Of Quidditch Players and Cauldron Cakes || July 2.0
Title: Of Quidditch Players and Cauldron Cakes
Summary: It’s the Quidditch World Cup, and Albus Severus Potter is bored. Stupidly bored. And starved. Really, incredibly, uncomfortably starved. Ah, the challenges of being an eight-year-old are really too much sometimes.
Characters/Pairings: Albus Potter, James Potter, Harry Potter, Rose Weasley, Hugo Weasley
Genre: Humor
Beta: none
Rating/Warnings: G
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1,493
Prompt/Challenge: Saturday Special July 2.0: Quidditch World Cup 2014
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: heartsamongstars
Albus Severus Potter was positively famished.
He shifted uncomfortably and tried to ignore his rumbling stomach as his dad chatted with the large, burly Bulgarian Quidditch player. He had already paid his respects to his dad’s old friend and politely introduced himself, and he really had nothing more to add to the conversation. Frankly, he was finding himself to be quite bored. Moreover, it was a hot day, and the stadium was really crowded. Albus wasn’t surprised at that; this was the Quidditch World Cup of 2014, after all. But still, did there really have to be so many people? Even with cooling charms placed strategically all over the arena, and the lightweight, casual trousers and shirt he was wearing, Albus found the air just a tad bit too stifling.
Impatient, he tugged on James’ shirt sleeve. “James, let’s go,” he whispered urgently. “We need to find the witch with the snack trolley. I’m starved, and I really want those cauldron cakes.”
James glared at him and jerked his arm out of his younger brother’s grasp. “Stop whining, Albus! Go find Hugo or Rose if you want to get a snack. I’m trying to listen to Viktor Krum!” With another stern look, he turned away from his sibling and back to the Bulgarian Seeker, engrossing himself once more in the conversation Viktor was having with their dad.
Albus heaved a disappointed sigh. He turned to his father, hoping to pull him away from the conversation, but as his dad was looking quite involved in the conversation himself, he chalked it up as a lost cause. Rolling his eyes, Albus plopped himself down on the floor at his father’s feet. Adults could be so boring sometimes. And for his brother to buy into it! What was so great about Viktor Krum anyway? Blimey, but he was annoyed. James was just fanboying over Krum, is all it was. Albus snickered quietly to himself. His older brother, a fanboy! What a sight, indeed. (He found himself rather fond of the Muggle term. His older cousin, Teddy, had introduced it to him, and Albus found the description to be perfectly appropriate in this situation, no matter how much his older brother would protest.)
“Cauldron cakes! Bernie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! Chocolate frogs!”
Albus’ head swiveled in the direction of the voice, and his eyes widened ever so slightly in anticipation as he noticed the snack trolley, propelled forward by a somewhat pimply-faced teenage boy, heading their way. Food! he thought excitedly.
Popping back onto his feet with the sprightly energy that only eight-year-olds could have, he turned toward his dad. “There’s the snack trolley!” he whispered. “Can you buy me some cauldron cakes, dad, please?”
Harry Potter frowned distractedly at his young son. “In a conversation, Al, can’t you see? Ask me later.”
“But dad,” the child whinged, “I’m practically starving, and the game will start soon! You won’t want to take me once the match starts.”
Harry sighed at his son’s insistence. “Fine, but you need to get James to go with you.” Impatiently, he fished a few sickles from his trouser pocket and thrust it into the boy’s open palm. “Come straight back when you’ve bought your snack; I don’t want you getting into any trouble.”
Nodding eagerly in agreement, Albus turned to his older brother. “Let’s go, James!”
No response.
Frowning, Albus tugged on the sleeve of James’ shirt once more. “James, come on, the trolley’s nearly next to us.”
More silence.
With a frustrated grunt, Albus poked his brother quite firmly in the ribs.
“Ouch! Crikey, Al, leave me alone! I want to talk to Viktor.” James threw his younger sibling a harsh glare, rubbing his left side in consternation, and it was only then that Harry deemed it necessary to scold his sons.
“James Sirius and Albus Severus,” he began, his tone stern, “stop bickering. This is not the time or place.”
“But, dad,” the youngest started, turning his best ‘pity-me-because-I’m-absolutely-famished’ face on his father. “I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast, and that was ages ago. I won’t take long, I promise!”
