25 HP AU, what if there was no Voldemort? A snapshot into a normal life

Torture.

Pure, unadulterated torture.

It had to be one of the reasons you could add 'and unusual' to 'cruel and unusual punishment'.

Eyes closed, legs crossed, breathing regulated… the worst and most horrible punishment conceived in the third circle of hell.

Yes, the punishment known as meditation.

I couldn't let this slide in silence so I hissed to the person most likely across from me, "This is all your fault."

Even I recognised that it came out sounding far more petulant than first intended.

My older brother's voice came back at me with the time-tested, "Is not."

I raised an eyebrow even though I knew he couldn't see it and was about to make my witty reply when a loud voice cut in from the kitchen, "Do I hear talking? Because if I do, I think we can extend the time you have to meditate."

The threat from the person who had the largest influence over our short lives – our mother – served to shut us up much faster than anything else.

Because we knew.

We knew that she was crazy enough to follow through with that threat. Not to mention that she would probably enjoy the extra peace and quiet.

Oh, suuure they say that meditation will help us with our magic (which, in all honesty we cannot refute) but forcing us to do this every day plus as punishment for anything we happen to pull – it's not like we meant for that box to get stuck over dad leaving him trapped for hours!

But still they insist on torturing us.

'Clear your mind' they say, 'It will help you when you learn magic' they say, 'it will keep the greasy git out of your head' they say. It should be illegal for adults to force eleven and thirteen year olds to be still for an entire hour each day! Well, we don't have a problem with learning that occlumency stuff they taught us – hell, even uncle Padfoot was pushing for that one... it was a very enticing prospect of being able to lie to a person who could read your mind, let me tell you.

Of course there was the other alluring prospect of becoming an animagus – you know, carrying on the illegal tradition of our fathers and trying to beat out their impressive records of the age that they achieved the transformation – fifth year.

The quiet and calm required for meditation shattered when there was a loud knock at the door and a distant shout of "open up!"

Our mum bustled past where we were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace and yanked the door open. We heard her say, "Nicole!" In greeting, and in return the excited, "Lily!" came back. I couldn't help but grin a little. They had been friends since school and all these years later they were probably even closer. Mum must have calmed down enough to notice that there was someone behind her old friend and she said, "Oh, Nathaniel! Aiden's just in the family room meditating, you can tell both of them that they can stop early today. No point making you suffer for what they did. I swear your father has corrupted my Aiden, though."

It took effort to exert enough control that I didn't jump up and perform a victory dance at that, but I somehow managed to stay silent while one of my best friends replied, "Sure, Mrs Potter. But when will you just call me Nate? You know I hate being called Nathaniel!"

There was a pause in which I knew my mum would be rolling her eyes – she always did that because it annoyed Nate… my mum was just like that.

I heard the loud footsteps step into the room in which we were both sitting still, probably both feeling extremely uncomfortable being blind to whatever Nate decided to do – he was sometimes a bit excessive… we could only hope he'd let us off without a stupid prank, taking advantage of this moment.

Nate drawled, "Harry, Aiden you know what your mum said; you're free! Get up and let's go flying or something."

I grinned and opened my eyes, turning to see Nate's black hair and blue eyes staring at us expectantly. I looked over to my older brother, Harry, and saw he was getting up. I scrambled up after him and said, "So what do ya say, bro? Bit of friendly flying?"

I had to look up to him – he was tall and two years older than me, I had a reason to be short – and waited expectantly.

He walked over and ruffled my hair, which he knew annoyed me, and said, "Sorry, sis, but I'm gonna head over to the burrow and catch up with Ron; Hermione is over there as well and we're going to try to get her on a broom and play some Quidditch. Maybe another time you two." We watched as he went over to the fireplace and took a bit of the floo powder but before he used it looked at us and winked, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

A call of 'The Burrow' was the signal of him leaving and I rolled my eyes, "He just has to have a flair for the dramatics, doesn't he?"

Nate shook his head grinning, "Eh, at least he isn't stuck up."

I found myself nodding. "I guess so. But he still doesn't pull much pranks, you know. He gets in trouble for stuff that doesn't even have good results!"

Nate shook his head, "My dad couldn't corrupt him."

I shook my head in mock sorrow, "Oh, the unenlightened. They just don't understand, and then they end up with frightfully dull lives."

We took a moment before catching each other's eyes and bursting into laughter. Once it subsided, I asked, "Hey, do you know if Jase is coming over as well? It just wouldn't be a race if we didn't get to laugh at his horrid flying."

We both had grabbed a broom and were making our way to the backyard, which was the approved place for such activities – no chance of being spotted by muggles, and large enough for a good game. "I think he's coming; you know how our mums are – they can't pass up a chance to get together to talk. Plus, tonight's dinner's here so I bet he'll be over soon."

I nodded in accord as I mounted my broom. It was a tradition amongst our families that we all catch at least one meal a week together. It started because our dads were such close friends. Not to mention how close our mums had grown – we were kind of like an extended family now, except we actually enjoyed each other's company. Considering how close we grew up together, it was inevitable that Nate, Jase and I would become such good friends – carrying on the Black-Lupin-Potter tradition with flair.