Disclaimer: I don't have anything clever to say for this chapter because it's late at night, so I'll just say it: I don't own anything you recognize from J.K. Rowling's books.

A/N: Oh my goodness you have NO idea how sorry I am for this long delay! I've been so terribly busy that I just haven't had time! Teachers think it's fun to give us lots and lots of homework, so I've just been so preoccupied. Anyway, here's the extremely long-awaited chapter three! Sorry it's not very long. I figured you'd rather I just get it out instead of dragging it on and on. So here it is! Happy Reading!

Chapter Three: Hidden Lessons in Quidditch

Keira's POV

When Ron came up with the brilliant idea to take Aria to a Quidditch game at dinner, he failed to remember that we also happen to have two twelve-year-old boys who are absolutely obsessed with Quidditch as well. He also forgot that last-minute Quidditch tickets cost a lot more than tickets bought even a couple days in advance. Besides, with two big favorites like the Holyhead Harpies and Ireland playing, the tickets are most likely sold out already.

When I bring this up as we get ready for bed, he simply glares at me. "What do you want me to do now, Keira? 'Oh, I'm sorry, Aria. Yes, I know I promised you that we'd go to a Quidditch game, but Keira here thinks it costs too much money to take Sean and Jake, and we can't go without them, so I'm sorry, but we're going to have to sit this one out.' You really want me to say that to her?" he snaps.

"Of course not," I say indignantly. "But you know you can't take Aria without taking Jake and Sean. It would be like taking Henry to your mum's without taking Abby."

"I understand that," he says through clenched teeth. "I am planning on taking all three of them."

"And do you plan to sneak in as well?" I snap. He rolls his eyes and throws his t-shirt in the general direction of the clothes hamper. By some unreasonable stroke of luck it sails right in.

"There will still be tickets," he assures me, pulling the bedding back and sitting down on the old mattress wearily.

"And what if there aren't?" I ask, flinging myself down on the bed beside him. "What are you going to tell Aria?"

"I'll tell her that next time, we'll get tickets early," he answers with a shrug.

"You don't think she'll be a little disappointed? She might not show it, Ron, but she's looking forward to this! How's she going to feel if you can't get in?" I ask, trying to get him to see reason.

"We'll do something else then. I'll take her and Jake and Sean out back and we'll play some Quidditch of our own – it'll be just as fun."

I shake my head and get under the covers. "I think you should have thought a little more carefully before you offered to take your daughter to a Quidditch game," I inform him, lying down and turning away from him.

"Oh, so now she's my daughter?" he rages. "What happened to treating Aria like she belongs here?"

"I'm trying, Ronald!" I say, sitting up again and turning to him in exasperation. "I love her like she's my own daughter, and I'm trying to show her that she's perfectly welcome here. I want her to see that, but she just doesn't! All she does is push me away!"

Ron turns to me, a look of outrage on his face. "Her mum is dead, Keira! You really expect her to just pick up and move on? It's only been three weeks! She doesn't want a new mum!" he says angrily.

"I realize that," I reply calmly. "I'm just saying that I wish she would at least acknowledge me instead of ignoring me all the time."

"She's mourning. Her mum just died!"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I say. I hate arguing with him. I love him so much, but sometimes I wish he would just shut up and admit he's wrong instead of turning something small into a giant argument that escalades into not speaking to each other for days.

"So that's how you solve a problem?" he sneers. "You just pretend it isn't happening?"

His words sting because he knows that's not what it is. He just can't lose gracefully.

"Ron, just stop," I say softly, turning away from him again. I can feel his outraged stare on the back of my head

"Keira…" he says hesitantly, and I can feel his fingertips brush my shoulder uncertainly. He's never been so great at apologies either.

"Ron, I love you, alright? I just want what's best for our family – including Aria. Is it so wrong to be a little concerned?" I ask, facing him somewhat reluctantly. His face is caught between apologetic and annoyed. It's actually kind of cute.

"No," he admits at last. "You're probably right." Probably. He could never just admit that he was wrong. He's too damn stubborn. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him.