“We’ll take him, Uncle Harry.” A female voice sounded to their left, and Albus turned in relief to find that his cousins, Rose and Hugo, had walked over to them.
Ecstatic, Albus bounded over to Rose and wrapped his lanky arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks, Rose!” he exclaimed. “You’re the best!”
“What, I don’t get a hug? Or even a thank you? It was my idea to find you, y’know.” Hugo’s teasing grin brought a smile to Albus’ face.
With a laugh and a kiss to each of their foreheads, Harry sent the trio on their way, leaving a satisfied James to continue chatting with his favorite Quidditch player.
“You saved me, Rose, Hugo. James was being a right twit.”
Rose laughed, her auburn curls bouncing, and Hugo just gave a sheepish shrug.
“You looked pretty bored over there,” the redheaded boy explained. “We get it. This whole thing isn’t nearly as exciting as dad made it out to be.”
“Yeah, and mum’s bored out of her mind, too,” Rose giggled. “She’s yawned probably twenty times by now.”
Albus groaned in agreement and tossed the coins his dad had given him in the air, catching them deftly in one hand as they fell back down. “I don’t even know why we had to come,” he complained. “So far it’s just a bunch of grown-ups chatting. And we’re supposed to be here all day? I’m going to die from the boredom!” Dramatically, he faked a faint, and a chuckling Hugo caught him by the shirt collar and hauled him back on both his feet.
“Oh, it won’t be boring for too much longer,” Hugo assured him. “The pre-match show is supposed to start pretty soon, and the game is going to be amazing, dad’s promised us.”
“Plus, if you’re bored, I’ve got a couple of extra books you can borrow.” Rose eagerly reached into her small, red-and-gold-striped purse, and pulled out a pair of rather heavy-looking books. A quick glance at the cover revealed the words “Potion Ingredients and Their Many Uses by Alexander Blake” and “A Witch or Wizard’s Guide to the Most Important Events to Ever Occur in Wizarding History: A Detailed Summarization by Constance Olivia Wyrd” in shiny letters. “Mom charmed my purse to fit them, of course; it wouldn’t do for me to lug around such huge tomes in this dress. But I wanted to bring them just in case the match isn’t as exciting as dad’s promised.”
Albus gave her a look. “Really, Rose? Those look like text books. Why on earth would I want to read those?”
“Because they’re incredibly informative,” she defended, giving him the haughtily superior expression he had seen his Aunt Hermione give his Uncle Ron-and even his own dad-millions of times. “And these are all things we’re going to have to know when we go to Hogwarts anyway. We might as well get a head start.” Hugo laughed heartily at his sister’s nearly obnoxious nerdiness, and she gave him a withering glare (which, unsurprisingly, she had also learned from her mother). “Don’t give me that look, Hugo. You know I’m right. And you don’t have to read them anyway, neither of you. Just don’t come crying to me when we’re at Hogwarts, and you lot are incredibly unprepared while I’m-”
Bang!
The loud sound cut off Rose tirade, and the three children gave a simultaneous gasp as they discovered the source of the noise.
Multi-colored, shimmering fireworks were exploding in the sky above the pitch. Bright greens, reds, purples, and golds glittered across the clouds, the sunlight making the fireworks seem even more iridescent. Albus was suitably impressed. Fireworks in the daytime? He’d never seen anything like it.
“Those are dad’s and Uncle George’s A.M. Fired Up Crackers!” Hugo exclaimed excitedly, thrilled to be able to see a new Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes product. “Dad told me they were working on them last week. I didn’t know they were planning on premiering them at the World Cup. This is wicked!” Enthused, he rushed toward the large window, pushing through the crowd that was gathering to see the display.
Albus and Rose followed him enthusiastically. Albus was particularly excited; the entire display was brilliant, literally.
The fireworks went on for ages, met by a highly entertained public that ooh’d and aah’d at all the right moments. Albus was especially fond of the firecracker that exploded in a shower of orange before taking on the shape of a centaur galloping across the sky. He grinned in pleasure. His uncles were so cool.
The young boy was so entertained by the firework display-which had kicked off an equally entertaining pre-match showcase-that he forgot all about his precious cauldron cakes. His stomach grumbled unhappily and went completely unnoticed.
