AN: "By the pricking of my thumbs something wicked this way—Ah! Sirius, get over here! Call Allesandro off! CALL HIM OFF BOY!"
Whew Curse rampaging hippogriffs. Now there's fuzz all over everything.
BTW: One-shot.
And on to da story, me hearties……
"Absolutely not," she replied, turning to storm up the stairs.
"But Molly, he's family," her mother stood in the kitchen doorway, waving her wand scoldingly.
"He's also thinks that manners are a conspiracy to turn us all into muggles," she paused. "And he carries around that dratted stuffed hippogriff and he expects everyone to talk politics with it…"
"I'll pay you," Mrs. Prewett bargained, raising a mocking brow. "Assuming your brothers have not drained all the family's finances on training that mutt…"
"NOT A MUTT!" Gideon stuck his head in the front door, panting and rubbing tiredly at his flushed cheeks. "His name is Arthur."
Molly rolled her eyes. "Arthur's a stupid name."
"Is not. And what would you name him…Thomas Abbot?"
"What do you know about—" Her voice raised an octave as she glared angrily at Gideon. Mrs. Prewett took that moment to intervene.
"That has nothing to do with anything, Gideon. Now, take Arthur to the back."
"He was just outside!"
"OUT!"
After seeing the younger of the Prewett twins out, (Fabian had taken the long way around to avoid certain neighbors), Mrs. Prewett walked back in to stare pointedly at Molly.
"I need you to do this."
Molly groaned, leaning against the stair rail. "Would I have to go over there?"
"It's part of the deal, Molly," She sighed, then looked vaguely ill. "I'll keep the floo open, I promise."
"They must be desperate."
"Well," Mrs. Prewett said, shifting from foot to foot. "Evidently their regular sitters have taken, er…spontaneous leaves of absence…"
"You mean they've all been committed, and he's out for new blood."
Mrs Prewett glanced up, annoyed. "He's just six years old!"
"Going on two hundred and seven. He's just so odd." She sighed, twisting a long red curl through her fingers and pulling, only to find a hard, sticky lump glued to the strands. "I thought they'd gone and denounced us, Mum."
"Well, they need the help. It's limited when you only hire purebloods." She moved to sit and pick at the fossilized gum. Molly slumped with her head in her hands.
"Fine then. But I get to go dress shopping…"
"Oh that's right. Molly-wolly will need a dress when she's dancing away at the Yule Ball with Tommy—" Fabian stuck his head in, grinning with all the innocence of a dimpled angel, dragging a forty pound Labrador behind him. Arthur had no intention of leaving the outside.
"Leave him out. Didn't you hear me talking to Gideon?"
Fabian laughed, waving his hand in surrender. "Relax, Mum…the whole neighborhood could hear you."
Mrs. Prewett clapped her hands as she locked the door behind her son, causing the stone wall to rattle and crack. The ghoul who lived in it never had liked loud noises. "I'll just write to Arasma then and tell her the good news, then?"
"Better you then me."
Mrs. Prewett smiled, before jumping and racing into the kitchen as the scent of burnt muffins wafted through the room.
Molly groaned, walking across the room only to collapse on a loveseat. She'd had nightmares about this before. Never more had she regretted being related to the Blacks.
"Why do people sneeze?"
Molly glanced down from the meter long list of instruction that had been left for her.
"What?"
"Andy said it was because baby doxies live in your nose," Sirius scrunched up his face, then waved his hippogriff around. "But Allesandro says she's wrong."
"Who is Allesandro?" Molly glanced down in time to have a stuffed hippogriff shoved in her face. "Ah. I thought his name was Mark."
"It was, but then he discovered he wanted to be a magician, and he picked a new name. No one pays to see an escape act by a hippogriff named Mark."
Molly nodded quickly in agreement, turning back to her list.
# 147 Consorting with muggles is not allowed.
Wondering how a muggle would find their way into the house (and sincerely pitying one who did), she rolled the scroll and walked to the kitchen.
