MetaFic

20 Jul 1991

“Boys!” Aoife's voice cut through the air easily, causing the four boys rough-housing in the distance to stop and look up. “Git in 'ere!” She never saw the point in telling them why she was calling them, as it was always a waste of time. The first thing they would ask once they entered was what she wanted from them. No matter if she told them when she called them, they would ask anyway.

Turning, she placed the stack of hot sandwiches on the table, which was already covered with drinks, fruit, dishes, and utensils. Moving over to the staircase, she called up in quieter voice that was still pitched to carry, “Ladies! Cum ayte!”

The scraping of moving furniture promptly echoed through the large country house, and prior murmurs became more distinct as a door opened. Moving back into the open, airy kitchen, Aoife paused to look at her husband, who had just emerged from the basement. “Ye ready ter ayte?”

“Smells gran', struggle an strife.” Darius leaned over and gave her a messy kiss with a jaunty wink before he disappeared into the bog. The running water as he washed his hands ended right as the three girls arrived and sat in their places, their conversation now a background hum as she poured drinks all around.

“Ma, waaat is it?” echoed into the room.

Raucous laughter came in from the back, but she knew it was part of an old routine. The constant asking of what she wanted from them had become a game of sorts. Shaking her head, she took her own seat at the opposite end as she called back, “Cum ayte, de lot av yer.”

The thunder of young boys, running water, and continued if low-key rough-housing dwindled only when the four boys entered and sat at the table, filling in the empty seats around Darius at the head of the table.

“Tis aboyt time, oi'm gettin' starval!”

“Seamus!” Aoife said sharply, trying not to laugh at his facial expression. “Be nice, nigh.”

Seamus' outrageous grin caused her no less amusement, but the chaos of a house full of children and guests was inevitably going to ruin manners. “Go on, ayte,” she said with a smile.

The boys as per usual had minimal interaction with the girls, despite all the murmuring at the boys' end and the giggling at the girls' end. She was amused to see that all three girls, between comments, were carefully watching the boys. The subjects of their scrutiny were as oblivious as always, mostly interested in discussing some hapless creature they had caught and potential fun for the afternoon. Of course, the girls were always watching when the boys were together.

“Ma?”

Her daughter's voice caught her attention, and she returned her focus to what was nearby. “Aye, Caitlin?”

“Dare be de post, Ma,” she replied. Following the extended finger on her seven-year-old fist, Aoife saw two owls trying to squeeze through a partially open window.

Wiping her hands on her napkin, she rose quickly. “'Ere now, jist a minute,” she called as she approached. When she opened the window all the way, both barn owls settled onto the sill before sticking their legs out. Absently removing the letters, she handed each owl a treat from the tin over the sink.“Wait 'ere,” she told the birds. “I'll send somethin' back.” Then she turned and went back to the table.

Silence had descended, she realised. Every child was looking at her with an upturned expression of pure excitement. “Ma?” Seamus' voice was barely in the tolerable volume range. “Ma?”

“Aye?” She knew it was borderline cruel to tease her boys that way, but that made it no less fun.

“Who are de letters for?” Now she really wanted to laugh; she had finally gotten to Harry. He was almost always more patient than Seamus at this game and took much longer to speak up. It was an understanding between them that he recognized her winding up of Seamus and sometimes even helped her a bit. That would not happen today, apparently.

“Dees?” She quickly flashed up the two letters before putting them back into her lap so the boys would not be able to see the seals on them. “Jist a bit av mail.” She tried to act as though it was no more than a bit of routine correspondence, but it was hard not to smile at their faces.

“Ma!”

Seamus was straining to not jump out of his chair, she could tell. Darius was laughing at her with his eyes, knowing as well as she did what was going on. She had told him yesterday they should expect the letters sometime today and that she had no intention of telling the children. There had never been any question of them being magical. All of her children consistently displayed skills that had her either laughing or yelling, but it was a good sort of chaos to have.

Deciding that she had teased them enough, she held them up much slower. “Looks loike yer 'av been invited ter go ter Hogwarts.”

Bedlam broke out briefly as the boys all cheered, though she noticed the girls were just as happy. “Nigh, Harry, yer 'ill need ter spend yer summer week at 'ome wi' Petunia soon. We've got ter go ter Diagon Alley after dat.”

Harry nodded happily, receiving the letter passed down to him at the same time as Seamus. The two boys ripped them open, and it was clear that all thoughts of food were gone for the moment.

“Excellent,” Michael breathed, reading over Harry's shoulder. “I wonder if I've got mine back at home?”

“Proobably,” Aoife told him. “They send dem al' oyt on de seem day. Likely waitin' for yer roi' nigh. Seem fer yer, Neville.”

Lunch resumed in short order, with the boys debating about what attending Hogwarts would be like. They would all be there together, of course, though who knew what houses they might wind up in. Aoife was honest enough to admit that she feared the outcome of that moment a bit, but mostly for the teachers, not the boys.

Getting up to write a return letter of acceptance for her boys, Aoife chuckled at the idea of the sorting. She almost wished she were going for the first time, too.