Branches

by Kiara7

[oneshot] For a school project, Rachel and Ryan Weasley must make a family tree, and in the process, learn a little more about life and prejudices.

Penname:  Kiara7

Email:  angeldlsm00@hotmail.com

Title:  Branches

Pairing(s):  Ron Weasley/Harry Potter; Hermione Granger/Justin Finch-Fletchley

Rating:  PG

Summary:  [oneshot] For a school project, Rachel and Ryan Weasley must make a family tree, and learn a little more about life in the process.

Disclaimer:  I am not J.K. Rowling.  If I were, Harry would have never gone near Cho, much less kissed that . . . er – nevermind.  No infringement intended.  Do not sue me.

Rachel Weasley hated school.  She hated the other kids and the way they whined about everything.  She hated her teachers and the way they looked at Ryan and her like they were freaks.  Daddy said it was only for a few more years and then she would be old enough to go to Hogwarts.  It was stupid to wait.  She didn't learn anything here, anyway, and everyone was mean.  She wanted to go to Hogwarts now.

Currently, Rachel attended a primary school in Diagon Alley.  Attendance was optional; no formal schooling was required before Hogwarts.  This would have been all well and good except that Daddy thought Rachel and Ryan would do better at Hogwarts if they went to another school first.  Rachel thought Daddy was wrong.

Twirling her quill in her fingers, Rachel ignored the piece of parchment set on her desk.  Leaning back, Rachel slung one arm behind her head and extended the other, reaching out with her quill to tickle the back of Ryan's ear.  He swatted at her hands, turned to glare.  Rachel smirked, shrugged, and dropped her quill on the table, swatting her messy black hair away from her eyes.

"You're supposed to pay attention," said Ryan, looking to their teacher, Miss Maccaeden.  "You'll get in trouble if you don't."

"I don't care," she said, shrugging.  "What are we doing, anyway?"

"Working on a family tree."  He sat back, pulling his parchment from the table and showed it to Rachel.  It was a strange, twisted tree with big, green leaves, and on each leaf was an empty box with a title below, labeled in big, block letters.  "We're supposed to fill them out for parent night."

"You may start on your projects," said Miss Maccaeden.  "When you're finished, I want you to bring them up to me."

Rachel chewed on the end of her quill, scraping her chair forward.  Dipping her quill in the inkwell, she started at the top and worked down.  She filled in her mummy, daddies, and grandparents before putting her own name in the box labeled 'ME' and peered over at Ryan.  His neat handwriting was slow and calculated, perfecting each letter as he filled in the boxes.  She looked around, pushed her chair back, and walked up to the room.

Miss Maccaeden peered over the top of her glasses.  Her hand marked furious strokes, quill wiggling over the parchment, but it stilled when Rachel stopped at her desk, and she dropped the quill back into the inkwell.  Straightening up, she laced her fingers together and cocked her head to the side.

"Is there a problem, Rachel?"

"I'm finished with my family tree."

"Let's see it."

Rachel pushed the parchment at her, squirming as Miss Maccaeden looked it over.  She snatched her quill up again, made marks over several of the boxes, and handed it back.  All the boxes connected to the 'FATHER' box were circled except for her own.  No marks marred her mummy's side.  Rachel frowned, looking back to Ryan.

"I want you to do this over again, Rachel," said Miss Maccaeden, holding out a fresh paper.  Rachel stared at it, but made no movements as to take it.  "Do it properly this time."

"What's wrong with it?"

"You have two people in your father's box."

"I have two daddies."

"No one has two fathers."

"Well, I do."

"I understand that you live with your father and his - er -" said Miss Maccaeden, and odd sort of grimace twisting her fine features and crinkled her forehead, "companion, but I only want you to put your real father in the box."

"I have two daddies."

"Only one can be your real father, Rachel.  We talked about this in science class last week.  Remember?"

"I don't care what you say."  Rachel crinkled her paper and a sigh wafted from the right.  Ryan, Rachel presumed, both embarrassed and annoyed with her.  "I have two daddies and they're both my real daddies."

"But which one is your step father?"

"My step daddy's name is Justin."

"Not your mother's husband.  Your father's husband."

"You don't understand.  They're both my daddies."

