Chapter 20.

"That's the last of them," Hannah said happily as she walked back into the kitchen. Padma finished wiping down the bench and chucked the dishcloth in the sink as Isobel started arranging the decorated cupcakes and biscuits on plates. "Gosh, that was exhausting." She poked her head into the living room, where Maria, Hazel and Alice were sticking the paper chains and snowflakes to walls. "Thanks so much for your help today, girls. If you'd like, you're totally welcome to come to the barbeque tonight."

They glanced at each with shrugs and smiles. "Thanks," said Maria with a grin, "Mrs Potter."

Hannah responded very maturely by sticking out her tongue. "Just Hannah. I'm not even dating the guy."

"But you've thought about it, right? I mean, the Boy-Who-Lived, living right next door, raising your children." Maria swooned dramatically and cackled.

"Very funny," Hannah said. "The way this year is going, I don't have time for relationships, especially not a high profile one. And he's probably going to kick things off with Ginny again at the end of the year."

"Gosh, what do you people even talk about anymore? From the sounds of it, there's no good gossip to be had in the Seventh year at all."

"We've got other things to worry about at the moment," Hannah returned to the kitchen and started pulling out piles of plates. She paused. "Speaking of which, you girls lock your doors, right?"

Apparently she wasn't as good at nonchalance as she'd hoped, because Padma and Isobel exchanged suspicious glances and turned all their attention to her. "Generally. Why?"

"Nothing, nothing," Hannah attempted to backtrack. It wasn't working. Why had she picked two Ravenclaws to open a daycare with? From the look on Padma's face, her brain was already working towards a solution.

"What do you know that we don't?" Padma frowned. "What has McGonagall told you that she hasn't told the rest of us?"

"Who said anything about McGonagall?"

"You're checking if we lock our doors, which has never been an issue before. There hasn't been any kind of announcement so far about security, not even in the newspaper, so the rest of us haven't been thinking about it. You, however, have a very specific reason to be asking, otherwise it wouldn't be on your mind. Where would you get this information from? A source that we don't have, probably your job. You get everything for the newspaper before we do, so there's some important reason for us to lock our doors that you're not telling us about." Padma crossed her arms. "What's the deal?"

"There's going to be a string of robberies," Hannah blurted, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Idiot! It had been bugging her all day, but she didn't mean for it to come out. From Padma and Isobel's raised eyebrows, they weren't expecting it either. "I think it's because nobody expects it. I mean, I leave my door unlocked half the time, because we're in Hogwarts. But we're getting into really bad habits about it here, and when we graduate there's not going to be that protection." She grinned sheepishly. "Everything they do is for a reason, right?"

Isobel turned to Padma. "I'm going to check on my house."

"Good idea," Padma agreed.

"Do you guys want to take a couple of hours break? I can probably get things ready here, and you'll both want showers before the barbeque." Hannah paused, as if remembering something, then finished getting out plates. "Isobel, I don't know if you wanted to bring uh… Mr Isobel, but we've got plenty of food. Needs be, we'll just pull out Amy's cake and feed him that. I'm leaving it as… a reserve, until such a time as we're really, really desperate."

"Mr Isobel?" She asked, a little confused.

"You know, bring your husband to the barbeque with you," Hannah said, now pulling out saucepans.

Isobel strove for casual. "So… uh… I'm invited to the barbeque then?"

"What are you talking about? Of course you are," laughed Hannah. Isobel tried to return to smile, but Hannah faltered. "Didn't I… didn't I…? Oh sweet Merlin, I thought I invited you! Why on earth didn't you say anything?"

"Well, I didn't want to presume…"

"Of course you're invited! This is as much your victory as it is mine," Hannah declared firmly. "So I will be seeing you for dinner."

—Real Life Sucks—

"Well, thanks for today Hermione," Pansy said, as Hermione and Annie turned onto their street. "I'll give the book back once I'm done, alright?"

"No worries," Hermione grinned. "I hope it helps with that- Oh!" Her eyes widened slightly. "We were meant to hand in those assignments today! I completely forgot." A mischievous twinkle flickered through her eyes. "Cough, cough. Oops. I'm sick. I simply couldn't have made it to classes today, even if I wanted to."

"How absolutely tragic," Pansy agreed, with faux sympathy. "Oh dear, I do think I'm catching something myself. I just hope Professor McGonagall will accept our assignments on Monday."

Jordan tugged on her hand. "Are you sick, Mummy? Mrs Potter said that sick people needs to sleep, and soup, and quiet. I can make you soup when we get home! I can probably even reach the stovetop if I stand on a chair!"

