Chapter Text
The mother let out a tired, yet content sigh as she leaned heavily against the wooden doorframe of her sons' bedroom, where the youngest boy was currently taping posters of Starr Park along the walls. The long, golden summer daylight, that had been filtering in through the big windows mere moments ago, had faded by now. Therefore, when the mother noticed she was squinting, she reached out to feel the wall for the light switch.
The light turned on before she could find it. She turned her head with an amused face and was met with the sight of her husband, leaning against the opposite side of the doorframe; smiling at her charmingly. The light switch was on the other side of the door, of course. She still wasn't used to the layout of their new house, it seemed.
"Thanks, mam, dad," the mother heard her youngest call out from the ladder, and her heart swelled with affection.
The boy had refused any help; he wanted to hang the posters up all by himself. They tried convincing him that he needed help, but the little redheaded boy was stubborn and strong-willed. Now, the mother had indeed prayed he would always be strong-willed, but never so stubborn that he would refuse help when he needed it.
"Dexter," her husband said scoldingly, snapping her out of her thoughts. He was looking in a different direction, so she followed his gaze. The couple caught their second eldest son taunting his youngest brother by throwing the posters to the ground, so that the little boy would have to get down, pick them up, move the ladder and go up again to re-tape them. "Don't be a twit, like," the father added, dissapointed and stern, because it was supposed to go without saying.
"Aye, Dexter, don't be a jerk." The already mentioned youngest boy climbed down the ladder, huffed and then stomped over to collect the fallen posters.
"But yee're so cute when ye pretend yee're so big and that ye divvn't need any help," teased Dexter, who then peeled the tape off from another poster just to annoy him some more. The little boy watched it fall dramatically before drawing in a deep breath and picking it up, giving Dexter a big-eyed, annoyed look. The mother had to agree that he was cute.
The eldest son, who had been toying with a Snowtel-themed snowglobe- leaning against the wall- added: " 'Specially with yer cute wee frecklies-"
"Cut i'out, like, at least he's tryin'," the second youngest - the bulky, also redheaded, boy that was playing videogames in the corner- cut him off. Yet, even then, he didn't look up from his videogame- which he had been playing since they got home from the amusement park- nor did his older brothers stop teasing the youngest. The parents shared a look.
"Yer just sayin' that cos yee used tae be in'nis pants," The eldest son mocked. The mother tapped the wooden doorframe to get their attention, knocks coming quick and short- just like her temper. "Lads. I kno yee are still buzzing from adrenaline, but dinnet tack it out on yee're brothers like that, a'reet?"
"Like what?" Dexter feigned ignorance. The mother didn't know how to respond to such a comment without snapping, so she just tilted her head in exasperation. Through her half-lidded eyes, she saw her husband give her the look. She brushed him off with a wave of her hand. The father, despite being still concerned, turned to the youngest, who was currently trying to drag the ladder across the room: "Yee sure ye don't, like, wan' a hand?" The father asked caringly, insisting on moving the ladder for the youngest boy, but the boy firmly refused and proceeded to pull the ladder over by himself.
The father stepped back to give him space. He looked back at his wife, who shook her head.
As the boy started going up the ladder again, the father called out: "Draco, bairn, lemme lend-"
"Nee! I wanna do it myself!" Draco replied stubbornly, jumping on the ladder to reach higher up. The ladder wobbled and Draco lost his balance but his father dashed forward and steadied him before he could fall. This led to Draco's delayed yelp, which brought a small smile to everyone's faces. The little boy grumbled and climbed down from the ladder when he made sure the tape stuck. He seemed determined to pick up and re-tape the posters Dexter tore down. He pulled the ladder into the next place.
"Hah, I reckon yee'll stay lanky, unlike Damian owa ere," commented the eldest son, despite seeing the younger boy's potential. Even as he struggled to pull the tall ladders across the carpet, Draco was determined. "Yeeee, you'll remain lankly. Small. Petite. Cute," the eldest continued, even though the mother could see on his face that he didn't really believe that.
Draco growled at him, quite literally, then spat out: "When I tame a dragon one day, I'll mack it eat ya for starters, Dorian."
"Ooooh noooo, wa'am I gonna doooo?!" Dorian said dramatically, like a damsel in distress from a cheesy American movie. A split second later he broke character and burst out laughing so hard his glasses almost fell from his nose. Draco and the boys' parents were far from amused.
"Lads, like, how are ye not tired?" The mother sighed. "Yee went on hods o' rides..."
