Rabbit: June 1968
Title: Rabbit
Chapter Number/Title: June 1968: Black (16/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 1450
Workshop?: Suggestions always welcome.
June 2, 1968
Black
“Come on,” Rabbit whispered to the two boys. “If we don’t, she’ll come up with some worse. Or go crying to her mum and then you know we’re in for it.”
At the word “crying”, Sirius’ face contorted into something as horrible as the elf heads on the wall. “Can’t we just lock her upstairs?”
“That’d be wrong, Sirius.”
Sirius glowered. “Reggie agrees with me, right?” He stared down his little brother, who gave his teddy bear a good hard look.
“Um.” The younger boy looked up to his brother’s cold stare, and then across to Rabastan’s pleading eyes. “We either play, or we get in trouble and then we play?”
“Or we lock her upstairs,” Sirius reminded.
“And then get in more trouble and then still have to play,” added Rabastan.
Regulus looked back and forth again, and frowned. “I don’t like getting in trouble.”
Rabbit grinned smugly and, half-kneeling, threw an arm around little Regulus. “You have a good brother, Sirius.”
“Ugh,” groaned the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. “I hate you both. This is going to be horrible.”
“Only a little horrible,” Rabastan consoled. “We’ll be in it together, though. I’ll tell her, if you want.”
“Be my guest.”
Rabastan left the Black brothers in the corner and crossed the room, to where Cissy stood, arms crossed, staring at them.
“Well?” she asked.
“We’ll do it.”
“Really?” Her arms dropped and her face looked like it lit up.
“Yeah. I convinced them to,” he boasted. It was true, if not the complete truth.
Narcissa grinned and threw her arms around Rabastan in gratitude. The boy slinked out of her hug and stepped back, but before he knew it she was gone-over to her cousins, already organizing the game.
“Obviously, I’ll be the mother,” she was announcing. As soon as he heard her voice go bossy, Rabastan was regretting his decision. He walked back over to the boys and plopped onto a cushion next to Regulus.
“I don’t want to be the baby,” Regulus said. “I was the baby last time.”
Narcissa scrunched up her face, as if she were thinking very hard about what Regulus had just said.
“Fine. You can be my son.”
“I said-”
“Not a baby. You can be in school. Maricelia Cecilinia will be the baby.”
Sirius and Rabastan glanced at each other and immediately began laughing. Rabbit covered his mouth, but Sirius was already saying, “Who now, Cis?”
The girl’s face flushed pink. “Maricelia Cecilinia. My new doll.”
“Nice name,” remarked Sirius.
“Well you should like it,” Cissy snapped back. “She’s your daughter.”
Sirius stared agape as if he had been slapped in the face. Rabastan tilted his head. Regulus clutched his bear, clearly expecting the oncoming battle.
It was Rabastan who spoke first. “Wait. He. You and Sirius can’t be the parents, Cissy.”
“Yeah!” Sirius drew a sharp breath and found his voice again. “I can’t be your husband!”
Narcissa looked at them each, daring them to test her. “Why not?”
Rabbit opened his mouth but heard Sirius’ voice instead of his own. “Because you’re mad! You’re a mad witch!” He spun around in a circle, waving his arms.
The mad witch narrowed her eyes and folded her arms again. “Well. You already sound like your father, don’t you?”
Sirius spun toward her and probably would have pulled her perfect little plaits had Rabbit not grabbed his hand first. When he looked back, Regulus was up on his feet too. Rabastan stepped between the two branches of the Black family and shook his head. “Narcissa, that wasn’t nice.” He turned toward Sirius. “Nor was calling her mad. Listen.” He dropped his arms and sighed. “The problem here is that you’re both first cousins.”
“What are you saying?” Sirius looked much taller now. He was always taller than Rabbit but the shorter boy swore he saw his friend grow right there.
“You can’t marry another Black,” he declared, as if it were obvious.
