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Previous Of Fishies and Bedtime Tales The Professor and His Query Next

October 11, 1991

Hestia Jones walked briskly down the street.

Behind her, the light of a street lamp illuminated the wet sidewalk and puddles lining the street curb.  It lit upon her dark brown curls flouncing up and down as she ascended the stairs up to her apartment building and through the door.

She hurried down the hall and up a few more flight of stairs, her heeled boots making a clacking sound as she walked.  Down one more hall, and then she was there at her own welcome mat, the chipped golden number 33 on a red door.

Most of the time, she simply Disapparated from work straight to her apartment.  It was lot easier that way and she didn't have to worry about anyone seeing—there were hundreds of people Apparating and Disapparating from the Atrium every day, after all, and Muggles couldn't see in to the entrance hall of her place, so it really didn't matter.  But today she'd had to work late, and then her old boss, Phoebus Portlock, had taken her to dinner as a thank you for giving him the incentive to retire, so she'd had to call up a baby-sitter for Evan on short notice.

The woman opened her door and dropped her wand on the small table beside it, and trudged in through the door wearily.

She idly wondered which mood her son was in today.  His stubborn mood and imperious mood were emphatically not fun to be around, and she pitied Dora if that was the case.  But his lonely mood and dreamy mood and serious mood were equally odd to be around on a kid that was only five, and even after all this time, Hestia still had trouble understanding him at times.

Luckily for her, however, he was now in his rather playful mood.

“I'm home!” she called out, and there was a pattering of small feet and a little boy came into view before rushing at her with a hug.  “Oof!  What are you, a ferocious bear today?  That was a crushing hug if I ever saw one!”

“No, Mummy, I's a liger!  See my sharp teeth?  They're all clean and I didn't miss any spots at all because Dora said if I did then I couldn't have a bedtime story and I really, really want one,” he said.

“Were you a good boy for Dora?” she asked, sweeping back the bangs of his golden hair that constantly fell into his face to get a better look into his eyes.

She could always tell simply by getting a good look into her boy's eyes whether he was fibbing or telling a half-truth.  Most people didn't notice, but his wide eyes, normally a light blue, would get a darker tinge to them sometimes and it almost seemed as if it wasn't entirely him looking out…if that made any sense, she thought.  However, they were their normal color this time around.

“Yeeees,” he said hesitating.  “’Cept when I yelled ’cause she got soap in my eyes.  It really hurts, Mummy, and I don't like it.”

“Oh, I know you don't, hun.  Would you like me to kiss them better for you?” she asked, then leaned down at his nod and kissed both of his eyelids with a dramatic flair.  “There.  Now you can see angels!”

He opened his eyes and looked around excitedly.  They played this game a lot—if she kissed him in a certain spot, then something magical would happen.  Last week, she gave him a kiss on the mouth and he was able to roar like a real live lion; the week before, she gave him a kiss on the head and exclaimed at how long his hair had grown in just that short minute, which meant that he needed to get a trim.

After a brief examination of the room, he slumped.  “But I don't see any!”

“Of course you don't, silly.  I kissed your eyelids, which means that you have to wait until you fall asleep to see them.  Are you all ready for bed?”

“Uh-huh!  An’ I'm wearing my monkey pajamas!  Which means I get to be a—a—a monkey!” he yelled excitedly, before running back into his bedroom.

She sighed and chuckled after him, then began shedding her favorite rose-colored cloak and tan scarf and coat.  For it being October, it was surprisingly cold out, which meant that frost would set in early this year, which meant they had just a week or two before winter came, which meant that she'd need to get Evan old winter clothes out and get him shopping for new ones.  She swore that boy was using some of his wild magic to grow just so that he could reach up and get a hold of the sweets tin easier.

“Wotcher, Hes!” called a voice from the kitchen.

She kicked her boots off and went to get a drink.  Nymphadora Tonks (looking rather like her mother today with dark hair, but with the lime-green highlights that Hestia was certain Andromeda would never sport) was seated at the kitchen table, hunched over a sheet of parchment.