"Uh, thank you sweetheart, but I think I'll be alright," Pansy said, as thoughts of Jordan, unsupervised, in front of an open flame as he wobbled on a stool filled her head.

—Real Life Sucks—

Clara knocked on the door, tugging a little nervously at the hem of her dress.

"Clara!" Hannah cried happily as the door swung open. "I love your dress! It's gorgeous!"

Clara grinned and returned the compliment. Faced with a dress code of 'Wear anything you want, seriously, it doesn't even matter,' it seemed they had both opted to treat themselves a little – dresses, lipstick, nice hair, jewellery. And really, after a long week of dealing with Seamus (and in Hannah's case, fifteen Seamus-equivalents), they totally deserved it.

"Hannah, you remember my husband, David Beckham?" Clara asked innocently.

"Ah yes, David," Hannah said with a twinkle in her eye. "How are you, David?"

"Absolutely spiffing, Mrs Potter," Dean returned smoothly. He'd followed Clara's example in dressing up, and pulled out his best black slacks and a clean shirt and tie.

"And, er… Seamus," Hannah said haltingly, surprised.

"Mrs Potter," Seamus said happily. "How are you?" Seamus had evidently decided not to follow Dean and Clara's example. He'd merely discarded his school tie, and his shirttails hung haphazardly out of his pants.

"I'm… I'm fine thanks." Hannah scrambled for something to say.

Thankfully, she was saved by Harry's arrival at the front door.

"Dean," he greeted with a nod. "Clara, right?" She nodded, and they shook hands. "You have a lovely dress," Harry said, in a manner that sounded only slightly rehearsed. "How was that?" he muttered to Hannah out of the corner of his mouth.

"Very good," she answered in the same manner. Then Harry saw Seamus, and his mouth acted before his brain did.

"Seamus? What are you doing here?"

Hannah's hand shot out to smack Harry's arm (she was going to teach him social graces even if it killed them both) as Seamus grinned and said "I'm Clara's 'plus two.'"

"I didn't think we gave Clara a plus two," Harry muttered to Hannah.

"We didn't," she muttered back.

"Can we feed another person?"

"We'll have to."

"Hannah, I'm so sorry about Seamus. We tried to leave him at home," Clara explained, "but it turns out he's learned to unlock doors. And then we thought we lost him three blocks ago, but apparently he knows where you live and he got here before us. I didn't even realise he knew where we were going." She cast Hannah an apologetic look.

"It was in your diary," Seamus said helpfully.

Clara wheeled around to glare at him. "You read my diary?"

"Don't worry, it was definitely your diary, not your journal. Your diary's the one with all the numbers."

"How do you know about my journal?" she hissed.

"I didn't know it was your journal. I thought it was just a rather sad handwritten book. Then I found my name." He beamed happily.

"There were layers and layers of spells and wards around my journal!"

"And it took me a good half hour to make my way in. Honestly, after all that effort, I was hoping for something more… intriguing."

Flexing her fingers, but apparently deciding against disembowelling Seamus on the Potters' front porch, Clara turned back to Harry and Hannah. "Hannah, I know this is a bit of an inconvenience, but do you think you could scrounge up something for Seamus, perhaps a piece of stale bread?"

Hannah frowned. "Oh, we can make it stretch. We'll pull out Amy's cake, and I've got some leftover pasta in the fridge, it's no trouble."

"No, no, I insist," Clara said sweetly. "Just a piece of stale bread."

—Real Life Sucks—

As it turned out, there was a bit more stretching to be done than Hannah had thought. Harry had forgotten to mention that he'd seen David and Horatio, and invited them to come with a friend each. And she'd invited her five volunteers from that day, and then Seamus had come, and the steaks were rather smaller than she'd thought, and half the potato bake had burned in the pan.

She wasn't a bad cook, on the whole. She'd managed to feed her family without any trips to the Hospital Wing so far, but she'd started rather later than she should have, and she wasn't quite used to cooking so many dishes at once, and then Issy had really wanted her hair braided, and… well, everything had gone a little pear-shaped.

But Clara had brought a cheese platter, and Ernie, declaring he would have felt awkward turning up empty handed, had brought a salad and a bottle of wine. Sally-Anne Fleet, upon hearing that Harry had turned a third of the sausages into charcoal, ducked home and picked up the lasagne she'd made for the next night's dinner. And it turned out that Hermione could work wonders with flour, water and a little yeast – cooking charms were something she'd looked into extensively – so they ended up with five loaves of fresh bread, and an apology that they weren't as good as they could have been if left to rise naturally.