The word had hardly left his mouth when he realized what, exactly, he had said, and that, perhaps, it was not the wisest thing to have said to the son of two Blacks. He felt himself thrown to the floor. Presently Rabastan and Sirius were scuffling and shouting things at each other that no one could quite understand, and it was Regulus who had to intervene this time. “Stop it!” he whined, weakly pushing against the two boys. “You’ll get us all in trouble!”
It was enough of a pause for Rabastan to be able to get out from under Sirius and sit up.
“Anyway,” continued Cissy, moving along as if nothing had happened at all, “having the same surname just makes it easier for everyone. I’ll still be Cissy Black. And this is my husband, Sirius.” She pulled him up off the floor, and he backed away, dusting off his tunic. “And my son, our lovely heir, Regulus, back home from his fifth year at Hogwarts. He’s a Prefect, and a top student.” She placed a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder and beamed, as if he really were her one and only son. “And of course, our lovely daughter, Maricelia Cecilinia. She’s napping right now.”
Rabastan stared blankly. “And that makes me?”
Cissy bit her lip, stumped for a moment, and then something dawned on her and she opened her arms, looking like she was about to present something truly amazing. “My brother!”
“Oh!” It seemed like a sort of secondary role, he thought, but also one that he could do anything with. After all, she didn’t have a real brother. Maybe he could be an explorer or a Quidditch player or the Minister of Magic.
“See, so it’s splendid! I was a Lestrange, you see, until I married dear Sirius. Neé Lestrange, you know. And you haven’t married yet, because you’re a year younger than me, and we’re all still looking for the perfect witch for you. We can’t have just anyone marry into our family, of course.”
“Of course not,” Rabastan echoed, a bit confused by all the shifts of who was who. “So, how’s my nephew then? Still the star of Hogwarts?”
“He sure is!” boasted Sirius, who didn’t look quite as livid as before, and even seemed to be stepping in his role. “Blacks are always the best. Tell him, Regulus.”
“Sure, I’m a Quidditch player too,” started the pretend heir, but Sirius was already interrupting him.
“Best Quidditch player Hogwarts has seen.”
“Very impressive,” said Uncle Rabastan, nodding. “Where’s this daughter of yours, Mrs. Black?”
“Oh!” Narcissa’s hands leapt to her mouth. “Elf!”
The old elf appeared, carrying a plate full of drinks. “Kreacher must go to his Mistress. How can he help Miss Black?”
Miss-or Missus, Rabastan wasn’t sure anymore-Black pouted. “I want my doll.”
“Kreacher will bring her.” The elf popped away again to attend to the adults, but Cissy’s doll appeared at the children’s feet.
“Oh, Maricelia!” She knelt down and scooped up the doll, which magically started crying until it was back on its side, cradled in the girl’s arms. “Dear girl!”
Sirius peered over her shoulder and inspected the doll. He poked it in its arm, which flopped over. “I’m worried about our daughter, Cissy. She doesn’t move.”
“She has to move, Sirius,” started Regulus. “I mean, Father. She’s my sister, isn’t she?”
Sirius folded his arms. “She doesn’t even talk.”
“She’s too young to talk,” defended Narcissa.
“I bet she’s a Squib.” Sirius turned his back to Cissy and his Squib daughter. “We should rid ourselves of her before she stains our noble and most ancient name.”
Cissy gasped. “How dare you! No daughter of mine is a Squib.” She whispered the word, as if saying the word too loudly would make it true. “Take it back.”
“I can’t take back the awful truth,” declared Sirius, who had made up his mind by now.
“Rabastan! Tell him!”
Rabbit exchanged a glance with Sirius and stepped over, leaned over the doll, and squinted. “I’m so sorry, Cissy. I don’t think she’ll ever grow up to be a witch.”
“No!” protested Cissy and Regulus at once.
“Remove her from my sight,” ordered the harsh Mr. Black. “If this has happened to us, it is because we have been cursed!”
“Or because you married your cousin,” Rabastan muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Sirius, in an almost threatening voice. “Now, come, brother! We must avenge this wicked deed!!”
He sprinted away, up the stairs, with Rabastan close on his tail, until they reached the first landing and stopped to laugh and catch their breath.
