Chapter Text
September 1st...do you know what that is? It's my birthday. It's also the day we (being my siblings and I) go back to Hogwarts, to school. So sometimes it can get a little hectic.
"INCOMING!" I cringed as the high-pitched voice of my manic little sister reached my ears, loud, and deafening, and just very barely I managed to avoid getting a levitating cake to the face. I ducked down in the middle of the kitchen, narrowly missing the sharp corner of our table.
Like I said, hectic.
It's been this way since I started school a few years ago. Back when it was just my older sister, Marlene, getting ready to head off, things weren't too bad. (Okay, so maybe there was just one year where it was like that…) But then the following year, my parents had to deal with her and me and my twin brother, Auggie. At the same time, they had to lug around my little sister, Naomi, who was just a wee tot, so it was a bit of a struggle.
"Naomi," I let out a low growl, blowing an obstructing lock of blonde hair out of my face, bouncing up and reaching (out of habit) for the acacia wand shoved in my boot. Not that I would ever hex my seven-year old sister...no...why would you think that? Heh…
The look on her face was priceless as I rose from the worn-tiled floors, my nostrils flared, brows furrowed, hands clenched in fists at my side. Like, should I ever find a time-travelling spell, I will in fact be using it to travel back to to this moment and snap a picture.
"What're you gonna do?" her lip wobbled, her wheat-colored ponytail bobbing as she tilted her head. Her stubby arms crossed in front of her chest as if I had was the one who flung food at her.
Very slowly, I pulled the rigid piece of wood from my shoe, raising it just enough so that were my mother to walk in, or worse my father, it wouldn't seem too threatening. But it was also enough that Naomi would still be in right mind to fear me.
"Was that my birthday cake? As in, the one we're supposed to eat before we leave?"
Naomi stood there for a second, rocking back and forth on her gremlin slippers, a look on her face so guilty that even Marigold Speckner (a famous blind wand-crafter) would've been able to identify it. But before I could utter the bat-bogey hex resting beautifully on my conscience, the little shit took off, practically a blur she ran so fast. Bollocks.
(Note to self, sign her up for the Hogwarts Track team.)
She smacked into Auggie on her way out of the kitchen. He let out an "Oof", which was ridiculous because she weighed maybe three-and-a-half stone. Rubbing his stomach, he looked at me with sleep still very much in his eyes.
"Cori, the hell was that?" he asked, grumbling towards the cockatrice egg fry-up Yiddles had left on the stove-top. They'd been here when I came in, but had quickly fled to the garden, I think. One never really knew with them, to be quite honest.
Yiddles had been around for as long as I'd been alive, and we still didn't know their gender. At first, I hadn't asked out of politeness, but now I was just too afraid of them coming unhinged and attacking me or something. (Marlene says that would never happen, that Yiddles is too loyal to us, but I'm not convinced. I think they have a screw loose…)
"Cori, the hell was that?" I mocked his voice, thickening my accent, and doing what I believe to be a man-ish walk, too grumpy for pleasantries after having my own blasted birthday cake flung at my face. How had Naomi even accomplished that? Not that I'm bitter… I tried to wipe that from my thoughts, instead focusing on the task at hand. Get to the shower before Marlene. As much as I loved my Ravenclaw sister, she wouldn't know how to save water if I wrote her a thirty-thousand-word novel on it.
Our house was two stories, but small, since the second floor was half taken up by the attic. It was shaped almost like a cottage, with the stairs sticking out practically oddly. My room was next to the kitchen. Meanwhile all the other rooms were set up by the sitting room all the way on the other side of the house. So basically, unless I suddenly discovered the ability to teleport, I was probably arse out on a hot shower for the morning.
But alas, I still tried. And failed. Every. Single. Time.
You'd think that, on a day as auspicious as my birthday, I'd be granted some leniency. I'd even woken up at practically the crack of dawn, for Merlin's sake! And yet, what did I find when I reached the loo but the sound of running water and Marlene singing some terrible Muggle song? She'd been singing several of them on repeat the entire holiday, ever since she came back from staying with her friend Lily Evans at the beginning of the summer.