"Rachel, you will put one name in those boxes.  If you don't, I won't be hanging your family tree at parent night.  I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind putting one name in the box.  Would you, Ryan?"

"I'd prefer to stay out of this conversation, but thank you," said Ryan, scratching his chin with his quill.  Rachel glared, tossing her head and shoving her mass of unruly black curls out of her eyes.  Traitor.

Miss Maccaeden looked very much like Mummy sometimes did when Daddy Justin gave them sweets before dinner.  Ryan squirmed, dropping his head and continued to print meticulous letters in the ugly leaf boxes.  A smirk curled Miss Maccaeden's lips and she connected eyes with Rachel.

"Rachel, if you don't know which of you fathers is the real one, you can just take the paper home.  I'm sure they'll be willing to tell you, especially since it's for a very important school project."

"I know who my real daddy is."

"Then there's no problem with filling in the tree with only one name."

"Both my daddies are my real daddy."

"Rachel, do you want detention?"

"Maybe I do."

"You want it?  You've got it."  Miss Maccaeden ripped a piece of parchment from a roll sitting on her desk and scribbled on it with her fancy, peacock feather quill.  Some of the big kids called it the Quill of Doom because she only used it for detentions and parent meetings.  "For the next two days you are to come here when school is over.  No exceptions.  I'll give you more detentions if you don't.  Take this home and get it signed by your father.  Your real one.  Unless you'd just like to fill out your family tree the proper way."

"Fine," said Rachel, snatching the new paper out of Miss Maccaeden's outstretched hand.  "I'm not coming to you stupid detentions, though.  I didn't do anything wrong."

"You will come and if you don't, I'll send an owl to your parents.  All of them."

"Go ahead.  See if I care."

"Rachel -"

A buzzing issued through the room, and the other kids jumped from their seats, stuffing quills and parchment in their bags and overturning their chairs in a scrambled to get out.  Rachel rolled the new family tree paper, pulling back as Miss Maccaeden threw the detention slip at her and stalked from the classroom.  Clasping the detention slip, Rachel balled it in her fist and walked back to her table.

"You shouldn't fight with her.  She's a teacher," said Ryan.  He hadn't escaped when provided the chance.  In fact, he packed up most of her bag for her and all she did was drop both slip and family tree into the bag before closing it.

"I don't care.  She shouldn't say that about Dad and Daddy."

"I know, but Dad and Daddy will be mad at you for yelling at a teacher.  You got detention, too."

"I'm not going.  She can't make me."

Ryan frowned, hiking his bag higher on his shoulders, and followed Rachel as she strode out of the classroom.  They wandered down the narrow halls, light streaming in through the high, arched windows and casting funny shadows on the walls and floor.  Up ahead, Ryan pushed open the front doors, and they walked down the steps into Diagon Alley.

Rachel almost jumped when Ryan took her hand, and she tried to pull away.

"Daddy says we have to hold hands when we leave school so we don't get lost."

"I don't want to hold your hand today."

"Come on.  Don't be mad at me.  I didn't do anything."

"You didn't defend me.  You should have.  She was being mean about Daddy and Dad."

"I'm sorry, okay?  Will you hold my hand now?  Daddy will be really mad it we don't.  We could get lost."

"You're such a baby," she said, rolling her eyes, but she let Ryan hold her hand.  The people in Diagon Alley were really big and sometimes it was kind of scary walking to Quality Quidditch Supplies after school.

Pushing open the door, Ryan and Rachel shied away from the big kids and grown ups looking at the new brooms.  They slunk behind the counter and sat in the big plushy chairs they waited in until Daddy got off work.

*

Rachel kicked her legs under the table, staring down at the clumps of chicken and pasta on her plate.  Ryan sat across from her, shoulders squared as he cut his chicken into identical square pieces.  To her left, Daddy pushed his noodles around on his place, and to the right, Dad propped his head up on the heel of his hand, staring between his husband and children.

"So - er - Harry," said Dad, "how was work?"

"The usual."

"How about you, Rae?"

"I don't go to work," said Rachel.

Daddy laughed, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth.  Dad shook his head, grinning.

"You know what I mean.  How was school?"

Rachel shrugged.

"Ryan?"

