With Harry Potter being the Chosen One and Hermione Granger being the Brightest Witch of Her Age, it didn't come off as a surprise when Ronald Weasley was dubbed as the Other One. After all, he didn't resemble them in those respects. Merlin, even hi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
CLACKETY-RACKETING SOUNDS ECHOED THROUGHTHE HOUSEHOLD. Twenty days have passed since Arty Lyons was adopted and the parents cannot seem to catch a break. Whether it was the sink clogging, or having to replace the seventeenth plate that was shattered that week, it was evident that Nod and Oren deserved a rest—or a vacation. It could have been a reality if the windows would quit their clangor.
Nod cursed the weather under his breath. Non-stop storms have greeted October, which leads to his crankiness over the lack of sleep that he has been getting. However, it appears that the rest didn't share in the said problem, leaving him the only one to have to suffer through it. He peered over his side to witness his husband, out like a light. Nights like these, one would assume that an infant would be crying their eyes out, yet, the babe was in deep slumber as well.
Supposedly, I ought to be grateful, Nod thought to himself as he shuffled out of their bedroom and attempted to remain on the positive side, I have a kind-hearted partner and a stable job. Most importantly, Arty has proven herself to be an easy child; No degree of harsh weather can ever change that.
Although, there was something special about his daughter that he couldn't place his finger on. While it wasn't out of the ordinary for Scotland to be experiencing such conditions, especially during the end of the year, he couldn't ignore the times when the rays of the sun were kissing his skin and seconds later, strong gusts of wind showed up out of nowhere, causing hurdles of leaves to hit him in the face. It was odd, and it didn't help that Arty had a mischievous glint in her eye, laughing as she absorbed the whole scenario.
He shook his head profusely. Here he was, in the center of the kitchen with a cup of tea, believing that strange weather patterns were somehow related to his daughter. That was out of sense and he didn't know prompted him to do that—Most likely, the exhaustion which overcame him.
It's official, he sighed, rubbing his eyes as he returned to his bedroom, I'm going bonkers.
He didn't realize that he had said that aloud when he heard a response.
"You went bonkers ages ago."
He looked up to see Oren sitting up on their bed, "So, what were you thinking about?"
Nod bit his lip and contemplated on whether or not he should let him in on his train of thoughts. Thinking that it was silly, he brushed it off.
"Well, if you say so," Oren spoke in a hesitant manner, but didn't push the agenda, "Also, we should shop for Sleeping Draughts to help you, yeah?"
"That we should," Nod nodded in agreement, "Goodnight, Oren."
"Goodnight, Nod."
Little did they know that Arty was going to experience plenty of troublesome years to come.
