“There should be a law against this,” Arnold said, looking around the nearly empty Cascade Hall as he dropped into his seat.
Arthur finished arranging his napkin and cutlery to his satisfaction and then started to move oatmeal from its serving dish to the bowl before him, his eyes fixed a hair too intently on the process as though willing none of it to spill. Arnold was impressed; if he’d been up any earlier, which Arthur had, then he wouldn’t have been able to pull that off. Lack of sleep did bad things to him. “I like mornings,” he said. “Especially at home. The light, you know, and I can work better when – ” He stopped, frowning slightly at a spoon, and didn’t pick up his sentence again.
“Whatever,” Arnold muttered. No matter how staunchly Arthur defended the early morning hours, Arnold just didn’t think he was ever going to be able to envy someone for being an insomniac. The unexpected energy that had come with waking up early himself for some reason this morning was already a distant memory, and he was prepared to put as much of his attention into looking for something with lots of sugar in it, or at least something he could put lots of sugar in.
He considered something hot, but instead went for something cold, thinking it might wake him up faster. After most of a tall glass of orange juice, he was able to look around and take the measure of the other people who thought it was a good idea to be up first thing in the morning on the first day of school, noticing with some glee that he was no longer among the very shortest in the school. It hadn’t been very comfortable at the time, and had involved being dragged to the seamstress’ twice when that was always a bad experience, but there were benefits to having grown a few inches over the summer. Compared to Terry, his first year cousin he’d get to behave a bit like an annoying older sibling to all year, he thought he was almost tall.
By the time the Hall began to fill up with more normal souls and he’d had more juice and some food, he was starting to feel almost awake as well, and more enthusiastic about being a third year. He was older than people now. He had been older than the first years last year, but that hadn’t really counted for some reason. Now, though, it did. He wasn’t a new person at Sonora anymore, he was just at Sonora, and he liked it much better that way. Possibly at least in part so he could feel superior to Terry about it. She was as bad as Arthur about thinking she was one of the adults, and worse about wanting to be bossy, so he was going to enjoy being the third year for all it was worth while he could.
Plus, now he was going to be one of the senior Quidditch players. Last year, it had just been weird that the Pecari Seeker was a year below him and he wasn't that first year Aladren had put in because no one else was available and he'd turned out to be good at it, but now, it was completely legitimate for that to happen. That was awesome.
Enough people came in that a steady buzz of conversation was going on, along with regular noises of cutlery on plates and that kind of meal noise that didn’t happen very much at home except for at the Reunion, but was completely normal here. Arnold grinned, his foot starting to bounce a little under the table.
"This year is going to be great," he said, and completely ignored the slight noise of disbelief Arthur made in reply except to add, "Best ever," even more cheerfully.
0Arnold and Arthur CareyThe First Breakfast of Third Year181Arnold and Arthur Carey15
It was the first day of school. And from her very first day at Kindergarten, to now her second year at Sonora a school for magic it was still the same. Sleep shattered just before dawn and Kitty lay in bed, her toes curling and a smile on her lips. First day, first day, first day. It was a new year, fresh and wrapped waiting to be opened. A new start, and a new beginning opened up behind her still closed eyes as she imagined all that might happen.
Finally she could remain still no longer and Kitty leapt out of bed like a startled fish out of water. Muffled giggles were held back by both petite hands in an effort to not wake up her numerous roommates. Having Nora upset with her from the very start was something the tiny bouncing girl wanted to avoid, no matter how tempting it was to bounce from bed to bed waking them all up. It’s the first day! How can they possibly still be sleeping? The excitable Aladren thought almost breaking her vow not to be as much of a nuisance to her roommates this term.
In the end she was forced to flee the dorms to keep from doing something to wake the other girls up. Hunger led her to the Hall, and bright sapphire eyes landed on the twins sitting in the nearly deserted room. Kitty hated sitting alone so with a happy smile she skipped over to the twin’s table and plopped down across from them. “Good morning!” She chirped as she put a waffle onto her plate before heaping it with an absurd amount of strawberries, bananas, and whip cream.
