4 June 2009

"Harry, James, come in, come in…" Molly's concerned voice floated about the Burrow's fireplace, as she hurriedly ushered her son-in-law and five-year-old grandson into the threshold. Bestowing the latter a beatific smile, she picked him up and engulfed him in a warm hug. "Would you like a cup of tea, Harry? Some biscuits? I just made a batch—"

"No, Molly, I can't stay," Harry smiled ruefully. "I don't want to leave Ginny alone with the kids. She's in a right state as it is."

"Albus and Lily are still terribly ill, then?" Molly inquired anxiously, swinging James back onto to the ground, much to his delight.

"Well, they're both running high temperatures," Harry sighed wearily, running a hand through his hair before sauntering back towards the fireplace. "We're taking them to St. Mungo's today to make sure it isn't anything serious. I just heard from Audrey that both of Zacharias's—her cousin's—kids have come down with Dragon Pox."

"Yes, best be off to St. Mungo's, then," Molly nodded, following Harry back towards the fireplace, an increasingly restless James still clutching her hand.

"Thanks for taking this little devil in for the night," Harry nodded towards James, scooping up a handful of Floo powder from flowerpot on the mantelpiece. "Merlin knows the last thing we need right now is another sick kid in the house. Andromeda Flooed in this morning to let us know that Teddy's feeling under the weather, as well." Harry shook his head tiredly, turning to his son. "James, be good—and don't break anything, all right?"

James, however, wasn't paying the slightest attention to his father. Instead, he was gazing fixedly at the Burrow's glass backdoor—towards the small pond in the yard—with a sort of maniacal interest.

Molly chuckled softly. "I'm sure he won't be any trouble, Harry, dear. You take care, now."

With a weak smile and a blaze of green, Harry vanished into the fireplace. Molly stared at the spot where he had disappeared for a fleeting moment, lips pursed worriedly, before she turned to her grandson, beaming.

"What would you like to do today, sweet boy?" she asked warmly, ruffling the boy's unruly black hair, as she strolled towards the kitchen, securing the knot of her apron firmly at her back. James tottered after her, his gaze still lingering in the direction of the Burrow's backdoor.

"Gran, can we swim in that pond?" James wanted to know, as he climbed into a seat at the dining table.

"Pond?" she asked distractedly, frowning around at her kitchen counter, before approaching the various cupboards, tugging them open, one after the other.

"The pond, Gran," James repeated impatiently, flinging a finger out towards the back door.

"Hmm?" Molly looked up from behind a cupboard, squinting in the direction of James's outstretched finger. "What about the pond, dear?"

"Can I go swimming in it?" James asked excitedly.

Molly laughed, turning back to the cupboard. Frowning, she began rummaging through it diligently. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Jamie. The pond's not very clean."

There was a pause as James contemplated this, brows furrowing and chin plopping down to his palms. He turned towards the backdoor once again, ogling wistfully out towards the muddy pond. As he watched, a toad leaped up from the water, and onto a nearby rock.

James's eyes widened in surprise. He jumped out of his seat, darted over to the door, and pressed his face up against the glass. "Gran! Gran—Gran, did you see that?"

"What in the world has happened to all of those biscuits I baked?" Molly muttered under her breath, grimacing at the contents of a cupboard before slamming it shut and wrenching open the one next to it. Releasing sigh of frustration, Molly slammed the other cupboard closed, as well, and brushed her hair out of her face. Straightening, she looked around for her grandson, who was still standing with his face leveled against the kitchen door. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"There's a toad in the pond!" James shrieked, clapping his hands together with glee.

And before Molly could so much as comprehend what he had said, James flung the door open and set off towards the pond, paying no heed to the vast quantities of mud from the damp, overgrown grass that flew up towards him from under each step he took.

Molly froze, staring in astonishment, as James scurried off, closer and closer to the pond. In an instant, James had ricocheted onto a visibly slippery rock, steadying himself only slightly before leaning dangerously over the water. And then, Molly was off as well, hurrying towards James, screaming for him to get down.

"James," Molly panted, her voice uncharacteristically shrill. "James—no! Get down this instant!"

But James did not defer to his grandmother's orders. Instead, he bounded up three more rocks, towards the large toad settled stoutly on the fourth.

"James!" Molly cried desperately. "James, stop right there! Don't go any further!"

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to both Molly and James, Arthur Weasley had exited the nearby garden shed, a nearly empty jar of freshly baked cinnamon biscuits tucked under his left arm and the battered, old family camera—which he had been tinkering with—tucked under his right. Popping a biscuit into his mouth, Arthur lifted the camera up to his eyes, focusing it distractedly.

Molly ran helplessly out towards the rocks surrounding her pond, unsteadily ascending the first one. Reaching an arm out in vain towards her grandson, she called once more, "James, that's enough! Get down!"

James screwed up his eyes in immense concentration as he bent towards the fat toad, his fingers a mere inch away. Mud was smeared and splattered all over his face, and yet, he was grinning hugely, plainly delighted with himself.

Then, several things seemed to happen at once. Arthur pressed down on the circular button, smiling with satisfaction as the camera's shutter snapped with a resounding click. The toad, caught off guard, surged suddenly back into the pond. And James staggered and stumbled backwards in bewilderment, managing to fall precisely into his grandmother's outstretched arms.

Author's Note:

Hello my lovelies! Welcome to a quick little project I'm working on, a two-shot I'm writing for Morning Lilies's "Photo Album" Competition. So the point of this competition: well, ML gave me a brief description of a photograph, and I had to elaborate to make a story. Here is the description I was given:

"James crouches beside the pond in the Burrow's back garden, splattered in mud and grinning toothily as he attempts to grab a fat toad sitting fearlessly on a rock not far away."

The next chapter will be centered around another photograph description (and will be posted very soon, so stay tuned).

Ari