couples
"Alejandro Herrera." The words slipped off of Emmeline's lips so effortlessly that Caradoc was fairly certain if he had been born here instead of England, that would have been his name. A crooked smile formed on his face as he looked down at her with rosy cheeks. His arm around her waist loosened slightly, dropping to her hip.

"Si." It was good to see her again, after all this time. At least a decade; Caradoc had stopped trying to remember a few years ago. Though, that didn't mean he couldn't see the years on her face. It was far more stately and reserved than it needed to be, obvious indicators that she had stayed in England.

"Lucky you came here, of all places," Caradoc said in a low tone, almost as if the stiffling atmosphere prohibited him from talking in any other way. He turned to Emmeline, proping his palm up against the wall behind her ear. She sent him a look [the look, that hadn't changed at all], before letting her shoulders drop back against the alley wall and form a funny smile on her face.

The old smirk that hadn't played on his face for a long time broke through, and Caradoc didn't miss a beat in stepping closer to her to roughly press his mouth onto hers. He didn't have anything to worry about. She wasn't going back there and-- well, come on.

This was Panama.


"Maaaaammmmmm!"

Henry Jugson gave an impatient jiggle under his mother's grasp, acting as if bouncing up and down through his knees would make her let go of him. He could hear the train starting to heat up to go, Da had already put his trunk on the train, the other children's voices screaming inaudible words to their parents, laughter, and things he wanted to be apart of but---- she just wouldn't let him go already. They had gone over this; he was more than ready. There wasn't anything to worry about, it wasn't like he didn't know people. After all, they had seen Theodore, and--- well, it sucked that Evan wouldn't be coming here seeing as they were in France but----

"Oh, you can give your only mother one hug before leaving her for ten months," Anneliese Jugson sighed, loosening her grip, but still not fully letting go. This was her baby. How did they expect her to just be okay with letting Henry not be home all the time? He wasn't grown up yet; Anneliese knew that he was ready to be, but that didn't mean she was.

"Maaaaammmmmm!"

Rolling her eyes, "Ohhhhkay," Anneliese copied his tone and putting on a brave smile. She finally let go, and at that very moment a bright smile spread across Henry's face. But, wait---

"Ehhh mam! There are people here." Henry's face scrunched into one of displeasure as Anneliese kissed his cheek one last time. She let out a small laugh, and wiped her face as he did the same. This was so sad--- and so silly, she shouldn't be crying, the boy needed to be educated. As a Ravenclaw. Who also played Quidditch.

"Remember to write to your father to tell him how old he is before tomorrow!" But Henry had already jumped onto the train and Will had come forward with Gabrielle, who also looked upset and clutched onto Anneliese's hand as soon as she was able to. Anneliese let out a light sniff; she had promised herself not to cry. She felt her husband wrap an arm around her waist and---

"OKAY! I WILL! PROMISE!" Henry's little head popped out of a random window and--- oh, now she was laughing and crying, like one of those crazy parents.


"We have time?"

"No, we don't."

"Yes we do, don't be silly."

"No we don't, Ralph Jackson Merridew!"

"Noo, look--- Marlie's still singing, that means we have at least two more minutes."

Ralph sent down the best convincing smile he was capable of to Miranda, who obviously, was thinking things over. It was a bit cramped in their little broom closet, but Ralph found that it worked well enough. What they were doing didn't exactly need a lot of space.

"Hmmmm, maybe you're right," Miranda said softly, pulling at the sleeves of her costume before dropping them over Ralph's neck again to pull him closer. Grinning widely, he wrapped his arm around her waist again, wasting no time in forcefully starting another heated snog session. See, this was how actors [and actresses] wasted time back stage. It was such a glorious thing, not to mention---

"WHERE THE HELL ARE DODDERIDGE AND MERRIDEW?"

At the same time, the both of them pulled away hitting both sides of the walls and letting out loud snorts and giggles. "Shhh!" Miranda laughed, opening the door with one hand and holding onto the front of Ralph's shirt with the other. Miranda tugged him toward, which caused him to trip over his feet and fall forward onto her, which resulted in---

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING? GET TO YOUR BLOODY SPOTS!"


Hm.

Gideon was going to be upset, she could tell already.

Not only was Monsieur currently missing after sprinting out through an open window [with a petrified Buzzer hiding in an corner upstairs], but the kitchen looked like a tornado had gone through it; the table had been moved inches away from it's regular spot, chairs were on the ground, magnets had fallen off of the refrigerator, cabinet doors were open and things from letters to boxes were spilled all across the counters. And, in the center as if untouched, stood Gleny and Tristan. Gleny, with a look of pure shock on her face, and the baby with a look of pure amusement.

He had found the whole extravagant turn of events amusing beyond belief; quite the contrary to his mother. She looked like she had just watched a turtle do a back flip five times.

"It's not funny, Mister! We have to---- your father is coming home soon and--- we have to go find a cat!" She didn't even know how this had all happened, it had been so quick and all she had really done was pick Tristan up from his high chair and then... the owl had come in, scaring Monsieur who had ran head first into the table, which had caused Buzzer who had been sitting on the table to jump into chairs, turning them over and then all because of that the owl had hit the refrigerator knocking all of that over and---- a loud sigh escaped her lips. And she had just cleaned the kitchen yesterday.

"Monnnnnsieuuurrrr!" Gleny whined, not daring to move just yet. From in her arms, Tristan wiggled with excitement at the sound of his mother's voice. "Commee baccccck!"