Michi || Gryff || 55 points
Summary: It’s the Quidditch World Cup, and Albus Severus Potter is bored. Stupidly bored. And starved. Really, incredibly, uncomfortably starved. Ah, the challenges of being an eight-year-old are really too much sometimes.
Characters/Pairings: Albus Potter, James Potter, Harry Potter, Rose Weasley, Hugo Weasley
Genre: Humor
Beta: none
Rating/Warnings: G
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1,493
Prompt/Challenge: Saturday Special July 2.0: Quidditch World Cup 2014
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: heartsamongstars
Albus Severus Potter was positively famished.
He shifted uncomfortably and tried to ignore his rumbling stomach as his dad chatted with the large, burly Bulgarian Quidditch player. He had already paid his respects to his dad’s old friend and politely introduced himself, and he really had nothing more to add to the conversation. Frankly, he was finding himself to be quite bored. Moreover, it was a hot day, and the stadium was really crowded. Albus wasn’t surprised at that; this was the Quidditch World Cup of 2014, after all. But still, did there really have to be so many people? Even with cooling charms placed strategically all over the arena, and the lightweight, casual trousers and shirt he was wearing, Albus found the air just a tad bit too stifling.
Impatient, he tugged on James’ shirt sleeve. “James, let’s go,” he whispered urgently. “We need to find the witch with the snack trolley. I’m starved, and I really want those cauldron cakes.”
James glared at him and jerked his arm out of his younger brother’s grasp. “Stop whining, Albus! Go find Hugo or Rose if you want to get a snack. I’m trying to listen to Viktor Krum!” With another stern look, he turned away from his sibling and back to the Bulgarian Seeker, engrossing himself once more in the conversation Viktor was having with their dad.
Albus heaved a disappointed sigh. He turned to his father, hoping to pull him away from the conversation, but as his dad was looking quite involved in the conversation himself, he chalked it up as a lost cause. Rolling his eyes, Albus plopped himself down on the floor at his father’s feet. Adults could be so boring sometimes. And for his brother to buy into it! What was so great about Viktor Krum anyway? Blimey, but he was annoyed. James was just fanboying over Krum, is all it was. Albus snickered quietly to himself. His older brother, a fanboy! What a sight, indeed. (He found himself rather fond of the Muggle term. His older cousin, Teddy, had introduced it to him, and Albus found the description to be perfectly appropriate in this situation, no matter how much his older brother would protest.)
“Cauldron cakes! Bernie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! Chocolate frogs!”
Albus’ head swiveled in the direction of the voice, and his eyes widened ever so slightly in anticipation as he noticed the snack trolley, propelled forward by a somewhat pimply-faced teenage boy, heading their way. Food! he thought excitedly.
Popping back onto his feet with the sprightly energy that only eight-year-olds could have, he turned toward his dad. “There’s the snack trolley!” he whispered. “Can you buy me some cauldron cakes, dad, please?”
Harry Potter frowned distractedly at his young son. “In a conversation, Al, can’t you see? Ask me later.”
“But dad,” the child whinged, “I’m practically starving, and the game will start soon! You won’t want to take me once the match starts.”
Harry sighed at his son’s insistence. “Fine, but you need to get James to go with you.” Impatiently, he fished a few sickles from his trouser pocket and thrust it into the boy’s open palm. “Come straight back when you’ve bought your snack; I don’t want you getting into any trouble.”
Nodding eagerly in agreement, Albus turned to his older brother. “Let’s go, James!”
No response.
Frowning, Albus tugged on the sleeve of James’ shirt once more. “James, come on, the trolley’s nearly next to us.”
More silence.
With a frustrated grunt, Albus poked his brother quite firmly in the ribs.
“Ouch! Crikey, Al, leave me alone! I want to talk to Viktor.” James threw his younger sibling a harsh glare, rubbing his left side in consternation, and it was only then that Harry deemed it necessary to scold his sons.
“James Sirius and Albus Severus,” he began, his tone stern, “stop bickering. This is not the time or place.”
“But, dad,” the youngest started, turning his best ‘pity-me-because-I’m-absolutely-famished’ face on his father. “I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast, and that was ages ago. I won’t take long, I promise!”