"So, what if there aren't any tickets left?" I ask softly, knowing it's probably really stupid to bring this up again after the conversation we just had, but if I don't ask now I never will.

"I'll feel like the worst father in the world," he mutters, and I feel guilt wash over me instantly.

"Oh, Ron," I sigh, reaching out to him. He shakes his head at me and puts his head in his hands.

"Why am I so bad at this?" he asks softly.

"So bad at what?" I ask, confused.

"At being a father to Aria," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"It could be because you've never had an almost-twelve-year-old daughter before," I suggest, half joking. He doesn't smile.

"Is it really that different from two twelve-year-old boys?" he asks.

"Yes," I say firmly, and he glances at me for an explanation. "As little kids, the main difference between girls and boys is that boys are more interested in bugs and snakes and mud, and girls are more interested in dolls and stuffed animals," I start, and he rolls his eyes, obviously bored by this.

"But an eleven-year-old – almost twelve-year-old – girl matures a lot faster than a twelve-year-old boy. Girls start thinking about clothes and make-up and boys. Boys are still stuck on bugs and snakes and mud – and Quidditch of course. You tell a boy you'll take him to a Quidditch game, and then cancel, he'll be a little disappointed, sure. But you can take him "out back" as you said, and play some Quidditch with him, and he won't even remember that you were supposed to go to a match."

"And a girl?" Ron asks, paying attention now.

"You tell a girl you're going to take her somewhere – anywhere fun – and she's going to look forward to it for days – weeks even. If you suddenly cancel, she's going to be disappointed, and she's going to remember it no matter how many backyard games you play with her. The next time you ask her to go to a Quidditch match, she's going to say yes of course, but she's going to remember how you canceled on her last time, and she's going to be bracing herself for disappointment."

"Are all eleven-year-old girls like that? Because if Abby's going to be like that in about six years, I'm not sure I want her to grow up," Ron says with a small smile. I smile back, glad that his mood has improved slightly.

"Well maybe not all eleven-year-old girls. I was certainly like that though. And I don't know her very well, but I think I see a little bit of that in her as well. I know she looked excited when you asked her if she wanted to go to a Quidditch game," I tell him.

"Great," he mutters. "Now she's going to hate me."

"She won't," I say with a smile, standing and going over to the fireplace with some Floo Powder. "Matthias Jordan, Head of Magical Games and Sports, owes me a favor."

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Ron's POV

"Go Cooper, go! Come on!" Jake shouts as one of Ireland's Chasers races toward the goal. One of Holyhead's Chasers is hot on his tail, just looking for the perfect opportunity to knock the Quaffle out of his hands and straight into another Holyhead Chaser's arms down below them.

Jake and Sean are leaning precariously over the edge of the railing of the top box – where Keira miraculously managed to get us tickets for today – screaming at Andrew Cooper.

Aria is standing at the railing as well, gripping the bar so tightly her knuckles are white. Her face is a mask of complete awe and excitement. It's so hard to believe she's never been to a professional Quidditch game before. I took Sean and Jake to their first match when they were younger than Abby.

This is Abby's first Quidditch game too. Keira wouldn't let me bring Henry because she didn't want to come, and she didn't think I could take care of Henry and Abby while simultaneously making sure Jake and Sean didn't fall out of the box to their deaths all by myself.

Abby squirms in my arms, wanting to get up near the railing with her big brother and sister (and honorary brother Jake). I take a couple steps toward the edge, but stop a few paces behind the boys and Aria. Abby squirms some more, complaining loudly. Aria turns toward her to see what all the fuss is about, and Abby reaches out her hands eagerly.

Aria looks up at me questioningly. I shrug and hand Abby to her. She probably won't be able to hold her for more than a few minutes anyway, but if Abby wants Aria, she's going to get Aria. I'm not going to hold a squealing four-year-old.

"C'mon Johnson!" Sean screams at the third Holyhead Chaser. I smile to myself when I realize that it's Angelina Johnson. I almost forgot that she plays professionally.