Susan had turned up with a crotchety old elf, a bawling toddler and four dozen pastries – she'd felt awful about leaving Robert Hilliard alone with three children, but would have felt worse about turning up with four extra people and no notice at all. So she'd picked up the worst-behaved child, and brought pastries as an apology.

"-and then I ran out of jam halfway through the third batch, but I had some cheese and bacon and spinach in the fridge, so I just chopped that all up. Turned out that I'd done too much, and you can't put that stuff back in the fridge, so I just whipped up another dozen," Susan finished with a grin.

Hannah gaped at her. "You brought nearly fifty pastries?"

"Well, you said there'd be about twenty-five or thirty people, so I decided to make enough for one each, which was three dozen with a few left over. And then I had to do something with the cheese-bacon-spinach mixture, so I had to make more."

"So you're telling me you brought nearly fifty pastries to make up for bringing a single toddler?"

"I won't say that if you don't want me to," Susan said, holding out the basket of pastries.

Harry came around the corner, looking for Hannah, and saw the basket. "Is that more food? Thank Merlin; Susan, you're a lifesaver." He gave her an impulsive hug, grabbed the basket, and disappeared outside.

The unexpected contact made the toddler start crying again, and Susan hitched him up on her hip.

"It's okay, Ambrose, it's okay. Look, Annie's about your age, would you like to play with Annie? There you go sweetheart. Annie, this is Ambrose, would you mind looking after him for me? There you go sweetheart."

Uncle Theodore, the elderly elf, was tucked into the most comfortable armchair in the lounge room with a cup of tea and a pastry, and Issy and Charity staring at him from under a table.

—Real Life Sucks—

There was something about this sort of gathering, Ernie thought, that meant it didn't matter that the sausages were a bit crispy, or that the cheese platter didn't have crackers.

It was just really nice to be able to relax and talk with people, without having to worry about cooking (though nearly everyone had contributed in one way or another) or your children (everyone was keeping a general eye on all the kids).

He was currently having a wonderful chat with Clara, Sally-Anne, Herbert and Alice Maud about their classes – the only thing the four of them really had in common, seeing how Alice was several years below them, and Sally-Anne was from a different House.

"I'm actually considering History of Magic a worthwhile subject now that Professor Boxwell is teaching it," Alice was saying. "I was really considering dropping it this year, which is a shame because I loved history in primary school. Professor Binns wasn't bad, he just…"

"Was rather single-minded in his focus on goblins and their rebellions?" Clara suggested.

"Exactly. Last lesson, we learned about why we have the Statute of Secrecy, and the witch hunts and all that. Whenever Professor Binns mentioned them, they sounded more like old people bickering over silverware than the biggest threat Wizarding Britain faced for four hundred years. I mean, the way Professor Boxwell describes it, it's like you're watching people being dragged off to be burned at the stake-"

"Did someone say human sacrifice?" Seamus broke in brightly.

—Real Life Sucks—

"It's a wonderful party, Hannah," Androna Lynchwood said, helping her scrape food scraps off dirty plates and stack them into the dishwasher. "It's a shame Ron couldn't make it."

"Well, actually, Ron wasn't invited," Hannah admitted.

"Really?" She frowned. "I thought he was Harry's best friend."

"Yes, but, well… This was actually just for, well, my friends, mainly the Hufflepuffs. We're having one next weekend for Harry's friends."

Adrona's brow crinkled as she leaned against the counter. "Oh, I see. I hadn't realised you were such good friends with Neville Longbottom."

"I'm not really, but he's kind of living with Padma."

"And Padma's here because-"

"-because she's helping me with the daycare. That's why the younger students are here too. And Draco's here because he lives here, and Annie's here because he's her dad, and Hermione's here because it's Hermione's week to look after Annie. And Clara brought Dean, and Seamus came along unexpectedly, and I couldn't invite Ernie without bringing Daphne, and then David and Horatio brought a friend each, and… well, to be honest, I don't think I could cope with many more people than this."

—Real Life Sucks—

Neville wasn't much better at cleaning the barbeque than Harry was, so they'd done their best and given up, turning instead to a subject Neville had a lot more experience in: gardening.

"Padma said you were starting a vegetable patch, for teaching the kids with. If you'd like, I can give you a few plants to get you started."

"Oh, we couldn't possibly," Harry said, after pausing a second to recall Hannah's brief lesson in social graces. "You've worked hard on those, we couldn't take them away from you."

"Oh no, please do," Neville said, with a faint air of desperation. "I've got so much growing I'm practically swamped. The pumpkin vines have gone nuts, the tomatoes are taller than my head, and they haven't even started putting out fruit yet. My cabbages just keep growing, even with Gabriel doing his best. I don't know what I'll do with it all."

