Amycus Carrow and the Shriveled Orange
A/N: Happy birthday, Maisie! This is just a little something I wrote to celebrate your special day.
It began like any other day. The sun was shining brightly on the world below, the birds were chirping away in their nests, and Amycus was dangling his tongue over the side of the playpen.
He'd been left in charge of his sister's son, Severus Junior, while Alecto went to the market. However, he hadn't the slightest idea what he was doing, and quickly received a smack from his older sibling for trying to entertainment the child with his tongue.
"That's disgusting!" exclaimed Alecto, hitting her brother with a rolled up newspaped. "I'll not have you slobbering all over my infant son."
"But the Maisie seems to enjoy it," said Amycus, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head where his sister thwacked him.
"Of course she does. Your favorite pass time is getting mushy in the den while I'm trying to build a rice tower. But could you imagine what those sniffy old ladies would think if they saw my son dragging his tongue all over the sidewalk?"
"Since when do you care what they think?" Amycus queried, now seeming rather confused.
"I don't!" Alecto shouted, stomping her foot and firmly planting her hands on her hips. "I just don't want another reason for them to start lecturing me. Now you watch him while I'm gone and dont let me catch you wagging your tongue at him." She then turned and headed out the door, leaving Amycus alone with her son.
Amycus looked at the infant and shrugged. He unrolled his tongue and flopped it over the side of the playpen, much to the delight of baby Severus, who giggled and cooed when his babysitter made funny noises.
After a while Amycus started getting hungry and decided that he wanted some lunch. He strolled over to the kitchen, made himself a couple sandwiches, and tossed some oranges into the playpen.
'If he's anything like his mother, he'll enjoy playing with produce,' Amycus mused. However, he didn't consider what might happen if the child developed a habit of biting things.
Once the child was alone with his fruit, he began rolling them across the padded floor of his playpen. He squealed with delight when the colorful orbs bounced off the wall, and drooled over their fragrant forms when they stopped at his feet.
His pudgy little fingers curled around the closest orange, picking it up and bringing it to his mouth. The child only had one tooth, but that didn't stop him from sinking his tooth into the orange and sucking out the juice.
He sucked and sucked until the orange was a shrivelled husk lying on the floor. If Les had seen it, she would have been proud of the little sucker. He then reached for another orange, gurgling as he stuffed it into his mouth, and proceeded to suck it dry.
By the time Alecto had returned from the market, her son had sucked the juice out of all four oranges, their withered skins scattered across the floor of the playpen.
She was pleased to see that Amycus had given him something to play with other than his tongue. Though she wasn't at all happy with her son's new habit of sucking her produce dry.
"It's the Dementor's fault," she said, lifting her son and holding him against her chest. "She's a bad influence on him. Next thing you know he'll be learning to talk and giving his first lecture."