“Brilliant save, Mr. Black.”
Chapter Number/Title: June 1968: Black (16/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 1450
Workshop?: Suggestions always welcome.
June 2, 1968
Black
“Come on,” Rabbit whispered to the two boys. “If we don’t, she’ll come up with some worse. Or go crying to her mum and then you know we’re in for it.”
At the word “crying”, Sirius’ face contorted into something as horrible as the elf heads on the wall. “Can’t we just lock her upstairs?”
“That’d be wrong, Sirius.”
Sirius glowered. “Reggie agrees with me, right?” He stared down his little brother, who gave his teddy bear a good hard look.
“Um.” The younger boy looked up to his brother’s cold stare, and then across to Rabastan’s pleading eyes. “We either play, or we get in trouble and then we play?”
“Or we lock her upstairs,” Sirius reminded.
“And then get in more trouble and then still have to play,” added Rabastan.
Regulus looked back and forth again, and frowned. “I don’t like getting in trouble.”
Rabbit grinned smugly and, half-kneeling, threw an arm around little Regulus. “You have a good brother, Sirius.”
“Ugh,” groaned the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. “I hate you both. This is going to be horrible.”
“Only a little horrible,” Rabastan consoled. “We’ll be in it together, though. I’ll tell her, if you want.”
“Be my guest.”
Rabastan left the Black brothers in the corner and crossed the room, to where Cissy stood, arms crossed, staring at them.
“Well?” she asked.
“We’ll do it.”
“Really?” Her arms dropped and her face looked like it lit up.
“Yeah. I convinced them to,” he boasted. It was true, if not the complete truth.
Narcissa grinned and threw her arms around Rabastan in gratitude. The boy slinked out of her hug and stepped back, but before he knew it she was gone-over to her cousins, already organizing the game.
“Obviously, I’ll be the mother,” she was announcing. As soon as he heard her voice go bossy, Rabastan was regretting his decision. He walked back over to the boys and plopped onto a cushion next to Regulus.
“I don’t want to be the baby,” Regulus said. “I was the baby last time.”
Narcissa scrunched up her face, as if she were thinking very hard about what Regulus had just said.
“Fine. You can be my son.”
“I said-”
“Not a baby. You can be in school. Maricelia Cecilinia will be the baby.”
Sirius and Rabastan glanced at each other and immediately began laughing. Rabbit covered his mouth, but Sirius was already saying, “Who now, Cis?”
The girl’s face flushed pink. “Maricelia Cecilinia. My new doll.”
“Nice name,” remarked Sirius.
“Well you should like it,” Cissy snapped back. “She’s your daughter.”
Sirius stared agape as if he had been slapped in the face. Rabastan tilted his head. Regulus clutched his bear, clearly expecting the oncoming battle.
It was Rabastan who spoke first. “Wait. He. You and Sirius can’t be the parents, Cissy.”
“Yeah!” Sirius drew a sharp breath and found his voice again. “I can’t be your husband!”
Narcissa looked at them each, daring them to test her. “Why not?”
Rabbit opened his mouth but heard Sirius’ voice instead of his own. “Because you’re mad! You’re a mad witch!” He spun around in a circle, waving his arms.
The mad witch narrowed her eyes and folded her arms again. “Well. You already sound like your father, don’t you?”
Sirius spun toward her and probably would have pulled her perfect little plaits had Rabbit not grabbed his hand first. When he looked back, Regulus was up on his feet too. Rabastan stepped between the two branches of the Black family and shook his head. “Narcissa, that wasn’t nice.” He turned toward Sirius. “Nor was calling her mad. Listen.” He dropped his arms and sighed. “The problem here is that you’re both first cousins.”
“What are you saying?” Sirius looked much taller now. He was always taller than Rabbit but the shorter boy swore he saw his friend grow right there.
“You can’t marry another Black,” he declared, as if it were obvious.
The word had hardly left his mouth when he realized what, exactly, he had said, and that, perhaps, it was not the wisest thing to have said to the son of two Blacks. He felt himself thrown to the floor. Presently Rabastan and Sirius were scuffling and shouting things at each other that no one could quite understand, and it was Regulus who had to intervene this time. “Stop it!” he whined, weakly pushing against the two boys. “You’ll get us all in trouble!”