"Someone say cabbages?" Ernie wandered over.

"Nev's up to his ears in them," Harry answered.

"Have you considered selling them?" Herbert Fleet had followed Ernie.

"Selling them? Can I do that?"

"Sure," Herbert answered. "If you're worried about McGonagall, just do it on the sly. I'd pay you two sickles for a cabbage."

"House elves are selling them for five," Ernie pointed out. "Big as your head, five sickles. How big're yours, Neville?"

Neville shrugged, then held out his arms to make an approximate circle. "Maybe that big?"

Ernie's eyes widened. "Much bigger than my head," he managed.

Herbert gaped for a minute, then cleared his throat. "Three sickles. And two knuts."

"Done!" Neville said triumphantly. Harry gave him a funny look. "What? I didn't pay for the seeds, just asked Sprout and got 'em free, and I don't have to do much to look after them. Galapagos tortoise droppings work wonders, apparently."

—Real Life Sucks—

Clara's teeth were making unfortunate grinding noises by the time Hannah left the house. A little worried by the intensity of Clara's glare, Hannah opted to wave a biscuit in the path of her gaze, and see if it caught fire. It didn't, but it did manage to distract Clara.

"What? Oh, hey Hannah," Clara said, taking the biscuit.

"And whose house do I need to egg?" Hannah asked conversationally.

"Egg?" Clara looked a little taken aback, and Hannah made a decent impression of Clara's death glare. "Oh, nobody's. If you egged anyone's house, it would have to be mine."

"Yours? Well, that could be arranged if you really wanted. So, what's the problem with your charming housemates?"

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with Dean. Apart from being stupid enough to have a fake name, he's fine. Manages to make edible food, is pretty good about doing his own washing, and the only time he really bugs me is when there's no food in the house, and that's only to see if there's anything I want from the shops. He's a bit careless about finances, but that's to be expected from anyone our age."

"Sounds wonderful. And your… ah… other housemate?" Hannah hazarded, passing Clara another biscuit. The first had been reduced to crumbs by Clara's irritation.

"Seamus is… well," Clara paused, searching for the right word.

"Irritating?" Hannah supplied.

"Insufferable!" she exploded. "Leaves dirty laundry all over the place, and I have to do it for him because every time he's done it, the washing machine disintegrates! In and out of the house at all hours, no regard for propriety, eats like a horse – which is fine, because teenage boys all eat like that – but he never cooks, never contributes to house finances, doesn't go to the shop except for sweets, disrupts all my paperwork, and doesn't even have a job!"

Hannah quietly brushed crumbs off her face. Clara's fury was impressive to behold. Rather than getting louder, she'd gotten more pointed, more icy, and more emphatic with her biscuit.

"Have you spoken to Seamus about this?" Hannah asked.

"Well… not exactly, but my diary? My paperwork? Three different wards that he deliberately breaks just so he can and I quote 'make sure I'm not breaking poor David's heart by having trysts with other men.' And the pantry-"

"Seamus! What have you done?"

"Ah, Clara, there you are. I've been meaning to have a word with you. Did you know there're locks on the pantry? They got a bit damaged when I went looking for food, but I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Clara, you forgot to give me a key to the fridge. Don't worry, I picked the locks. No harm no foul."

"Seamus, that's meant to be dinner! I spent all morning cooking that!"

"Did you? Well, all your hard work paid off. It tastes amazing."

"Dean, have you seen the salmon?"

"It was on the top shelf, last I saw."

"Well, it's not there. I can't see it. Seamus, have you seen- that's Thursday's dinner! I labelled it and everything."

"Well, I didn't want it for Thursday dinner, I wanted it for Tuesday lunch."

"That was enough to feed three people for two meals."

"And I am pleasantly full, and probably won't want a large dinner. I wouldn't count on it though. You know, I am a growing boy."

"-well, we moved past labelling rather quickly. I am almost at the point of charming things invisible. Sweet Merlin, it's not like I didn't give the boy a few hints."

"Seamus, we're out of milk."

"That's alright, I'll just have toast."

"Clara, the cheese is nearly gone."

"Maybe you could pick some up from the shop on your way home?"

"Seamus, where's the cheese?"

"Cheese?"

"Yes. I asked you to get some."

"Oh, the shop wasn't on my way home."

"Seamus, why are there scones floating around my kitchen?"

"They're practicing acrobatics."

"They're leaving crumbs everywhere."

"Fine, fine." The scones dropped to the floor.

"Well, gee thanks, Seamus. That's so much better. I wasn't planning on taking them for my lunch or anything."

