My brain came up with
This is what happens when you start thinking about how Shaun White DOES look like Ron and Snape's child....
Party Game: Ron
It was just a parlor game. One said the incantation, crossed wands, and for a brief five seconds, the image of a child would float in the misty air above the wands. Each time a wand tapped against another, a different child appeared, even if the same two wands were crossed again. The spell showed you what a child of the two people involved might look like, or rather, it showed just one of the possible children that combination might produce. If done over and over between the same two people, each phantom child would look different, but quite similar. Variations on a theme.
It had started among the girls who were sitting in front of the main fire in the Gryffindor common room. Outside, the snow was falling, so almost everyone was present. One girl taught the incantation to another, and soon almost everyone was trying it. This magic was usually used as part of the engagement rites, to make sure that the two being bound could successfully produce children together. The truth of the matter was, certain witches and wizards were magically incompatible, and either produced squibs or no children at all. The simple spell allowed the man and woman to find out some of the possibilities ahead of time. It wasn't a foolproof, but in the wizarding world, if the crossed wands did not reveal a child's face, then the engagement party might not take place, and wizarding fathers and mothers consoled their children and sent them out to seek other mates.
The spell really wasn't designed for the light purpose the children were using it for, but there was no ill intent, so the prefects didn't call a halt to it. In fact, most of them joined in. It was interesting to discover that almost anyone crossed with Neville produced unremarkable children, or none at all. It was clear that he would have to take care when he chose a mate, if he wanted magic children. However, when Neville crossed wands with Anna Le Crosse, the children revealed were gorgeous, with a bright, intelligent look. The other students spent time teasing the two because Neville kept sneaking looks at her, and she him, and when their glances crossed they each turned red as a beet.
Ron discovered that no matter who he matched with, his kids were going to have red or brown hair. His shadow children had eyes of all colors, blue, green , hazel, brown or black. Hermione found the eyes fascinating because the eye colors did not follow the Muggle rules of genetics. She speculated about the effect of magic on conception, although it must be said that for the most part she was talking to herself.
Ron had, in jest, crossed wands with Dean and had been a little shocked at the lovely child revealed. Dark brown curling hair, coffee and cream skin, bright blue eyes, and a trace of freckles across the cheeks.
His sister, Ginny, however, had the widest variety of results. White-blond Denton Cornwall screeched with laughter when the girl he made with Ginny had strawberry gold hair and his upturned nose, and looked like a holy terror, partly because of a general resemblance to the twins, and he made her vow on the spot never to marry him. "You'd better not marry Malfoy either!" Ron had called to warn her, and received a pillow in the face for an answer.
When she crossed wands with Harry, three different times, the children all had varying shades of brown hair and hazel eyes. She kept wanting to do it over again, but you could tell it was starting to embarrass Harry.
The hour for dinner arrived, and all the students stopped their fun, pocketed their wands and went down to the Great Hall to eat. What happened next was one of those accidents that couldn't be predicted or even replicated. Someone let off one of the Super Pop & Stop whistles that the twins had recently added to their inventory. Just as Professor Snape was walking up between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, the thunderous crack, followed by a sharp whistle echoed through the hall. The teachers were on their feet in a flash, wands out. Harry's DA students also went into defensive mode automatically, including, of course, Ron. At the same time, Snape's wand whipped out and he pivoted rapidly on one foot to scan the hall for the danger.
Pure accident that the tip of Ron's wand brushed the edge of Snape's.
The image which blossomed above their wands was of an older child, a teenager only a few years younger than Ron. He had wild red hair, long and unruly, and lively laughing eyes. The wide mouth was caught in an exuberant grin, and sheer energy seemed to just radiate out of his thin body. His nose was large, his freckles generous, his teeth a little big and not perfectly straight. The boy wore a Quidditch uniform and he had red on his cheeks, as if he had been playing in the wind.
Five seconds. It seemed like longer. The image wavered, thinned and dissipated. Ron sat down with a thump on the bench. Snape gave him a poisonous look, straightened from his crouch and stalked up to the head table, while muttering a fierce, "Ten points from Gryffindor!"
Ron sat there, stunned. He didn't even react when McGonagal took ten points from Slytherin when it was discovered that Crabbe was the perpetrator of the prank.
"What's wrong?" Hermione whispered to him as the meal began.