Ryan glanced up from his measurements, dropping the knife, causing it to clatter against the plate.

"What?"

"How was school?"

Ryan's eyes grew wide and he grabbed the knife, scraping the plate with shuddering grates as he slashed at the plate.  He shrugged, mumbled, "Nothing," and hung his head.

"You two have been awfully quiet," said Daddy.  "I think I brought the wrong kids home.  What do you think, Ron?  Are they imposters?"

"They must be.  I know our Rae and Ryan aren't this quiet.  Maybe we should take them back and demand our real kids."

Cracking a smile, Ryan giggled.  "It's us."

"Are you sure?" said Dad.  Ryan nodded, his grin going wider.  "Well, then, why are you quiet?  Did something happen at school today that you aren't telling us?"

The grin fell from Ryan's face and he dropped his head again, mutilating his beautifully-cut chicken pieces.

"Nothing," said Ryan.

"Are you sure?"

Rachel threw down her fork and pushed away her plate.

"Which of you is our real daddy?"

Daddy almost choked on his chicken.

"What?"

"Which of you is our real daddy?"

"We did family trees in class today," said Ryan, his jaw trembling and knuckles white as he gripped at his fork and knife.  "Our teacher said we can only have one real daddy.  We learned about it in science.  And we can only put one daddy on our paper."

Daddy and Dad looked at each other from across the table, their eyes big.  They had that look that grown ups get sometimes; one that Rachel didn't really understand, but she knew it meant they needed to have one of their 'talks.'

"Well -" said Daddy.

"You see -" said Dad.

"I got in trouble because I told Miss Maccaeden that you were both my daddies," said Rachel.  "Why did you lie to us?  She said I couldn't have two daddies.  She said so.  And now I gots detention because I told her I did have two daddies, but I'm not going cause s'not fair.  I won't go.  It's all your fault."

"Listen, Rae, we didn't lie to you," said Daddy.  "It's true that in science you can only have one real daddy, but you can have more than one real daddy in a family.  We never told you who your daddy in science is because we're a family.  We didn't really think about it."

"You know we don't really think about things a lot," said Dad.

"Okay," said Rachel, crossing her arms.  "But I still have to know who my real daddy is for class.  My teacher wants me to only put one name down."

"Go get your paper, then, and we'll sort this out."

Rachel climbed out of her chair, Ryan following, and they disappeared through the dining room door, allowing it to swing on the way out.  Moments later, Ryan trailed as Rachel pushed in.  She scrambled into her chair, pushing her paper out to Daddy while Ryan hung by Dad, fingering the edges of his own paper.

"We need to put our bi - er - our science daddy."

"Biological," said Ryan.  Dad took Ryan's paper from his worrying fingers and glanced down.

"Right," said Rachel.  "Bio-something."

"I guess that's me, then," said Daddy.  "Can someone get us a quill?"  At the other end of the table, Dad rolled up Ryan's paper, placed it in his hands, and gave him a little nudge toward Daddy.  He dug through a drawer and passed a quill to Daddy.  Frowning, Daddy gave Dad's hand a little squeeze, and Rachel eyed Dad as he cleaned up the table.

"You ought to put Potter in my space," said Daddy, tapping the box with the quill, and then he handed it to Rachel.

"I thought your name was Harry," said Rachel.  Ryan sighed, shaking his head.

"Potter was his last name, stupid."

"I'm not stupid!"

"Ryan, don't call your sister stupid," said Daddy.

Rachel stuck out her tongue as the movement in the kitchen stopped, and Dad's footsteps echoed up the staircase.

*

Try as hard as she might (which was a lot more than on usual school nights), Rachel couldn't fall asleep. Unlike usual, she didn't ready by her night light; she had a bad feeling in her tummy.  She rolled over on her side and pulled her blankets up to her chin.  When that didn't help, she flipped to her other side.  Pushing the blankets down to her chest, Rachel shut her eyes and listened to Ryan's steady breathing across the room.  She needed to fall asleep.  Maybe some water would help.

Rachel slid out of bed, put on her Chudley Cannon slippers that Dad got her for Christmas, and padded into the hall.  It was dark except for the sliver of light under Dad and Daddy's bedroom door.  For a moment she stared at the light, but she remembered her mission, and headed for the staircase.