"Really, Mar? It's my bloody birthday!" I yelled through the door, and I was met with only laughter. "Bloody bint," I muttered darkly. Just then, as I was about to step away from the white door before me, stepping backwards even, the dark wood of the hall creaking under my weight (not that I'm overweight), the idea hit me.
Revenge is a dish best served cold, they say. I had to hold in my cackles as I wrapped my hand around the doorknob silently, slinking in, agile and sneaky as a cat, snatching her clothes off the white counter and slipping back outside.
The next part was easy.
I waved my wand in the correct formation and whispered an incantation. "Accio Yiddles' robes."
Now, usually, you're not supposed to magic under the age of seventeen, but my father worked for the Ministry and our household was mostly overlooked when it came to underaged use of magic. Besides, The Ministry was too busy trying to catch Fergio Geko, a pureblooded wizard from Australia who was running around with over a dozen stole time-turners then to worry about my simple Year One spells. Ahh, current events.
After carefully placing one of Yiddles' old and worn robes, and I use the term 'robe' lightly, on the bathroom counter for dear old Marlene to find, I returned to the kitchen, where Mum was scrambling around, muttering hurriedly.
"How do you misplace an entire cake? For the love of Godric," she grumbled, throwing open some of the bottom cabinets, as if it would be in there. Meanwhile, Naomi at the table was shooting me a very pointed look that very clearly read 'I owe you my life, please don't tell on me'.
So I shot back a raised eyebrow, silently inquiring, 'What will I get for my troubles?'
Her wrinkled-nose response indicated that I would get a worthy reward for my lie, so I took it and ran with it, as the Muggles say. Or, I would've, if I hadn't felt a tail winding around my legs. I looked down and saw the scrunched-up face of my dear Rigby, Kneazle extraordinaire.
Rigby was the darkest, meanest, fluffiest Kneazle you would ever meet. Smart as a sphinx with teeth sharp as a dragon's, he was bitter about just about everything. But he was also a handy scapegoat in moments such as this, especially with the bit of butterbeer frosting on his muzzle.
"What are you doing, Mum?" I asked, causing her to let out a muffled shriek from the cabinet her head was in.
"Looking for your ruddy cake!"
"I think Rigby might've had something to do with it."
She pulled her head out and whirled around, jaw practically dropping as she eyed my cat's old-man face. She keyed in on the frosting just as Rigby licked his chops, and she grimaced.
"How in Merlin's beard…" she started, flabbergasted, as any mentally well person would be when met with the smug face of a cat the size of a dog who'd just raided the pantry.
"Kneazles are very smart, Mum. He probably opened the breadbox and dragged it out from there."
Mum, looking exactly like Marlene in the next second, placed her hand on her hip. The giant blonde bundle atop her head moved with the motion, and the wooden spoon in her hand looked much more threatening than a wand ever would. I learned at an early age just how ruddy with magic my parents were, no offense to them. Auggie, Marlene, and I were perfectly average and then some, so it didn't really matter, and if either of them NEEDED to cast a spell, they could...but still...how they graduated from Hogwarts, I would never be able to decipher.
"He opened the nook? Fine, that I can believe, but how would he have disposed of the evidence?" she countered, sounding like a real Sherlock Holmes. Ha, how's that for muggle culture, Professor Winklebeard?! (That's the Muggle Studies teacher. He has it out for me, FYI.)
My eyes rolled practically of their own accord, already completely annoyed with how the morning was going considering it was my birthday. I pulled out a stool and plopped down, my hands shooting down and lifting the giant black ball of fluff that was my Kneazle onto my lap.
"What do I look like? The Kneazle whisperer?" I scoffed.
"Well, he is your mangy beast." Ah joy, there was Marlene. I love her (she is my sister, after all) but I haven't gotten along with her in ages. She's irritatingly proper, even before she got her Prefect badge last year. She's practically insufferable nowadays, something that Auggie and Naomi and I can all agree on.
