Written For The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition as Chaser 1 For The Falmouth Falcons. My Prompts Were To Write About Lorcan And Lysander Scamander And My Optional Prompts Were change, take your time, and "Nostalgia forgets to visit this street. It is too busy with treehouses and rope swings, it doesn't have time for all of this grey." – Hieu Nguyen."
The air was humid the first time they moved. It made their clothes stick to their backs and sweat stain their robes. Their father packed them into the back of the truck, squished between piles of radishes and a large silver harpsichord. It was dangerous, their mother said, patting them on the head. Dangerous not to have them in booster seats. Their father told their mother he didn't believe in booster seats.
Then they drove off. It never occurred to either twin to ask where'd they lived those first years of their lives, and their parents never mentioned it. Lorcan missed it, but Lysander never did.
England was foggy and damp and wet. The twins did not find the old castles they'd been promised, but they did find many other things. Together they explored, not old passageways and dark dungeons, but the moist, green earth, full of worms and insects and flowers.
Sometimes their parents would take them out into the Wild, where the big animals lived. Their mother would seat one of them on each shoulder and point out the things she loved about the animals, their big horns or fire-breathing snouts or elastic suckers. The affection she had for each and every creature was palpable, and that was one of the many things the twins loved about their mother.
They also loved her dirty blonde hair, the way she let them twirl it between their fingers even after they'd gone to school. They loved her faraway smile and her halfhearted caresses, because when they really needed comforting she was always there for them. They loved the necklaces she made out of butterbeer corks and how she personalized each and every one she made.
Simply put, they loved her.
When they were seven, they moved someplace with lots of palm trees. At first there was nothing to do but throw sand at each other, but that was before they went exploring. Whenever they went exploring, they found new things, strange things. They loved it.
Their father made them a swing that hung off the palm trees. When you sat on it, it lifted you out of the sand and rose in the air to push you back and forth, stirring up stale desert air.
Lysander's favorite time to ride it was during the day. He would squint past the sun and stare ahead leagues and leagues, watching the beauty where others would see nothing. Lorcan cherished it at night, when he would don his yellow sweater and lock gazes with the moon, which seemed so much large surrounded by thousands of tiny blinking stars.
They didn't bring the swing with them when they left, but they weren't sad. There was always something new waiting for them at the next house.
"It's not good for children their age, all this change."
"Mmm," said their mother.
The twins hated it when old ladies talked about them like they weren't there. Lorcan wondered briefly if she was blind, while Lysander wondered what she would do if he showed her his worm collection. He snickered, and the old lady shot him a nasty glare.
"You should really go back to England," said the old lady. "Settle down."
"I have settled down," said their mother. "Isn't that what having kids means?"
The old lady didn't reply, her face slackening in surprise.
"You're supposed to be allowed to do what want as an adult," continued their mother. "And you can, as long as that means having kids and living in one place forever. I don't like forevers. I'd much rather take my time."
The old lady didn't say a word.
Their mother stood up and smiled vaguely. "Thank you for your visit, Mrs. Jordan. I'll certainly consider your theory on Jobberknolls. Boys, I think it's time we were on our way."
"But Mum," said Lorcan. "We live here."
"That's right," said their mother. "We do."
She walked out the door into the snow with one of their hands in each of theirs. When they came back, the old lady was gone.
"A tree house?" said their father, surprised when they asked. "Here?"
"Yes," chorused the twins. "Here."
"It's a little cold for it here," said their father, his fingers already twitching as he planned.
"We know," said Lysander.
"We live in the Arctic Circle," said their father.
"We know," said Lorcan.
Their father laughed. "The apple didn't fall too far from the tree, did it?"
"Do you think I could climb that tree?" asked Lorcan.
Lysander looked up at it. It was the tallest pine tree he had ever seen.
"No," he replied.
"I'm going to do it," decided Lorcan, reaching for the first branch.
"Don't be stupid," said Lysander, sighing heavily.
He reached for his brother's leg and tugged on it, hard. His brother came tumbling down, and they fought on the frozen dirt. It was a good day.
"I'm excited," stated Lysander.
"Good," said their mother. "You should be."
Lysander smiled up at her. He brushed dirty blonde hair back as he continued speaking.
"I'm going to miss it here," he said, looking around at their small, bright house filled with living, growing things.
Lorcan ran a thumb down the a green fern that was extending its tendrils towards him. "Me too."
"Don't," said their mother. "You don't need nostalgia so early in your lives. When you go to Hogwarts, enjoy yourself. Study, if you want. Make friends, if you can. Whatever you want to do is good, as long as you don't waste time wishing to be somewhere else. Hogwarts is magical. Enjoy it."
Lorcan reached out and squeezed his mother's hand. Lysander did the same.
"You too, mother," said Lorcan. "Don't miss us too much."
"I love you both," said their mother, smiling. "I love you two so very much."
She kissed the top of their heads and they left to start their new lives at Hogwarts. Luna lifted her arms high in the air and laughed so loud and long that tears streamed down her face.