"Really? Good. You won't miss them then."

"And the few times Dean and I actually manage to sit down and do our paperwork, he's wreaking havoc! He replaced all our ink with Weasley's invisible ink, right before I started that report for the office. He swapped out all of Dean's ink, and wasn't that fun to explain to the professors. He played hide-and-seek with my best quills, and any paper left unattended for more a minute gets one of his, ah, lovely cartoons."

"I thought Dean was the artist?"

"He is. I didn't say Seamus's were any good. In fact, they're mainly violent explosions of ink."

"Sounds about right." Hannah paused for a moment, then tactfully said "Sounds like Seamus has a bit much time on his hands."

"Well, we've suggested he find a job, but there's not much enthusiasm behind that. And Seamus is taking minimal classes, he did most of them last year."

"You sound like you need a good cup of tea. Come on, I'll put the kettle on. How are you holding up?"

"So help me, Seamus Finnegan, if you don't start helping around the house I'm kicking you out onto the street!"

"Sister-in-law! Think of poor David! You'll break his heart!"

"Poor David can shove his broken heart up-"

"Sister-in-law!" Seamus sounded absolutely scandalised. "Think of the children!"

"I haven't bloody well got any!" Clara screamed. "Except for YOU!"

"Is this about the time two years ago when I insinuated that you were pregnant because you'd packed on a little bit around the-"

"No it's not! And it's not about the time in New York, or the time at my own reception, or in your best man's speech, or any other time except that time two hours ago when you decided to test how well my favourite crockery flew, and then thought you'd see how far you could make the flour spread, and then tested the combustibility of the house cushions, and then completely crushed my flower beds-"

"One of the frogs was getting away-"

"They're practically wild, Seamus! We've got a hundred other frogs! Nobody cares about the frogs, but I care that my peonies and dahlias are completely ruined! I'm going to kill you! They won't find all the pieces of you without a week of looking!"

Seamus was only saved from complete dismemberment by Dean's fortuitous arrival.

"Save me David!" he shrieked, crouching behind Dean. "She's gone mental!"

"I was only out for three hours," Dean said. "What have you done?"

"Well, we've come to something of a compromise," Clara said delicately.

—Real Life Sucks—

"You know," Dean mused to Harry, as they carried Dean's contribution to the party – a crate of butterbeer, recently purchased from the shop – up the front steps. "I think Seamus just enjoys pushing Clara's buttons."

—Real Life Sucks—

Horatio Warrenway had quickly become accustomed to a certain type of strangeness (as came with being the eldest 'child' of Harry Potter and Hannah Abbott), but this was weird, even by his standards.

He'd been playing hide-and-seek with his 'sisters' and various other children, and had been just about to dramatically swoop down onto a poorly-concealed child – honestly, the way they giggled, it was like they wanted to be found.

"Is there anyone over here?" Muffled giggling. "Anyone up here? Behind this chair?" He paused in fake confusion. "Where can they possibly be?"

"You're being silly," Isrira Potter popped up from behind the couch with a scowl and crossed arms.

"Ah-ha!" Horatio exclaimed. "Got you!"

She gave a squeak of indignation.

"Ha ha!" Faith's head popped out from behind the curtain as she laughed. "You got caught!"

"Found you," Horatio said, swinging around to point at her.

"Aw, man."

He was just preparing to check for any more hiders, when suddenly he was being swept up in a tide of small children – how had so many of them had been in that room, anyway?

"Where are we going? Stop pushing, I'm coming, I'm coming." He spied David Makehay, curled up in a corner of the couch, desperately hoping not to be noticed. That wouldn't do.

David squeaked as Horatio grabbed his collar and pulled him along to-

-the kitchen, where Hannah was waiting next to a seventh year he vaguely recognised from the Common Room.

Hannah clapped her hands, eyes roaming over the children, who were frantically arranging themselves into a line. David and Horatio hung back, not quite sure what was going on. Avrae reached back, grabbed David's hand, and yanked him into line next to her, while Issy did the same for Horatio.

"Okay, let's see. One, two, three, four, hello Horatio, five, David, lovely to see you, six, and you must be Neville and Padma's new boy."

"Yes ma'am. Garrett Kettlewell, fourth year, ma'am."

"Nice to meet you, Garrett. Have you met Horatio? He's a third year 'Puff." Horatio disentangled his hand from his sister's to shake Garrett's. "And David, he's in your house."

"Think I might have accidentally tripped over him about a month ago, sorry kid."

David tried valiantly to disentangle his hands from the children next to him, failed entirely, and managed a nod and a smile.

