Rabbit: December 1967
Title: Rabbit
Chapter Number/Title: December 1967: Christmas (10/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 1003
Workshop?: Suggestions always welcome.
December 25, 1967
Christmas
Rabbit snuggled under a blanket by the fire, torn between a cozy sleepiness and an excitement about the holiday. Bits of shimmering paper lay around him, discarded from the toys and sweets that they had covered.
They had opened their stockings first, and now most of the presents from the tree had been opened, too. Rabastan and Rodolphus had apparently had a good year, judging from the amount of presents Father Christmas had sent them this winter.
“All right, little Rabbit,” Grandmother was saying. “Open our present.”
Rabastan looked around and everyone nodded in agreement. Christmas was special for a lot of reasons, but one of them was that being the youngest meant that he got to go first, instead of last. One of the elves floated a large red box forward and set it at the boy’s feet.
He looked for the spell-o-taped corners and undid the first carefully.
“Oh, just rip on in,” encouraged Rodolphus.
Rabbit grinned at his older brother and was happy to oblige. He tore across the huge field of wrapping paper to reveal a translucent box containing what had to be the shiniest, most enchanting train set he had ever seen.
“It’s a perfect model of the Hogwarts Express,” explained Grandmother. “Far better quality than the shoddy sets they sell retail in Diagon.”
Rabastan, honestly, could not have cared less who made the miniature train. “Thank you! So much! Can I set it up now?”
Father looked down with a clear answer in his face. “After dinner. Rodolphus? Why don’t you start with ours?”
Rabbit watched as his older brother pulled a small box off from two larger ones. He took no care saving the golden paper, and soon had drawn out two little figurines.
“What is it?” said Rabastan, too eager to remember not to speak out of turn.
Rodolphus put one on each hand and showed them to Rabbit. They were enchanting little creatures: in the left hand, a model chestnut pony stomped and shook its head; in the right, a cheerful retriever puppy chased its tail. The older boy looked mildly pleased, but not altogether satisfied. He set the toy animals on the low table and began to open the next box.
“Oh!” came his cry of satisfaction, and he pulled out a smooth pair of leather riding boots. “For--” he looked between the model pony and his new boots, and satisfaction crept over his face. He ripped into the final box and drew out a brand new set of hunting robes.
“Spiffing!” Rabastan beamed in admiration as Rodolphus tried on the outer robe and modeled it. He watched as his brother went to hug Maman and thank Father. Finally, Dolph came back and nudged a present over to Rabbit.
Rabbit smiled cheerfully and unwrapped the present-delicately, this time, because the wrapping paper of falling snowflakes was too keen to destroy. It turned out to be a picture-book about wizards around the world. He opened up the pages, which held loads of information and intricate illustrations with wizards in funny robes sending spells at each other. “Thanks, Dolphin!”
Rodolphus nodded and leaned over toward the book. “You like it?”
“Yes! Of course--” he started, before getting distracted by a new page, this one about Bolivian wizards.
“Rabastan, open our present,” ordered Grandfather in between puffs on a pipe.
Rabastan furrowed his brow. “I already did, Grandfather. You mean Rodolphus?”
“Yes, that's what I said.”
The little boy bit back a laugh and looked to his brother. Another red package appeared on the table, and Rodolphus took it in his hands. Hardly a moment passed and the wrapping was off to reveal a dark wooden box covered in shimmering runes.
“What does it do?” Rodolphus’ voice was almost a whisper, of pure excitement.
“You don’t know?” Grandfather bit his pipe and leaned forward, laughing at some joke that must have been only in his head. “Well, that first rune, that means power, and next to it, that’s the mind, and-”
“Monsieur Lestrange!” Maman had been quiet for so long that the chiding tone of her voice startled Rabbit. “I thought we talked about this, did we not?”
Rabastan’s eyes were wide in shock. He could normally tell when Maman disagreed with something, but she never scolded other adults in public. The other three grown-ups made it clear that they were as taken aback as the child.
Grandmother pursed her lips and looked coolly with pale blue eyes at her daughter-in-law. “Angelique, I hardly think this is the time or place for this conversation.”
Maman’s face firmed into a statue of defiance. “Well, Perpetua, apparently you will not accept the agreement of a conversation from another time or place. He is my son, no?”
The tension in the room was clear to all, even little Rabbit, who swallowed and tried to pretend as if his train set was far more interesting than this conversation.
“Come now, Angela, it’s only a matter of time before the boy learns it all. Especially with Teddy in this-”
“That is quite enough.” Theodore Lestrange set his drink down firmly so that the ring of glass on wood made his controlled words sound nearly whispered. “Mother, Angelique, we’ll discuss this later. Rabastan, you have a final present. Why don’t you see to it?”
Rabbit nodded. Of course Father would settle anything, he thought. And he was glad for it, though also a little disappointed that he wouldn’t find out more about what was so bad about some silly box or what, exactly, Father was in, or any of it.
But it didn’t matter, because his last present beckoned, with curled ribbon shining silver all over and perfectly wrapped red and green paper, and everyone’s eyes on him. Rodolphus was the heir, sure, but if he’d got a whole set of robes and boots and animals, Rabastan could hardly imagine what lay in store for him! He grinned and inched toward the long, skinny, parcel, having quite forgotten about the rest of the evening.