The railing felt big in her little hands, and she held onto it as she walked downstairs.  A light was on in the kitchen, and it filtered out into the rest of the first floor.  Rachel wondered who was downstairs and awake at this hour, and hoped she wouldn't get yelled at for being out of bed.  She couldn't help that her tummy felt funny.  Maybe she was sick.

Daddy sat at the kitchen table, his forehead in his hand, and a piece of parchment lay before him.  Upon hearing Rachel's entrance, he glanced up, and frowned before standing from the table.

"What are you doing up?"

"I wanted some water.  I couldn't sleep."

Daddy looked her over and then pulled out one of the chairs.  As Rachel climbed up to the table, Daddy moved to get a cup, which he filled with ice and water.  He rummaged through a drawer by the sink and dropped a white and red straw into the cup.  Returning, he handed her the cup and sat back in his seat.  Closer inspection proved the parchment to be Rachel's family tree.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" said Daddy before Rachel had a chance to ask him why he was looking at her family tree.

"My tummy feels weird."

"Does it hurt?"

"No.  It feels sick, though.  Kind of squirmy."

"A squirmy tummy?  That doesn't sound good."

Rachel shook her head and sipped her water through the straw.

"How comes you're down here?" said Rachel.

"I was looking at your family tree.  Did you really get detention for putting mine and Dad's name in the box?"

"No, I got detention cause I told her I wouldn't fix it cause you're both my daddies."

"Bet she loved that."

"Daddy, how come Miss Maccaeden says I can only have one daddy, but you say I can have two?"

Daddy sighed and rubbed his chin with his index finger and thumb.

"Rachel, there are some people who think that just because someone isn't your biological daddy, that they aren't your real daddy."

"People like Miss Maccaeden?"

"Yes.  You see, a lot of kids only have one mummy and one daddy, or they have two mummies and two daddies, because their parents are divorced and got remarried."

"Like you and Mummy?"

"Yes, like me and Mummy.  A lot of people aren't used to a boy marrying a boy."

"Peter Stevens said that it's weird for two boys to be married.  He made fun of you and Dad."

"It isn't very common for two boys or two girls to get married.  Until a few years after you were born, it wasn't even allowed, but then the old Minister of Magic -- Cornelius Fudge -- was removed from office, and your grandpa took over.  Some people think it's bad for two boys or two girls to get married, and they make fun of those people."

"That's mean."

"It is mean."

"Is Miss Maccaeden like that?"

"I don't know."

"If you're both my real daddies, how come I only put one name in the box?"

"Because that's what Miss Maccaeden wants."

"So I'm just pretending?  So that she doesn't yell at me again?"

"Something like that."

"I don't want to go to her detention."

"I know you don't, but you can't cause too many problems in her class.  We did the family tree like she asked; you're going to go to the detentions, too.  I know you'll be a good girl and make me and Dad proud."

"Is Dad mad at me?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I said you weren't both my real daddies."

"You didn't say that, sweetheart, your teacher did.  You said that we were."

"But I got mad again and said you lied to me."

"No, Dad isn't mad at you."

"Did I hurt his feelings?"

"No, I think Miss Maccaeden hurt his feelings."

"I don't want Dad to be sad because of me."

"He won't be.  He'll get over it."

"Ryan's mad at me.  He said that I should have just done what Miss Maccaeden said so that she didn't say more mean things about you and Dad.  He isn't even mad at Miss Maccaeden, just me."

"I wouldn't say that.  Ryan isn't like you.  He's a lot more like Mummy.  She'd get mad at teachers, but she never yelled at them.  She did what they asked to keep the peace, but that didn't mean she was happy about it.  You're more like me.  I yelled at teachers when they made me mad, too, and your mummy got mad at me for it.  Ryan won't stay mad at you if he is now."

"Ryan said that I hurt Dad's feelings and that's why he left dinner when you helped us work on our family trees."

"Ryan loves your Dad a lot.  Miss Maccaeden hurting Dad's feelings hurt Ryan's."

"Ryan's feelings are hurt, too?  Because of me?"

"No, not you."

"Miss Maccaeden?"

"Yes."

"So Ryan is mad at Miss Maccaeden, not me?"

"That's right."