"Alright, now that we all know each other…" Hannah scanned the line again, "and we're all... here?" The last part was addressed to Padma, who'd just wandered into the kitchen.

"I dunno, it's your party. Hello Garrett."

"Well, it looks like we're all here. Minions." The children snapped to attention again, Issy poking David until he straightened up. "I have a very special mission for you." She led them quietly to the glass sliding door. "You see the man over there? The really messy-looking one next to Lady Alice?"

The assembled children nodded solemnly. Even with that rather vague description, it was easy to pick out Seamus. He'd decided to stand in the group of well-dressed purebloods, and he looked decidedly out of place.

"That's Mr Seamus Finnegan. He absolutely loves kids. And he's had a bit of a hard day, so I think it would be really nice if you went and gave him a great big hug. All of you. At the same time. As fast as you can. Understand?"

The children prepared themselves. The younger ones were excited about hugs. The older ones had translated Hannah's orders in a way that made sense to them, and were looking forward to a tactical assault with the aim to subdue the enemy.

Hannah was just about to slide the door open and give the order to attack, when a toilet flushed and small feet clattered down the stairs.

"Wait for me, Mrs Potter! Wait for me!" Charity slid into view, wiping her hands on her skirt. "What are we doing?"

"Attacking that guy," Miranda Fleet whispered, pointing out their target. "We're going to tackle him to the ground."

"Not quite the way I put it," Hannah admitted with a grin, "but close enough. Ready? Go!"

She slid the door open, and with whooping, shrieking, and various war cries, everyone under sixteen bolted towards Seamus.

He never knew what hit him.

—Real Life Sucks—

Ron Weasley was trying very hard to concentrate.

He was on a roll, he was actually having fun with this writing thing. Professor McGonagall might not exactly approve of the new direction this story was taking, but she'd left it in his hands, and by Merlin, he was going to make it a book worth reading.

If only he wasn't getting so distracted.

He'd been writing, actually fleshing out the summary he'd been given into proper chapters, and he was just coming up to the third victim. He could almost hear the howling rain, feel the seeping dread, see the glint of wand-light reflecting off the silver dagger as it descended in an ominous arc –

"You're it! Haha, can't get me!"

"Don't run so fast! I've got little legs."

"Issy, Han- Mum said not to go too far!"

"She won't know if you don't tell her, David!"

The noise outside Ron's window got even louder; apparently someone had supplied these incredibly noisy children with a dog.

"Good boy, Geoffrey! Good boy!"

Ron gritted his teeth and resolved to ignore the noise. In his mind, the knife was descending, glinting ominously, towards the terrified wizard, who shrieked as it –

The shrieks of the terrified wizard in Ron's head were abruptly replaced with the noisy shrieks of children, then with the screeching of a child in pain.

"Sorry, Annie, we didn't mean to knock you over. Look it's just a scrape, it'll be okay, please stop crying-"

Ron growled as he stood and crossed to the window. He flung it open and leaned out. "Will you kids put a cork in it?! I'm destroying people's lives here! I need peace and quiet!"

The children, several levels down on the street, stopped abruptly and stared at him. Then one of them screwed up his face and shouted back.

"It's not our fault Annie got hurt, so just, just, butt out!"

Caught up in the drama of horrific death-writing and riding the wave of writer's inspiration – the knife, glinting ominously as it swung down – Ron didn't quite think through his next words. "I was planning on killing a bunch of irritating gnomes next, but maybe I'll just settle for you lot instead!"

The children froze in terror, and he pulled his head inside, slamming the window closed behind him. The noise broke them from their stupor, and as one they bolted back to the Potter house, big wolf-dog-creature lolloping along behind them.

—Real Life Sucks—

"Mum! Mum!"

Hannah had been making a pot of tea with Isobel when a crowd of children streamed into the backyard. All the assembled adults stopped and stared.

"Muuuuuuuuuuuum!" Issy shrieked again.

Hannah stepped outside. "What is it, sweetheart?" she asked, alarmed.

"Uncle Ron's killing people and he said he'd kill us next!" the little girl continued, at the same volume.

"Calm down," Hannah instructed. "Tell me what happened."

"We were playing in the street, and Geoffrey knocked Annie over and she skinned her knee, and, and, and then someone opened a window up really high and it was Uncle Ron and he said he was going to kill us!"

"I'm sure that's not what he meant, sweetie-" Hannah tried, but David stepped in.

"He said he was trying to destroy people and he needed peace and quiet and then I said it wasn't our fault that Annie got hurt and then he said that he was planning on killing gnomes next but he'd just kill us instead." David finished wide-eyed. He hadn't interacted much with Ron Weasley, but he was a War Hero, which meant he was probably dangerous enough to do away with six kids without much effort.