It was enough of a pause for Rabastan to be able to get out from under Sirius and sit up.
“Anyway,” continued Cissy, moving along as if nothing had happened at all, “having the same surname just makes it easier for everyone. I’ll still be Cissy Black. And this is my husband, Sirius.” She pulled him up off the floor, and he backed away, dusting off his tunic. “And my son, our lovely heir, Regulus, back home from his fifth year at Hogwarts. He’s a Prefect, and a top student.” She placed a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder and beamed, as if he really were her one and only son. “And of course, our lovely daughter, Maricelia Cecilinia. She’s napping right now.”
Rabastan stared blankly. “And that makes me?”
Cissy bit her lip, stumped for a moment, and then something dawned on her and she opened her arms, looking like she was about to present something truly amazing. “My brother!”
“Oh!” It seemed like a sort of secondary role, he thought, but also one that he could do anything with. After all, she didn’t have a real brother. Maybe he could be an explorer or a Quidditch player or the Minister of Magic.
“See, so it’s splendid! I was a Lestrange, you see, until I married dear Sirius. Neé Lestrange, you know. And you haven’t married yet, because you’re a year younger than me, and we’re all still looking for the perfect witch for you. We can’t have just anyone marry into our family, of course.”
“Of course not,” Rabastan echoed, a bit confused by all the shifts of who was who. “So, how’s my nephew then? Still the star of Hogwarts?”
“He sure is!” boasted Sirius, who didn’t look quite as livid as before, and even seemed to be stepping in his role. “Blacks are always the best. Tell him, Regulus.”
“Sure, I’m a Quidditch player too,” started the pretend heir, but Sirius was already interrupting him.
“Best Quidditch player Hogwarts has seen.”
“Very impressive,” said Uncle Rabastan, nodding. “Where’s this daughter of yours, Mrs. Black?”
“Oh!” Narcissa’s hands leapt to her mouth. “Elf!”
The old elf appeared, carrying a plate full of drinks. “Kreacher must go to his Mistress. How can he help Miss Black?”
Miss-or Missus, Rabastan wasn’t sure anymore-Black pouted. “I want my doll.”
“Kreacher will bring her.” The elf popped away again to attend to the adults, but Cissy’s doll appeared at the children’s feet.
“Oh, Maricelia!” She knelt down and scooped up the doll, which magically started crying until it was back on its side, cradled in the girl’s arms. “Dear girl!”
Sirius peered over her shoulder and inspected the doll. He poked it in its arm, which flopped over. “I’m worried about our daughter, Cissy. She doesn’t move.”
“She has to move, Sirius,” started Regulus. “I mean, Father. She’s my sister, isn’t she?”
Sirius folded his arms. “She doesn’t even talk.”
“She’s too young to talk,” defended Narcissa.
“I bet she’s a Squib.” Sirius turned his back to Cissy and his Squib daughter. “We should rid ourselves of her before she stains our noble and most ancient name.”
Cissy gasped. “How dare you! No daughter of mine is a Squib.” She whispered the word, as if saying the word too loudly would make it true. “Take it back.”
“I can’t take back the awful truth,” declared Sirius, who had made up his mind by now.
“Rabastan! Tell him!”
Rabbit exchanged a glance with Sirius and stepped over, leaned over the doll, and squinted. “I’m so sorry, Cissy. I don’t think she’ll ever grow up to be a witch.”
“No!” protested Cissy and Regulus at once.
“Remove her from my sight,” ordered the harsh Mr. Black. “If this has happened to us, it is because we have been cursed!”
“Or because you married your cousin,” Rabastan muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Sirius, in an almost threatening voice. “Now, come, brother! We must avenge this wicked deed!!”
He sprinted away, up the stairs, with Rabastan close on his tail, until they reached the first landing and stopped to laugh and catch their breath.
“Brilliant save, Mr. Black.”