Untitled Chapter 4: Adoption
'Aqua skies, speckled with silver clouds. Turquoise oceans, quartz beaches. Lavender and violets blooming in the golden sun. Delphinium and roses, flowing alongside. Rocks of jade and coral decorate the sea board. Peaches and oranges hung from trees, waiting to be picked. Crystalline water genteelly slips between the banks of grass and wheat. Tranquil environment, free of brick, nickel, and copper. Ivory leaves conceal melons of different shapes and sizes. Ebony night is falling now, falling upon the silent island. Dreams of the nightmare to come haunted no one. Not a si-'
"Andrew pay attention!" Mistress snapped. Mumbling an intelligible reply, Andrew placed his book down. "Now then, the first families will be arriving in about an hour. I want everyone to be clean. And remember to smile. Can you do that, Andrew?" she questioned hautily.
"Of course, majesty. My parents taught me more than manners," he replied sharply. Mistress bristled, storming out of the room. Whispers spread throughout the room. sighing, Andrew slid out of his corner, walking towards his dorm. A hand caught his arm, halting his departure.
"You Andrew Parkinson?" the boy, no older then ten, asked.
"Yeah, whatever," he replied, wrenching his arm free.
"Wait a minute!" the boy cried. Andrew stopped, the boy came up alongside him.
"My name is Patrick. Patrick Nott. 'Corrding to my mom, you're my cousin, right? Your mom was my dad's sister?" At Andrew's nod, he continued. "Look, what you don't know is that my family was murdered by Death Eaters on the run. Your mum probably never told you, but my father and mum weren't Death Eaters."
"And where, exactly, is this going?"
"My mum was a muggle. Her sister found out about magic when mum married my father. She's going to adopt me. She'd probably adopt you and your sister, too," Patrick explained slowly, hoping Andrew was interested. Andrew faced him, interest in his brown eyes.
"What about Draco?" he questioned warily.
"I'm sure that she'd love to adopt him too! She loves children, she's already got three, she always said she wanted a large family," Patrick said quickly.
"And why exactly are you offering me this?" Andrew asked, a new suspicion rising in him.
"Um, well... I'm starting Hogwarts next year and I don't know any wizards and I thought maybe you'd-" he was cut off by a wave of Andrew's hand.
"All right then, But Draco and Pansy come or I don't go."
"Ok! Well, Aunt Gemma will probably adopt them to, maybe even a few other kids, you never know." Andrew nodded to himself, confirming everything within himself.
"All right then. Your aunt adopts the lot of us, I show you the ropes at Hogwarts. Deal. You best act adorably, else Mistress will go bitch on ya," Andrew said with a laugh. He continued up the stairs to his dormitory, intent on finishing his book, or at least that first chapter. Climbing on to his bed, Andrew leaned against the wall, sunlight pouring in from the open windows, slipping across the page. He mentally thanked the sunlight he had cursed not an hour ago.
* * *
"Aw Mum! Do I have to go with you??" a boy with short brown hair whined. He'd made puppy dog eyes, faked sick, pleaded, even tried to bribe his way our of going to the orphanage. His mother sighed, pulling her shoulder length brown hair into a loose bun. Giving herself a last look over in her mirror, she turned to face her son. Hands on hips, she stared at her oldest son. At 13, he was already 5'6", same height as her.
"Jonathan. you are going. Patrick is your cousin. Besides, I've been waiting to adopt that poor Andrew Parkinson and his sister. Can you imagine? They are relations," she said. "Come along now." Jonathan's protests and wails could be heard throughout the house, down the stairs, in the car, and up the steps of the London Magical Orphanage.
"Hush now, Jonny. We're here to get your cousin. If I remember right, you two were good friends." Gemma smiled as her son huffed and crossed his arms. Pushing the door open, many children glanced at her, through most already in conversation with adults. A woman with gray hair, worn in a braid, greeted them.
"Why thank you for stopping by! I am Madam Anna, mistress of this orphanage. What kind of child are you interested in adopting?" The woman asked, a large grin covering her face.
"Actually, I am looking for my nephew, Patrick Nott," Gemma said, returning the Mistress' smile with one of her own.
"Mr. Nott, yes, I do believe he is up in the Boy's Dormitory. Follow me." The Mistress led them down many corridors and up many flights of stairs. Jonathan surpresed a groan as they turned down a hall with doors on either side. The Mistress stopped before a door with a sign on it that read "Boy's 10-14". Opening it, she signaled for Jonathan and Gemma to go in.