“Thank you so much, Dora, for watching him on such short notice,” Hestia said.

Dora was her second cousin, once removed, and though the two weren't particularly close, they did try to help each other out now and again.  And she had known that Dora needed the money—Auror training was hard work and didn't pay much, so she'd been her first choice in a baby-sitter.

Dora looked up.  “He wasn't a problem.  We had fun, really.  His animal phase is really cute—I hope you don't mind, we played this game where I would change my face to fit which animal he was acting like and then we chased each other around a bit.  He loved it.”

“Mummy!  Guess what, Mummy!” Evan said excitedly, running back into the kitchen.  “I was a he'p!  I was a big, big he'p, she said!”

“Oh, really?  What did you help with?”

“Training,” Dora answered for him.  “I've got this big test after Christmas break that I've been studying for.  Oh, d'you remember the little hand-wave that comes with the Protean Charm?  Is it an O-wave and then a flick, or a flick and then an O-wave?”

“Neither.  That's for the defensive spells, remember?  The Protean's a flick and then a sharp jab at the object.  But remember to make your wand start at the left, otherwise it backfires and your hand is the object you'll be changing,” said Hestia, sitting down and letting her almost-six-year-old scramble onto her lap.

“Wow, how d'you remember that stuff?  You should be the Auror, not me—I always forget to take my wand out when we go out into the course,” chuckled Dora.

“I excelled in Charms, is all.  Believe me, becoming an Auror is the last thing on my mind.  I like the occasional excitement and suspense, but having to live it at every hour of the day is too much for me.  I'd much rather leave it my stories…” she muttered.

“Oh?  Where d'you work again, Hes?” said Dora.

“Magical Games and Sports.  Been there for about…oh, four years now, since my old department merged in with it,” Hestia replied, making faces at Evan, who was playing with her vest buttons.

“Oooh, in the Quidditch office?” Dora asked excitedly.

“Oh, I wish.  It would be nice to work there someday.  Merlin knows I connect with it a lot more and it is much more to my liking, but…well, this job is what pays the bills.”  She stopped, a furtive look in her eyes as she thought about what she'd just said.  Then she looked back up at her cousin and smiled, a bit too brightly.  “Anyway I work mostly in household games, cards and things.  If you see a new twist in the Exploding Snap cards or Wizard Monopoly, that would be us.  Oh, and Witch Checkers?  Totally my idea,” she said, winking.

Dora grinned, then looked at the clock and yelped.  “Sweet Bertie's beans!  It's ten already?  Mum's gonna kill me!  I told her I'd be at the hospital at nine-forty-five in time to pick her up—”

“Tell her it's my fault.  Hold on, let me pay you—” she quickly fetched the money from her purse, which was made difficult by Evan playing puppy underneath the table.  Dora thanked her and shouted a frazzled goodbye before Apparating, knocking over her kitchen chair in the process.

“Merlin, but that girl's a hazard,” Hestia murmured, righting it.

“Hey, Mummy, guess what!” Evan said, forsaking his game and following her out of the kitchen.  “I readed, and Dora says I can he'p her do spells when she comes next time!  Can I, please?”

“Erm…I don't really know, Evan.  I don't know when she'll be able to baby-sit you again.  Hopefully not for a very long time because Mummy's new boss says that she can work better hours, which means that Mummy can see little Evan much more!”

He whooped, then stopped and frowned.  “But I's not little, Mummy, not any more, ‘member?  You said a big boy's when you go pee-in-the-loo-standin'-up, an’ I can do that!  I'm a big boy!  Hey, Mummy, can you go pee-in-the-loo-standin'-up?  Huh, Mummy?”

Evan followed her as she set off down the hall.

She chuckled.  “No, sirree, not Mummy.  Girls can't go pee standing up, remember?”

“But…but…” he hesitated, looking perplexed.  “You're still a big girl?  Even if'n you can't go pee-in-the-loo-standin'-up?”

“Yes, Evan.  I'm a big girl.”