But what could he say to that? How could he say that in only five seconds, he had fallen in love with a child who would never be born? That he yearned for those young arms to hang on his neck as he swung the boy through the air and then plopped him down high on his shoulders. Wanted to jump up and down in the stands and scream his support as the boy made impossible loops and daring plays on the Quidditch pitch. And not even the thought of who the other father was could dim the fierce longing that gripped his chest. His eyes prickled with tears he did not dare let fall.
Inside, he felt his hate for the Potions professor fight against new longings, his confusion made him surly and he put his head down over his plate and started to shovel food into his mouth because then he didn't have to think about any of it, and maybe no one would talk to him.
What a cruel, cruel spell. How stupid they had been, to play with it. Because, say he did do something as stupid as to somehow get Snape for his mate. Suppose he did something as painful as taking the male birth potion, risking his life to bear the child. Suppose he did. There was still no guarantee that this one particular child would be born. The child he had seen was only one of thousands of possibilities.
He wondered, then, if his own parents had crossed wands. Was that why they had child after child? Looking for a certain combination? He told himself that was ridiculous. It was just that they went on until they had a girl, everyone said so. Didn't matter. It still meant that he himself hadn't been what they wanted when they had him, because they tried again. Was Ginny what they wanted, or did they just give up? Did they, too, yearn for the child they had seen in the magic mist? Did your heart ache for the rest of your life for the child you couldn't make?
What was his name? He had the feeling that if he thought about it for a moment, he would know. He tried not to think about it. He knew instinctively that knowing the name would make it all worse.
"Ron?" whispered Harry. "Is everything all right?"
"Yagh," he said through his mouthful of food. He darted a glance out from under his fringe at the head table. Snape was exchanging a few words with Madam Hooch who was sitting beside him, and this gave a profile of his sharp nose and narrow chin. The lank hair lay across his cheek and obscured his eyes. Nasty git. How could even magic pull that beautiful kid from this sour old freak? Would he be as cruel to his own child as he was to the students?
Ron gave a sigh, pushed his bowl away, and let his head fall down to the table top. He lifted his head a bit and let it fall to the wood with a thunk. He did it again, and then again, hoping the pain would let his mind stop thinking about it. Please. Thump. Please. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Let me forget that.
Please.
Party Game: Ron
It was just a parlor game. One said the incantation, crossed wands, and for a brief five seconds, the image of a child would float in the misty air above the wands. Each time a wand tapped against another, a different child appeared, even if the same two wands were crossed again. The spell showed you what a child of the two people involved might look like, or rather, it showed just one of the possible children that combination might produce. If done over and over between the same two people, each phantom child would look different, but quite similar. Variations on a theme.
It had started among the girls who were sitting in front of the main fire in the Gryffindor common room. Outside, the snow was falling, so almost everyone was present. One girl taught the incantation to another, and soon almost everyone was trying it. This magic was usually used as part of the engagement rites, to make sure that the two being bound could successfully produce children together. The truth of the matter was, certain witches and wizards were magically incompatible, and either produced squibs or no children at all. The simple spell allowed the man and woman to find out some of the possibilities ahead of time. It wasn't a foolproof, but in the wizarding world, if the crossed wands did not reveal a child's face, then the engagement party might not take place, and wizarding fathers and mothers consoled their children and sent them out to seek other mates.
The spell really wasn't designed for the light purpose the children were using it for, but there was no ill intent, so the prefects didn't call a halt to it. In fact, most of them joined in. It was interesting to discover that almost anyone crossed with Neville produced unremarkable children, or none at all. It was clear that he would have to take care when he chose a mate, if he wanted magic children. However, when Neville crossed wands with Anna Le Crosse, the children revealed were gorgeous, with a bright, intelligent look. The other students spent time teasing the two because Neville kept sneaking looks at her, and she him, and when their glances crossed they each turned red as a beet.
Ron discovered that no matter who he matched with, his kids were going to have red or brown hair. His shadow children had eyes of all colors, blue, green , hazel, brown or black. Hermione found the eyes fascinating because the eye colors did not follow the Muggle rules of genetics. She speculated about the effect of magic on conception, although it must be said that for the most part she was talking to herself.
Ron had, in jest, crossed wands with Dean and had been a little shocked at the lovely child revealed. Dark brown curling hair, coffee and cream skin, bright blue eyes, and a trace of freckles across the cheeks.
