Ficlet: Mum Knows Best
Title: Mum Knows Best
Word Count and Rating: 848, G
Summary: When Albus falls prey to yet another practical joke, Ginny gives her son the benefit of her experience.
Notes: Written for 100quills prompt #009 Metal. Rose and Albus are maybe 5 or 6 years old here.
“Albus! Don't worry! I'm back, and I brought your mum.”
Ginny hurried to keep up with her small niece, their feet crunching through the snow. Perhaps it wasn't too late, she thought silently, to exchange James's Christmas presents for lumps of coal instead. Depending on how bad off Albus was, she was seriously considering it.
Christmastime filled the Burrow near to bursting with with Potters and Weasleys, and all the children had been shuffled outside as a result. Although most of Arthur and Molly's grandchildren had been content to play in the snow, when Rose had burst into the kitchen yelling about James and Al's tongue, Ginny knew her eldest was up to his favorite pastime: tormenting his little brother.
Rose and Ginny rounded the corner of Arthur's shed. “Oh, Al,” Ginny said, jogging up to where her son was hunched over, crying quietly, tongue frozen to the icy metal of the door handle.
“Muh!” Albus looked up at her as best he could, eyes full of misery.
“Shh, don't try to talk.” Ginny pulled her wand from her sleeve. A quiet Aguamenti bathed the handle in warm water and set Albus free.
“See, Aly?” Rose patted Albus on the back as he sniffed and pinched his tongue. “Mums always know what to do.”
Ginny spared a her a quick smile and light touch on her blue and white capped head before focusing on Albus again. “Let me see, sweetheart.” Albus's tongue was a little red at the tip, but otherwise looked all right. “I think you'll live.” Ginny kissed the tip of his nose and used his woolly scarf to wipe the last tears from his eyes. “Would some hot chocolate make it better?” Albus nodded and leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder.
Ginny picked him up, realizing with a pang that he was almost too big for her to carry, and began walking back to the Burrow. “Honey, I've told you before not to put your tongue or wet fingers on very cold metal. Why would you do that?”
Literally holding his tongue again, Albus just shrugged.
“James was egging him on,” Rose said helpfully. She high-stepped through the snow, her breath a cloud around her face. “He said nothing would happen and that Al was just a yellow-belly.”
Ginny rubbed Albus's back. “I've also told you not to listen to your brother.”
“Is James in trouble? He should be.” Rose chewed on the end of her long, coppery braid and continued without pausing. “I'm glad I'm the firstborn. I would never be so mean to Hugo.”
“Yes, James is in trouble.” Ginny stopped a few meters from the kitchen door and set Albus on his feet. “You know, when I was about your age,” she said, smoothing Albus's fringe, “Uncle Ron did the same thing to me.”
“Really?” “My Dad?” Albus and Rose asked simultaneously.
“Um-hm,” she answered them both.
“Did he get in trouble?” Rose stuck her hands on her hips, as if prepared to march into the Burrow and sit her father in the corner.
“He did, and so did I.”
Albus's brow wrinkled. “But why did you get in trouble, Mum?”
“Because I got him back, with a little help from Uncle George and Uncle Fred.” Ginny absorbed the now familiar ache at the thought of her late brother. “We came up with a way to stick Ron to the toilet the next time he sat down.” She smiled as Albus and Rose burst into giggles. “We did such a good job of it,” Ginny continued, “that Grandmum couldn't get him loose, and Uncle Ron had to go to St. Mungo's with the toilet seat stuck to his bum.” She grinned at the memory.
“It was wrong of us, I suppose,” speaking over their laughter, “but it was better than any punishment our Mum could come up with, and it was certainly the last time Ron pulled anything like that with me.” Ginny pretended not to notice the way Albus raised his eyebrows questioningly at Rose or her niece's enthusiastic nod in return.
“Um, Aunt Ginny? Is Uncle George here yet?” Rose was all big eyes and innocence. Albus, knowing his strengths, stared down at his toes and kept quiet.
“Yes,” Ginny struggled to keep the thread of laughter out of her voice. “He, Angelina, and your cousins just arrived a little while ago. Why?”
“No reason,” they yelled together and ran hand-in-hand for the door.
“What about your hot chocolate?”
“Maybe later,” Albus yelled over his shoulder as they disappeared into the Burrow.
Ginny followed more slowly to find Harry waiting for her with a steaming mug of peppermint cocoa and open arms.
“Everything all right?” His lips were hot against her cheek.
“Sure, Al's fine.”
Harry cocked his head to one side at her calm tone. “How should we punish James this time?”
Ginny smirked and slipped her cold hands into Harry's back pockets just to feel him jump. “You know what? This time I think we'll let Al handle it himself.”
