The next day, almost immediately after the Smiths had finished their usual breakfast of organic oat porridge with honey, (Sunflower thought it was appropriate soul food, Eren and Mikasa thought it tasted nostalgically of the grub they had been fed in the military, and Pepper had a "secret" stash of poptarts for when her mother's health-food kick got too irritating,) McGonagall was back, and she had two companions with her.
"I hope we aren't too early," McGonagall said, "but I thought that this might take some time, so I thought it better to start as soon as possible. I would like to introduce the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Albus Dumbledore, and my colleague, Professor Severus Snape, who is the Potions professor and Head of Slytherin."
Sunflower, suitably impressed by all of the titles, ushered them all into the sitting-room, where her children were waiting with bated breath to see what the next episode of this farce would be.
Eren and Mikasa sat closely together on the lounge, as usual presenting a united front.
Pepper was standing to one side, out of the line of fire, half-pretending to be reading a magazine. She had known Mikki and Eren long enough, she thought, to be able to see when they were plotting something, and she wanted ring-side seats.
The first that Eren saw enter was an old man, with an almost waist-length silver beard. He was wearing a red belted robe, and a blue conical hat with yellow stars on it.
Eren narrowed his eyes. That outfit, apart from being one of the least tasteful things he had seen in a while, looked oddly familiar.
(Later, when he was wandering past a video store that had a few vintage posters on the walls, he realised where he recognised it from and couldn't decide whether Dumbledore was being intentionally funny by copying the dress-sense of a certain animated rodent or not.)
And then the second man entered, his black robes billowing.
Eren went extremely still.
Mikasa, sitting to his left, immediately noticed.
"What is it?" she asked him in their language.
"That's him," Eren replied flatly in the same language. "That's the man who tried to erase my memories."
Mikasa, who had previously been willing to be at least somewhat receptive to this concept of magic school, went from politely smiling to glaring daggers in split seconds.
"The one in black?" she asked. "I'll kill him."
Eren placed a hand on her arm. Sometimes he forgot the fact that even though normally Mikasa was extremely clear-headed and logical, to the point of making him look like a hot-headed idiot, when he was threatened, she tended to get a bit... intense.
"Wait," he said, restraining her from leaping across the room and attempting to cut Snape with the knife he knew she had hidden in her sleeve. "We don't know what they can do. And they've supposedly come over here to tell us a story. So let's hear it."
Without taking her eyes off her intended prey, Mikasa nodded, and relaxed just enough that Eren knew she had heard him.
"What language is that?" the old man in the silly hat asked. "I have often thought myself to be quite the linguist, but I have never heard that one spoken."
"Our own," Mikasa snapped at him in English.
Sunflower sent her a concerned look, because she wasn't used to seeing her two youngest look so defensive, or be so rude to guests.
Perturbed, she babbled, "Oh, those two have always spoken that to each other. I think they started making it up within days of meeting one another."
"Days?" Pepper snorted. "More like minutes." Though Pepper didn't bother to correct her mother. She knew perfectly well that her two younger siblings had been speaking that language to one another from the get-go, and there had been no "making up" involved. She wasn't entirely sure where they had learned it, but she suspected that it had a lot to do with the fact that they had seemed to know each other inside-out and back-to-front even before they could have possibly met. Adam had a few theories about that, but she and the gang felt (perhaps instinctively) that Eren and Mikasa were best left to their own devices without interference, even if the motive for said interference was well-meaning or mere curiosity.
Seeing that his intended icebreaker had fallen rather flat with his intended targets, Dumbledore seated himself in the armchair that was across from them without further comment. Sunflower sat next to her children on the lounge, McGonagall quite literally drew up a chair from thin air with her wand, and Snape stood to one side, glowering like a gargoyle.
McGonagall then proceeded to pull out a photo album. It was obviously magical, because all of the pictures moved. Sunflower was slowly becoming accustomed to this whole "magic is real" idea, because she didn't look for any hidden wires or battery packs for the "screens".
After looking through the album, and looking closely at her son, Sunflower had to admit that the resemblance was a little uncanny.
"I suppose you do look a bit like this James dude," she said. "These pictures at least explain why you have permanent bedhead."
That snort that came from the man in black was enough to make Sunflower finally react to Snape's glaring. As much as Mikasa and Eren (and indeed Pepper), had concluded that their mother was normally a bit of an oblivious flake, there were moments in which Sunflower's maternal instincts seemed to pull the world into sharp clarity for her. In moments like these, Eren and Mikasa could not help but feel nostalgic for their original mothers, because whenever Sunflower detected a threat to her children, she was refreshingly blunt and protective.
"Mister... Snape, was it? Is there any particular reason that you're glaring at my son as though he's the spawn of Satan?" Sunflower's tone was diamond hard and cold.
Snape snorted, and all present heard the implied 'close enough' in his tone. "It's Professor Snape," he said, "and frankly, your son is the spawn of Potter. That's bad enough."
"Excuse me?" Sunflower sounded ropeable. She turned to McGonagall and Dumbledore. "If this man is an example of the teachers at your school, then I am finding myself questioning the wisdom of sending my children there," she said.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I assure you, that Professor Snape is an exemplary member of staff and considered to be a genius in his field."
Sunflower was unimpressed by this assertion. "And?" she asked. "I'm missing the part where that convinces me that he is equipped to teach my children. He has done nothing but glare at them since he came in, and I don't care what sort of person he thinks the father of my son might have been, that does not give him any right to look at him like that."
Dumbledore gave Snape a significant look. Eren got the distinct impression that the look said partly, "If you can't say anything nice, then kindly shut up," as well as, "If you blow this for us there will be words."
Snape had a look of studied indifference, but conceded, "I assure you, madam, that I would not treat your son worse than any other Gryffindor..."
"Firstly, don't call me 'madam'. It's 'Ms', because I'm not defined by my marital status. Secondly, what," Sunflower demanded flatly, "is a Gryffindor?"
McGonagall proceeded to describe the four houses of Hogwarts.
Sunflower snorted.
The other adults looked at her askance. Her children, adopted, natural and semi-natural, looked amused.
"You seriously think that bravery is the dominant trait of my children?" Sunflower said. She shook her head. "Brave they might be, but you're all in for a rude shock if you think that is what Eren and Merry's dominant traits are."
She refused to explain further, despite probing questions.
Dumbledore then turned towards where Mikasa and Eren were still seated together, his blue eyes twinkling.
Eren and Mikasa just smirked to one another. They weren't explaining shit either.
...
A/N: Before you all rush to tell me, yes, I know this was really short. Next chapter soon to follow (as in, it's mostly written), but the natural break was just there, so that's where I broke it.
Oh, and to those little brats who thought it was cute to send me flames via PM, for the record, I write for me, on my timetable, when I get time, for my own enjoyment. Whilst I entirely intend to finish this (I have plans for it that make me cackle madly,) I'll do it when I get the time and inclination, and not because some twit out there who thinks I owe them updates. If this was a paying gig it'd be different. But it's not, so suck it up. For the record, the more irritated I get, the less interested I am in posting. Shocking concept, I know, but there you have it.
On the other hand, all those people who have been enjoying this and waiting patiently, thank you for your kind support :) I do appreciate genuine feedback.
So yeah, catch you guys soonish.
-Erisah