Cheeky

IV

Labours, Letters, and Lies

"Are you trying out for the Quidditch team, Iris?"

Iris looked up from her homework. Samantha was standing next to her in the Slytherin Common room. "No," was Iris's response. Around her, dozens of kids were babbling about Quidditch, comparing their broomsticks, and mentally preparing themselves for the tryouts that were about to occur.

"Why not? Didn't your father play?"

"Yeah. But I don't want to. Why, are you trying out?"

Samantha shrugged. "I figure I may as well. My dad played. With yours," she added, as though it was a side note.

"You didn't tell me you were going to try out," Iris said, laying her quill down on her parchment.

Samantha shrugged self-protectively. "I didn't know I told you everything."

Iris gave her a confused look.

Samantha chose to ignore her friend's glares. "Why, would you have decided to try out if you had known that I was?"

Iris went back to her Charms essay. "No." Iris had a feeling Samantha was only trying out because Caleb and Ian were. And Iris had been suspecting that Samantha had a big fat crush on Caleb since the end of their first year.

"Are you going to come down and watch, though?" Samantha asked.

"Well, I have to write this Charms essay--"

"Oh, Charms, shmarms," Samantha joked badly, flipping her hand as though swatting away the idea of completing any work during Quidditch tryouts. "Come down and watch." She bent over so she was level with her friend's hunched over form. "You know you want to."

Iris sighed. "Okay, I'll try, but if you keep bothering me, chances are I won't be done yet."

"Jeez... someone's crabby when they do their homework..." Samantha slinked off to go find more exciting people to babble with.

"Come on. You're watching."

"I am not. Watching means I'm supporting the sport, which I will not do." Ben was juggling his football dangerously in the center of the common room as he spoke.

"But think of it this way: you're not supporting Quidditch. You're supporting your dear old cousin Liam and your dear old twin sister Edith," Liam expressed agitatedly, practically begging the curly-haired boy.

"No." Ben tossed the ball up with his foot theatrically and then whacked it with his forehead. It bounced off and straight into a luckily unlit lamp, which proceeded to shatter into pieces. "Oh, bugger."

"Reparo," Liam grumbled, pointing his wand at the shards almost accusationally.

Ben turned to Liam. "Look, I know you have no confidence in your Quidditch playing skills whatsoever, so why don't you just not try out?"

Liam rolled his blue eyes. "Because everyone's expecting me to. My parents are Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. One's a Hogwarts legend and the other is almost a Hogwarts legend. What am I supposed to do? Seem like some sort of wimp?"

Ben scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Just don't try out. That makes more sense than trying out and being really bad and embarrassing yourself."

"Easy for you to say."

Ben narrowed his eyes, ready to snap back with some un-witty retort about how Liam must have been suggesting that Ben's parents weren't nearly as great and famous as his were, when his buoyant, auburn-haired twin sister bounded down the staircase from the girls' dormitory.

"Come on, Liam," she urged, striding toward the portrait hole all dolled up in her Quidditch gear already. She held her Firebolt -- quite an outdated model by now -- aloft at her side, not letting it waver as she waited expectantly for her cousin. "The tryouts are starting in two minutes."

Liam gave Ben a pained look, but the taller of the two shook his head adamantly. "No, I am not coming. You got yourself into this, you can deal with the future consequences or get out of it." He started juggling the football again.

"Fine. But who's going to be here when something else needs repairing?"

"I can say the incantation myself!"

"Alright, hello, everyone. Thank you all for coming down here on this foggy Saturday morning. Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. As you may or may not know, I'm Etienne Weasley, I'm the captain of the team." The tall and agile Etienne was standing before a large group of mainly second- and third-years, pacing back and forth as he gave his speech uncomfortably. He was never much for public speaking, but it came with the job.

"Ugh, what am I doing here?" Liam asked himself irritatedly.

"Calm down. It's not going to be that bad. You've only been on a broom a few times," Edith attempted consolingly.

"Exactly," Liam said dismally.

"Please stop being so hard on yourself. You don't deserve it. It's just Etienne; he's not going to be that mean to you."

"What do you mean it's just Etienne--?" Etienne was the eldest of all the Weasley cousins, and therefore the most intimidating by Liam's standards. Despite the fact that he was substantially nicer than Virginie, Dominica, and sometimes even Lucas.

"I mean that it's just Etienne. He's not going to work you extra hard. It's not like it's Dominica running the tryouts, or any--"

But Edith was cut off by her so-called nice and kind cousin, who supposedly wasn't going to go hard on them. "No talking while I'm talking, please." He gave the two an irritated glance.

Edith was a little shocked. Was Etienne really going to treat his own, innocent flesh and blood like that?

Liam grimaced. This didn't bode well for the rest of the tryouts.

Both saw Lucas snickering to himself as he stood with the other Chasers.

Again, this did not bode well.