Word Count and Rating: 848, G
Summary: When Albus falls prey to yet another practical joke, Ginny gives her son the benefit of her experience.
Notes: Written for 100quills prompt #009 Metal. Rose and Albus are maybe 5 or 6 years old here.
“Albus! Don't worry! I'm back, and I brought your mum.”
Ginny hurried to keep up with her small niece, their feet crunching through the snow. Perhaps it wasn't too late, she thought silently, to exchange James's Christmas presents for lumps of coal instead. Depending on how bad off Albus was, she was seriously considering it.
Christmastime filled the Burrow near to bursting with with Potters and Weasleys, and all the children had been shuffled outside as a result. Although most of Arthur and Molly's grandchildren had been content to play in the snow, when Rose had burst into the kitchen yelling about James and Al's tongue, Ginny knew her eldest was up to his favorite pastime: tormenting his little brother.
Rose and Ginny rounded the corner of Arthur's shed. “Oh, Al,” Ginny said, jogging up to where her son was hunched over, crying quietly, tongue frozen to the icy metal of the door handle.
“Muh!” Albus looked up at her as best he could, eyes full of misery.
“Shh, don't try to talk.” Ginny pulled her wand from her sleeve. A quiet Aguamenti bathed the handle in warm water and set Albus free.
“See, Aly?” Rose patted Albus on the back as he sniffed and pinched his tongue. “Mums always know what to do.”
Ginny spared a her a quick smile and light touch on her blue and white capped head before focusing on Albus again. “Let me see, sweetheart.” Albus's tongue was a little red at the tip, but otherwise looked all right. “I think you'll live.” Ginny kissed the tip of his nose and used his woolly scarf to wipe the last tears from his eyes. “Would some hot chocolate make it better?” Albus nodded and leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder.
Ginny picked him up, realizing with a pang that he was almost too big for her to carry, and began walking back to the Burrow. “Honey, I've told you before not to put your tongue or wet fingers on very cold metal. Why would you do that?”
Literally holding his tongue again, Albus just shrugged.
“James was egging him on,” Rose said helpfully. She high-stepped through the snow, her breath a cloud around her face. “He said nothing would happen and that Al was just a yellow-belly.”
Ginny rubbed Albus's back. “I've also told you not to listen to your brother.”
“Is James in trouble? He should be.” Rose chewed on the end of her long, coppery braid and continued without pausing. “I'm glad I'm the firstborn. I would never be so mean to Hugo.”
“Yes, James is in trouble.” Ginny stopped a few meters from the kitchen door and set Albus on his feet. “You know, when I was about your age,” she said, smoothing Albus's fringe, “Uncle Ron did the same thing to me.”
“Really?” “My Dad?” Albus and Rose asked simultaneously.
“Um-hm,” she answered them both.
“Did he get in trouble?” Rose stuck her hands on her hips, as if prepared to march into the Burrow and sit her father in the corner.
“He did, and so did I.”
Albus's brow wrinkled. “But why did you get in trouble, Mum?”
“Because I got him back, with a little help from Uncle George and Uncle Fred.” Ginny absorbed the now familiar ache at the thought of her late brother. “We came up with a way to stick Ron to the toilet the next time he sat down.” She smiled as Albus and Rose burst into giggles. “We did such a good job of it,” Ginny continued, “that Grandmum couldn't get him loose, and Uncle Ron had to go to St. Mungo's with the toilet seat stuck to his bum.” She grinned at the memory.
“It was wrong of us, I suppose,” speaking over their laughter, “but it was better than any punishment our Mum could come up with, and it was certainly the last time Ron pulled anything like that with me.” Ginny pretended not to notice the way Albus raised his eyebrows questioningly at Rose or her niece's enthusiastic nod in return.
“Um, Aunt Ginny? Is Uncle George here yet?” Rose was all big eyes and innocence. Albus, knowing his strengths, stared down at his toes and kept quiet.
“Yes,” Ginny struggled to keep the thread of laughter out of her voice. “He, Angelina, and your cousins just arrived a little while ago. Why?”
“No reason,” they yelled together and ran hand-in-hand for the door.
“What about your hot chocolate?”
“Maybe later,” Albus yelled over his shoulder as they disappeared into the Burrow.
Ginny followed more slowly to find Harry waiting for her with a steaming mug of peppermint cocoa and open arms.
“Everything all right?” His lips were hot against her cheek.
“Sure, Al's fine.”
Harry cocked his head to one side at her calm tone. “How should we punish James this time?”
Ginny smirked and slipped her cold hands into Harry's back pockets just to feel him jump. “You know what? This time I think we'll let Al handle it himself.”