"What are you cheering for them for?" Jake demands when Sean whoops as Angelina scores for the Harpies.

"I don't have to cheer for Ireland if I don't want to," Sean retorts hotly. "Besides, I like Holyhead."

"I don't," Jake mutters sourly. I roll my eyes at them. Aria catches this and she grins at me. I smile back automatically, and she turns back to watch the game. Abby is still clinging to her, her eyes wide as the players whip back and forth faster than she can keep track of them. When the Irish supporters erupt in cheers because Cooper scores for Ireland, Abby claps along too.

"That's right," Jake says, noticing her. "You're a good little Irish supporter, aren't you?" Abby nods and smiles. Sean rolls his eyes.

"You boys are so strange," I sigh, making room for myself between Aria and Sean. Jake and Sean both look up at me with looks of protest, but when they see I'm joking, they let it go.

"Daddy, look!" Abby squeals as Ireland's Seeker, Jennica Donnelly goes into a steep dive. Holyhead's Seeker catches on right away and is soon hot on her tail.

"Go, Donnelly, go!" Jake roars, pounding his fists on the railing.

"Go, Donley, go!" Abby mimics, waving her hands in the air excitedly.

"Come on Harding!" Sean groans at the other Seeker. "Can't you go any faster on that outdated Firebolt?"

I laugh at his outraged shout. "You should have seen that broom go when it first came out," I tell him. "Fastest broom in the world, that was. Harry got one the year it came out."

"Cool," Sean says, obviously unimpressed and not listening. He's clutching the railing and leaning so far out over it that I'm almost afraid he'll fall. I grab him by his collar and haul him back.

The Seekers are neck-and-neck now, glaring at each other and slamming into one another to get the other out of the way. I barely spot a glint of gold down near the ground. The dive becomes steeper.

"Come on, Donnelly!" Jake screams at the exact same time as Sean yells, "Come on Harding!" They look at each other and scowl before looking back at the pitch with renewed vigor.

Everyone is on their feet now, screaming and stomping at the two Seekers. Donnelly slams into Harding hard enough to send him veering off course for just a few seconds. Those few seconds give Jennica the advantage she needed. She surges forward with a giant burst of speed and seizes the snitch triumphantly, pulling out of her dive just in time to avoid slamming headfirst into the ground. Jake cheers.

"YES!" he screams.

"Damn," Sean mutters. I pat him on the shoulder.

"Just a game, son," I tell him with a smile. It's a very old joke, but it always makes him laugh.

"Tell that to the Holyhead Harpies," he says with a grin.

The Ireland fans are screaming and shouting with joy, while Holyhead supporters are hanging their heads in defeat and forking over bets to Ireland supporters.

"Yay, Ireland!" Abby says, clapping her hands with delight. I smile at her.

"You," I tell her, lifting her out of Aria's arms, "are silly." I tickle her, and she giggles hysterically.

"Yay, Ireland!" she says again, still laughing.

"Yay Ireland," Jake agrees with a grin. Sean smiles and rolls his eyes at Aria, but she's not watching our little exchange. Her eyes are still fixed on the Quidditch pitch, watching as the Ireland players are carried away on the shoulders of their screaming fans.

"You okay?" I ask her, handing Abby to Jake. She looks at me with a sad smile.

"How could Mum not have liked this sport?" she asks softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's amazing."

"She didn't dislike it," I tell her. "But it wasn't everything to her. When Gryffindor won at school, she was pleased, sure. But if we lost, she didn't see what the big deal was." Aria looks outraged at the idea.

"Not a big deal?" she asks incredulously. I laugh. She sounds just like me when I was in school.

"Your mum was more interested in her education than in a sport that could very well kill you," I say with a smile. She smiles back slightly.

"I miss her so much," she whispers, looking down at her hands. I put an arm around her shoulders and hug her.

"I know," I murmur into her hair, kissing the side of her head. She leans against me and sighs. "I know."