"Mistress Arasma says Kreacher is a bad house-elf, and Kreacher must stay in the house," the whimpering house-elf answered Molly when she asked about their supper.
"Do you need to leave to make dinner?"
Kreacher twisted his fingers, making Molly wince in anticipation of the popping noise. "No food to make dinner. Nasty girl will have to find food without Kreacher's help." The grubby house-elf blinked in shock, before running out of the room.
Molly sighed, before glancing down at Sirius, who was whispering with a solemn face into Allesandro's ear.
"So," she said, kneeling down to his level. "What do you usually eat around here?"
"Doxies or roaches, when we can find them. But rats are better, and they cook nice and plump in the fireplace." Sirius sighed, looking despondent. "But sometimes, after we go out and torture muggles, daddy gives us chocolate frogs…"
Molly shot up, an appalled grimace flashing across her face. Sirius watched her for a moment, before bursting into giggles.
Huffing, Molly stepped back from him and tugged on her blouse. "Not funny."
Sirius nodded solemnly, before giving her a toothy grin and racing into the other room, screaming "Eurika! Eurika!"
Molly had opened every cabinet and storage room in the grimy kitchen before admitting defeat, opting instead to search out her cousins and make a bit of sense of the mess she'd found herself in.
Pushing open the door from which rather suspicious squeaks were emerging, she sighed as she caught sight of Sirius using a toy wand to poke his brother, Regulus, in the head. The loud squeaks were testimony to the magic Sirius possessed; few children could get the wands to do anything other than shoot weak sparks.
"Hey boys," she said lightly, "Who feels up to an extraordinary Molly Prewett dinner?"
Sirius paused, bright eyes looking inquisitively up. "You mean like cow brains?"
Not one to be shocked by the statements made by the deranged male mind, Molly ignored the bait. "No, I mean like chicken."
Regulus wrinkled his nose, which was one of the first facial reactions Molly had ever seen on the toddler. However, the moment of humanity was soon lost as the small face melted back into odd blankness.
"Well, Allesandro wants gourmet." Sirius pouted, stomping one foot down. "We have to feed Allesandro what he wants, or," the boys voice lowered, "he could make us all disappear." The child straightened. "Can we have pickles and biscuits?"
Shuddering in culinary horror, Molly glanced back down and raised a brow. "Why don't we have spaghetti with fancy noodles? That's gourmet."
Sirius took a moment to contemplate it before nodding.
"Well then," she bent down to lift Regulus, placing him on her hip. "We need to go to the market."
"We can't go to the market, that's where they keep the vampires." Sirius lowered his voice again, holding Allesandro at arms length behind him so he couldn't overhear. "They eat hippogriffs, you know."
"Why would they want hippogriff?"
Sirius just shook his head, walking out the door. She followed, grabbing a few stray galleons off the floor.
She held the floo powder above Sirius, looking suspiciously down at him. He was humming to himself, something that sounded rather like that muggle band called 'Beatles' that muggleborn's raved about.
"You two aren't going to wander off, you hear me?"
Sirius smiled grimly. "Only if the vampires try to eat us." Regulus continued to stare into space.
"Probably they will be more interested in the bigger people."
Sirius looked surprised, as if he'd doubted her ability to show intelligence. "There is more meat on bigger people," he agreed slowly.
"Of course."
Grasping his hand, they flooed to Diagon Alley, coughing in minimal amounts of soot and ending with only minor bruises.
"Hi!" Sirius was staring up at one of the employees at Magpie's Market. It had been a trial-and-error process finding the market, mostly due to Allesandro's intense draw to all prank-related displays. Sirius explained this odd phenomenon as unfortunate, but something one must embrace or be driven mad by. Molly wondered which he'd decided on as she grabbed for Sirius's hand once again.
She missed.
"Do you know where the escargot aisle is?" Without so much as blinking, Sirius continued. "You see, Allesandro just decided to swear off red meats, as well as all fowl. He feels he should be more respectful of his kin."
