AN: I needed a break from all the Percy angst, so this is what came out.
Very short and sweet. Hope you enjoy.
Love, Julu
It was one of those lovely late summer Saturdays when it seemed perfect to be in the garden. At six months pregnant, Penelope Weasley found it easier to sit cross-legged on the ground as she pulled weeds from her marigold bed. She was delighted to have stolen a few peaceful moments by herself among the flowers, dirt and grass. But as with all young mothers, the privacy did not last long, for little children are sure their parents belong to them and are apt to remind them of such at regular intervals. So after a lovely 10 minutes or so, Penelope was not surprised to be joined by the middle of her three curly haired daughters, five year-old Olivia. The child stood above her, clutching a doll and waiting for her mother to respond in some way.
"Would you like to help me, Livy?" Penelope offered.
"Yes, please." Olivia dropped to the ground and parted the dirt with her small hands.
"Where's Beatrice?" Penelope asked.
"She's playing with Daddy. They're playing with the fairy wings Uncle George brought over. Daddy won't let her fly too high."
"And what about Margaret?"
"She walked over to Grandmum's."
Olivia pointed to a small hand-painted sign half covered by flowers. "What does that say, Mummy?"
Penelope laughed,, "You know what that says, Livy, it's what we call our home."
"The Minister's Cottage."
"That's right."
"Why do we call our house that?" the child was now collecting stones to bury in the hole she was digging.
"Well," Penelope smiled, "Your Uncle Ron started that. He painted that sign. It's a long story."
"Will you tell me?"
"Well, I'll tell you the important parts. A long time ago, your Daddy wanted to be the Minister of Magic."
"Really?"
"Yes really. But then he changed his mind."
"What made him change his mind?"
Penelope's face darkened for only a fraction of a second. "Well, a lot of things. But mostly he decided he'd rather marry Mummy and have a happy family."
"And so Daddy took Granddad's job instead?"
"Yes, that's exactly what he did. And Mummy and Daddy didn't have any money, but we were very happy and for a while we lived with Grandmum and Granddad. And then we found out we were going to have Margaret and we were even happier, except for one thing."
"You wanted a house."
"That's right. A special place for our own family. So one day, all of your aunts and uncles came to the Burrow and they brought us down here by the lake and with all their magic combined, they built our cottage. And once they were finished, Uncle Ron said that your Daddy would always be the Minister of Magic in this house and so he painted a sign. And that's why we live in the Minister's Cottage."
Suddenly Percy's shouts could be heard approaching, as three year-old Beatrice flew out of an open window. "Beatrice Weasley that is definitely against the rules. If I have to get on a broomstick to get you down you are going to be really sorry."
Percy tumbled through the window and landed in the flower bed as Beatrice fluttered, giggling, around the lowest branches of the oak tree. "I'm going to kill George. He told me she couldn't get any higher than my knees."
"Maybe it's not the wings. Maybe it's Beatrice." Penelope suggested with a grin.
"You think?" Percy looked impressed as he brushed himself off and hurried towards the tree. With an 'Accio, Beatrice' he managed to have the pint sized fairy back in his arms.
"Mummy?"
"Yes Livy."
"Did you want Daddy to be Minister of Magic?"
Penelope smiled as she watched Beatrice plant laughing baby kisses on Percy's nose. "I just wanted Daddy to be happy, love. Do you think Daddy's happy?"
Olivia surveyed her father carefully before replying sagely, "He looks pretty happy to me."
Penelope leaned back into the warm grass and stretched out her swollen feet. "You know, Livy, I couldn't agree more."
It was one of those lovely late summer Saturdays when it seemed perfect to be in the garden. At six months pregnant, Penelope Weasley found it easier to sit cross-legged on the ground as she pulled weeds from her marigold bed. She was delighted to have stolen a few peaceful moments by herself among the flowers, dirt and grass. But as with all young mothers, the privacy did not last long, for little children are sure their parents belong to them and are apt to remind them of such at regular intervals. So after a lovely 10 minutes or so, Penelope was not surprised to be joined by the middle of her three curly haired daughters, five year-old Olivia. The child stood above her, clutching a doll and waiting for her mother to respond in some way.
"Would you like to help me, Livy?" Penelope offered.
"Yes, please." Olivia dropped to the ground and parted the dirt with her small hands.
"Where's Beatrice?" Penelope asked.
"She's playing with Daddy. They're playing with the fairy wings Uncle George brought over. Daddy won't let her fly too high."
"And what about Margaret?"
"She walked over to Grandmum's."
Olivia pointed to a small hand-painted sign half covered by flowers. "What does that say, Mummy?"
Penelope laughed,, "You know what that says, Livy, it's what we call our home."
"The Minister's Cottage."
"That's right."
"Why do we call our house that?" the child was now collecting stones to bury in the hole she was digging.
"Well," Penelope smiled, "Your Uncle Ron started that. He painted that sign. It's a long story."
"Will you tell me?"
"Well, I'll tell you the important parts. A long time ago, your Daddy wanted to be the Minister of Magic."
"Really?"
"Yes really. But then he changed his mind."
"What made him change his mind?"
Penelope's face darkened for only a fraction of a second. "Well, a lot of things. But mostly he decided he'd rather marry Mummy and have a happy family."
"And so Daddy took Granddad's job instead?"
"Yes, that's exactly what he did. And Mummy and Daddy didn't have any money, but we were very happy and for a while we lived with Grandmum and Granddad. And then we found out we were going to have Margaret and we were even happier, except for one thing."
"You wanted a house."
"That's right. A special place for our own family. So one day, all of your aunts and uncles came to the Burrow and they brought us down here by the lake and with all their magic combined, they built our cottage. And once they were finished, Uncle Ron said that your Daddy would always be the Minister of Magic in this house and so he painted a sign. And that's why we live in the Minister's Cottage."
Suddenly Percy's shouts could be heard approaching, as three year-old Beatrice flew out of an open window. "Beatrice Weasley that is definitely against the rules. If I have to get on a broomstick to get you down you are going to be really sorry."
Percy tumbled through the window and landed in the flower bed as Beatrice fluttered, giggling, around the lowest branches of the oak tree. "I'm going to kill George. He told me she couldn't get any higher than my knees."
"Maybe it's not the wings. Maybe it's Beatrice." Penelope suggested with a grin.
"You think?" Percy looked impressed as he brushed himself off and hurried towards the tree. With an 'Accio, Beatrice' he managed to have the pint sized fairy back in his arms.
"Mummy?"
"Yes Livy."
"Did you want Daddy to be Minister of Magic?"
Penelope smiled as she watched Beatrice plant laughing baby kisses on Percy's nose. "I just wanted Daddy to be happy, love. Do you think Daddy's happy?"
Olivia surveyed her father carefully before replying sagely, "He looks pretty happy to me."
Penelope leaned back into the warm grass and stretched out her swollen feet. "You know, Livy, I couldn't agree more."