"Aunt Gemma!" a boy cried. A small boy, barely five feet tall, ran up to her, hugging her round the waist.
"Hello Patrick. It's good to see you," Aunt Gemma said, a small smile on her face as she returned the hug.
"Well, I'll leave you three alone," the Mistress said. Casting one last glance around the room, her eyes narrowed on a boy sitting on a bed, sunlight falling on him. "Andrew! Come with me," she called. The boy glanced up and scowled at her.
"Fine you old bat! Why can't you just leave me in peace like everyone else?" he snapped. The boy shut his book, placed it in his trunk, and walked over to the Mistress.
"Whatever will I do with you, boy?" she asked herself.
"Feed me to your cats?" he suggested innocently. Fury twisted the woman's face, she grabbed his hand and let him out of the room and took him down the hall.
"Why I never! Such an insolent child. Move along!" she ordered, pulling on his arm.
"Ahh! Child abuse! Child abuse!" he cried in mock terror. Jonathan snickered. Patrick smiled.
"That woman is rather odd, though that boy was a bit rude," Gemma commented.
"He's very nice, really. Mistress doesn't like him though, his mother killed her son, when Andrew was about four. Mistress is convinced he's evil," Patrick said quietly.
"That was Andrew Parkinson?" Jonathan asked, excitement is his voice.
"Yup."
"Whoa, I thought he'd be pale, and have dark hair, and look, well, freaky," Jonathan said. Gemma painfully whacked his head.
"Well, now you know better," Gemma said, smiling. "My boy, there may be hope for you yet. Now, let's go to the nursery, I want to see the toddlers."
"But Mum!" Jonathan began.
"No buts. I really want a few more children... you know that," Gemma interrupted, a small frown appearing on her face. "How do we get to the nursery?"
* * *
Andrew sputtered indignantly as the Mistress handed him a mop and bucket.
"Since you seem to enjoy being a little terror, you get to clean the bathroom," she said, her voice stern.
"Why you-! And I'm supposed to be Satan's child! That damnable map can just go right back where it came from!" Andrew spat.
"I knew you were no good! To high and mightly for chores! Well, I'd expect it from a boy like you! Your bitch of a mother probably sheltered you from normal things. Probably gave you the bones of her victims. So how many little pets did the bitch and your simpering father have? 10, maybe 20 little whores? What about the young one, Pansy?" Mistress hissed. Angrily, Andrew shoved her roughly, a low growl in his throat.
"Don't talk about my family like that," he spat, fists clenched in anger. Pulling herself up, the Mistress glared at him, an oddly evil smile tugging on her lips.
"Your family? What about everyone else's? Hm? Well what about my son? Your mother killed for fun, she found it positively hilarious. Your father helped her along, step by step. I can see how much you all meant to each other! I'm so sorry you're little sister won't remember what saints they were," the Mistress growled, anger twisting her face. Neither noticed the three dumbfounded faces in the doorway. "What about little Draco? His parents were worse than yours! Can't you see how he's tying you down? No one wants him. He's evil to the core. You, you're just nasty, but he's pure darkness. Can't you see how his darkness is holding you back? Ah, that's right, you can't see that. Your to damned stupid," she continued, voice flitting from sarcasm and back.
"Just because your precious little worlds was based around someone you just let die, doesn't mean the rest of us should suffer," Andrew whispered. He smirked as the Mistress' eyes widened. "All of the papers talked about how you threw your son in front of you when the Death Eaters attacked. How you sacrificed a life that wasn't yours just to save your own sorry ass. Booted you out of the Ministry, they did. Now look at the great Cynthia Smliter, running an orphanage, which happens to house three children whom you happen to hate. Ah, going from high society to nothing. And you dare to call me a fail-" The Mistress' hand swiftly smacked Andrew clear across the face. The startled boy fell to the ground as the woman raised her fist again.
"Enough!" A voice bellowed. Both Andrew and the Mistress turned their heads, In the doorway stood Gemma, hands on her hips, brown eyes sharp with anger, brown-gray hair falling out of it's loose bun. "Madam, would you kindly step away from that boy, and escort me to where his sister and brother are housed. Now."
Stiffly, the Mistress walked through the door, eyes darted anxiously at Gemma and her son. Andrew walked towards the door, shaking slightly. Gemma laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, she smiled gently.
"Come love, it's time to go home."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I hope someone enjoyed Ch. 4. The beginning text, I wrote that. And yes, it does impact the plot. Please, please, please READ AND REVIEW. I need to know what you people want!