"That's really hard to think about."

"I know."

"I love Dad a lot, too.  Why didn't it hurt my feelings?"

"Because you're like me.  You didn't know Dad's feelings were hurt, just like you didn't know Ryan's were."

"My head hurts, Daddy."

"Mine, too."

"Does Dad still like me?"

"Of course he still likes you.  He loves you, Rae.  Nothing is going to change that, especially not a stupid family tree."

"Does he think I don't love him anymore?"

"Do you want to talk to Dad?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on."

Daddy pulled out Rachel's chair, took her cup away, and pulled her into his arms.  Despite how upset she felt, she giggled a little, and hid her face in Daddy's neck.  The light of the kitchen faded as they headed upstairs, and she bounced against him as he climbed the staircase.  Turning, Daddy walked down the hall, passed Rachel's door, and knocked on his bedroom door.  He set Rachel to her feet, turned the knob, and stuck his head in.

"Ron?"

"You don't have to knock on your own door, Harry."

Daddy glanced down at Rachel.

"How are you?"

"I'm all right.  Why?"

"You have someone here to see you."

"Who?"

Daddy pushed the door open farther and nudged Rachel in the room.  Dad's confused look fell and a soft smile crossed his face.  He sat on his bed with pieces of parchment and books scattered across the blankets.  Collecting them together, he dropped his things to the floor and patted the bed.

"Come here," said Dad.  Daddy smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him.  Rachel hung by the door and looked at it, hoping Daddy would come back and make this easier on her.  She worried the sleeve of her nightgown.  "Rachel?  Why are you out of bed?"

"I had a bad dream?"

"Rachel -"

"I couldn't fall asleep.  My tummy feels funny."

"Your tummy feels funny?  Well, stop telling it jokes before bed."

"Dad," she said, breaking into a grin.

"Come here, Rae."

Rachel walked over and climbed up on the bed.  She stretched her legs out and wiggled her slipper-clad feet.  Dad stared down at them, grabbed her foot, and wrestled the slipper away.

"Give it back!"

"No.  It's mine until you tell me why you couldn't sleep."

"My foot's cold."

"You should have thought about that before you made your tummy feel funny.  Why couldn't you sleep?"

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and giggled.  Dad waved the slipper at her and shoved it down his shirt.

"I couldn't sleep cause my tummy felt funny."

"Why did your tummy feel funny?"

"I don't know."

"How cold do you think your foot is going to get?"

"Dad!"

"Rachel!"

"My tummy felt funny cause it did.  I don't know why."

"So why are you here to see me?"

"Cause."

"Good reason."

"Can I have my slipper back?"

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Fine.  Daddy said I should talk to you."

"Why were you talking to Daddy?"

"Because he was downstairs when I went to get water."

"Why did Daddy say you should talk to me?"

"He didn't say."

"How long are we going to run in circles?"

"My foot's cold."

"That's a long time."

"You're silly, Dad."

"I know."

Dad pulled the slipper out of his shirt, eyed Rachel's feet, and replaced the slipper to the bare foot it previously occupied.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome.  Mind telling me why you're here?"

"I wanted to say I was sorry."

Dad frowned and sat back.

"What for?"

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Who said you hurt my feelings?"

"Ryan.  He said I hurt your feelings cause I wanted to know who my biolitical daddy was."

"Biological."

"Right.  And Ryan said that it hurt your feelings, cause you are my daddy, and I'm sorry."

"You didn't hurt my feelings, Rae."

"Did Miss Maccaeden?  Daddy said Miss Maccaeden hurt your feelings."

"A little bit."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm mad at Miss Maccaeden."

"Daddy said that it's okay to have more than one real daddy, but people like Miss Maccaeden think it's not."

"Daddy is right."

"I'm sorry Miss Maccaeden hurt your feelings."

"Me, too."

"I love you."

Dad smiled, lunged forward, and seized Rachel around the waist.  He pulled her onto his lap and hugged her to his chest.

"I love you, too."

"Do I have to go to stupid Miss Maccaeden's detentions?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to."

"You're in enough trouble already."

"That's what Daddy said."

"Daddy is a smart man."