Hestia flicked the light on in his room, illuminating the toys scattered about—the open wardrobe with pajamas slewn over the sides, revealing his dressing indecision of the evening; the large bookcase with all of his favorite stories, the smaller children's books at the bottom in a jumble from his reading exploits that day, and all of the older ones that they read together at the top where he couldn't reach; the cedar chest where he kept his toys fallen on its side with toys strewn about the floor, a few of the magical ones still going, and a toy broom looping the room.

“Merlin!  Evan, your room's a mess, what happened?” she said in dismay.

“We played!”

“Well, of course you played, I can see that.  But just how are we going to clean it up?  It's past your bedtime, I don't know why you're still up this late even without school in the morning…”

“Wi’ magic!  Wi’ magic, Mummy, do magic!” he squealed, running into the front room to get her wand.

“Evan!  Evan, don't touch my wand, you might—!”

Crash!

She raced out of the room and out into the living room, where she subsequently fell flat on her back.

“Oh no!” came a cry of dismay.  “Mummy, I lost him!  I lost my fishy!”

Hestia gingerly picked herself off the floor and saw just what it was that had happened.

Water was all over the floor and covering her clothes, she noticed.  Pieces of glass littered the floorboards and what was left of a broken, empty fishtank was balanced precariously on the bookcase.

Evan, next to the door had her wand still clutched in his hands, a tearful look on his face.  He moved forward, but whether he was going to run to her or start looking for his lost fish, she didn't know, nor did she care to find out.

“Evan, don't!” she said sharply.  “There's glass all over the floor and you're barefoot.  Stay right where you are.”

She began to move herself, but stopped when she remembered she didn't have her shoes on either.  “Evan, can you throw me my boots?  But try not to move your feet, okay?”

He nodded and looked behind him for her shoes.  Being five, he couldn't throw awkward things very well, and they landed four feet in front of her.  She carefully picked her way through the water to get them, then shoved her feet inside, not bothering to lace them up.  Evan lifted his arms for her to pick him up and she carried him into the kitchen.

“Get the water running in the sink then plug up the hole.  I'm going to go find Merlin,” she said.

“Okay!”

He ran to drag a kitchen chair over to the counter, something he'd had practice doing over the years, but she had already gone back into the wet living room.  It didn't take her long to find the poor fish—he was lying on his side under the bureau, flapping around and trying to breathe.

She scooped him up, careful to get water in her hand as well, and hurried to the kitchen sink.

“Merl'n!” Evan cried, clapping his hands excitedly as she placed Merlin in the water.

Merlin was an angel fish, with shimmery white scales and long, wispy fins that trailed behind him when he swam; but what set him apart from other pet store fish was his size.  Hestia wasn't quite sure whether he was supposed to be almost as big as her hand and still growing, or not—she thought for sure it was in the fish food at first, but after she and Evan changed brands for the fourth time, she gave it up as simply a genetic disorder.  In any case, his size didn't seem to be hurting him any, and as she was thinking of getting him a larger fishtank anyway, the one Evan accidentally broke didn't seem to matter.

She left Evan to his happy fish-watching duties and went to clean up the mess.

It wasn't until after all the water had been vanished and the broken glass repared and wet clothes dried, that the tired mother and son sat down in the boy's room, which had now been sufficiently cleaned with magic, however much she hadn't wanted to at first.

“All right, young man.  Now what did we learn today?”

Evan hung his head and said sulkily, “Never play wi’ Mummy's wand.”

“And why not?” she aked.

“’Cause Merl'n will havetuh sleep in the sink, and Mummy will be mad.”

“And will you be playing with my wand in the future?” she said.

He shook his head emphatically.

“Then I don't need to be mad anymore.”

She enveloped him in a hug, and he obliged with the same.

“Are we ready for a story?”

“Yep, yep!” he said happily.

“Which one would you like to hear?” she asked, sitting down in the rocking chair beside the bed and turning out the lights with a flick of her wand.  The only light that could be seen now was a nightlight in the corner and the light streaming in from the hall.

