted a lash at deaths. Merlin, he was awful.
There were many things Remus wished. And more he regretted. He sighed again, looking at the letter sitting unopened on his coffee table. It read Nymphadora Tonks in shiny pink- out of place in his shabby little apartment. He'd ignored all of her previous letters. But he was tired of constantly running and hiding and evading everything that made him nervous.
He picked it up.
xXx
Prosper knew his mum wasn't really his mum. Or any of their mum. They all knew that. She didn't need to tell them. But she was his mum in all the ways that mattered. So when one of the boys down in the village said something about her, was it really his fault they got into a fight? No, no it was not. But mum frowned when he explained his noble, gentlemanly actions. He was merely protecting mum's honor. The other boy got a fierce scolding (he and Ariel snickered at it, it was public humiliation for the boy), but their mum's persistent frown when they went home made him fidgety.
"Alright, go play now. Prosper and I are going to have a talk.", he glared when his sisters giggled. When they were gone, she knelt down, holding his hands gently. "Prosper.", she said softly.
"Yes, mum?", his voice was just as quiet and brimming with nervousness. The ten year-old was worried about what she would say, if he would get in trouble. Maybe hitting the boy with that hex wasn't the best course of action...
"As gallant your reasons, you shouldn't have started a fight about it.", she chided him and she was so very soft and nice about it that it just made him feel guilty. They almost never got in trouble- the fear of their mother's displeasure or worse- her disappointment- a good motive to behave. She let them have their prank-wars and retaliations, but that was all in good play and fun- even if a few painful hexes and jinxes were involved. Mostly on Lee and Cassie's side. He knew she got exasperated sometimes, but usually she was amused by their rivalry. She pulled him back to the current gently. Always gently. And if gentleness didn't work, then she'd hunker down and take away privileges, their tantrums and screaming easily tolerated and ignored. "Prosper, pay attention.", she frowned at him and he winced.
"Sorry, mum."
"Right.", she nodded, "No more toys for the rest of the week. You'll be helping Peony and me in the garden instead.", he opened his mouth to argue, but she silenced him with a look. "What have I told you before about your temper?"
Compared to Lee and Cassie, his own hotheadedness was often forgotten. He was a bit more difficult to rile, but he had certain lines. And insulting his mother was one of the worst to cross. While Cassie could volley back a worse insult, or Lee could simply snub them, choosing to ignore whoever it was, Ariel could grin and go on a 'Your mother...' binge, and Peony simply cried (both confusing the berk and attracting the attention of adults), Prosper's first instinct was to hurt whoever it was. As much as possible before they were interrupted.
"Prosper.", this time his name was tinged with exasperation. He looked up at her. He also had the tendency to drift off a bit. As she was well aware.
"That I should think about what you would do if someone insulted you."
And he'd only ever seen her insulted once, and that was when he was hiding and some man had tried to flirt with her. She rejected his advances and he called her foul things. She simply waited until he was done until asking, quite calmly, "Feel better?" before giving him the stare only a stern mother has. Her eyes sort of glowed though and there was something hidden that cowed the man into spitting out one more hasty insult before turning tail.
"Yes.", she said, pulling his head up to lock their gazes. She smiled at him. "Sweet as it was of you.", she teased and he felt a hesitant smile tilt his lips. "Now, go clean up. The tutors will be coming soon."
He groaned at that. They'd had tutors since they were seven, and they were often hard taskmasters- though when they'd complained and she'd taken over, they quickly retracted their whining, learning their mum could be a very demanding professor. He thinks she did it on purpose and her sweet smiles when he'd accused her of it only made him more sure of it.
xXx
She tilted her head, sighing gustily as she heard satisfying cracks and doing the same with the other side. Gardening took more out of her than it did as a child...Though that cold be because her new garden was so much bigger- and magical. She smiled, leaning back to sit on her heels as she looked up at the sky. It would likely rain soon. She stood up. "Peony, Prosper! C'mon. We're done for the day.", she called, a smile lighting up her face as two more little faces came up from different flower bushes.
So cute.
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So this is...Yeah, this is this. Not sure how else I should describe it. Do you like it? Because if you do...
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