Hello again! (Look, I actually updated in timely fashion). First and foremost, I'd like to thank you guys for your comments and questions concerning the revision. and the words of encouragement I received as well, though undeserving, I humbly thank. Thank you also for the new followers, favorites, and just reads as a whole. You will notice this chapter doesn't have much revised to it, but nonetheless it is revised. I will be stamping all the new revised chapters with an (R) next to the chapter title, and of course right down below. Enjoy~
Papa, Who's Mama? Chapter 2: (REVISED)
The smell of morning rain with a tint of incense filled the Potter's residence. The sun had just peeked up from its bed, shining its sunkist rays into the Potter's small, stone cottage. The family refused to waste but a second of it's light. On normal days Papa and the twins, Arcelia and Davion, would be getting on their clothes and boots, getting ready for the daily hike. After their morning hike, they'd come back and Papa would make breakfast. The little people of the house would clean up any mess they had made the previous day and then their Papa would call them into the kitchen to eat. They'd all clean up and in the afternoon they'd go shopping, read, do arts and crafts or play games with each other until the sun went down. Sometimes, when one of the three wasn't feeling all that chipper, they'd stay home and cook soup, feed them, make sure they had their medicine and read them stories. The one rule in the household-
"Nobody is forgotten. That's one rule we all must follow. It's our family rule."
When Papa gets sick, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione will come over with their cousins Rose and Hugo. Uncle Ron would stay upstairs with Papa and Aunt Hermione would make the meals, whilst also ensuring the medicine was just right amount. Ron and Hermione always make the children stay downstairs and play, not allowing them even the slightest chance to get sick. The first couple of times Papa got sick, they'd ask if the children wanted to go outside. Sometimes Rose and Hugo did but the twins shook their heads and returned to playing indoors. The household rule was still in place even if others were there. After Ron declared that Papa was all better, they hopped in place, waiting for Aunt Hermione to give them the magic words.
"Visitation is allowed."
They would run to his room excitedly and tackle him on the bed. Papa would tickle them or pretend to be a ravenous beast, chasing them around the house. Somehow, as soon as Papa was better, their aunt, uncle and cousins would seemingly disappear.
"Papa! Papa! Where is Aunt `Mione and Uncle Ron!" The twins would ask while frantically looking around the house.
"It's magic, loves!" Papa would always respond. He would smile brightly and quickly return to his daily chores. The twins would just stare at their Papa, their green and onyx eyes filled with curiosity.
Papa said a lot of very odd things. Especially when the twins asked questions. Their Papa was very playful, so they never knew if he was serious or not. He used magic as an excuse for small things, like when the lights would dim in the room just as they were getting sleepy. Or sometimes they'd go into the kitchen and there would be ingredients they'd never seen before just sprawled out amongst the counter.
"Papa," Davion inquired. "What are these?" He pointed to the jar of what looked like tails.
"South American Newt tails in beetlejuice." And he'd put the ingredients away.
Or like when they started to wonder about a mother. Hugo and Rose had Aunt Hermione for a mum and Jason in town had a mum. It was a common sight to see a woman holding a child's hand or for a child to call out "Mum!", with tears in their eyes when they were hurt. But the twins never recalled calling out "Mum!" when they were hurt or holding their mother's hand. There hadn't ever been another being living in the cottage besides the three of them as far as they could remember. So they had decided to consult their Papa.
"-And they both lived happily ever after." Papa closed the large, beaten up book of fairy tales and looked at his children. He raised an eyebrow, their heads weren't nodding off with sleep and they weren't asking to read another story.
"Something the matter my pretty little geese?" He questioned.
The propped themselves up from their pillow, looked at each other. Davion nodded towards Arcelia. They both looked at their beloved Papa.
"Papa, who's mama?" They asked in unison. He paused. Then answered.
"I am." He smiled, his eyes closed. He got up, kissed both their foreheads and left.
The children were left even more confused then they had been.
They had tried to get an answer they could understand from their Papa but he'd always say the same thing.
"I am." With closed eyes and a smile.
Yes, they were very much used to their Papa saying peculiar things with zero explanation. As they got older, they realized that Papa's words weren't the only off putting thing about their family. Most of their playground friends lived in a populated town, not in a clearing in the middle of a forest. Most families tables didn't get longer randomly, or have their other relatives spontaneously appear and disappear seemingly out of thin air. Most families had two parents, while theirs had Papa. And most families didn't see their Papa in the fireplace first thing when they woke up. But that's exactly what their Papa was doing one bright, spring morning. Their Papa was grinning like a loon in the middle of their fireplace.
Davion's head peeked from behind the kitchen pillar, into the living room.
