Monday afternoon found Andrew MacMillan leading a blindfolded and giggling
Fleur by the hand. They were walking towards a meadow full of lush green
grass. Andrew lead Fleur through the enchanting meadow halfway before
finally stopping.
"Okay," he said. "I'm going to count to three, and take the blindfold off." He moved behind the beautiful girl. "One," he said, starting to unknot the bandana. "Two," he said, now only holding the bandana on with his own to hands, ready to be dropped at a moments' notice. "Three." With that, the bandana fluttered to the ground.
Fleur gasped at the sight before her. The grass was emerald green, and the wildflowers that grew throuout the meadow varied in color from bright yellow to deep violet. She could have sat there for days, just taking in the breathtaking sight. Andrew grinned.
"Do you like it?" he questioned the bedazzled girl.
"It is beautiful," she breathed in her french accent.
"I used to spend all my time here as a boy, romping about with my friends. Even after I started school I would play here all the time during the summer, laying on a quilt my mother made and doing my homework. Stydying in meadows must really work; I graduated with top marks from Hogwarts."
Fleur was glad to hear it. Directing her attention back to the multicolored sea in fromt of her, she said, "I would give anyzing to haff grown up in zis beautiful place."
Andrew looked at her with wanting eyes. "Would you like to spend the rest of the day here?" he asked Fleur, whom at present was staring over the field with a look of simple wonder.
She turned those blue-green eyes on Andrew, and all of a sudden, a childish gleam sprang into them. "Could ve really?" she asked, her voice a mirror of her eyes.
The man laughed, entwining his arm around the half-veela's waist. "If you so wish," he replied, looking down at Fleur, his brown eyes full of mirth. When Fleur nodded eagerly, he brought out his wand and conjured a quilt and a picknick basked full of food.
The young couple spread the quilt, and kicking off their shoes, went to work on the picknick that was more like a feast. Half an hour later, the two were laughing and running through the soft grass, enjoying the sensation of the emerald wave tickling the soles of their bare feet.
They came upon a hill, and soon thereafter were having a contest to see who could roll down the slope the fastest. Laughing, Fleur allowed Andrew to pick stray pieces of grass out of her soft golden-white locks. They then had a race back to the quilt, and Fleur dove for it just ahead of Andrew. She started to pick the wildflowers surrounding her, linking them together to form a chair, which she ceremoniously donned upon Andrew's kneck, and the two leanded against each other and laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.
Then they began to talk. Fleur hugged her knees to her chest and listened to Andrew talk about his family. He was the oldest of five. His oldest younger brother, Arnold, planned to marry his childhood sweetheart, Anna Hornborg, and they would have a son, Earnest, or Ernie for short. When Fleur inquired how old Arnold was, Andrew laughed and told her: fourteen. Seeing the look of deep skeptism upon her face, he assured her that Arnold was very headstrong and as in love with Anna as fourteen-year-olds get.
Next he talked about his only sister Alexandria, the middle child. She was sixteen years of age, and a real "cutie," as Andrew put it. Everyone called her Alex or Lexi, everyone. She was not in Hufflepuff, as was the family house, but Ravenclaw. She had been dating a Gryffindor named Jason Wolffang, but they had broken up a few months before, and now she was going out with Jason's twin brother, Mason. Out of his four siblings, Andrew seemed to favor Alex the most, as everyone did.
After Alex came Alan. He was twelve years old, and was in his second year at Hogwarts. He was a wild little barbarian, and paid heed to none but his elder sister, whom he beheld in a state of awe.
The last member of the MacMillan children was five-year-old Atkinson. He was a tiny little thing, and had only just started preliminary wizarding school. When Alex was home for the summer, she would act as Atkinson's mother. Mrs. MacMillan had died giving birth to Atkinson, and Mr. MacMillan was not the motherly sort. So during the summer Atkinson was Alex's little shadow.
Mr. MacMillan was a Muggle, and had married Mrs. MacMillan before she had told him that she was a witch. In fact, he had only found out when Andrew had gotten his Hogwarts letter. When Mrs. MacMillan died, he was left as a Muggle farmer to take care of five wizarding children. Each year he brought in succesful crops, and most of the income was transferred into the wizard currency for his children. He secretly hoped that Atkinson would turn out not to be magical enough to be accepted into Hogwarts, and might take over the family business of farming. But chances were slim of that happening, as he had hoped for it four times before to no avail.
Fleur was entranced by the perfect life the MacMillans seemed to live.
"I vould give anyzing to have grown up in your family," she told Andrew when he had finished and sat gazing out over the meadow. He looked at her and smiled.
"I guess we are sort of a perfect family. We're always fighting and yelling and screaming and running wild all over the place. I don't know how Dad puts up with us all," he told her. "Whenever we get to be too much, he just goes out into the fields and tends to the crops. It sort of calms his sould and keeps him from going ballistic and killing us all." He laughed shortly. "Some day he's gonna lose it. He's gonna go off one day and never come back, leaving me the estate and put Alex in charge of the younger children. Little Atkinson won't know what happened to his Daddy. I'm sure that when Alex graduates she'll take Atkinson and raise him with Mason. The two are so great together. Alex is a pretty little thing, but she's nothing compared to you," he said, looking deep into Fleur's eyes. He leaned forward to kiss her, but Fleur blushed and turned her head before their lips met. "What's the matter?" Andrew asked the girl.
"I- I've had a wonderful time listening to your entrancing tales and running around wiz you, but I must be going," she said, briskly getting up and heading away. She waved over her shoulder at him. "I hope to see you tomorrow," she called back.