"Speaking of 'mangy', what're you doing in those rags?" Naomi inquired sweetly, swinging her legs and clipping my chair with her slippers. She seemed like an innocent little girl most of the time, but we all knew that she was a bit of a she-demon on the inside.
"I'm wondering the same thing, to be honest with you. Someone," here she gritted her pearly whites and shot eye-daggers at me, "took my clothes from the loo and replaced them with this."
Mum looked over her shoulder at her eldest, barely containing her snort as she turned back to whatever she was doing at the counter. "If I'm not mistaken, I think that's one of Yiddles' tea towels."
"I wonder how that got there? Yiddles isn't one for leaving their things everywhere," I chimed in, eyes wide, trying to project the innocence I'd cultivated when I was Naomi's age.
"Hohoho, my ears were burning" the jolly, deep, disturbing voice of Yiddles met my ears as they came all-but trolloping inside the kitchen, a basket of laundry in hand, an exact replica of what Marlene was wearing on their back.
"Wow!" A fake gasp of awe came from the back hallway that led the basement, and I turned slightly in my chair to catch a glimpse of my twin sauntering in. He was dressed and ready to catch the Hogwarts Express, a look of faux adoration on his face. "You guys are, like, totally twinning!"
I couldn't help the snort that slipped out at the hilarity of the situation. Poor, Marlene...not! Literally, if she just let me use the blimey bathroom once in awhile, I bet I would become the kindest person to her. Not that she'll ever find out. Selfish bint hogging the hot water...gonna make a spell to give her an allergy to water when I get back to school...My thoughts turned bitter and trailed off and I changed my focus to my fingers sliding through Rigby's soft fur.
To this date, I was the only one allowed to pet Rigby other than Auggie. Every time someone else did, he'd hiss and then pee everywhere. I thought it was hilarious when we first got him...until it became my job to clean up the mess.
"But, mummy! That's what Yiddles is for!" I can remember my little eleven-year old self whining and glaring at the smug cat lying next to the suspicious yellow puddle on that fateful day.
But back to the matter at hand. Marlene was torn between stabbing me with her green eyes and doing the same to my twin. As much as we don't always get along, Auggie and I definitely have the same twisted sense of humor. We were the scourge of the family holiday parties, to be sure. We shared smirks across the room, and Marlene let out a frustrated but muffled shriek.
"I can't wait to get away from you two! The Express can't come soon enough!" she cried, stomping her foot, staying true to her own reputation as the family whinger. It might have been scary if not for her ridiculous attire. We cracked up, only getting louder as our dad stumbled in, nose buried in The Daily Prophet.
"What's all this, then?" he asked, not looking up for so much as a second from his articles. He walked straight into Marlene, and that was the last straw for her, apparently. She screeched like a banshee, throwing up her hands and stomping out of the kitchen. Mum tried to fix me with a disapproving stare but it was ruined by her twitching nose, which happened every time she tried to stifle her amusement about anything. Naomi did the exact same thing. Luckily, I didn't get that habit.
"Lena's trying out a new style, Pops!" giggled said tyke from her seat in the corner.
There was something to be admired about the shit that Naomi pulled, ruining my birthday cake, and throwing in little comments as she did. It was a small effort with a big effect. One day, maybe I could bullshit the universe as constantly as she did. Though I'm unsure of whether or not I could get away with it. Things are different when you're 1.2 metres and bloody adorable. I shot the puppy on her pastel pink dress a dark suspicious look.
In that instant, we got to see Marlene's face turn the same shade of red as Dad's dressing shirt. So there was that.
"Ooh, breakfast and a show!" Auggie, since he didn't identify with the word 'boundaries', flopped down and pulled himself up in a criss-cross position on the kitchen table, swiping a flapjack from my plate and taking large bites.
We were all terrible siblings, looking back at it.
"Oh, Miss Marlene!" Yiddles' manly voice drew everyone's attention, including my father's, as they took in what my elder sister was wearing. And then...though I'm not sure, to this day I question my memory even, but...I'm pretty sure their cheeks flushed. As in, Yiddles (our basically-Russian, agender house elf) was blushing. "You look particularly stunning this evening!"
Woe is me.