"I don't want to go to Miss Maccaeden's class.  She made me real mad today.  I don't want to give her my family tree paper, but she said she won't hang mine for parent night if I put you and Daddy on.  Daddy said people like Miss Maccaeden think its weird for two boys to be married so they're mean.  She was, too, Dad.  She was real mean."

"Just give her the paper the way you and Daddy filled it out.  You don't want to be the only one without a paper up on parent night.  Justin isn't on your paper; I don't have to be."

"But I don't see Daddy Justin a whole lot and I see you every day."

"But you love Justin, too."

"Not so much as you."

"Don't get upset over it, Rae.  I'll be okay.  My feelings aren't too hurt, and I'll be better in the morning.  In the meantime, you need to sleep.  You have school tomorrow and you need sleep."

"I'm still sorry about Miss Maccaeden."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

*

"Mummy!"

Rachel barreled through the crowded hallway of students and parents, colliding with Mummy's legs.  Mummy laughed and wrapped her arms around Rachel.

"Hi, Rae.  Where's Ryan?" said Mummy.

"I'm right here," said Ryan, laughing.

"I didn't see you."

"You're not loud enough," said Daddy Justin.  "You need to speak up, Ryan."

"I didn't want to interrupt."

"How those two can be so different . . ."

"Mummy, come on," said Rachel.  "I want to show you my paper.  Me and Ryan had to do family trees and Miss Maccaeden hung them up, so you have to come, Mummy, you have to."

"I'm coming."

Mummy laughed, held Rachel's hand, and Rachel dragged her down the hall to Miss Maccaeden's classroom.  Dad and Daddy were already there, and looked very funny sitting at the small tables, especially Dad, whose legs were so long that they stretched far out into the aisle.

"Hey, Hermione," said Dad, shifting on his tiny chair.

"Hi, Ron.  How have you been?"

"Good.  I haven't seen you in three weeks."

"Justin and I were away.  I missed Ryan and Rachel."

"Of course you did," said Rachel.  "I'd miss me, too."

Daddy Justin shook his head and walked over to Dad and Daddy.

"How was your trip?" said Daddy.

"Not bad.  Hermione spent almost every day in Paris at the museums.  It got boring."

"Justin doesn't appreciate culture," said Mummy.

"I'd have rather gone to see a good Quidditch game or something."

"Couldn't agree with you more there," said Dad.  "Those kind of differences is why Hermione and I could have never gotten together."

"That and you're gay," said Mummy.

"Well, yes, but you were with Harry, and he's with me now."

"Which is probably why Harry and I didn't work out."

"We tried, though," said Daddy.

"Rachel was going to show us her family tree, but she said we had to wait for you," said Dad.  "It's about time you showed up.  I was about to sneak a peek."

"That's bad," said Rachel.  She wagged her finger and put a hand on her hip.  "You don't want to do that.  But you can see it now.  Come on, everyone.  Come on."

She led them to the back of the room where kids were crowding, pointing family trees, artwork, and various projects out to parents.  Some of the adults looked back at Ryan, Rachel, and their four parents.  A few of them sneered, moved their children away, but others smiled.  Mr. Neville, there with his wife, Parvati, and their daughter, waved to Mummy, Daddy, Dad, and Daddy Justin.

"Lauren told us that Rachel and Ryan were in her class," said Mr. Neville.  "I hear you're a lot of fun, Rachel, but Ryan's kind of quiet."

"I don't like to draw a lot of attention to myself," said Ryan.

"He's a very tame little boy," said Mummy.  "Rachel makes up for that."

"Sure, I do," said Rachel.  "Ryan's okay, though, he's just not so fun as me, but I make him play with me, and then he's lots of fun."

"Her logic sounds good to me," said Dad.

"You see what Hermione means when she says that Rachel makes up for Ryan," said Daddy Justin.

"She's our wild child," said Daddy.

"Kind of like you, then, Harry," said Parvati.

"Yeah."

"Rachel takes after Harry, and Ryan takes after Hermione," said Dad.  "On his own, Ryan's pretty good, but Rachel has a way of pulling him into trouble."

"Tell me about it," said Ryan.