"Now," Etienne continued, getting more into his role as Quidditch captain, "I'm looking for a Chaser, a Keeper, and two Beaters, so those will be the positions you'll be doing drills and things for today. If you think you have an idea of what you might be best at, I'd like you split into groups, so Chasers over there, Beaters down at that end, and Keepers over there."

Liam looked at Edith with terror in his eyes.

"Let's just go to the Chasers. That'll be easiest," she suggested, turning to her left.

As though on queue, Etienne suddenly announced, "If you're not sure where to go, just stay where you are and we'll stick you in a group and rotate you around... I guess..."

Lucas's laughter spouted out once more.

"I'll just stay here," Liam said, stopping in his tracks.

Edith continued to the Chaser group, and Liam took a few timid steps toward the cluster of trembling second-years that had stayed in the middle.

"Alright, then. Let's begin."

Liam was sent up with the Beaters, first, which Etienne soon realised was an incredibly big mistake. He didn't quite have enough arm strength to hit the bludger, nor did he have good enough balance to be able to not knock himself over when thrusting all his muscle into whacking the bludger, nor did he quite have the coordination to apply all these skills--or lack thereof--to one action. So he was quickly tossed into the pool of Chasers, where he met back with Edith, who happened to be doing a fantastically smashing job of dodging bludgers, catching every quaffle that came within ten feet of her, and managing to stay on her broomstick. Liam felt sick to his stomach as he was asked to step forward (or fly forward, rather) to try and catch some quaffles that Lucas was to toss trickily at him. When that, too, failed miserably, his last hope was the Keeper tryout. At this time any miniscule ounce of confidence that may have lain dormant in the back of Liam's brain at the start of the tryouts had now awoken and fled without a trace to go rest in the back of someone else's mind, because it surely wasn't necessary for a kid who was failing at every Quidditch task set before him. Liam mentally cursed his family for setting up this stupid standard for him.

"Etienne?" Liam spoke in a strangled voice.

"Yeah?" His red-haired cousin glided over to him on his broomstick, as though the air was butter and he was some sort of charming dictator of a butterknife.

"Can I just sit this out? I know I'm not going to make the team."

"Oh, don't say that." Out of nowhere, Etienne had become the "friendly cousin" once again, and started pulling shit out of his ass like nobody's business.

Liam mentally rolled his eyes. "Seriously. I'd rather just sit out."

"You sure? You have some potential."

Some being the operative word. Besides, it wasn't like Liam was having fun. At all. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Alright. You can sit in the stands."

Liam nodded and flew glumly over to the bleachers, where he took a seat amongst a few onlookers. He soon ascertained that the only two real candidates for the open Chaser position were Edith, and the girl who happened to be her best friend, Georgina Wood. Being the daughter of Oliver and Katie Bell, Liam surmised that Georgina, indeed, had more to live up to in terms of Quidditch than he did--even though that meant that in terms of saving the world and all that jazz, Liam had more to live up to. But at least Georgina was excellent at what she was supposed to be good at. She flew around the pitch like a pro, just as Edith did. It was a pretty close call.

Liam leaned back and attempted to enjoy the rest of the tryouts, while pushing his Charms essay as far as he could into the back of his brain. Maybe to where the smidgen of confidence had been sleeping.

Iris sat at the breakfast table a few mornings later with Samantha, before classes started.

"I'm sorry you didn't make the team, Sam," she said comfortingly.

Samantha shrugged, shoving a forkful of eggs into her mouth. "It's okay. I didn't really expect to make it."

Iris nodded as Caleb and Ian joined them. While Samantha and Caleb didn't make the team, Ian, surprisingly enough, since he didn't seem to be good at much of anything, had been chosen as beater. It kind of worked with his bulky, Milicent Bulstrode-esque exterior.

The owls suddenly came in, delivering the day's mail. Iris was pleasantly surprised to have one drop just to the left of her hot cereal. Her dad sent her letters every so often, but it was always equally nice when one came. She tore it open hastily.

Dear Iris,

I hate to inform you of such bad news, but it seems that your mother has run off again. I didn't tell you last year, but after returning she disappeared for about a week and a half in March. I didn't want to burden you with the information, so I kept it to myself since she returned so soon. This time she's been gone for over two weeks now, so I figure you should know. I suspect this to be a regular occurrence for her, so that's why I think it's important that you know and perhaps get the idea that your mother probably isn't completely mentally stable. Which isn't to say, of course, that I'm going to ship her off to St Mungo's at any minute, but just meaning that we have to be extra-sensitive to her, is all. I hate to tell you all this through a letter, but the school really leaves me no choice. I hope everything else is well, and again, I really apologise for having to spring this on you.

