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moon_peonies [userpic]
While parents are away, the children will play.
by moon_peonies (moon_peonies)
at September 24th, 2007 (11:39 am)

(OOC: Did we ever divide the children? Anyway, the art I used for the Albus Severus avatar is not mine. I wish I could draw half as well!)

While the grown-ups did boring things like talk, the kids were not in fact torturing the neighbour's cat as Ron had feared. Instead, James was merely torturing his little brother Albus Severus in that sadistic way that only siblings can achieve without being reported to the Human Rights Watch. It was almost heart-warming to watch Al grow tired of it and shove James into the ground, kicking him dangerously near his goolies.

So what if it was hurting a man while he was down? James was a lot bigger!

Lily scampered after Al. She seemed to take turns being attached to her siblings in some particular order and this summer it had been Albus Severus. Maybe it was because he identified with her fears of starting school. Despite being sorted safely into Gryffindor, Al still took quite a bit of teasing from his classmates by being cautious friends with Scorpius Malfoy. They had bonded over stupid names.

"What's it like?" bellowed Lily for the umpteenth time. She had asked Al that question about sixty times this week, in the most random situations. Just when he was out of the shower, while they were watching two birds attack a rabbit, as their mother accidentally turned their bowl into a duck when she tripped over a broomstick - this time might be the most inconvenient of all.

"It's. Very. Nice!" panted Al as he skidded about, James hot on his trail and Rose calling for a truce. The Weasley yard was large, mainly for preservation of the house itself. Ron and Hermione needed somewhere the kids could play because if they felt the need to be cooped up inside all year round, the house might collapse. Hugo and Rose made quite enough mess and in the summer, their cousins were over almost every day along with Harry and Ginny. The lawn stretched on forever, abruptly meeting brown fence and it was cluttered with clutches of small, gnarled trees and fascinating bushes. Mowing it wasn't so bad, the children trampled the grass into almost nonexistence sometimes.

"How nice?" asked Lily, as Albus Severus was tackled to the ground.

"Very - uh - nice!" called Al with consumate patience. James paused in twisting his arm.

"That's - right," he panted. "Very - nice. Cry - uncle," he told Al.

"Nuuhh-no!" yelped Al, kneeing James in the back.

"Tell me about your friends," said Lily, unrelentingly.

"Get offa him!" shrilled Rose. "And use other adjectives besides 'nice' to answer Lily. Mummy would have a cow at your language." Far worst to have very little vocabulary than to be vulgar, Hermione felt.

moon_peonies [userpic]
Of Near-Confessions and Crying.
by moon_peonies (moon_peonies)
at September 21st, 2007 (10:47 am)

The clutter of the hall provoked a grin from Ginny as she and Hermione left the dining room and their husbands. There were dozens of shoes – with no partner in sight, bookmarks scattered, books with dogeared pages, and a huge lime-green frog. Ginny remembered that she’d given that to Rose as a joke present. The two women entered the living room and settled on the couch. Someone – the house-elf probably – had set down two steaming cups of tea and a plate of sliced fruit.

Ginny smiled at Hermione – or rather, the slight bulge of Hermione’s stomach. “Me, I want lots of nieces and nephews. Harry’s almost the same way,” she said. “He always thought that we had the perfect family. I’m sure he wants lots of kids.” Moving her eyes at and staring at Hermione’s round, glowing face, Ginny felt a sudden pang. The words rushed out of her mouth almost before she had them formed in her head, “Hermione, don’t you rather dread the day that all the kids are in Hogwarts? It’s going to be so weird with the house all empty and just the two of you alone again, isn’t it? I mean, what are you going to talk about with Ron?”

In just a few weeks now, Lily and Rose, Al and James and Hugo, they would all be boarding the large, steaming red train to Hogwarts again. Ginny felt her stomach curdle with dread at the thought of having no one at the table besides herself and Harry. No cheerful chatter, no laugh-provoking questions or stories to dam up abrupt silences. No tears for her to wipe away while Harry looked at her lovingly – Harry only looked at her lovingly when she was doing something for the children, it seemed. And without the children, Ginny wouldn’t be able to use exhaustion as an excuse when bedtime came.

An excuse Harry accepted all too readily and used himself at times.

Ginny realised that her eyes were threatening to overflow and that the tip of her nose might be brick red. Hermione couldn’t know, she mustn’t suspect. If she knew, if Ron knew... “It’s just,” Ginny sniffled, “I’m going to miss the kids so much.”

moon_peonies [userpic]
Of Dinners and Darning Needles (well, not really. But alliteration calls for it)
by moon_peonies (moon_peonies)
at August 20th, 2007 (02:28 pm)
current mood: creative

Ron Weasley puttered about the living room, ignoring the casual, cheery chaos that grew and grew until Hermione snapped and went on a cleaning rampage that had an effect for about 0.2 seconds. The largest room in the Weasley house was an airy place with lucridously mismatched furniture: lime green pillows, huge capacious couches that sucked you into feathery softness, books, magazines and toys everywhere.

Ron had changed very little over the years. He was as lanky and lean as ever, though his red hair had darkened so it could almost be called auburn without your nose growing a couple inches. His freckles spread like a milky way across his face and his blue eyes were as humorous as ever. There was, however, a new sort of gentleness to his face; the look of a man with just about all his heart could desire, short of his Quidditch team winning the World Cup.

There was a sputtering noise and the large fireplace seemed to quiver.

Ron straightened, alert and grinning. "Hermione," he bellowed. "Oi, you kids! C'mere, your auntie Ginny and uncle Harry and their little terro- your cousins, are here!"

There was a sound that could only be described as a kerfuffle as Hugo and Rose flew down the stairs and collided with one another.

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