"Look at my family tree," said Rachel.  She grabbed a chair and pulled it to the wall, it's legs screeching across the linoleum.  Climbing onto the chair, Rachel pointed to a tree near the top.  Beside it, Ryan's tidy print displayed the information exactly as Harry read off to him.  Big, dark scribbles marred Ryan's print, and large scrolling letters displayed two names on the 'Father' line.  It was the same large scrolling letters that adorned Rachel's paper.

"Rachel!" said Daddy.  "Miss Maccaeden took yours and Ryan's trees like that?"

"No," said Rachel.

"She waited until Miss Maccaeden put 'em up and then changed 'em!" said Ryan.  "I told her she was gonna get in trouble."

"What are you talking about?" said Mummy.

Rachel began to explain, but Daddy cut her off, and gave Mummy the short version.  She looked angry, amused, and irritated all at the same time, and Rachel climbed off the chair.  Slinking behind Ryan, she tried to whistle, but only succeeding in blowing strangled puffs of sound from her mouth.  Dad smirked.

"You see what I'm saying?  She takes after Harry," said Dad.

"Rachel, that wasn't a good thing to do," said Mummy.  She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"But they're both my daddies!"

"She thought she hurt my feelings when she did the paper," said Dad.

"Miss Maccaeden really told her that you weren't her father?" said Mummy, dropping her voice as if she didn't want Ryan and Rachel to hear.  Rachel strained her ears and told Ryan to shush.

"It sounded that way," said Dad.  "I mean, I wasn't mad at Rachel -"

"Of course not."

"But I'd like to do something about that Miss Maccaeden.  I finally found someone I dislike almost as much as Draco Malfoy."

Mummy frowned.

"Come here, Rae," said Dad.  Rachel snuck out from her hiding place behind Ryan and went to Daddy's side.  "You know, maybe we should think about getting you a new teacher.  And a frame for those family trees."

"Maybe I should just not go to school," said Rachel.

"Fat chance," said Ryan.  "Besides, you need school."

"I wanna go to Hogwarts!"

"You're not old enough, stupid."

"Don't call me stupid!"

"Ryan, you know better than that," said Mummy.  "Apologize to your sister."

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

"That's okay, but I'm still mad at you," said Rachel.

Mummy rolled her eyes, smiled, looked at Mr. Neville, and shrugged.

"Miss Maccaeden is going to be really mad when she sees that," said Dad.

"Let her be," said Daddy.  "They're yours just as much as they are mine.  I think getting a new teacher is a good idea."

"I can't believe she told them that you aren't their father," said Mummy.  "That's horrible."

"And she's wrong, too," said Rachel.

Ryan looked around the room, climbed up on the chair, and pulled the family trees off the board.  Daddy Justin laughed, and helped Ryan down.

"What did you do that for?" said Dad.

"I didn't want Miss Maccaeden to get mad and ruin them."  Ryan walked over to Dad and Mummy, handing one to each.  "Now you can both have one, and Miss Maccaeden won't ever know."

"So she can't give me another detention," said Rachel.

Dad smiled, stared down at the paper, and folded it before sticking it in his pocket.

"You know, I think I'd like to go home," said Dad.

"But I didn't show you all my projects yet!" said Rachel.

"You can show them to me when we pick them up.  I'm going to talk to the headmistress tomorrow morning.  We'll try and get you a new teacher."

Rachel grinned and arched and eyebrow.  Ryan sighed, heaving his shoulders.  Mummy laughed and clapped Ryan on the shoulder.

"You sound like the weight of the world was just lifted off you," said Mummy.

"I get really tired of Rachel fighting with Miss Maccaeden all the time."

"Yeah.  Ron, Harry, why don't you take them home.  How about I come over this weekend and we can all be together?  You can show me how good you're getting at Quidditch"

"Yeah!" said Ryan and Rachel.

"I'm getting really good," said Rachel.  "Daddy bought me a new broomstick, and I can almost catch the Snitch.  Dad and me played really good against Daddy and Ryan, but Daddy still beat me, cause I can't catch the Snitch real good yet."

"That sounds great, sweetheart.  I'll see you on Saturday, then?"

"Sure," said Daddy.  "You two ready to go?"

"Anything to get away from school."

They said goodbye to Mr. Neville, Parvati, and Lauren, and walked out of the school together.  Dad put an arm around Rachel and pulled her to his side, messing up her already disheveled black mane.