'Aqua skies, speckled with silver clouds. Turquoise oceans, quartz beaches. Lavender and violets blooming in the golden sun. Delphinium and roses, flowing alongside. Rocks of jade and coral decorate the sea board. Peaches and oranges hung from trees, waiting to be picked. Crystalline water genteelly slips between the banks of grass and wheat. Tranquil environment, free of brick, nickel, and copper. Ivory leaves conceal melons of different shapes and sizes. Ebony night is falling now, falling upon the silent island. Dreams of the nightmare to come haunted no one. Not a si-'
"Andrew pay attention!" Mistress snapped. Mumbling an intelligible reply, Andrew placed his book down. "Now then, the first families will be arriving in about an hour. I want everyone to be clean. And remember to smile. Can you do that, Andrew?" she questioned hautily.
"Of course, majesty. My parents taught me more than manners," he replied sharply. Mistress bristled, storming out of the room. Whispers spread throughout the room. sighing, Andrew slid out of his corner, walking towards his dorm. A hand caught his arm, halting his departure.
"You Andrew Parkinson?" the boy, no older then ten, asked.
"Yeah, whatever," he replied, wrenching his arm free.
"Wait a minute!" the boy cried. Andrew stopped, the boy came up alongside him.
"My name is Patrick. Patrick Nott. 'Corrding to my mom, you're my cousin, right? Your mom was my dad's sister?" At Andrew's nod, he continued. "Look, what you don't know is that my family was murdered by Death Eaters on the run. Your mum probably never told you, but my father and mum weren't Death Eaters."
"And where, exactly, is this going?"
"My mum was a muggle. Her sister found out about magic when mum married my father. She's going to adopt me. She'd probably adopt you and your sister, too," Patrick explained slowly, hoping Andrew was interested. Andrew faced him, interest in his brown eyes.
"What about Draco?" he questioned warily.
"I'm sure that she'd love to adopt him too! She loves children, she's already got three, she always said she wanted a large family," Patrick said quickly.
"And why exactly are you offering me this?" Andrew asked, a new suspicion rising in him.
"Um, well... I'm starting Hogwarts next year and I don't know any wizards and I thought maybe you'd-" he was cut off by a wave of Andrew's hand.
"All right then, But Draco and Pansy come or I don't go."
"Ok! Well, Aunt Gemma will probably adopt them to, maybe even a few other kids, you never know." Andrew nodded to himself, confirming everything within himself.
"All right then. Your aunt adopts the lot of us, I show you the ropes at Hogwarts. Deal. You best act adorably, else Mistress will go bitch on ya," Andrew said with a laugh. He continued up the stairs to his dormitory, intent on finishing his book, or at least that first chapter. Climbing on to his bed, Andrew leaned against the wall, sunlight pouring in from the open windows, slipping across the page. He mentally thanked the sunlight he had cursed not an hour ago.
* * *
"Aw Mum! Do I have to go with you??" a boy with short brown hair whined. He'd made puppy dog eyes, faked sick, pleaded, even tried to bribe his way our of going to the orphanage. His mother sighed, pulling her shoulder length brown hair into a loose bun. Giving herself a last look over in her mirror, she turned to face her son. Hands on hips, she stared at her oldest son. At 13, he was already 5'6", same height as her.
"Jonathan. you are going. Patrick is your cousin. Besides, I've been waiting to adopt that poor Andrew Parkinson and his sister. Can you imagine? They are relations," she said. "Come along now." Jonathan's protests and wails could be heard throughout the house, down the stairs, in the car, and up the steps of the London Magical Orphanage.
"Hush now, Jonny. We're here to get your cousin. If I remember right, you two were good friends." Gemma smiled as her son huffed and crossed his arms. Pushing the door open, many children glanced at her, through most already in conversation with adults. A woman with gray hair, worn in a braid, greeted them.
"Why thank you for stopping by! I am Madam Anna, mistress of this orphanage. What kind of child are you interested in adopting?" The woman asked, a large grin covering her face.
"Actually, I am looking for my nephew, Patrick Nott," Gemma said, returning the Mistress' smile with one of her own.
"Mr. Nott, yes, I do believe he is up in the Boy's Dormitory. Follow me." The Mistress led them down many corridors and up many flights of stairs. Jonathan surpresed a groan as they turned down a hall with doors on either side. The Mistress stopped before a door with a sign on it that read "Boy's 10-14". Opening it, she signaled for Jonathan and Gemma to go in.