Andrew sighed and hung his head. He had been this close!
"Okay," he said. "I'm going to count to three, and take the blindfold off." He moved behind the beautiful girl. "One," he said, starting to unknot the bandana. "Two," he said, now only holding the bandana on with his own to hands, ready to be dropped at a moments' notice. "Three." With that, the bandana fluttered to the ground.
Fleur gasped at the sight before her. The grass was emerald green, and the wildflowers that grew throuout the meadow varied in color from bright yellow to deep violet. She could have sat there for days, just taking in the breathtaking sight. Andrew grinned.
"Do you like it?" he questioned the bedazzled girl.
"It is beautiful," she breathed in her french accent.
"I used to spend all my time here as a boy, romping about with my friends. Even after I started school I would play here all the time during the summer, laying on a quilt my mother made and doing my homework. Stydying in meadows must really work; I graduated with top marks from Hogwarts."
Fleur was glad to hear it. Directing her attention back to the multicolored sea in fromt of her, she said, "I would give anyzing to haff grown up in zis beautiful place."
Andrew looked at her with wanting eyes. "Would you like to spend the rest of the day here?" he asked Fleur, whom at present was staring over the field with a look of simple wonder.
She turned those blue-green eyes on Andrew, and all of a sudden, a childish gleam sprang into them. "Could ve really?" she asked, her voice a mirror of her eyes.
The man laughed, entwining his arm around the half-veela's waist. "If you so wish," he replied, looking down at Fleur, his brown eyes full of mirth. When Fleur nodded eagerly, he brought out his wand and conjured a quilt and a picknick basked full of food.
The young couple spread the quilt, and kicking off their shoes, went to work on the picknick that was more like a feast. Half an hour later, the two were laughing and running through the soft grass, enjoying the sensation of the emerald wave tickling the soles of their bare feet.
They came upon a hill, and soon thereafter were having a contest to see who could roll down the slope the fastest. Laughing, Fleur allowed Andrew to pick stray pieces of grass out of her soft golden-white locks. They then had a race back to the quilt, and Fleur dove for it just ahead of Andrew. She started to pick the wildflowers surrounding her, linking them together to form a chair, which she ceremoniously donned upon Andrew's kneck, and the two leanded against each other and laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.
Then they began to talk. Fleur hugged her knees to her chest and listened to Andrew talk about his family. He was the oldest of five. His oldest younger brother, Arnold, planned to marry his childhood sweetheart, Anna Hornborg, and they would have a son, Earnest, or Ernie for short. When Fleur inquired how old Arnold was, Andrew laughed and told her: fourteen. Seeing the look of deep skeptism upon her face, he assured her that Arnold was very headstrong and as in love with Anna as fourteen-year-olds get.
Next he talked about his only sister Alexandria, the middle child. She was sixteen years of age, and a real "cutie," as Andrew put it. Everyone called her Alex or Lexi, everyone. She was not in Hufflepuff, as was the family house, but Ravenclaw. She had been dating a Gryffindor named Jason Wolffang, but they had broken up a few months before, and now she was going out with Jason's twin brother, Mason. Out of his four siblings, Andrew seemed to favor Alex the most, as everyone did.
After Alex came Alan. He was twelve years old, and was in his second year at Hogwarts. He was a wild little barbarian, and paid heed to none but his elder sister, whom he beheld in a state of awe.
The last member of the MacMillan children was five-year-old Atkinson. He was a tiny little thing, and had only just started preliminary wizarding school. When Alex was home for the summer, she would act as Atkinson's mother. Mrs. MacMillan had died giving birth to Atkinson, and Mr. MacMillan was not the motherly sort. So during the summer Atkinson was Alex's little shadow.
Mr. MacMillan was a Muggle, and had married Mrs. MacMillan before she had told him that she was a witch. In fact, he had only found out when Andrew had gotten his Hogwarts letter. When Mrs. MacMillan died, he was left as a Muggle farmer to take care of five wizarding children. Each year he brought in succesful crops, and most of the income was transferred into the wizard currency for his children. He secretly hoped that Atkinson would turn out not to be magical enough to be accepted into Hogwarts, and might take over the family business of farming. But chances were slim of that happening, as he had hoped for it four times before to no avail.
Fleur was entranced by the perfect life the MacMillans seemed to live.
"I vould give anyzing to have grown up in your family," she told Andrew when he had finished and sat gazing out over the meadow. He looked at her and smiled.
"I guess we are sort of a perfect family. We're always fighting and yelling and screaming and running wild all over the place. I don't know how Dad puts up with us all," he told her. "Whenever we get to be too much, he just goes out into the fields and tends to the crops. It sort of calms his sould and keeps him from going ballistic and killing us all." He laughed shortly. "Some day he's gonna lose it. He's gonna go off one day and never come back, leaving me the estate and put Alex in charge of the younger children. Little Atkinson won't know what happened to his Daddy. I'm sure that when Alex graduates she'll take Atkinson and raise him with Mason. The two are so great together. Alex is a pretty little thing, but she's nothing compared to you," he said, looking deep into Fleur's eyes. He leaned forward to kiss her, but Fleur blushed and turned her head before their lips met. "What's the matter?" Andrew asked the girl.
"I- I've had a wonderful time listening to your entrancing tales and running around wiz you, but I must be going," she said, briskly getting up and heading away. She waved over her shoulder at him. "I hope to see you tomorrow," she called back.
Andrew sighed and hung his head. He had been this close!