Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any related characters
A/N: Hi everyone, this is a little one shot I wrote as part of my flash back one shot series!
Mark Evans sat among the ruins of his once pristine living room. He rubbed his forehead wearily, as he heard his wife footsteps upstairs. The dull thud of her heels echoed throughout the silent house. This had become quite a regular occurence, but nothing as serious as this. Mark couldn't believe his eyes, when he saw a tawny owl swoop through the back kitchen window. The fine featured owl had a letter clutched in his grasp, with a fancy wax seal. His heart suddenly started to pound as the owl dropped the letter on the kitchen counter. He had not seen an owl in quite a long time. Not since his daughter, Lily was alive. Not since about a week before her death, when she sent him her final letter. The sight of the tawny creature was enough to cause Mark to faint, however, when the creature emitted a loud screech, he landed straight back to reality. To the reality of his destroyed house. He reached out with a shaky hand and took the letter, breaking the wax seal and opening it, trying to disregard how nervous he felt.
Dear Mr and Mrs Mark Evans,
The Ministry of Magic has been notified that under-age magic has been performed at your address. We would like to inform you that the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad will be at your residence shortly. They will repair the damage caused also they will modify the memory of your neighbour Mrs Marion Hubbard.
Hope you are well,
Arnold Peasegood.
Right around then, Mark realised he could never become equipped to deal with this situation at all. His daughter Lily died, leaving her three children to their only living relatives, Mark and his wife, Christine. Three children, that issue did not worry Mark in the slightest, he did, after all, have three children himself. He felt totally experienced in that area. The issue, however, was that Lily had been quite an accomplished witch, and her children could be nothing but magical. Christine gushed over having three magical grandchildren, but the reality was, that the accidental magic had become something of a hindrance.
It started off quite small. Harry would grab something from Faolán, then in retaliation Faolán would magically cause his brother to trip. Sometimes the brothers would hold one of Céilí's barbie dolls hostage, resulting in a lot of screaming and a lot of broken glasses and plates. It had definitely never been cause for the Ministry of Magic to get involved. It obviously made family outings into the muggle world rare as well as stressful, but until then it had never caused serious damage or injury.
"Mr Evans?"
Mark jumped as he turned to find a man standing in his living room. He wore long black robes with the Ministry of Magic logo on them. He had long dark hair which reached just below his chin and little black beady eyes. Mark barely had enough time to acknowledge the new arrival before a large green flame roared in the fireplace. Another man, wearing the same clothes stepped out. He was slightly shorter and stockier, and had bushy red hair. He appeared to be much younger, and Mark would hazard a guess that this young man was only in his early twenties. He carried a quill and a roll of parchment in his hand and seemed to be the older man's assistant.
"Just here to survey the damage, Mr Evans. I hope this is an alright time? We'll repair it all and be on our way." The first man smiled, while the second glanced around the room eagerly, as if this was incredibly exciting.
"Oh... Yes... Of course."
"Quit powerful magic." The second man observed.
"Sorry?"
"Your grandchildren... This is quite powerful magic for small kids."
Mark said nothing. He nodded a little before perching on the end of one of the couches. He had no idea whether this was powerful or not, nor did he give much thought about it. His possessions did not cause him to worry, mostly his thoughts drifted to the poor babysitter, Mrs Hubbard. The first man sat down next to him, so silently that when he spoke, Mark started.
"I wouldn't worry about this." He said quietly as the second man began taking notes. "I know it's a bit tough, but if you've got more than one magical child, they always use their magic to fight... It's completely normal. We get called out to muggle-born houses all the time! Jim here..." The man indicated to the red haired youngster taking notes. "He's really excited. He couldn't believe we were called out to clean up after Lily and James Potter's children."
Mark murmured a vague response, but didn't say anything more. He wasn't sure why that could be deemed so exciting, but he didn't particularly want to know. The men did their job, honestly a better job than Mark could have hoped for. Everything had been repaired perfectly, and you wouldn't have even known that everything had been broken just moments previously. Jim and his boss had ensured that an obliviator had taken care of Mrs Hubbard, and they went on their way.
Today had been without a doubt an absolute nightmare. Mark usually worked at the local newspaper everyday from Monday to Friday, while Christine normally stayed home. He was positive that out of the two of them, his wife had the tougher job, no doubt. However, that particular day, Christine took the day off to go shopping with their eldest daughter, Petunia, and left their grandchildren in the care of Mrs Marion Hubbard. She was quite a chubby woman who always wore thick knitted cardigans, and slip on shoes. Quite a lovely old lady, but her eye sight wasn't the best, and wouldn't notice that Harry didn't have to physically touch Faolán to knock him over. It seemed to be an excellent match, as magic would largely go unnoticed. In addition two four year olds, and one five year old couldn't possibly perform any serious magic.