Arthur hated the first day of school, hated it with a passion which had scarcely abated after two years of suffering through it. He couldn’t remember the time in his life when he had slept well at night, but it was never so bad as it was the first night he tried to sleep in a bed that wasn’t his, surrounded by a bunch of people who were not him, and he could already feel the beginnings of a headache, somewhere beyond the feeling his head was stuffed with wool and partially within the desire to gauge his eyes out. He would spend all day slipping back toward a daze between one dose of potion wearing off and it being time to take another, there was a good chance he would need to visit the hospital wing, and the best he could hope for was that he wouldn’t need, at some point between now and bed, to slip away from everyone he knew in order to find a deserted bathroom and be sick.
No one could know about that kind of thing, though. That Arthur Carey got sick because he had trouble leaving home, as though he were some whining brat of a six-year-old who couldn’t stand to be away from its mother. He was going to have to get over it at some point, he knew that, but until he figured out how, he was just going to have to hide it, because the thought of anyone, anyone at all, ever knowing about it was absolutely mortifying.
Besides, Mother might actually try to keep him home if she knew – it wasn’t likely, but she might – and he couldn’t have that. Things were too interesting here. He still had to see who was going to be prefect, and what was going on with Miss Errant and Miss Bennett, figure out who Jhonice Trevear was and why she was really interested in reminding people that the Pierces had that lot of…Arthur didn’t even know what living out in California…And there was his education to consider. He could teach himself everything, he was sure, he was supposed to learn in his intermediate years in six months if he really applied himself, but he doubted people outside of himself and those who knew him would consider that a valid way of coming to know the basics every idiot was supposed to know before he was allowed to do something interesting with life.
He was operating a spoon, allowing whatever his brother was trying to say in defense of the year pass through his head without making much of an impression, saving concentration for when he’d need it in his classes, when he was abruptly startled back into a semblance of awareness by the arrival of Katrina. She had too much energy, just like Arnold. Dear Merlin, how did they live with themselves? Unless they were lying. He hadn’t really thought about that before. Maybe he should have.
He watched as she started putting whipped cream and strawberries and bananas on a waffle. He didn’t think he liked strawberries this morning. He didn’t think he liked bananas more generally.
“Good morning,” Arnold replied. He glanced at Arthur for a moment and added, “I don’t know how you two can take that much sweet at this time of morning.”
Arthur looked at what he’d been doing to figure out what his brother was referring to and finished adding more sugar to his tea. Then he dumped some on top of his oatmeal - it had bits of apples in; he liked apples - for emphasis. Was it still warm enough to eat, or was he going to have to reheat it? The side of the bowl was still warm, but it looked a little…congealed.
“Because I drank some of Mother’s coffee when we were five,” he said. Mother, like Arnold, did not care much for sweet things except when she needed a little extra energy and couldn’t think how to get it any other way, and even then it was more of a practical measure than anything. She did not put sugar in her coffee, just a bit of milk. The stuff was nigh-undrinkable, in Arthur’s opinion. “Good day, Katrina. What’s your excuse?”
0Arthur and Arnold CareyI suppose we can make a space.0Arthur and Arnold Carey05
A small laugh bubbled though her lips at the almost teasing question. “I’m like a hummingbird, it takes a lot of energy to keep my small self going.” She said with a grin. That and her mother always said she was unbearable with out a proper fix of sugar in the morning, and that was saying something. After all, dealing with Kitty at her most energetic was difficult at the best of times, but Kitty without her sugar was a deeply frightening sight.
She took a big bite of waffle and hummed her approval at the wonderful fluffy flavor that filled her mouth. “Mmmmm, I missed this.” She sighed happily as she focused on devouring the small mountain of food. So much better than cereal, or oat meal, or pop tarts Kitty thought joyfully as she took a deep drink of orange juice. The only real cooked meal they had at home was dinner, the rest of it was a fend for yourself atmosphere that often left Kitty with easy to make stuff that did not involve the oven.