Hannah took a deep breath. "Uncle Ron isn't actually killing anyone, alright? He's writing a book, remember?"

"Besides," Avrae piped up cheerfully. "Uncle Ron's always been nuts!"

—Real Life Sucks—

"Ron Weasley, you open this door right now!" Hermione yelled, banging on the door for a third time.

It finally opened, but Ron disappeared as soon as she caught sight of him. She followed him determinedly.

"What do you mean by terrorising children?"

"I'm on a roll, Hermione. They kept interrupting me just as I was about to disembowel the third victim!"

Hermione paused in the doorway of his study. Pages had drifted everywhere, and half-finished cups of tea littered the surface of the desk. She pulled herself together as her eyes fell upon stack of paper covered in Ron's writing.

"I thought your book was meant to be an action book?"

"It has lots of action," Ron argued, slashing through a few lines with his quill and starting again. "It just also has lots of death and mystery!"

"Don't you think the world has had enough of death and violence?" she asked weakly, picking up a page of a much edited manuscript.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, they'll all get a happy ending." She raised her eyebrows at another page, titled 'Victims.' "Well, some of them will, anyway." He swung around to face her with an exasperated sigh. "Someone will live to the end of the book, alright?"

"Your protagonist? From what I hear, he's a very popular character."

"I haven't decided yet," Ron said, turning back to his writing.

Hermione tried again. "Don't you want to write something a little more… uplifting?"

"The Happiest Little Elf has already been written, Hermione. Now if you'll excuse me, I have gnomes that need killing. And possibly several small children."

"Why are you killing garden gnomes?"

"Lockhart died two chapters ago, I can't very well kill him again," Ron said, with infallible logic.

Hermione sighed, and left him to it.

—Real Life Sucks—

The last of the cakes were being dished out when Hermione returned to the Potter residence. Hannah raised an eyebrow at her. "How'd it go?"

Hermione accepted a slice of cake with a grin, as those of her classmates closest to her turned an ear in her direction.

"I think it's safe to say that the Muses have found Ron and are holding him captive."

This didn't receive quite the reaction she expected.

"Holding him captive?"

"Should we go rescue him?"

"Muses? Aren't they those things Lovegood was going on about?"

Hermione glanced at Hannah in disbelief. Hannah shrugged helplessly.

"You know, Muses? Like, Ancient Greek goddesses?"

There was a general consensus that nobody had heard of these goddesses, and they couldn't have been very important. Hermione resisted the urge to smack some sense into the lot of them.

"Hannah, would you mind making sure nobody eats my cake? I've got to fetch something from my house. D'you mind if I borrow your television?"

—Real Life Sucks—

It had started as a bit of education for the 'adults,' morphed into entertainment for the children, and finally ended up with almost everyone crowded into the Potters' living room, watching the epic tale of Hercules.

The kids had started out on the couch, but a desire to be closer to the action had seen them sprawl across the floor in front of the television, propped up on cushions and pillows, and snuggled under blankets and quilts pilfered from every room in the house. The couch had been quickly stuffed as full as it could get with adults, and chairs from the dining room table brought in to seat those who didn't fit. As a last resort, the kitchen table itself had been dragged as quietly as possible into the room, and Hannah, Hermione and Miss Hazel were perched on the edge. Betsy, having decided her chair wasn't quite tall enough, had placed it on top of the table, and was rather impressed with the view from there.

The few adults who'd decided against watching it – Herbert, Sally-Anne, Daphne, and Draco (he'd seen it three times already, as it was one of Annie's favourites) – were talking quietly in the kitchen. Their attempts to bring around tea or more cake had been met with grumbles about blocking people's views, or making too much noise, so they were working slowly through the remaining cake and ice cream themselves.

After all, it would be a terrible shame for it to be wasted.

—Real Life Sucks—

It was hard to say when the barbeque ended. The cooking was long since finished, the food eaten and plates all stacked, but the first person had left before the movie was half finished – Susan had gotten up to put her plate away, realised the time, and quietly collected Ambrose from the lounge room, where he'd been napping with Sol Lynchwood under Uncle Theodore's careful supervision. She made her apologies to Hannah, and slipped away to ensure the Hilliard triplets all made it to bed.

Androna Lynchwood took that as her cue to collect her own child and take him home; Sol had started fussing as soon as he was moved, and Androna left quite quickly.

Daphne moved to collect her children and husband as soon as the movie ended, and thanked Hannah for inviting them all. Hannah thanked them for their contributions, and there were many goodbyes among the children, at which point many other parents decided it would be best for them to get going too.