Mrs Hubbard came as usual, just before lunch while the children were eating in front of the television. Christine threw on her coat just as the doorbell rang and hurried on ot to Petunia's car. Mrs Hubbard usually came by with a bag of sweets each, and while she began clearing their plates, she handed one to each of them. Céilí sat on the couch alone, slowly working through hers, while the boys remained on the floor. Harry frowned slightly as his tiny fingers fished through the remaining sweets, after he had stuffed his favourites in his mouth. Faolán also doing something similar, however, he removed his least favourites and placed them on the floor beside the remote control.
"You got more fizzy bottles than me!" Harry cried indignantly, as he caught sight of his brother.
"You ate all yours already" Faolán replied in a somewhat annoyed tone of voice, as Harry clearly had a mouth full of fizzy bottles.
"Here, let me have a few more." Harry reached forward quickly, and snatched the white, plastic bag from Faolán's grasp.
"No! I didn't even get one yet!" Faolán yelled as loudly as his lungs would allow, in an attempt to draw Mrs Hubbard's attention to them.
Céilí watched from her position on the couch. Of course, she knew of Harry's fascination with the fizzy cola bottles. This happened every time Mrs Hubbard came over. She was just clever enough to store her sugary sweets in her skirt pocket, so Harry had no opportunity to steal them.
"Just one!" Harry insisted and he tried to run from Faolán. Just as he tried to get away, numerous cushions flew off the opposite couch, hitting Harry squarely in the head. Both bags of sweets flew in the air while jelly babies and fried eggs landed in all corners of the living room.
Céilí watched with wide eyes, as she stuffed her bag down the side of the couch. She'd have to come back for them later. Harry rushed at Faolán knocking him backwards, narrowly avoiding hitting his head off the coffee table. In a split second, the TV guide flew off the table and began thumping Harry over the head.
"Stop! What are you doing?"
It was then that Mrs Hubbard ran in, her hands still wet and soapy from doing the dishes. "What is this mess? I've been here about fifteen minutes and you're already fighting-"
"Harry started it!" Faolán said as his eyes flashed in anger towards Harry.
"Stop hitting me!" Harry had grabbed on to the TV guide and attempted desperately to try hold it still. However, every so often it would hit him on the head, and to a muggle like Mrs Hubbard it looked as if Harry was hitting himself.
"He's not touching you! You're hitting yourself!" Mrs Hubbard cried in frustration. "I gave you too much sugar, I think. And see! You threw them all over the living room! When you're grandparents see this, you'll be in big trouble!"
With a loud scream from Harry the TV guide suddenly flung itself across the room at Faolán. It slapped him hard in the face, before he managed to reach out and grab it. He attempted to hold it at arms length, but failed miserably.
"Stop hitting me!" Faolán shrieked at the TV guide, while Harry roared with laughter.
Mrs Hubbard shook her head, believing the boys were attempting to make a fool out of her. "It'll be me that'll be hitting you in a minute if you don't stop."
Harry backed up to the fireplace, gleeful expression still etched on his face. While Faolan tried to maintain control over the magazine, a tiny owl ornament fell off the mantle piece, hitting Harry in the back of the head. He emitted a loud bawl, before the porcelain owl dropped on the grate with an ear piercing crash.
"Harry, stay away from that fireplace. You'll destroy everything. Faolán stop hitting yourself." Mrs Hubbard made a dash for Harry to pull him away, but he acted too quick and hopped to the side. A second, larger ornamental owl fell, but this time it was Mrs Hubbard that screamed. She fell to her knees in front of the fire while Harry quickly began to make excuses.
"I didn't touch it!"
"Of course you did you little liar!" Mrs Hubbard moaned. She attempted to push all the bits of porcelain to one side, but without a brush it was difficult. "You were standing right there! You must have put it too close to the edge and it fell. Wait until I tell your grandmother..."
Faolán had managed to get the TV guide under control and trapped it under his left foot. It flapped helplessly around trying to find something to attack. He stuck out his tongue at Harry, who continued to scowl after being scolded.
An intense wail from Céilí caused Mrs Hubbard to turn around at the exact moment that the large glass cabinet, holding numerous amount of ornaments and photo frames began to tip over. As if both it's front legs had been cut off, it began to fall forward. The creaking cabinet began to lean over just where Faolán was standing, and the large Mrs Hubbard bounded forward to try grab hold of it. Before she managed to reach it, the glass cabinet stopped, all photo frames and trinkets smacked against the glass doors, but nothing broke.