It was amazing that with the amount of food the tiny girl ate that she wasn’t the size of a house, but the endless energy that made people want to nap just watching her burned off the calories at a swift rate. Her too short legs swung back and forth under the table as she ate, even now unable to sit still. “So did you guys have a good summer?” Kitty asked curiously. What did magic kids do in the summer? Were there Quidditch camps? Vacations to the Grand canyon where they could ride gryphons to the bottom? Or maybe endless magical balls? Her blue eyes were bright the need to know.
Arnold laughed at the remark about Mother’s coffee. The thing about Arthur’s sense of humor wasn’t even so much that it was odd as that there was no telling when he would suddenly drop the pretense of being an adult and remind you that it existed.
“A hummingbird,” Arthur repeated after Kitty said that she was a hummingbird. Mother put sugar-water out for hummingbirds in the garden at home in some seasons. They were pretty things, flitting from feeder to feeder; Terry liked to watch them better than anything. She and Arthur were known to sit very still for long periods of time doing that. Arnold had no idea how they could sustain the interest so long. “Shall you fly to South America when the weather turns, then?”
“Of course she won’t,” Arnold said. “We’ve got the weather charms so she’ll stay and play Quidditch.”
It was still strange to think about the team without Captain Nash, but Arnold knew that wasn’t something he had to worry about too much. He would keep winning no matter who was the captain, or the Chasers, or any of those things. His role wasn’t affected by the rest of the team as long as he stayed Seeker, and he really didn’t see, somehow, anyone trying to take it away from him now. He’d never lost, there was no reason for them to even think of replacing him. Even the thought of Quidditch, though, was pushed aside by what Kitty said about missing breakfast while she was at home.
“Does your mother not let you eat, either?” he said, thinking of what Fae had said at the ball last year about not getting to eat much. He almost thought he needed to have a party like Fae had in first year, only arrange it with Mother to sneak all the girls off during some part of it and feed them properly while their mothers weren’t watching. “Dear Merlin, I’m glad I’m not a girl. I like food.”
“I’m sure the girls are glad you’re not one of them, too,” Arthur remarked dryly. Arnold had a feeling he was missing something in that remark that Arthur meant, but he didn’t let it bother him. If he spent much time worrying about things his brother said that he didn’t understand completely, he didn’t think he’d have a lot of time for anything else.
They glanced at each other when asked about their summer, and it was silently agreed that Arnold should begin. “It was okay,” he said. “Had to go to some parties, Grandmother insisted.” They were thirteen now, and Grandmother thought that made them all but adults, pointing out that some had been betrothed at that age however often Mother pointed out that was rare these days. “Flew a lot. Arthur should replace Edmond next year with a bat, he knocked me out twice.”
“You weren’t paying attention,” Arthur said absent-mindedly before looking back at Kitty. “We had a new tutor, too,” he said, ignoring when Arnold very audibly muttered something about borrowing him from their brother. Arthur had always wanted anything that was Anthony’s, sooner or later; sometimes, in the same kind of uneasy moments, moved past as quickly as he could until the next time something made him think of them, of total clarity in which he noticed things like how prettily Fae smiled, he thought that even though they had to be fond of each other deep down, because they were the closest of family and neither of them was unnatural somehow, his brothers really didn’t like each other very much. “And I read several very interesting books.”
To Arnold’s surprise, Arthur actually smiled at her, briefly. What in the world was going on? Arthur didn’t…he couldn’t. No, that was crazy. He didn’t know what was going on, but it wasn’t that. There was no way Arthur actually liked her. “And how did you spend your summer?” he asked, looking as though he were actually interested to hear the answer.
0Arnold and ArthurAnd then there were three181Arnold and Arthur05
Another giggle escaped the tiny girl at the boys teasing. Kitty had missed this, the school, the curious magic kids, and spells, and flying. Oh how she missed flying! “No way is winter or anything else going to keep me from playing Quidditch!” Kitty exclaimed. “We’re like mailmen we play wind or rain or snow or shine, no matter what.” She laughed again, giddy with the thought of Aladren being the best Quidditch team for another year. No way will we lose, not this year or next, or the one after. As long as I’m playing we’ll totally kick booty. Kitty thought with conviction. It wasn’t so much that she thought the team couldn’t win without her, more that she refused to let them lose while she was a part of it. This year was going to be brilliant, she just knew it.
