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Post by Minister Jack Harkness on Aug 4, 2011 23:35:36 GMT -5
“Your son is a wizard.”
This solemn announcements was met by blank stares. The two muggles sitting together on the couch glanced at each other, then looked back to the rather ordinary young man sitting adjacent to them on the other couch.
“WHAT THE HELL!?”
“What Jean means,” Ralph placed his hand on his wife’s knee, a calming gesture. He spoke in a more reasonable tone than his wife. “Is that there must be some mistake. There is no such thing as magic.”
“Yes, well, this isn’t just for show.” The ministry worker proceeded to show, with a little more flair than was necessary, or usual, just what magic could do.
--
Jack sat on the couch, leaning into his mother’s side. He fit there slightly uncomfortably, at eleven he was gangly and long. He was starting to outgrow his petite mother. Six year old David was watching a paper dragon that perched near him on the couch, while his younger sister was down for a nap. Jack watched the man in the suit across from him with wide eyes.
Now he had an explanation for the strange occurrences. But more than that, Jack was ecstatic for the same reason many young boys would be: magic was real. How many times had he dreamed of it? Of warlocks and wizards and dragons, of gryphons and trolls.
David reached out to pet the dragon and Jack grinned, enthusiastic. Magic was Real!
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Post by Theo Bowre on Aug 9, 2011 23:15:15 GMT -5
"Come on then, we're not two. Let's get moving!"
Jeff scowled at his older brother, fed up with the constant badgering and the less-than-useful criticism. Jeff was ten but he was about to turn thirty, thanks to David. David had a way of demanding all sorts of impossible things and delegating every detail so that he had zero responsibility. One day David would make a brilliant businessman. But Jeff was the doer. Never was this more apparent than today. He tried to help Theo separate his fingers.
"For you information, David," Jeff began in his careful, mature tone, "one of us is six and he's just managed to glue himself to himself. Dad won't let me use any scissors other than the safety ones and you've created a dangerous workplace for me. I can't do it all myself, David. And plus, you're sixteen. You're practically old."
"Shut it!"
"DAVID? JEFFREY? THEODORE?"
"Great, Jeff. There's dad. Nice work." David scowled, plopping himself down on Jeff's undersized bed and reaching for a Quidditch mag that was well worn with love. He couldn't deal with children. Not today. Even the simplest of tasks became an issue because of his lame brothers. He should've been hanging out with Jack...Jack was an adult now.
"BOYS?"
"UP HERE."
"You don't have to yell, David. Crookshanks. I think he's really stuck. Sorry, Theo." The six year-old's bright blue eyes looked up innocently at Jeff and he broke in to a soft smile. "No, Theo. This is bad. Dad is going to freak."
"Yes, Jeffrey. You created a dangerous workplace for Theo because you gave him glue. Good job there."
"Shut up, David!"
"He probably ate it."
"Shut up, David!"
"Make me, squirrel."
Having enough, Jeff leapt from the floor, crushing himself in to his brother and failing to pull back fully on his punches. The boys were soon immersed in war, tugging at shirts and pulling at hair so heatedly that they failed to notice Ralph enter the bedroom behind them. Their dad crossed his arms as he observed patiently from the door.
"That's enough. I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH."
The play fighting instantly ceased, David throwing Jeff off the bed in a final show of force. Ralph Harkness' silence was deadly: the boys knew this, their friends knew it...you knew to respect the man and his wishes when he bestowed 'the look' upon you. After a careful study of his three adopted sons, he laid down the law.
"I've been calling you boys for the last twenty minutes. It's your brother's birthday and he's been waiting for you downstairs this whole time. Your mom's gone to a lot of trouble to make his favourite dinner and I find you up here fighting? What am I going to tell Jack? I think you all owe him an apology."
"Dad-"
"No, David. You keep telling me you're almost an adult but this doesn't show me that. And Jeff, this isn't like you, son. Theo, I - why are Theo's fingers stuck together?" Ralph knelt down on the ground, carefully guiding his youngest over so that he could look at his hands. "What did you do?" Theo whispered but Ralph had to lean in to hear. "What was that?"
