Magical Days - Pottertalia

The Visit

"All was well."

Chapter One

3... 2... 1...
And he was (finally) eleven. The past year had seemed to go so slow, Arthur had no idea what was going on, he'd lost a lot of people he cared for, friends, family, because he somehow made things happen he didn't mean to. He had one friend who was a lot like him, a clever boy, bad at showing his emotions, but clever. And exactly in the same situation at him. His friend, Lukas, had a younger brother, Emil, who had the same gift, curse, whatever you want to call it.

"Happy Birthday, Kirkland," said Arthur, mocking Donald's voice at himself. "That all your years may be as shitty."

"Arthur," said a soft voice through the door, "Have you stayed up all evening, dear?"

"I might've," replied Arthur.

"You should go to sleep," said his mother, "You have a long day coming up."

"Yes, mom, I know," said Arthur, "I was just going to go to sleep anyway."

"Alright, dear," smiled his mother, and turned around to leave. Arthur let out a sigh and laid down on his stomach, closing his eyes, but sleep simply didn't seem to come. He wasn't even tired.

It got later and later, but Arthur still couldn't sleep. He reached for the book next to his bed, sighing, and turned on his light. He flipped to the page he last read, and began reading.

Two hours later, he fell asleep on his book, to get one and a half hour of sleep before waking up again.
Well, let's go downstairs, then... he thought and got up, put on a shirt, slipped on his slippers, and tip-toed through the corridor, and down the stairs.

And now what?

Arthur took his tablet and earplugs and began listening to music. He smiled a bit, listening to the words of the song, mouthing along with them. He closed his eyes and waited for his parents to get downstairs, even though it was only six o'clock.

It was almost four hours later his father came downstairs.

"Arth-ur.." he yawned. Arthur didn't hear through his music. "How long've ye been 'wake? Arthur? Arthur, take out those things, 'm talkin' te ye."

"Dad! Hello, I didn't hear you. What did you say?" asked Arthur politely.

"I asked how long ya've been 'wake."

"Way too long," sighed Arthur, "I barely slept either."

"Ah, sucks," said his dad, smiling sympathetically. "Bad start o' yer eleventh birthday, ain't it? Let's just hope the rest gets better."

"It's all we can do," shrugged Arthur, "Hope."

"Ye get it," said his dad, sitting down next to him.

"Is mom awake yet?" asked Arthur, looking up at the older man, who shook his head. "Ye know her, always sleeps 'til twelve." Arthur laughed and agreed, his mother could never get out of bed before ten, and usually slept even later.

"Ye want s'methin' ter eat?" smiled his father, and Arthur replied with a nod.

"Bacon 'n eggs?" asked his father, to which Arthur replied with a "Yes, please", before his father got up to prepare the breakfast.

Ten minutes later, Arthur had a plate with bacon and eggs on his lap, and had decided to watch his favourite show, Doctor Who. Muttering all sorts of comments to himself ("No, Rose, don't go in there..."), he had attention for only the TV when his mother entered the room, her messy, blond hair lining her tired face, the green nightgown draping around her loosely. She yawned and greeted her son and husband with a tired smile.