“Hmm?” Kitty made a small questioning sound as she finished the bite in her mouth before speaking. “Oh, no! Well, during summer mom has to work so she only cooks dinner, and so breakfast and lunch is a fend for yourself sort of deal. I’m pretty terrible when it comes to cooking so mostly I’m stuck with dry cereal, pop-tarts, or oatmeal for breakfast, and sandwiches for lunch.” Kitty said, quickly making the leap between magic girls and not eating. They did seem a lot like the old noble families, and girls would be expected to keep their figures and what not to get a good husband. I’m glad I’m muggleborn! I’d starve to death in a magic family Kitty thought with a shutter. The idea of being forced to only eat little salads and not much else was horrible.
Yet another laugh escaped her at Arthur’s comment. “Ohh! Were they like the ball last year?” Kitty asked excitedly as she bounced a bit in her seat, already imagining all the different themes such balls might take. One of her favorite movies ever was the Labyrinth and even though the goblin masks during the ball had been sort of scary and not pretty at all there had still been something compelling about them. She wondered if she’d ever be invited to such parties and thought it might be quite fun to go.
Her large blue eyes widened when Arnold admitted he’d been knocked out twice over the summer. “Oh my gosh! Are you alright?” Well, seems he was sitting there clearly he wasn’t too damaged, but still Kitty would hate to see either of the twins get really hurt. Being knocked out had the added risk of happening while flying so falling was obviously another danger that Arnold most likely faced.
Arthur’s brief smile made Kitty’s flare brightly in response. It wasn’t often she got a smile from one of the magic kids and she found that it made the normally causal gesture special seems it was something giving so rarely. “Before I left school I got a library account with a magical library in Reno, it is so neat! They gave me a parchment that works just like the computers in a normal library, I just write down the subject or author I’m interested in and a list of books appears on the parchment for me to choose from. Then I get the books delivered via owl post!” Kitty hadn’t wanted to go back home and not have access to the library, knowing full well she would devour her textbooks in only a few weeks. So, she did a bit of research and found out that she could have books delivered and the time she hadn’t spent running like a wild thing in the mountains had been spent reading. Hours had passed with just her and a book, tucked neatly in the branches of the old cherry tree in the back yard.
Arthur felt a strange, uncomfortable mix of discomfort and pride as a puzzled expression went over Arnold’s face at the remark about mailmen. He knew what Kitty was talking about; it was in the books he had read last year, forbidden books he’d had to smuggle out of their proper section and put in covers so they looked like his textbooks in order to read. The ones that this girl had driven him to read, so he could follow, more or less, what she was talking about. In retrospect, it hadn’t been worth it, he hadn’t gotten enough of the finer details to make him comfortable in conversation and he was now considerably more uncomfortable knowing he had read such things at all, but what was done was done now.
“Of course,” he said politely. “There’s no reason to start losing now.”
He tried very hard to keep a straight face while Arnold exclaimed about girls not eating, and was aided when she actually responded and he and his brother exchanged equally bewildered looks at the idea of having to forage for food in one’s own household. He and his brothers could go to the kitchen for a snack if they wanted, and sometimes their mother actually did take it into her mind to cook for them, but if none of those things happened, then there were always meals on the table at predictable intervals, expertly prepared and, Arthur suspected, tested for poison before it got to them. Twice. He had taken enough economics lessons to know some people were different, but couldn’t imagine his life being any other way. Meals were necessary; when he did not eat, he became ill, and he had spent enough of his life ill for him and his family to about equally dislike the idea of doing anything to bring it on.
“What, Grandmother’s parties?” Arnold asked, clearly distracted again by that. “No, not really. Just old people standing around talking about stuff.” He paused. “Mother and Father have a ball every August, but we don’t have to go to that yet, if we don’t want to, and Grandmother has hers at midterm just like the school.”
“We’ll probably have to go to her Christmas one, though, this year,” Arthur remarked. Arnold made a face, and Arthur made a note to point out to him that he could try to get the Sinclairs invited later, when Mistress Kitty wasn’t present. He did not entirely trust her not to repeat anything she heard to anyone who stood still long enough, and he thought she was somewhat friendly with Miss Sinclair.