"They were helping me make Jack a present."
Ralph looked up at Jeff and David, finding the boys staring back at him.
"Is this true?"
"Theo didn't have money to get him anything so he asked if we could help him make Jack a pop-up card." Jeff maneuvered himself around his dad and younger brother to retrieve the construction-paper bifold creation that oozed glue on to the hardwood. He handed it to Ralph as evidence. On the front of the card, Theo had drawn a rudimentary picture of Jack floating amongst the clouds. When the card opened, bright rays of sunshine burst from the middle with a small message written on a heart...You make my wurld sunyer, Ralph nodded his approval and cleared his throat.
"Come on, boys. Let's go wish your brother a happy birthday." Ralph let Theo race ahead with his card and placed his arms around David and Jeff's shoulders as they exited the room.
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Post by Theo Bowre on Aug 13, 2011 23:53:01 GMT -5
Knock. Knock.
“Password.”
“Purple Pony.”
“That was last month’s password.”
“Oh! Right…Blue Pony?”
It was an exaggerated sigh.
The visitor was not so daft as to not know that Annie was frustrated and disappointed by his failure to pay attention to the things that mattered in her preteen world. Like passwords. Passwords were important. They ranged up there with hidden notes, secret-secrets, vanilla-scented body lotion and boys. To forget the password to your niece’s hallowed space was like committing sin. One had to repent. And possibly bribe.
The door to the bedroom creaked open and Theo’s blue eyes cautiously peered in.
“I’m sorry.”
“Theo, if you visited more often you’d know the password was different. I changed it to Pixie Perfect.” Annie slithered off the bed, her legginged legs striding in four long paces to the door to grant her uncle passage. “Come in. Sit there,” Annie commanded, pointing to a pink-coloured bean bag chair in the corner. Theo obliged, noting with some trepidation that a poster of the youngest member of the wizard boy band Alchemy was staring down at him. No wonder Jack sounded worried on the fire. The only boy Annie had shown interest in prior was a cartoon character noted for its lulling coos. Annie was three.
Theo sat in silence as his niece removed her favourite series of books from her bed. She was meticulous when it came to organizing. Book bindings were arranged numerically or by colour and larger tomes were catalogued on the top shelf according to preference of content.
Finally, Annie took a seat and eyed her uncle suspiciously.
“Dad called you.”
“Yes.”
“You’re here to tell me I can’t go. Don't bother. Dad already said so.”
“Actually, I’m here to see how you are. You’re dad mentioned you skipped lunch and dinner.”
“IN PROTEST.”
“I gathered that.”
“It’s stupid.” Annie pouted, lying back with her head propped on her pillows. Knowing she would break under Theo’s caring gaze, she chose instead to focus on her nails, which had yet to grow to any desirable length. Annie hated them. She couldn’t meet Ben Mysterio if she looked ten. He was a teen idol. Teen idols wanted teen girls. “Dad just doesn’t get it. I’m not a kid anymore. He’s being ridiculous.”
Theo nodded. He did not envy Jack the perils of parenthood. These were shark-infested waters.
“So, there’s a concert? Your dad said Manchester.”
“It’s Alchemy. They’re like in town for one day before their World Tour. Lucy Moran and Ginny McGivallry are allowed to go and their moms got a hotel room at the venue. Lucy said that Ginny heard Skye tell Tabatha that Ben Mysterio was going to sign autographs after the show. So I gave Lucy the money that dad gave me for my birthday and Lucy’s mom bought me a ticket. Now dad says I can’t go because he can’t take me and he won’t let me stay in the hotel with Lucy and Ginny because he thinks their moms are members of some stupid witch group and that they’ll try to convert me.”
“Mrs. McGivallry and Mrs. Moran belong to an anti-government organization. Your dad’s just thinking about your safety.”
“He also thinks Mrs. McGivallry chain smokes and said that Mrs. Moran dresses inappropriately for all times of the day. Now everybody gets to meet Ben but me and it’s not fair because I’m a bigger fan than Lucy or Ginny or Skye or Tabatha. It’s stupid.” Annie grabbed a pillow and turned to lie on her side, facing the wall and finding comfort away from Theo. “I’m a daughter of the Minister of Magic. Ben’s and my relationship is perfect. Like the Royals.”
