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Velveteen
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"Night has come, to hold us young..."
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Outside of The Heights, as Luna so fondly called the house, the countryside was pale and shadowy under the starlight. Night breezes blew whispering through the tall trees in the woods, while the lake lapped against the pebbly shore and reflected the stars up to illuminate the water. Against this mirror of the night sky two lithe silhouettes were running, their feet pounding in muggle trainers softly against the dirt road that led away from the large house. They ran until the lakeshore curved off away from the road and the tree-line began, at which point they left the road to cross over the cool, bluish grass. Slipping under the trees, their feet took them down familiar paths through pines, beeches and sycamores, until they found themselves under one especially huge oak where they stopped, catching their breaths.
"Remind me again, why we do this?" Rod asked his twin as he leaned back against the tree, the scratchy, gnarly bark snagging on his faded old jumper. Beside him Rodmilla was far more jovial, the wind catching up her wispy whipped hair as she walked around the tree, clearly looking for something. She looked rather ragamuffin as well, in faded, nearly-outgrown denim, patched knees and fingerless gloves. This was also part of their September's Eve rite.
"Because," Rodmilla said gaily, finding her quarry with a triumphant grin, and tugging down the rope-ladder with gusto, "It's tradition!"
"And it's i fun /i ," A third voice joined them from the shadows, coming forward from the opposite direction of The Heights. Rodmilla heard her brother suck in his breath for one unguarded moment, and she grinned, watching as her best friend joined them under the tree. Oubliette Lestrange was all pale skin and wavy dark brown hair that fell down her back, her green eyes shining with a devious smile, and she was probably the only thing on earth that made Rodrigue Nott come unhinged. She too was dressed in old play clothes, patched corduroy and a scarf round her neck.
"But," Rod finally managed, "They all know we're out here. So really, it is a non-secret secret tradition."
"Which means we won't get in trouble for being out late the night before we leave for England," Oubliette reached out and mussed Rod's mop of blonde hair, "Shall we then, my fellow nursery mates?" The slightly older girl asked of them in a secretive way. Rod slowly smiled back, reaching up to climb the old rope-ladder first and make sure it was still steady, before he would let the girls follow...
The treehouse had been built one summer years ago, when Theodore had been sent to do work in New Zealand. Rod and Rodmilla had both been ten years old then, listless and anxious for something to brighten their time. Thus, Luna had taken it upon herself to have the treehouse built in the woods, far enough away from the main house for the children to feel independent, yet close enough for safety. It was a lovely blue little building charmed to adjust as the tree grew around it, with thick walls and a roof that kept out rain and snow. Many a summer night had been spent in that tree, there being enough room for a hammock for every child and small deck with chairs among the leafy green branches outside.
It was onto this deck the three grown teenagers now climbed, pulling the rope ladder up behind them. They had to duck their heads slightly to get in now, but the inside felt as big and wild as it ever had. Oubliette at once sat down on one of the dusty musty cushions strewn all over the floor for just such a purpose, upsetting the sleeping object that had been occupying the space.
"Hey," Oubliette picked up the dearly loved and slightly rusty family pet, "Who left the tin in the treehouse?" Heathcliff was a biscuit tin that had once been an Armadillo and got stuck transfigured between forms, procured by their mum in her Hogwarts years. He had outlived every cat, dog and parakeet to ever enter the home, and he was better behaved than any of them had ever been. However, sometimes he tended to get left places...
"Oh, Alex probably carried him up and forgot him," Rodmilla sighed, sitting down cross-legged across from her best friend and reaching over to pet the tin. Rod took a seat against the wall opposite the doorway, and with the hammocks swinging high above their heads; the three friends began their meeting.
"I can't believe this is my last night before school," Oubliette said softly into the darkness, as they all took a moment to sit. Oubby wasn't all that much older than the twins in the grand scheme of things. When it came to school, however, birth order had dictated that she be a year ahead of them. Thus, she was entering her seventh year while Rod and Rodmilla entered their sixth. Oubliette's mother often joked that her daughter inherited her fondness for notable age gaps in romantic entanglements. Not that anything concrete had yet developed between Rod and Oubby, but the fondness had been there practically since they were toddlers...
"I can't believe it either," Her best friend sighed, petting Heathcliff sadly, "The common room will not be the same..." Rod said nothing for a while though. He simply looked at Oubliette through his curtain of blonde hair, blue eyes meeting green for a long moment. She took in a deep breath, shaking her head and putting on a smile,
"First things first," Oubliette said brightly, pulling out her wand and lighting the lantern that hung from the ceiling high above. When that was done, Rodmilla twisted around to open the ancient, weather-worn trunk to her left, which had been a treasure chest for childhood rubbish for as long as they could remember. Pushing aside the water-damaged notebooks and not-so-secret letters about not-so-secret meetings, she dug up the small book that rested on the very bottom.
Setting the old book on her lap, Rodmilla looked at the other two teenagers with a mischievous smirk on her lips, "Nursery mates, do sign yourselves in?"
"Oh honestly," Rod sighed, as Oubliette giggled, "Aren't we a little too old for this part of it?" This earned him dramatic gasps and looks of shock from his peers,
"Why, that is the very reason we keep doing this!" Oubliette sighed, "Every day, every where, everyone (save your mum and my mum) reminds us that we are to be 'adults' now, with seventeen looming ahead..."
"Or in your case, just behind," Rodmilla added, and her best friend nodded,
"Exactly," She grinned, "What was it your mum told us once, Rod? The night has come, to hold us young?"
"...Sounds like something she'd say," Rod sighed, clearly unable to say no to both his twin and his Dulcinea. He reached over and rested his hand on the book with a roll of the eyes, he recited, "Timothy The Lion does hereby swear himself in to this meeting of the Nursery..."
"That's more like it," Oubliette giggled, resting her hand on top of his and blushing just slightly, "Velveteen Rabbit does hereby swear herself in to this meeting of the Nursery."
"Hand-touchers," Rodmilla grinned, before setting her own hand atop theirs, "Good Faery does hereby swear herself in to this meeting of the Nursery, meeting hereby called into order!" She cleared her throat a few times, "Now, in the interest of never growing up and carrying on the Lunacy our mums have brought us up with, we read from the book that contains all knowledge..."
"She does this so well," Oubby giggled. Rodmilla flipped her long strawberry hair back over her shoulder in a highly pleased manner, before opening the book and reading,
"There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid," She read, in a clear drifty voice that was not unlike her mother's, "He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming..."
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Author's Notes: More to come soon! Especially from those not quite as well-off...