"Oooh yeeee, I'd fancy talking 'bout Starr Park insteed," the father chimed in, trying to switch the topic. "Did ye find the rides canny?"
"The park was smaller than I expected, like," Dexter snorted.
"Looker here, it dee just open," the father argued. "After, like... git years."
"Ah hope it does well," the mother murmured, still frustrated and drained. "But, I'll always miss Starr Circus."
"Ye only miss it cuz' Sirius nivver stole yer shadow," Dorian shook the snow globe in his hand for the hundreth time, a smirk appearing on his face.
"Gah, divn't even start wi' them stories!" exclaimed the mother, watching the 'snow' settle in the snowglobe. "Foolish tales."
"Wha' about his supposed death, then, like?" wondered Dorian further.
"A git dramatic tale telt just to keep the papers entertained," brushed the mother the counter-argument off. "He must've retired, or sumethin'."
"Ye don't believe the story 'bout the fire mam?" Dexter tilted his head towards his mother, briefly, only to immediately continue watching Draco trying to tape a particularily large poster of Starr Park.
"Nee! It's so dramatic." The mother rolled her eyes.
Draco let out a frustrated grunt because he couldn't get the poster flat against the wall. Dexter laughed. And then paused, noticing his other younger brother hadn't spoken in a while and was just wrapping up the videogame. The mother recognized that mischevious, devious look that appeared on Dexter's face, as he said: "Ha'way Damian, gie him a lift."
She was too old and tired for this.
Damian hesitated and didn't react until the end screen showed up. He looked around the room at all of their faces, as if gauging what he should do. He was gonna start another game, when Dorian joined Dexter and the two encouraged him to join them in their teasing of Draco. Damian gave in to the peer pressure. He appeared amused by the idea, so it wasn't all forced. Their mother could tell the elder two brothers were a bad influence on him.
Draco gave them a confused look, not understand what 'give a lift' entailed.
Damian smirked at the approval from the older two boys when he approached Draco and picked the ladder up together with the little boy. He struggled a bit, but Damian was really, really strong for his age. Draco shrieked and clutched the ladder as he desperately tried to stabilize himself. "Leave me aloneeeeee!"
"Lads!" the mother gasped, displeased. "Nee," the father stomped over to them, "put him down-"
Dorian dropped the snowglobe from how hard he was laughing. Dexter caught it before it fell, laughing like a hyena himself. Apparently, the eldest sons found Draco's pleas and shrieking hilarious. The mother didn't, to say the least.
"Lads, we're nivver tacking you out on another trip unless ye stop actin' like that, like!" The father threathened.
"Maybe it's for the better, like, Starr Island's probably cursed," Dorian fixed his glasses. "But that's jus' a theory..."
"Yeah, yeah, and Draco's imaginary dragon is ganna eat ya," Dexter lightly punched Dorian's shoulder and handed him back the snowglobe, still grinning despite the threat.
"He's gonna eat all three of ya trolls," Draco said, turning around on the ladder and stomping his foot. "But he's gonna eat Dorian first. Then ye, Dexter."
"Even me?" Damian nudged Draco.
"Even ye 'cause yer also a bully," Draco crossed his arms. Damian seemed taken aback and a bit regretful, the mother noticed, for moment before Dexter snapped him out of it by wrapping an arm around his neck. "Aye bro, now yer the older bro and not the lil' one anyma', we cannit tease ya so much, like."
"They're menaces," The mother said to her husband. The father let out a half-amused, half-frustrated breath. "They'll stop pokin' at him eventually, jus' like with Damian."
He got closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it firmly and comfortingly. It felt blissful to her aching muscles. "A'reet, marra, I'll sort 'em oot. Get yerself sum sleep. That amusement park must've knocked the stuffin' oot o' ya."
"Thanks, love," the mother sighed, kissed his cheek and started leaving the kids' room just as the boys started wrestling. Draco was considerably strong for his size- but still ended up getting tackled and tickled by Dexter and Dorian while Damian held him down. Before the mother could react to it, her husband ushered her out of the room, pleading she rest.
She obliged, knowing he could handle the boys. After a few steps, however, she paused in the hallway to hear her husband cry out exasperatedly: "Lads!"
Barely a moment later, Dorian let out a scream - likely because his father tackled him in Draco's defense. He was then given the same treatment he and the two others gave to Draco. Dexter and Damian saved their butts by running to the other room, and Draco must've climbed onto his dad's back, knowing him, laughing and cheering.
The mother smiled.