“Do you have a relationship with Ben?” Theo wasn’t certain if it was fear of this fact or Annie’s glare that made his stomach clench more.
“No, because dad won’t let me go!”
Relief.
“I see.”
“He’s the best singer ever. I hate being the baby. Kendra gets to do everything.”
It was a predicament Theo did not know how to solve. Jack’s instructions to his brother had been clear: help me talk some sense in to her, help me make it right. Not that Jack was skirting his duties as a father. Annie had informed her dad before dinner that he was not to speak to her any further unless he was prepared to treat her like an adult. Jack panicked. She was twelve. He thought he had at least four years left before Annie became self-aware. Jack also had a meeting that was impossible to cancel and the situation at home had reached nuclear proportions.
The problem was that Theo could also see Annie’s side of it. While it would be a cold day in Bradford before he’d let Annie stay in a hotel room with Mrs. Moran and Mrs. McGivallry, she did need to be a a regular kid outside the pearly gates of the Ministry. Everything the Harkness kids did was open to scrutiny and while they might not have always realized it, the requirement to be tip-top was ever-present. Jack had done everything in his power to protect them from such a fate, but media always found a way. Annie was at an age where she’d feel the division most.
“It doesn’t matter how old you are, pumpkin. You could be a hundred and your dad would still demand to see the references of anyone wishing to be with you. He’s a dad. He feels responsible for you and your happiness. And when you get to be as ancient as Jack is, you learn a thing or two about people and their intentions. I would do the same with my daughter, and with you if I had any say in the matter. You know why?”
“No.” Annie’s voice suggested that she didn’t want to hear it.
“Because you’re up here, Ann,” Theo placed his hand as a benchmark above his head, “and they’re not. I don’t think you know how cool you really are. And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re the daughter of the Minister. This is something you’ve accomplished on your own. You are Annie Harkness and you are freaking awesome.”
Silence.
“Okay,” he continued. “Let’s look at this more critically. First of all,” Theo pointed to the poster of Ben, “You’ve got style points over this kid. You have class and poise. Benny here…I get he’s going for brooding, grunge thing but he looks like someone used him as a scrub brush on a gravy pan. He has girly hair, nowhere near the body and silkiness of your Harkness locks, I might add, and whereas you’re a young woman approaching adulthood, Alchemy is just a bunch of wee boys. You’re extremely intelligent. Ben, not so much. I’ve heard their lyrics and they’re not waxing Shakespeare there. You represent your country. Alchemy represents the awkwardness of thirteen. Believe me, not fun for us blokes. If anything, Ben should be asking for your autograph. But he has to stand in line because I’ve been asking for your autograph for years and I’m still waiting.”
Annie pivoted on the bed, peering cautiously over the frame as if weighing the sincerity of Theo’s comments. His face held no wrinkle of mirth, no glimmer of jest, nothing that she expected of her uncle when he was playing a joke.
“Dad asked you to say all that.”
“No, I said all that and meant it. Your Dad actually asked me to give you this.” Theo pulled an envelope out of his shirt pocket and handed it over carefully, watching as Annie’s slender figures took the letter and fidgeted with the seal. She hesitated.
“I want him to see me as a twelve year old and not a baby.”
“If you read his note, I think you’ll see that he does.”
Annie looked down, carefully extracting a handwritten note and two tickets from the dark blue parchment.
“Dad’s given me tickets! He said one’s for you?”
“By his instructions, to provide transportation, financial services and general supervision duties only. I am not to embarrass his daughter because she’s almost an adult and is completely capable of making her own decisions.”
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Post by Minister Jack Harkness on Aug 14, 2011 0:07:34 GMT -5
LOVE. Both of them. SO MUCH LOVE.
Also, Theo rocks, and so do you, the writer.
I am in so much awe right now.
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Post by Nuriko Elsywth on Aug 20, 2011 19:23:41 GMT -5
Been tweaking this all afternoon. But I'm not ready to give up my current set yet, so I'll show this off here.
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