“We’ll take him, Uncle Harry.” A female voice sounded to their left, and Albus turned in relief to find that his cousins, Rose and Hugo, had walked over to them.
Ecstatic, Albus bounded over to Rose and wrapped his lanky arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks, Rose!” he exclaimed. “You’re the best!”
“What, I don’t get a hug? Or even a thank you? It was my idea to find you, y’know.” Hugo’s teasing grin brought a smile to Albus’ face.
With a laugh and a kiss to each of their foreheads, Harry sent the trio on their way, leaving a satisfied James to continue chatting with his favorite Quidditch player.
“You saved me, Rose, Hugo. James was being a right twit.”
Rose laughed, her auburn curls bouncing, and Hugo just gave a sheepish shrug.
“You looked pretty bored over there,” the redheaded boy explained. “We get it. This whole thing isn’t nearly as exciting as dad made it out to be.”
“Yeah, and mum’s bored out of her mind, too,” Rose giggled. “She’s yawned probably twenty times by now.”
Albus groaned in agreement and tossed the coins his dad had given him in the air, catching them deftly in one hand as they fell back down. “I don’t even know why we had to come,” he complained. “So far it’s just a bunch of grown-ups chatting. And we’re supposed to be here all day? I’m going to die from the boredom!” Dramatically, he faked a faint, and a chuckling Hugo caught him by the shirt collar and hauled him back on both his feet.
“Oh, it won’t be boring for too much longer,” Hugo assured him. “The pre-match show is supposed to start pretty soon, and the game is going to be amazing, dad’s promised us.”
“Plus, if you’re bored, I’ve got a couple of extra books you can borrow.” Rose eagerly reached into her small, red-and-gold-striped purse, and pulled out a pair of rather heavy-looking books. A quick glance at the cover revealed the words “Potion Ingredients and Their Many Uses by Alexander Blake” and “A Witch or Wizard’s Guide to the Most Important Events to Ever Occur in Wizarding History: A Detailed Summarization by Constance Olivia Wyrd” in shiny letters. “Mom charmed my purse to fit them, of course; it wouldn’t do for me to lug around such huge tomes in this dress. But I wanted to bring them just in case the match isn’t as exciting as dad’s promised.”
Albus gave her a look. “Really, Rose? Those look like text books. Why on earth would I want to read those?”
“Because they’re incredibly informative,” she defended, giving him the haughtily superior expression he had seen his Aunt Hermione give his Uncle Ron-and even his own dad-millions of times. “And these are all things we’re going to have to know when we go to Hogwarts anyway. We might as well get a head start.” Hugo laughed heartily at his sister’s nearly obnoxious nerdiness, and she gave him a withering glare (which, unsurprisingly, she had also learned from her mother). “Don’t give me that look, Hugo. You know I’m right. And you don’t have to read them anyway, neither of you. Just don’t come crying to me when we’re at Hogwarts, and you lot are incredibly unprepared while I’m-”
Bang!
The loud sound cut off Rose tirade, and the three children gave a simultaneous gasp as they discovered the source of the noise.
Multi-colored, shimmering fireworks were exploding in the sky above the pitch. Bright greens, reds, purples, and golds glittered across the clouds, the sunlight making the fireworks seem even more iridescent. Albus was suitably impressed. Fireworks in the daytime? He’d never seen anything like it.
“Those are dad’s and Uncle George’s A.M. Fired Up Crackers!” Hugo exclaimed excitedly, thrilled to be able to see a new Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes product. “Dad told me they were working on them last week. I didn’t know they were planning on premiering them at the World Cup. This is wicked!” Enthused, he rushed toward the large window, pushing through the crowd that was gathering to see the display.
Albus and Rose followed him enthusiastically. Albus was particularly excited; the entire display was brilliant, literally.
The fireworks went on for ages, met by a highly entertained public that ooh’d and aah’d at all the right moments. Albus was especially fond of the firecracker that exploded in a shower of orange before taking on the shape of a centaur galloping across the sky. He grinned in pleasure. His uncles were so cool.
The young boy was so entertained by the firework display-which had kicked off an equally entertaining pre-match showcase-that he forgot all about his precious cauldron cakes. His stomach grumbled unhappily and went completely unnoticed.
Michi || Gryff || 55 points