Lots of love,

Dad

Iris resisted the urge to crumple up the letter and stomp on it before spitting on it and ripping it into six thousand pieces. It wasn't her father, necessarily, that pissed her off so much--quite frankly she felt sorry for him and his situation, as she did last year. It was her mother, though. Her mother had no right to disappear the way she did. What problems did she have that were so big they required her to ditch her husband and daughter so frequently? What could possibly be so much more important than her family, or so burdening that it caused her to act this way?

"What is it?" Samantha asked, sensing her friend's ungrateful demeanor.

Iris shrugged. "I don't know," she answered honestly.

Hermione was sitting in the living room, reading a book, when Edith and Ben's owl flew in through the window and dropped a letter on her lap. She instantly recognised Edith's handwriting scribbled excitedly on the front.

Dear Mum and Dad,

Just wanted to tell you both that I made the Gryffindor Quidditch team! I'm a Chaser alongside Lucas! And also this other boy named Ennis McLaggen. Georgina made the team, too! She's Keeper. I'm so excited. I can't wait to start practices. Well, I just thought I'd tell you that. I have to go now, though. Bye!

Love,

Edith

Hermione couldn't help her natural animal instincts to feel a twang of irritation and anger spur up in her body after reading her daughter's letter. Not only was she following her father's footsteps in becoming utterly Quidditch-obsessed--which they'd learned sometime earlier, but just assumed it was to try and go against her brother's obsession with Muggle football--but she was playing along-side and in the same position as Cormac McLaggen's child. Hermione had to jump to the conclusion that Ennis McLaggen was related to Cormac. Who else had that last name?

"Good morning, Hermione." It was a Sunday, so Ron and Hermione were both off work. "What's that?" He pointed to the letter she had clutched in her fist.

"What? Nothing." She crumpled it some more. Hermione had no idea what was overcoming her, and she didn't really like it. But then again, she wasn't stopping her secretiveness.

Ron furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Okay, then..." He headed into the kitchen.

Hermione supposed that she didn't want Ron to know about his and Edith's common personality traits. It bothered her enough already that neither of the twins had proven to be as studious as she was during her years at Hogwarts. She shoved the piece of parchment into her pocket and went back to her reading.

Ron entered the kitchen to find six-year-old Angus shoving massive spoonfuls of peanut butter into his mouth, looking guilty as he caught his father's eye.

"Angus, what are you doing?" Ron asked, a slight smile spreading across his face.

Angus giggled.

Ron lowered his voice as he got closer to his son. "I'll tell you what; I'll let you have all the peanut butter you'd like if you do something for me."

"Ooh, what?!" Angus squealed.

"Ssssh! You have to be quiet, okay? It's a secret."

Angus nodded sincerely.

"Okay," Ron whispered, getting a little paranoid, "Mummy has a letter that Daddy wants to see, but she's not letting Daddy see it. So you have to try and get it from her, but don't let her know that I asked you to, okay?"

Angus nodded again.

"Do you understand?"

Third nod.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Get a letter from Mummy," Angus said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But what else?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to go up to Mummy and ask her for it?"

"...No..."

"No, you're not. You're going to use your super spy skills to get it from her creatively."

"Okay..." Angus didn't sound very convinced.

"So you're not going to say 'Mummy, can I see the letter in your pocket?' You're going to say something like 'Mummy, it looks like there's a letter in your pocket. Can I see?' Or, better yet, maybe she hasn't put it in her pocket yet. Anyway, you should go."

Angus nodded officially and then scampered out of the kitchen. Ron followed him and listened by the door.

"Hi, Angus," Hermione said in a sweet voice.

"Mummy, it looks like there's a letter in your pocket. Can I see?"

Ron slapped himself on the forehead.

"Ron?" Hermione's voice called from the living room. "Ron, I know you're out there."

He entered bashfully. Angus giggled as he lay on the couch with his head in his mum's lap.

"How evil of you, employing our kids to do your dirty work."

"What? I'm not the one who's hiding letters from their spouse."

"Fine, you can read it," Hermione allowed reluctantly, shoving the crinkled paper towards her husband.

He flattened it out and started reading, his face lighting up more and more brightly with every word he saw. "This is fantastic! Why wouldn't you let me see it?"

"Daddy, can I have my peanut butter now?" Angus asked, sliding off the couch.

"Yes." Ron wasn't really paying attention. He was admittedly baffled by his wife's actions.

"Because... I didn't want you to see how much the twins are turning out to be you. But in two people. And one girl."

Ron frowned. "Why not?"

"Because."

"Because they're not like you? And you were hoping against hopes that Edith would turn out to be your clone?" He sat down on the couch.

Hermione didn't respond.

"I can already tell that Vicky's going to be the braniac of the bunch. And she's at Hogwarts, so you'll see it soon enough."

Hermione sighed.

"This is very unlike you."

"I know." She paused. "It felt kind of weird. That's why I gave in."

"Thought so." He gave his wife a kiss on the forehead.