Face burning as the male—and rather cute—employee stared in mute shock at the boy, she grabbed Sirius's hand successfully and drug him away.
"But he was about to reveal the secret location," Sirius whined, dragging his feet as they stomped down the sauce aisle.
"Sirius, can you get the breadsticks?" Molly asked, pointing several feet away. Sirius nodded before thumping over.
Supposedly, it was a straightforward, foolproof request. The sort of thing Mrs. Prewett had often bade Molly or the twins to do at that age.
Sirius turned a simple request –retrieving breadsticks—into a knock-down, drag out battle of will and strength against a shopping cart and the mean hag who was attached to it, gripping the handles of the bucking cart with fingers like steel claws.
Molly stood, too shocked to say anything, as boy and cart faced off. Allesandro had somehow attached himself to the cursing witch's face. Employees could be seen running from their stations, which always seemed to be in the place of least usefulness. They were still quite distant, though waving their wands around threateningly as they dodged cumbersome displays.
Finally, Regulus made a small squeaking from where he was sitting on her hip, and she took that as her permission to jump into the fray.
It took her several minutes to lift the shopping cart off of Sirius. Relieved that he seemed relatively uninjured, she plucked him off the ground and dumped him behind herself. She then resolved to start lifting weights and running track again.
"I am the conqueror of the evil sorceress Mordrid!"
Sirius poked Regulus's head, supposedly seeking a reaction to his news. Though Regulus moved not a bit, Sirius seemed pleased enough at him and pulled on Molly's blouse, untucking it again.
By this time, the employees –all three of them—had arrived on site and were being cursed at by the witch to whose face Allesandro was still gleefully attached.
Molly didn't know when she started bequeathing the hippogriff with emotions. It just happened.
The younger employee –the one under one hundred and forty– set about placating the woman. She ignored even his best efforts. She finally waved an unsticking charm at the hippogriff, before hurling it across the store. She stood slowly, and Molly suppressed a shudder at the site of her face.
Warts were the first impression. Molly hadn't realized there were actually witches who looked like the muggle versions, but she'd obviously been wrong.
She became worried the hag would magic Sirius away and eat him.
Grabbing for his hand, she hefted Regulus up and decided to flee the store. She could come to grips with this affront to her Gryffindor nature later, when the face of an angry Arasma Black left her mind.
They reached Allesandro, and rescued him from a ruined display of pasta noodles, which she mindfully grabbed a box of before unloading her basket for the bored checkout girl to peruse.
"Ya know that sauce is fattening, right?" A drawling voice brought Molly's head straight up from where she'd been resting it against Regulus's.
"Excuse me?"
"Whatever, I just thought you should know." The rude girl turned back around, before letting out a shriek.
"That sauce is gourmet." Sirius said, scowling up at the girl whose kneecap he'd just bit, judging by the teeth marks.
The girl started to turn purple, so Molly threw the handful of galleons on the table and bolted out the door, Blacks in tow.
Sirius sat calmly, sipping at his cup as Molly slumped in her chair, staring at him. Regulus was still picking at his food, though at least he didn't eat the olives and sausage out of it the way Sirius did. Evidently, Allesandro was less a gourmet then he was a finicky eater.
Sirius, who was short on his way to becoming the newest 'Mad Black,' had calmed down directly after his display at the Market. He'd spent the walk back to the floo at the Leaky Cauldron singing some song about Camelot and three-toed sloths, and had been docilely playing with Allesandro while Molly prepared their dinner.
She'd scolded him for his behavior, but he'd just grinned and clomped happily down Diagon Alley.
A tug on her elbow led her vision down to Regulus, who was standing next to her looking as dazed as ever.
"What's wrong?" She asked, eyes narrowing in confusion. She hadn't even realized Regulus could walk.
"He wants to go to sleep." Sirius said, wandering over to them.