"What do you think he's doing, `Celia?" Davion whispered to his sister whose head had appeared under his.
"I've but a clue, `Davi." Arcelia whispered back. She hummed a bit in thought. "Cleaning out the chimney, perhaps?"
"He wouldn't be grinning like a mad man if he were doing something as simple as that!" Davion laughed a bit. He thought his Papa looked like those cartoons on the telly.
"What are we laughing at?" Papa's whisper made the twins jump. The twins looked behind them, yelped, jumped back and yelled-
"PAPA!" Their arms were crossed, looking accusingly at their father.
"What? I was just asking a question." His arms were up, surrendering. He wanted so badly to laugh, their angry faces were just down right adorable. He couldn't help the slight grin across his face. "No need to persecute me."
"If you knew we were there you could have told us!" Arcelia said disapprovingly.
Davion nodded in agreement. "Yeah! You didn't have to scare us like that!"
"Well you didn't have to whisper about me!" He melodramatically feigned hurt, putting his left hand in front of him and his right on his heart, turned away from the twins, like a damsel in distress.
"I felt very left out, pumpkins." He pouted for a bit, the way a clown or a mime does.
The childrens angry faces were cracking and pretty soon they couldn't help but laugh at his performance. Papa winked and led them into the living room. He sat them down on the couch and kneeled in front of them.
"So now that you sneaky lil' boogies found out that I'm up to something…" He smirked mischievously. "Wanna know what it is?" He said, his tone was very excited. He was practically bouncing on his knees. They looked at each other with knowing eyes and turned back to their father.
"Is it that thing you've been going on about all week long?" Arcelia questioned.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Papa smirked.
"Papa! You haven't stopped jumping around the house saying how exciting it was going to be all week long!" Davion laughed at the silliness of his father.
"The whole trail up to the mountain every single morning you keep saying 'Oh how I can't wait! You guys are going to be so surprised and happy and adorable!'" Arcelia tried to do her best impression of her Papa's voice. Davion nodded excitedly.
"You've made us quite curious." Both the twins said, their eyes now completely transfixed on their Papa.
"Well," Papa got up and walked, chest out, to the middle of the living room before turning to them. A smirk on his face. His face was very much that of a cats. "I've been waiting for this day for a very long time my sweets."
Arcelia and Davion looked at each other again and shook their heads.
"How long?" Davion asked sarcastically. They didn't believe their Papa had waited that long or else he would have been acting like a child all month.
"How long have you two been alive?" He asked back.
"Like you don't know Papa!" Davion laughed.
"What a father you are!" Arcelia rolled her eyes and chuckled.
"Well, how old?" Papa asked, ignoring their laughs.
"7 in a half." They both replied.
"That's how long I've been waiting." Papa said, a huge grin plastered to his face.
"For what!" Arcelia asked, shocked that her impatient father could have waited for anything that long. Just yesterday he was complaining about the mail man!
"Stupid mail man! How come they are such slowpokes! Don't you agree `Celia? Davi'? I mean come on!" He had been jumping up and down like a child waiting for christmas presents. He actually ran down the trail and back up to see how far the mailman was.
"That's an awful long time…" Davion mumbled.
"I told you what I've been waiting for. I've been waiting for today." Papa drew a chair from the kitchen and sat.
"But what's so special about TODAY!" Both of they growled at their father. He was getting them quite curious and he knew they were just as impatient as him times two. Well...maybe not.
"Oh nothing is special about today, not really. Just what's going to happen today is special." The twitch of a smirk on his face was resurfacing itself.
"What is going to happen today Papa? Please tell us? Ple-ase?" Arcelia begged.
"Yeah, Ple-ase? With a treacle tart on top?" Davion pleaded, using his father's favorite treat even.
"Oh," Papa looked at the clock then turned back with the biggest grin they'd ever seen. "This."
And as they were about to yell what was it, a very peculiar thing happened. More peculiar and odd then anything their father had ever told them or anything they had ever seen. Just as they were about to yell a giant POOF! sound disrupted them and came out and a large, dusty gray cloud of smoke from the chimney. The twins coughed and coughed and waved the air in front of them. As the smoke started to clear, they swore they could see four figures. They looked an awful lot like Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, Hugo and Rose.
"Sorry we're late!" Four voices called. And sure enough, it was them. Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, Hugo and Rose were laughing and climbing out from the chimney. Wait… THE CHIMNEY?
Thank you guys for reading, sorry that there wasn't much revision in this one (I thought it was a good chapter as is, didn't want to take too much away from it). As always, if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, go ahead and message me, or if you were going to review, slap it in there. I am off tomorrow, so I should have another revised chapter for you as well tomorrow.
~Rising Nightengale
