Year: August 23, 2008
Canonicity: canon to "The Mudblood"
POV: first person, Lainey Fitzroy
Notes: some of the events in this chapter are canon to the HP universe but I've moved them from happening in 1999 to happening now in 2008
"Alvie, don't drag your book through the mud." I stopped pushing the twins' stroller to bend down and readjust the oversized book that probably weighed half as much as the almost-three-year-old. Once her arms were wrapped around it in a hug, we continued down the path toward the Quidditch stadium.
In the three months since officially quitting my job at the Ministry and becoming a stay-at-home-mum, I felt like I was constantly surrounded by more children than I could handle. It definitely gave me an increased appreciation for Molly Weasley, who'd somehow been disappointed that my twins didn't need to join her chaotic nursery.
To be fair, having all the Weasley-Potter cousins grow up alongside each other was a unique opportunity. I often brought my twins over to the Burrow to dwell in the mayhem and hopefully learn more from mischievous James than goody-two-shoes Rose. Teddy tagged along for the summer months, spending most of his time there playing board games with Dominique and stealing bashful glances at Victoire from afar.
Now my son trudged behind me along the rocky path from the nearby village to Ilkley Moor, where the British and Irish Quidditch League had erected and magically cloaked a ginormous stadium for the final match of the yearly tournament. Ashley's team would play their worst rivals, and since she and her manager had traveled here a day early, I was stuck babysitting her kid and her husband.
"Greg, slow down or push this for me," I called to where he walked fifteen paces ahead. Though Rookwood had charmed the twins' stroller tires to roll smoothly despite the terrain, I was still struggling to force the weight up this hill.
"Sorry, got distracted by the clouds," Greg mumbled, taking the handles to push for me even though I didn't quite trust him with my babies.
"Do you want me to hold your book for you?" I offered to Alvie, who shook her head.
"Mum lets me read if I carry," she said, almost as articulate as my nephew James. "Good exercise for Quidditch."
"Of course it is." I sighed and checked on Teddy, who'd straggled too far back, crouching to collect stones. "Ted, you don't need all those rocks."
"But they're all so perfect for my rock family." He staggered to his feet, jean pockets sagging with rocks. "Just imagine if I paint the top of this cranky one blond, it'll look just like Uncle Draco."
"How can you tell it's cranky?" I asked as he caught up to me and Alvie.
"Look at its face, it looks just like Uncle Draco whenever he sees you."
I squinted and indeed glimpsed a semblance of annoyance in its ridges. "Yeah, you're right, you need to keep that one. But let's hurry, all right? We don't want to miss the start of the match."
Teddy picked up his pace, and Alvie somehow matched it, probably due to the bloody exercise routines Ashley had already thrust upon her. As a group we reached the stadium's entrance and waited in the queue.
"Wands in the cauldron," one of the security guards droned over the chatter. My heart soared toward my throat as everyone obediently heeded the command.
"What's going on?" I demanded once we reached the cauldron. Greg tossed in his wand without a thought, but I grabbed his sleeve before he continued onward with the twins.