Arnold looked confused again when asked if he was all right. “Huh? Of course. I’m here, aren’t I?” Arthur decided not to comment.
He barely noticed her stubborn insistence that her world was 'normal.' That word was touchy for him, but he had firmly reminded himself there was nothing to be done about those who were too hardheaded to learn often enough that some things had started just rolling over his head. If she wanted to behave like an ignorant Muggle in some matters, it was no business of his, and at least she had the good sense to say magic was superior to the Muggle world. “That’s very nice,” he said. “I’m sure you know much more now.” If how utterly alien the Muggle things she talked about were was anything to go by, then she had a great deal to learn if she hoped to fit in here. “What kinds of things did you read?”
0Arthur and Arnold...Within the bounds of reason.0Arthur and Arnold05
The big pile of delicious waffle was steadily diminishing as Kitty chatted with the twins. “Yup!” She chirped happily when Arthur agreed that there was no reason to start loosing now. And hopefully this year I’ll be a chaser, and everything will be perfect Kitty thought as she crossed her fingers. It was almost disappointing that she didn’t get to participate in flying lessons this year, seems they’d been such fun last year. Well, that was just the price of getting older, and tryouts would be held soon enough. After that, they’d have practice regularly, as well as the games.
The parties did sound pretty boring, more like the dinner parties her mother some times had with co-workers. Parties where she had to try not to fidget, and listen to boring adults talk about even more boring subjects like the economy and politics. I guess even magic people can be boring The thought was sort of startling to the young muggleborn, who still saw the magic world as something fantastical amazing. To realize that it really wasn’t all dragons and flying and magic was something she would have to think further on later.
“Ohh, Well I read the True History of Merlin, which was pretty fascinating and didn’t bear much resemblance to the stories of him I’d heard as a kid. And a number of books about dragons, someday I’m going to study them in the wild! There were books on the History of flight, as well as other forms of magic transportation...” The list of books grew and had a randomness that while strange for anyone else fit Kitty perfectly. Most of her days had been spent in running free, while her nights had been spent devouring book after book after book. It was amazing she hadn’t died of exhaustion by the end of it.
Merlin, history of transportation, dragons…well, Arnold thought, he guessed when you didn’t know anything, learning something would get all muddled up, though he was still a little amazed that there were people besides Arthur who just read large numbers of books in no pattern he could see just because it amused them. Their brother Anthony read as much as Arthur did, but that wasn’t pleasure, that was part of Anthony’s training as the next heir. He spent most of his life bent over his books, but that was because he had to – an Anthony had to be one of the most educated, cultured men in the country, unlike his older twin brothers.
Once, Arnold had almost resented his younger brother for being the heir when he was not, even though he was the undisputed eldest of the three sons. Now, he didn’t. When he had been out on the grounds throwing a Quaffle around with Jay and Henry over the summer, Anthony had been bent over his desk, declining nouns in Latin. When he’d slept late a few times, his brother had been up, working on mathematics. He got a few breaks, a few days here and there where he didn’t have to work very much, but mostly, his work load made even Arthur’s look less dramatic.
It was fine for Arthur to do it if he wanted to, and was smart enough to, but Arnold didn’t know if he could stand to be forced to it for a million galleons, not the way Anthony was. He looked tired all the time. It was like the family was trying to work him into a nervous breakdown before he was fifteen to get rid of him – or like he was trying to work himself to one. What was the point of life if you never enjoyed any of it?
“Dragon-keeping isn’t a career I’d recommend,” Arthur was saying, as gravely as though he were a professional in these matters, “but whatever suits you.” Arnold tried not to laugh and was assisted by the thought of having no idea what might suit him. The family was, Arthur assured him, already thinking of how best to use them for its own ends, and though this seemed remarkable to him, he knew his brother was usually right, even if Arnold didn’t know how. He didn’t like it, though; he just wanted to play Quidditch.
0Arnold and ArthurNo, not really181Arnold and Arthur05