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Keira's POV

"How was the game?" I ask casually, not even looking up when Ron and the kids come into the kitchen.

"Awesome," Jake says instantly.

"Holyhead lost," Sean says sadly.

"Yay Ireland!" Abby cheers, clapping her hands together. I smile at her as she wraps herself around my leg.

"Well aren't you cute," I tell her. She grins up at me.

"Did you enjoy the game, Aria?" I ask her, noticing that she's hanging back slightly. She looks at me and shrugs before turning around and going upstairs. I hold back a sigh. It's so hard to be a mother to a girl that doesn't want one.

Jake and Sean look over their shoulders at the staircase with slightly worried looks on their faces.

"She's fine," Ron says firmly. "She's just tired, that's all."

None of us believe him, but the boys let it go. Abby runs off to find her little brother, and the boys start up the stairs somewhat reluctantly, not speaking to each other, still looking concerned.

"So how is she really?" I ask Ron as he gets a glass of water. He looks at me over the rim of the glass with raised eyebrows.

"I told you she's fine," he says. I roll my eyes.

"I know she's not fine. What's wrong?" I persist.

"Maybe you don't remember that her mum died," he snarls, slamming the cup down on the counter. Water splashes all over the counter and the floor.

"I do remember that, Ronald," I say, getting annoyed. Why can't he just drop this already?

"Well then maybe you should just leave her alone. She needs time to get over it! Don't push her. She needs more time. Besides, you aren't her mother, so you should probably stop trying to pretend you are," he says coldly, walking out of the kitchen without looking at me. I watch him go in shock.

I don't follow him. I know better than to start a screaming match – I'll probably lose. I stare after him, still stunned. Of all the things he could have said – of all the words he could have chosen instead of those words – he had to say the one thing he knew would be exactly like a good hard slap in the face.

I love Ron – I've loved him practically since we first met. And I understand that sometimes he just can't stop himself from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. But other times he deliberately says hurtful things just to get a rise out of me. Like now for instance.

Aria obviously doesn't want a new mum – I understand that. I'm not trying to be her mum. I just wish she'd treat me with a little respect. I may not be her mother, but I'm still in charge – this is still my house! She still has to listen to what I say – obey my rules. She could at least make an effort to be nice to me – it isn't like what happened is my fault.

And Ron doesn't need to say that to make me see it. I've never pretended I was Aria's mum, and I'm never planning to.

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Aria's POV

I can't concentrate on anything. The tension in this house is too thick. I set aside the book I've been trying to read for the last hour. I've only gotten two pages read. It's so hard to focus that I've just been reading the same sentences over and over and over, but nothing has registered yet. I'm not even sure what the main character's name is.

I glance outside. The sun is sitting low in the sky, getting ready to set. The sky is streaked with red and orange and gold, coloring my room with the strangest mixture of colors. It's so beautiful. It's the kind of sunset Mum would take me out into the backyard to watch when I was really little. We'd take out a picnic blanket and lie in the grass together as the sun set, streaking the sky with the prettiest colors I'd ever seen. We stopped doing that when I turned ten and decided I was too cool to hang out with my mum and have her tuck me in.

I sigh and draw my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees and resting my chin on top of my arms. Sometimes, I can almost forget that she's gone. I can enjoy myself and it's almost like she's still alive, but she's just not there. And sometimes – like now for instance – I can just feel this heavy weight on my chest pressing down, and I miss her so much I have to cry.

As the sun sinks down in the sky, I can't help but feel like she's somewhere nearby, watching me. Somewhat instinctively, I turn my head. I know it's stupid, but I feel a stab of disappointment when I only see my bookcase and my chair in the corner there.

There's a hesitant knock on my door and I sight softly. "Come in," I call, turning around and rearranging my expression carefully.

"Hey. I think we need to talk."

A/N: Dun, dun DUNN! Who is it? Who's at the door? Is it Keira? Is it Ron? Jake? ABBY? Ok, it's not Abby. But who is it??? Oooh… lol, thanks for reading! Please review! Cheers, Megz