He yawned sleepily.  “Th-the one with the little prince.”

Her heart skipped when he said this, and she sighed sadly.  It was only natural for him to want to hear it so much, but she always hated telling it.  She didn't like being reminded of what she had lost…but then, looking at his face every day and into his eyes…it was often hard to forget.

“All right…once upon a time…” she began, her voice taking on the storytelling tone she knew only too well, “There lived a young prince in a distant land, with eyes as blue as the afternoon sky and hair as bright as the golden sun…”

Evan blinked sleepily, and he smiled in the far-off way that he always did when she told her stories.  He snuggled down beneath his covers and pulled his favorite stuffed turtle up to his chest for comfort.

“This little prince had a very happy life, but he was still very little.  He had a mischievous older brother and two equally smart and pretty sisters, and all four of the princes and princesses had a beautiful mother who took very good care of them, and a brave father who took care of the kingdom and stopped all the bad men and the monsters from coming in,” Hestia continued.  Her eyes saddened and the soft smile drifted off of her face.  “But one night, a bad man entered the kingdom and brought a monster with him, and they tricked the king so that he didn't even know they were bad.”

“That was naughty, huh?” he said solemnly.

“Yes,Evan…that was very naughty,” she agreed.  “And the next day while the queen was bathing the youngest prince, the bad man and the monster came…and they took the king and queen and the princesses and the older prince away.  But since they did not know that there was another, and that little prince was taking a bath, they left him behind.”

“Th'monster never smelled him?  ’Cause monsters have big noses, Mummy,” Evan interjected knowingly.

“No, the monster couldn't smell him.  He was in the water, you see, and he had been scrubbed from head to toe so he didn't smell like himself.  And from the scents of the soap his mother used and the shampoo and the flowery bath salts, the monster's nose didn't like it at all and he didn't even know the little prince was there,” she said.  “But it was a very good thing that he did because the little prince had someone who loved him very much and didn't want to see him get hurt.”

“He was all lonely?” asked Evan tiredly.  “Was he very lonely with no fam'ly?”

“Yes…for a little while he was.  But this person who loved him very much was also very lonely, because the queen was her sister, and she loved the queen's family with all of her heart.  And because the littlest prince didn't have a family anymore, she decided to become his new mummy so that they could have each other and not be lonely anymore…” Hestia trailed off.

“An’…an’ did she love him lots and lots?” he said.

Hestia smiled fondly at her surrogate son.  “Yes…she did.”

“An’…was he happy?”

“But of course he was.  He loved his new mummy very much and they played together in their new home and had lots of fun.  But she never ever let him forget about his real mother and his real daddy and his brother and sisters,” she said.

“But…but wha’ about the monster and the…the…” He yawned.

“The monster and the bad man were very far away.  And just to make sure that they never found out about the little prince that they left behind, the woman and her new son changed their names and their homes so they wouldn't be found,” Hestia murmured, smoothing back the hair from Evan's forhead lovingly.  “But they always made sure that his family could still find them in their dreams, so they could all be together…if only for one night.  And so, they lived happily ever after…”

“The end,” he finished for her.

She smiled softly and bent down to give him a kiss.  “I love you, my little prince.”

He yawned again as she walked away, then half-sat up and asked in a small, plaintive voice, “Mummy?”

“Yes, dear?”  Hestia turned around.

“D'you dream ’bout Muther and Daddy and Toby and Mory and Lexa?”

She regarded him with a contemplative look in her eyes, then she smiled sadly.

“Yes, Evander…every night.”

Then, turning off the light, she blew him a kiss, and walked off down the hall.

Evan Jones, formerly Evander Rosier, flopped back down on his pillow with a smile and a sigh.  “Good…me too.”

And with that, he told the voices in his head good night and went to sleep, dreaming of a castle where his mother and father were waiting for him and he could play with his brother and sisters beside a lion, a snake, an eagle, and a badger.

Previous Of Fishies and Bedtime Tales The Professor and His Query Next

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