Chapter Number/Title: December 1967: Christmas (10/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 1003
Workshop?: Suggestions always welcome.
December 25, 1967
Christmas
Rabbit snuggled under a blanket by the fire, torn between a cozy sleepiness and an excitement about the holiday. Bits of shimmering paper lay around him, discarded from the toys and sweets that they had covered.
They had opened their stockings first, and now most of the presents from the tree had been opened, too. Rabastan and Rodolphus had apparently had a good year, judging from the amount of presents Father Christmas had sent them this winter.
“All right, little Rabbit,” Grandmother was saying. “Open our present.”
Rabastan looked around and everyone nodded in agreement. Christmas was special for a lot of reasons, but one of them was that being the youngest meant that he got to go first, instead of last. One of the elves floated a large red box forward and set it at the boy’s feet.
He looked for the spell-o-taped corners and undid the first carefully.
“Oh, just rip on in,” encouraged Rodolphus.
Rabbit grinned at his older brother and was happy to oblige. He tore across the huge field of wrapping paper to reveal a translucent box containing what had to be the shiniest, most enchanting train set he had ever seen.
“It’s a perfect model of the Hogwarts Express,” explained Grandmother. “Far better quality than the shoddy sets they sell retail in Diagon.”
Rabastan, honestly, could not have cared less who made the miniature train. “Thank you! So much! Can I set it up now?”
Father looked down with a clear answer in his face. “After dinner. Rodolphus? Why don’t you start with ours?”
Rabbit watched as his older brother pulled a small box off from two larger ones. He took no care saving the golden paper, and soon had drawn out two little figurines.
“What is it?” said Rabastan, too eager to remember not to speak out of turn.
Rodolphus put one on each hand and showed them to Rabbit. They were enchanting little creatures: in the left hand, a model chestnut pony stomped and shook its head; in the right, a cheerful retriever puppy chased its tail. The older boy looked mildly pleased, but not altogether satisfied. He set the toy animals on the low table and began to open the next box.
“Oh!” came his cry of satisfaction, and he pulled out a smooth pair of leather riding boots. “For--” he looked between the model pony and his new boots, and satisfaction crept over his face. He ripped into the final box and drew out a brand new set of hunting robes.
“Spiffing!” Rabastan beamed in admiration as Rodolphus tried on the outer robe and modeled it. He watched as his brother went to hug Maman and thank Father. Finally, Dolph came back and nudged a present over to Rabbit.
Rabbit smiled cheerfully and unwrapped the present-delicately, this time, because the wrapping paper of falling snowflakes was too keen to destroy. It turned out to be a picture-book about wizards around the world. He opened up the pages, which held loads of information and intricate illustrations with wizards in funny robes sending spells at each other. “Thanks, Dolphin!”
Rodolphus nodded and leaned over toward the book. “You like it?”
“Yes! Of course--” he started, before getting distracted by a new page, this one about Bolivian wizards.
“Rabastan, open our present,” ordered Grandfather in between puffs on a pipe.
Rabastan furrowed his brow. “I already did, Grandfather. You mean Rodolphus?”
“Yes, that's what I said.”
The little boy bit back a laugh and looked to his brother. Another red package appeared on the table, and Rodolphus took it in his hands. Hardly a moment passed and the wrapping was off to reveal a dark wooden box covered in shimmering runes.
“What does it do?” Rodolphus’ voice was almost a whisper, of pure excitement.
“You don’t know?” Grandfather bit his pipe and leaned forward, laughing at some joke that must have been only in his head. “Well, that first rune, that means power, and next to it, that’s the mind, and-”
“Monsieur Lestrange!” Maman had been quiet for so long that the chiding tone of her voice startled Rabbit. “I thought we talked about this, did we not?”
Rabastan’s eyes were wide in shock. He could normally tell when Maman disagreed with something, but she never scolded other adults in public. The other three grown-ups made it clear that they were as taken aback as the child.
Grandmother pursed her lips and looked coolly with pale blue eyes at her daughter-in-law. “Angelique, I hardly think this is the time or place for this conversation.”
Maman’s face firmed into a statue of defiance. “Well, Perpetua, apparently you will not accept the agreement of a conversation from another time or place. He is my son, no?”
The tension in the room was clear to all, even little Rabbit, who swallowed and tried to pretend as if his train set was far more interesting than this conversation.
“Come now, Angela, it’s only a matter of time before the boy learns it all. Especially with Teddy in this-”
“That is quite enough.” Theodore Lestrange set his drink down firmly so that the ring of glass on wood made his controlled words sound nearly whispered. “Mother, Angelique, we’ll discuss this later. Rabastan, you have a final present. Why don’t you see to it?”
Rabbit nodded. Of course Father would settle anything, he thought. And he was glad for it, though also a little disappointed that he wouldn’t find out more about what was so bad about some silly box or what, exactly, Father was in, or any of it.
But it didn’t matter, because his last present beckoned, with curled ribbon shining silver all over and perfectly wrapped red and green paper, and everyone’s eyes on him. Rodolphus was the heir, sure, but if he’d got a whole set of robes and boots and animals, Rabastan could hardly imagine what lay in store for him! He grinned and inched toward the long, skinny, parcel, having quite forgotten about the rest of the evening.