Gran'papa Owl
Character studies. The widowed Mr Goldstien knows all about raising owls; children, not so much. However, his wife, his son, and his daughter in law are all gone, leaving him to raise his two little granddaughters all on his own.
1912
Porpentina and Regina are two and a half years apart in age, which means, inevitably, they will spend some of their time separated once Tina is old enough to go to Ilvermorny. Queenie takes it well until her sister actually is gone and her bed is empty.
Elijah knows something is up the next morning at breakfast. His favorite granddaughter looks like she hasn't gotten a wink of sleep, her flaxen hair limp like the tail of a beaten dog, and she plays demurely with her food without eating anything. It is hardly a challenge to guess at what has his little queen so glum. He misses Tina too.
"I couldn't hear her dreams. It's too quiet. So, I couldn't sleep."
Eli runs his hand though her hair comfortingly and gives her chin a little tap. Buck up, little queen.
The sisters have not been apart for longer than an afternoon since Fyvel and Rebecca passed away. Eli knew it would be difficult, but it's been harder than expected. After the first week, he checks on her one night to find that she's stolen away to sleep in Tina's bed instead. Eli understands—he has a pillow made out of one of Abigail's nightgowns. Every few months he dabs it with a bit of her old bergamot and lemon perfume, to renew her scent.
Though he'd rather the stray cats go away, as they would without Tina to feed them, he's not about to stop Queenie when she takes it upon herself to spend her weekly allowance on tins of canned fish instead of candy. It's her allowance to do what she pleases with, even if he opposes it. When one of the calico females grows fat with kittens, Queenie convinces him to let her put out an old pillow under the porch so that the feline can have her litter in a safe place. Elijah struggles hard to say no and caves in after three days of pleading and puppy-eyes.
They start out with five kittens, but accident and elements whittle them down to just two. Queenie becomes very protective of them, two black and white spotted kneazels with autumnal eyes she dubs Hamper and Basket. She foregoes milk in the mornings in order to give the kittens her share. Eli disapproves, but she's rebellious.
Eli refrains from telling her that he found one kitten skull in an owl pellet in the owlery. It is not without its heartbreak, but he cannot shame his owls for their nature.
Halloween comes and goes, the holiday punctuated by bobbing for apples, jumping over candlesticks, having their fortunes told by a man who pours drops of molten lead into water and divining the shapes, local ghosts who came by and tell their death stories in order to frighten anyone of a delicate disposition. Queenie leads the song in the lighting of the bonfire, but the dances aren't the same without Tina there.
Queenie's joy when Tina comes home for Thanksgiving break is beyond words. Eli and his youngest granddaughter apparate to Union Station in Albany in order to greet her as she gets off the train. Tina's hair is a little longer, but as wild as ever. She's lovely in blue and cranberry and her short leefa curls bounce as she bobs up and down on tiptoe, trying to catch a glimpse of her remaining family members through the crowd. Beside him, Queenie is making the same motions, hopping and popping her head over shoulders and under knees until Eli leans down and points Tina out.
The little blond witch sprints across the platform, shoving and bumping into pedestrians along the way, and launches herself into her sister's arms. Tina is ready for her—her sharp eye and quick reflexes haven't damped one bit. They join hands and spin and spin and spin until centrifugal force pulls them apart and they tumble to the ground, grinning and laughing and hugging. They collect some bewildered stares, two young girls rolling around with flushed cheeks and scattered luggage, but passersby just pass on by.
"Teenie, I missed you so much—!"
"I have so much to tell you, Queenie—!"
Eli waits until they wander they way back to him, beaming as only children can. Tina sets her suitcase down and throws her arms around the old man's neck.
"I missed you, Gramps."
Eli hugs her back twice as hard. She's grown taller, if only a little. His heart feels full. "I missed you too, my little porcupine."
He really shouldn't be so surprised when her response is to blow a raspberry in his ear.
Author Notes:
Friendly reminder that Tina doesn't like being called a porcupine.
Thank you, Highly-Illogical over at Ao3, for the subject suggestion.
In regards to Halloween traditions, trick or treating didn't become popular until the 40s and 50s, but all of the traditions/games described were widely practiced at Halloween parties during the early 1900s.
However, I'm not a fan of Ilvermorny, so don't expect to hear much about it from me. I'm a big fan of the Alexandra Quick series by Inverarity and strongly prefer his take on the American Magic School system than JKR's, whose interpretation is so blatantly pilgrim-y.
A note on Abigail's perfume: bergamot and lemon was a popular scent for cologne in the mid-1800s and, unlike most perfumes before it, was reasonably priced and thus accessible to the working class.
The kittens are based on two kittens I rescued from under a girl's porch back in 2015.
You can find me on Ao3 under the same old pen name. Find me on Tumblr, too.
~MegiiJ