"Aunt Gemma!" a boy cried. A small boy, barely five feet tall, ran up to her, hugging her round the waist.
"Hello Patrick. It's good to see you," Aunt Gemma said, a small smile on her face as she returned the hug.
"Well, I'll leave you three alone," the Mistress said. Casting one last glance around the room, her eyes narrowed on a boy sitting on a bed, sunlight falling on him. "Andrew! Come with me," she called. The boy glanced up and scowled at her.
"Fine you old bat! Why can't you just leave me in peace like everyone else?" he snapped. The boy shut his book, placed it in his trunk, and walked over to the Mistress.
"Whatever will I do with you, boy?" she asked herself.
"Feed me to your cats?" he suggested innocently. Fury twisted the woman's face, she grabbed his hand and let him out of the room and took him down the hall.
"Why I never! Such an insolent child. Move along!" she ordered, pulling on his arm.
"Ahh! Child abuse! Child abuse!" he cried in mock terror. Jonathan snickered. Patrick smiled.
"That woman is rather odd, though that boy was a bit rude," Gemma commented.
"He's very nice, really. Mistress doesn't like him though, his mother killed her son, when Andrew was about four. Mistress is convinced he's evil," Patrick said quietly.
"That was Andrew Parkinson?" Jonathan asked, excitement is his voice.
"Yup."
"Whoa, I thought he'd be pale, and have dark hair, and look, well, freaky," Jonathan said. Gemma painfully whacked his head.
"Well, now you know better," Gemma said, smiling. "My boy, there may be hope for you yet. Now, let's go to the nursery, I want to see the toddlers."
"But Mum!" Jonathan began.
"No buts. I really want a few more children... you know that," Gemma interrupted, a small frown appearing on her face. "How do we get to the nursery?"
* * *
Andrew sputtered indignantly as the Mistress handed him a mop and bucket.
"Since you seem to enjoy being a little terror, you get to clean the bathroom," she said, her voice stern.
"Why you-! And I'm supposed to be Satan's child! That damnable map can just go right back where it came from!" Andrew spat.
"I knew you were no good! To high and mightly for chores! Well, I'd expect it from a boy like you! Your bitch of a mother probably sheltered you from normal things. Probably gave you the bones of her victims. So how many little pets did the bitch and your simpering father have? 10, maybe 20 little whores? What about the young one, Pansy?" Mistress hissed. Angrily, Andrew shoved her roughly, a low growl in his throat.
"Don't talk about my family like that," he spat, fists clenched in anger. Pulling herself up, the Mistress glared at him, an oddly evil smile tugging on her lips.
"Your family? What about everyone else's? Hm? Well what about my son? Your mother killed for fun, she found it positively hilarious. Your father helped her along, step by step. I can see how much you all meant to each other! I'm so sorry you're little sister won't remember what saints they were," the Mistress growled, anger twisting her face. Neither noticed the three dumbfounded faces in the doorway. "What about little Draco? His parents were worse than yours! Can't you see how he's tying you down? No one wants him. He's evil to the core. You, you're just nasty, but he's pure darkness. Can't you see how his darkness is holding you back? Ah, that's right, you can't see that. Your to damned stupid," she continued, voice flitting from sarcasm and back.
"Just because your precious little worlds was based around someone you just let die, doesn't mean the rest of us should suffer," Andrew whispered. He smirked as the Mistress' eyes widened. "All of the papers talked about how you threw your son in front of you when the Death Eaters attacked. How you sacrificed a life that wasn't yours just to save your own sorry ass. Booted you out of the Ministry, they did. Now look at the great Cynthia Smliter, running an orphanage, which happens to house three children whom you happen to hate. Ah, going from high society to nothing. And you dare to call me a fail-" The Mistress' hand swiftly smacked Andrew clear across the face. The startled boy fell to the ground as the woman raised her fist again.
"Enough!" A voice bellowed. Both Andrew and the Mistress turned their heads, In the doorway stood Gemma, hands on her hips, brown eyes sharp with anger, brown-gray hair falling out of it's loose bun. "Madam, would you kindly step away from that boy, and escort me to where his sister and brother are housed. Now."
Stiffly, the Mistress walked through the door, eyes darted anxiously at Gemma and her son. Andrew walked towards the door, shaking slightly. Gemma laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, she smiled gently.
"Come love, it's time to go home."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I hope someone enjoyed Ch. 4. The beginning text, I wrote that. And yes, it does impact the plot. Please, please, please READ AND REVIEW. I need to know what you people want!