Mrs Hubbard stood in the centre of the living room with her mouth agape, staring at the cabinet which was leaning forward, seemingly unsupported. She ushered to Faolán who stood underneath it, peering up at it, half surprised, half smug.
"We need to get you all to the kitchen, quick." Mrs Hubbard said urgently. The colour had drained from the poor woman's face, as she eyed the glass cabinet as if it was satan himself. She grabbed at Céilí's wrist and pulled her off the couch, indicating for the boys to follow her. She turned for a split second to exit through the door, when the cabinet finally managed to fall. Faolán had backed away, and allowed gravity to do it's work. The glass clearly smashed, along with any ornaments inside.
"Faolán! Are you hurt?" Mrs Hubbard waddled forward and grabbed the youngest boy by the shoulders and gave him a quick inspection.
"Of course. Harry needs to be quicker if he's going to try that again."
Mrs Hubbard stared at him, then peered over her shoulder at Harry who stood by the coffee table, looking the picture of innocence. He rubbed the back of his head where the porcelain owl had hit him hard.
"I think you must have hit your head sweetheart, Harry was over by the...Aaahhh!"
The book case beside the television suddenly managed to unhinge itself from the wall. Harry however, didn't act as quick as Faolán and didn't have enough time to react other than to jump out of the way. The bookshelf landed with a deafening bang on top of the coffee table, breaking both of it's legs. Books continued to tumble from the shelf as Mrs Hubbard looked on. She appeared to have lost the ability to scream. She shook intensely from head to toe, and she looked as if she might faint at any moment.
"I only wanted one fizzy bottle!" Harry said through gritted teeth as he lunged at Faolán, both landing on the end of the long curtains, snapping them from their hooks.
Mrs Hubbard seemed to come to her senses as she grabbed both boys by their collars and began to drag them towards the door. She escorted them out into the hall, with Céilí trailing along behind. "Now, all of you, you can cool off in here." She wrenched open the door to the downstairs loo and pushed them all roughly in. She took the key from inside the lock before shutting the door on them, and locking it from the outside. For added security she pocketed the bathroom key, as these kids seemed capable of terrible things. "I need to call your grandmother before you do any more damage."
The Potter children remained in the downstairs loo for about forty minutes before they could hear their grandmother rush through the front door. Mrs Hubbard sat amongst the ruins of the living room, sobbing. Petunia Dursley, followed her mother inside, shutting the front door swiftly behind her, so as not to let any more neighbour's in on their little secret
"What happened? Oh my!" Christine gasped as she entered her living room. Petunia poked her head around her mother, observing the current state of the room with a disgusted expression on her face. She had never cared much for Lily's choice of lifestyle, and this was just proof that her little sister made some huge mistakes. The beautiful curtains were half hanging off the windows. Christine's antique, glass cabinet was smashed into the carpet, so she couldn't tell what damage had been caused to the contents. The cushions were flung everywhere, her owl ornaments from Lily were smashed along the floor of the fireplace and their large bookshelf lay across their poor little coffee table. "I suppose I don't need to ask..." Christine muttered as she took in her surroundings.
"Those kids. Awful bunch of little brats so they are." Mrs Hubbard sobbed.
"How did it get so out of control?"
"Those two..." Mrs Hubbard wept. Christine didn't have to even ask which two. It was obvious who could have caused this amount of damage.
"When they start fighting you have to separate them straight away! We've told you countless times!" Christine admitted desperately. It was the only fool proof way to limit property damage and injury.
"What they did... It wasn't fighting... It was unnatural..."
Christine pursed her lips, but didn't say anything more. Poor Mrs Hubbard had been traumatised, and there was nothing she could do to explain it away. Petunia sent her mother a look that clearly suggested this was only to be expected.
"Dear, please take Mrs Hubbard home. She seems to be in shock." Christine said in an undertone as she gently patted her daughters arm. "Mrs Hubbard, where have the kids gone?"
"Locked them in the loo." Mrs Hubbard hiccuped as he handed over the key. Petunia smirked a little, as she looped arms with the old woman, in an attempt to lead her home.
As the front door shut behind them, Christine made her way to the bathroom, key in hand. "Locked them in the loo." She mimicked angrily. "How dare she."
As the door creaked open, little Céilí rushed out first, tears streaming down her face. She flung her arms around her grandmother's hips and began crying into her naval. Christine placed a gentle hand on her granddaughters head and softly stroked her hair. The boy's however, did not shed one tear. A look of guilt was etched on each of their faces.
"I guess we won't be inviting Mrs Hubbard over any time soon." Christine said wearily over Céilí's loud wailing.