"Oh really," Molly glanced at him, trying to judge if he showed any exhaustion compared to that afternoon.
Sirius nodded, and turned to Regulus. "You'd best go to sleep, or the mummified orangutan might come after you and curse you to shrink to the size of a newt's eyeball."
Molly let out a noise of outrage, grabbing for Sirius before he could spout any more nonsense. To her surprise, Regulus nodded solemnly and turned to leave the room.
Seeing him walk swept away any thought of punishing Sirius. Mother had always said Regulus was a bit slow, but not seeing him walk till he was four was still a little odd.
She saw him to bed. He'd refused her offers of a story, and she would have protested had he not gone to sleep in the fraction of a minute it took her to string the words together.
Tiptoeing down the halls, she nearly shrieked when Sirius appeared in front of her.
"Let's play a game," he asked, eyes lighting grimly in the shadowy hall. He held out his hand when she nodded slowly.
"To the death then," he announced.
Molly began to regret agreeing—again—to one of Sirius's schemes.
Obviously, the boy was insane. Molly realized this when he began to explain the rules of the game, which seemed to include an unusual amount of hammers, an inexplicable jar of peanut butter, and likely illegal usage of house-elf labor.
She was about to intervene and through a damper completely on Phase II of Level IV when Sirius's eyes suddenly changed. He glanced down at his empty hands, and turned in circles, staring at the ground around himself.
"What's the matter?" She asked, curious.
"It's Allesandro…he's not here!"
Evidently, Sirius had forgotten which room was his brothers because he'd managed to go through every room in the house on his way to find Molly. She was beginning to regret her suggestion that they backtrack his steps.
"I know it, I just know I shouldn't have taken him to the market. Now the howling Assyrian vampires have gotten him and I'll never see Allesandro again," He looked up at Molly. "We have to rescue him, then."
Molly checked the clock. With any luck, the Blacks would be back before Sirius booked a portkey out of the country. Unfortunately, knowing the Black reputation as she did their promise to be back at ten was precise….except it meant at ten two months from now.
"Where do you remember having him last?"
Sirius scrunched his nose. "At Andy's birthday party."
Molly blinked. "No, you had him less than an hour ago, remember? He ate your olives."
Sirius shook his head slowly. Molly moved ahead impatiently. This wasn't the first time she'd wandered if Sirius had multiple personality disorder.
"I was just kidding!" Rolling her eyes, Molly stopped and waited for Sirius to catch up.
"But I can't remember where I had him last. I thought he was with me the whole time." Sirius squished up his face, and she could see his eyes were fogging up.
Molly had an idea.
"Hello me heartie…. now what do we have here…" Dread Pirate Molly kneeled next to her giggling prisoner.
She reached past the jumping rope tying Sirius to the column in the great room, tickling him mercilessly yet again.
"Now, I shall tickle thee to a pokerfaced lump and through you to the great ocean denizens," Sirius inhaled in horror, experienced in the manner of roll playing.
"Unless…." She leaned down, staring straight at him with her one eye. "You help me find my crewmate…. the dread bandit Allesandro."
Sirius looked shocked. "He's not a dread bandit, he's a respectable magic hippogriff."
Molly reeled back, clutching at her heart. Sirius giggled. "Do not impute the honor of me mates, ye brigand!"
She leaned back down. "Do we agree?" She held out her hand.
Sirius gripped it. She used her fire poker to 'cut' the bonds. They agreed on a direction, going together since Sirius had decided to cut all the lights and Molly didn't trust the boy with an oil lamp.
"Should we go through the bog of doom," She pointed at Sirius's bedroom, "or should we head closer to the cliffs of Merlin?" She pointed to the stairs.
Sirius stood with his head tilted. Then he pointed up the stairs.
"To the cliffs!" Molly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, grabbed Sirius's hand and raced up the stairs.
They'd searched through the Forest of Despair and had traipsed across the mountains of Merlin before finally coming to the dragon's lair.