His sister, Ginny, however, had the widest variety of results. White-blond Denton Cornwall screeched with laughter when the girl he made with Ginny had strawberry gold hair and his upturned nose, and looked like a holy terror, partly because of a general resemblance to the twins, and he made her vow on the spot never to marry him. "You'd better not marry Malfoy either!" Ron had called to warn her, and received a pillow in the face for an answer.
When she crossed wands with Harry, three different times, the children all had varying shades of brown hair and hazel eyes. She kept wanting to do it over again, but you could tell it was starting to embarrass Harry.
The hour for dinner arrived, and all the students stopped their fun, pocketed their wands and went down to the Great Hall to eat. What happened next was one of those accidents that couldn't be predicted or even replicated. Someone let off one of the Super Pop & Stop whistles that the twins had recently added to their inventory. Just as Professor Snape was walking up between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, the thunderous crack, followed by a sharp whistle echoed through the hall. The teachers were on their feet in a flash, wands out. Harry's DA students also went into defensive mode automatically, including, of course, Ron. At the same time, Snape's wand whipped out and he pivoted rapidly on one foot to scan the hall for the danger.
Pure accident that the tip of Ron's wand brushed the edge of Snape's.
The image which blossomed above their wands was of an older child, a teenager only a few years younger than Ron. He had wild red hair, long and unruly, and lively laughing eyes. The wide mouth was caught in an exuberant grin, and sheer energy seemed to just radiate out of his thin body. His nose was large, his freckles generous, his teeth a little big and not perfectly straight. The boy wore a Quidditch uniform and he had red on his cheeks, as if he had been playing in the wind.
Five seconds. It seemed like longer. The image wavered, thinned and dissipated. Ron sat down with a thump on the bench. Snape gave him a poisonous look, straightened from his crouch and stalked up to the head table, while muttering a fierce, "Ten points from Gryffindor!"
Ron sat there, stunned. He didn't even react when McGonagal took ten points from Slytherin when it was discovered that Crabbe was the perpetrator of the prank.
"What's wrong?" Hermione whispered to him as the meal began.
But what could he say to that? How could he say that in only five seconds, he had fallen in love with a child who would never be born? That he yearned for those young arms to hang on his neck as he swung the boy through the air and then plopped him down high on his shoulders. Wanted to jump up and down in the stands and scream his support as the boy made impossible loops and daring plays on the Quidditch pitch. And not even the thought of who the other father was could dim the fierce longing that gripped his chest. His eyes prickled with tears he did not dare let fall.
Inside, he felt his hate for the Potions professor fight against new longings, his confusion made him surly and he put his head down over his plate and started to shovel food into his mouth because then he didn't have to think about any of it, and maybe no one would talk to him.
What a cruel, cruel spell. How stupid they had been, to play with it. Because, say he did do something as stupid as to somehow get Snape for his mate. Suppose he did something as painful as taking the male birth potion, risking his life to bear the child. Suppose he did. There was still no guarantee that this one particular child would be born. The child he had seen was only one of thousands of possibilities.
He wondered, then, if his own parents had crossed wands. Was that why they had child after child? Looking for a certain combination? He told himself that was ridiculous. It was just that they went on until they had a girl, everyone said so. Didn't matter. It still meant that he himself hadn't been what they wanted when they had him, because they tried again. Was Ginny what they wanted, or did they just give up? Did they, too, yearn for the child they had seen in the magic mist? Did your heart ache for the rest of your life for the child you couldn't make?
What was his name? He had the feeling that if he thought about it for a moment, he would know. He tried not to think about it. He knew instinctively that knowing the name would make it all worse.
"Ron?" whispered Harry. "Is everything all right?"
"Yagh," he said through his mouthful of food. He darted a glance out from under his fringe at the head table. Snape was exchanging a few words with Madam Hooch who was sitting beside him, and this gave a profile of his sharp nose and narrow chin. The lank hair lay across his cheek and obscured his eyes. Nasty git. How could even magic pull that beautiful kid from this sour old freak? Would he be as cruel to his own child as he was to the students?
Ron gave a sigh, pushed his bowl away, and let his head fall down to the table top. He lifted his head a bit and let it fall to the wood with a thunk. He did it again, and then again, hoping the pain would let his mind stop thinking about it. Please. Thump. Please. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Let me forget that.
Please.