Hermione left to put Annie to bed, and Isobel excused herself on the grounds of being pregnant. Hannah's four younger helpers were dispersing to their various Common Rooms, and Maria offered to take Garrett back to Slytherin with her, which led to them inviting to escort David, Horatio and their various guests back as well.

Issy and Avrae both declared flat-out that since it was a Friday night, their brothers would be staying at home thank you very much, and both guests happily agreed to stay as well, so couch cushions were dragged upstairs to make temporary mattresses on the floors of bedrooms. Garrett declined the invitation, and said his farewells to Neville and Padma.

With the younger students all out of the house or in bedrooms, and Avrae and Issy being tucked into bed, Draco Malfoy glanced around the room and declared that they had enough wine glasses, they were all adults, and they might as well open that wine that Ernie had brought.

—Real Life Sucks—

Draco and Clara, as the only two to have properly had wine before, poured small amounts into glasses for everyone, then sipped slowly at their wine and watched the others in amusement.

Harry, Hannah and Dean all copied their example, taking small mouthfuls and grimacing at the taste. They set theirs aside carefully, though occasionally took another sip, as if to remind themselves that they actually didn't like it.

Neville and Betsy both tried theirs, and managed to conceal their distaste. Neville kept hold of his, and pretended to drink from it whenever Draco did. Betsy surreptitiously poured hers into a potted plant, little by little.

Padma, though a little startled by the taste at first, seemed to like it. She finished her glass, and what was left of Neville's glass, with the reasoning that she wasn't actually pregnant, and it had been a challenging week.

Seamus took a big swig, then spat it back into his glass with a noise of disgust. In an effort to get it as far away from himself as possible, he chucked it over his shoulder, thankfully keeping hold of the glass.

"Seamus, that's my carpet!" Hannah cried in horror.

Seamus realised his mistake, fumbled for his wand and attempted a cleaning charm. It took two failed attempts and a blast of water, and the carpet was still partly pink. He pulled a chair over the damp spot in an attempt to hide it.

"And with that," Clara sighed, placing her empty glass on the counter and moving to collect her coat, "I think we should be going, before Seamus can cause any more damage."

"You wound me, sister-in-law," Seamus informed her flatly. "I don't think I can do much more damage than I've already done."

Dean happily tipped the dregs of his wine down the sink, then fastened his robe and shook Harry's hand. "Thanks for having us over. It was great fun."

"Thanks Hannah," Clara beamed, pulling her into a hug. "It's nice to be able to dress up once in a while, isn't it? We'll have to have you over to return the favour."

"I look forward to it," Hannah grinned back.

"Neville, Padma, Draco, lovely to have met you Betsy. Seamus, ready to go?"

Seamus was already at the front door. "Thanks for feeding us! Nice to see you all, chat later, yeah?" With a wave to everyone, he was on his way home.

Dean nodded to everyone again, then held out an arm for Clara. "May I escort you home, Mrs Beckham?"

Clara drew herself up with an air of formality. "You may, thank you Mr Beckham."

Betsy, seated nearest the window, thought they made a dashing sight, strolling down the street in their best clothes. Neville and Padma, seated on the couch, felt they ought to follow their example and head home as well. With hugs and handshakes, they too promised to have everyone round for dinner, and Betsy followed soon after, promising to be back in her free periods next week.

That left Harry, Hannah and Draco, finishing off their wine and looking at the jumble of dirty dishes, paper decorations, and stray blankets that littered the lounge room.

"Well," Draco said finally, placing his wineglass next to sink. "That could have gone worse, and all this cleanup looks like a job for tomorrow. Night all."

It had been fun, Harry thought, as he picked up his pillow and made his way to his room. But next time, someone else could be in charge of the sausages.

—Real Life Sucks—

My apologies. If you've read the newest chapter of A Road Less Travelled by Danicakate (which you should definitely read), you'll know that a lot has happened to my family since I last posted. I went overseas for a month, came back, finished a course, and finally got past my writers block. This one's been in the works for a while. I offer apology, but I guess you're used to it. I'm not sure when it'll come, but things to look out for in my next chapter…

A new character! I've been really looking forward to him, and I hope you give him a chance before you decide not to like him. Also, several amusing robberies, as promised several chapters ago. The introduction of a new challenge. Neville finally gets around to planning his proposal. We see what happened in the classrooms, which I was studiously ignoring in this chapter.

So yeah. Sorry. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. Happy Birthday to me (almost ten days ago, but who's counting?) And Happy Weekend – we're finally out of the monstrously long Friday!

Cheezels