A foul stench was arising from it's depths, where Kreacher, the Norwegian Ridgeback, lay sleeping in his horde. Sirius crept closer.
Normally Molly wouldn't have let him bother the elf, but they'd searched through and through the house with no luck. At least he could help their search.
Sirius peeked open the door, glancing in. Molly watched from behind him as Kreacher raised his head. She was about to ask the house-elf's help when Sirius let out a squeal.
"Allesandro!" The six year-old darted into the crawlspace, grabbing his stuffed animal and sticking his tongue at Kreacher. The house-elf glared hatefully at them.
"Mistress always says boy is not to leave toys, but bad boy never listens. Kreacher cleans up after boy."
Molly shook her head, pulling her eye patch off. Sirius grinned at her, before racing off talking rapidly to the hippogriff.
Glaring weakly at the house-elf, Molly shut the cupboard door and wandered to the kitchen. Sirius had managed to get noodles in the strangest places, including stuck to the ceiling and draped over dining room chairs. Which was strange, since they had eaten in the kitchen.
She cleaned up, leaving the dishes for Kreacher or someone who could use a wand. After tripping over an ugly umbrella stand, she climbed the stairs to find Sirius.
"Then the evil house-elf fed the mermaid to the sorceress Mordrid…." Sirius had changed into his pajamas, which were green and likely the Blacks' idea of subliminal brainwashing to prejudice their son in favor of Slytherin.
He was pouring over a notebook, drawing a picture consisting over a blob with evil, hairy ears and a bright red squiggle.
"That's you," Sirius said suddenly, lifting the page to show Molly. He grinned toothily. "It was wicked how you fought the evil dragon."
Molly grinned, and walked to sit next to him. He kept showing her pictures before dozing off. She sat for a moment before lifting and tucking him into the four poster across the room. Tucking the covers in around the boy and Allesandro –who, Molly was beginning to suspect, with the one superstitious cell she had in her body, really was magic—gripped under his arm.
"'Night," She shut the door softly, listening for a moment as Sirius murmured something about pickles in his sleep.
Regulus was sleeping peacefully when the checked on him. After picking up a bit, she walked downstairs. Fabian's head was sitting in the fireplace.
"So…when are you coming home?" He asked, attempting to sound casual.
"Why?" She yawned, suddenly exhausted.
"Well…it's just that mum's been a bit frazzled…"
"What did Arthur ruin now?" She sat up, hoping it wasn't something of hers.
"He wet grandmum's rug," Fabian admitted, suddenly grinning. "When Mum saw it she freaked."
"I bet so," Molly muttered. The door in the kitchen slammed and she jumped up.
Arasma Black hustled into the room just as Fabian's head disappeared; he'd lived in eternal fear of her since the last family reunion when she'd turned his puffskein into a cocktail sausage.
Arasma pointed a bony finger at the floo pot, waving her away. She seemed putout that she saw nothing to yell at Molly about.
Molly hoped Sirius didn't mention anything involving Diagon Alley, Mordrid, or redheaded pirates. Though the way he talked normally, no one would notice.
Dear Molly,
Thank you for coming to see us. Allesandro wanted to say that he found a baby martian in our cellar, and we're gonna raise her. We named her after you.
Salutations,
Sirius Black
Molly laughed, folding the note as the creepy eagle owl drifted out the window and back to the Blacks. Evidently, she had been Sirius's writing homework….the Blacks had always insisted on having their children be polite, though it didn't seem to help them as adults.
She glanced over the letter, amused. Surviving the night before had been a defining moment, and for all the drama she seemed to be better off today then the twins, who had slunk off with Arthur that morning and had yet to return.
She set it casually on her dresser, where it landed flipped. On the back was a red squiggle and two dark blobs, one the house-elf and the other labeled 'Sirius' in the same sprawling writing as the letter.
Chuckling, she folded it back up and stuck it into a drawer.
Well, that was random…..
Review, and I'll send Arthur over to give puppy kisses. Yayness.