Anneliese wasn't sure how much unluckier she could get. Not only did she have the late-night prefect shift [on a tuesday, no less], but she had to share it with Zachary Sloper. For a whole another hour. Added onto the two they had already gloriously spent together. She was pretty sure she was ready to either kill him, or kill herself.

"Come on, Anneliese, it's not like you have a boyfriend or anything," Zach tested, sticking his chin up slightly, looking at her. A stupid grin was spread across his face, and he stepped closer to her.

Ugh, no, gag her. It was late, but it wasn't that late.

"No Zach, I will not--- for the hundredth time--- snog you simply because you feel the need to--- snog all the 5th year prefects," she said to him, stepping out and away from him.

"Anne," Zach tried again, following Anneliese like a shadow and stepping to her side. "Think about it. What does it really hurt? It's not like I want do date you or anything."

Anneliese formed a disgruntled face [for more than one reason], let out a disgusted noise, and turned her head away from him as they walked. How much longer? Maybe, by some miracle, 15 minutes had already passed and---

Oh sweet Merlin.

Even as she forcefully thrust Zach away from her [ew, ew; his lips had definitely met hers, ew; she could feel his spit in her mouth and her skin burn where he touched her], Anneliese could see that wide smirk of his spread all across his face. Hands forming into little balls, Anneliese let her shoulders begin to shake as her face turned redder and redder. Zach let out a cackle before turning on his heel, and sprinting down the corridor, hands waving.

"YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"


"Catherine is not marrying Marcus."

"Why not!"

"Because."

"Because why? Is your own godson not good enough for her?"

Caradoc let his eyes drop in aggravation, sending Emmet the best glare he could manage while pretending to hold a baby correctly. Well, no-- he was, because if he wasn't, Dorcas would pop out of a wall and start harassing him until he was doing so properly. Honestly, it was like she had some seventh sense when it came to things like that. Catherine blinked up at him lazily, and rolled a bit in his arms.

"Yes, jackass, that's it. I hate my godson and think that--"

"LANGUAGE!"

Caradoc rolled his eyes, ignoring Emmet has he flailed his arms, almost making a funny dance as if that would make what Marcus and Catherine not hear the bad 'word' they had just heard. Caradoc stood up, balancing his daughter in his arms and began to walk away.

"Just because you won't get married---" Emmet started smartly a few minutes later, moving away from Marcus to follow Caradoc and Catherine.

"We're not talking about this," Caradoc interrupted in a stripped voice, shoving Catherine into Emmet's arms as he collected their things. This idiotic mock play date was definitely over now. Caradoc was not about to talk to Emmet about this subject again. Quietly, Catherine gave a squeak of displeasure as her eyes began to well up.

"Yes, we are; I don't know why you won't just marry her, it's not like you don't have a kid together or anything," Emmet began with a smirk on his face. Stoic, Caradoc took Catherine back without a word. Though, the baby had already had too much and began to sniffle even louder.

"We're leaving now, say goodbye to your soon-to-be-excommunicated uncle, Catherine."

"You're not doing anything today, so that really just shows how you physically can't---"

"What are you, my bloody daily planner?"

"Well, if you would just be open to the idea of Marcus and Catherine..."


"Here."

"Excuse me?" Juliet glanced at Rhys, watching him more closely with her arms crossed over her chest.

Flustered, Rhys jingled the flower in his hand lightly as they walked, wanting nothing more for her to just take it out of his hands. "I'm giving it to you. As a gift. See?" He pushed it closer to her, nearly willing to just drop it into her arms.

"Well, I don't want it."

"What."

"You heard me."

"I'm giving it to you, you don't really have an option here."

"Oh, yes I do--- I decline."

"Take it!"

"No."

"Just take the damn flower already!"

"I said no. Why would I want it? It's only going to be dead in a hour," Juliet sniped at him, tightening her arms around her chest and pulling her cloak closer around her body. "It's not like the more you shake it, the more I want it."

At that point, Rhys pulled his lips together tight with frustration. Watch anyone see him do anything for her anymore; it must have been a momentary burst of craziness for him to believe that doing that would actually be publicly acceptable.

"You---well---I---er---argh!"


"Come on, Deaborn--- I only want one." Frank Longbottom's face had gotten so wide and stupid at this point, it was more than apparent Caradoc was this close to just ripping his face off. And Frank's. The hoots and cheers coming from the loose circle surrounding them intensified at Frank's new proposal. Caradoc scowled even further. Bloody Gryffindors.

"You're not funny," Caradoc spat, standing up quickly from his chair to leave no room for interpretation in the matter. Though Frank, being the annoying prat that he was, followed the older man like a shadow. Not before long, Frank was standing in front of Caradoc once again, glowering and cutting him off from walking any further in the process. Oh, he was so getting his food poisoned tomorrow.

"Yes I am, everyone knows that I---"

"Come on, Caradoc, look at this stud. Honestly." James Potter's voice stuck out from the small crowd. Soon though, he too was hovering over Frank's right shoulder, grinning madly. Oh, Caradoc was very sure he was loving this. "He's an Auror. Oooohh! How attractive!"

"Why don't you---"

"Well, let's just get this over with, then," Sirius Black stated from behind Frank, and not missing a beat as he shoved his friend right into Caradoc's face. They both fell to the floor and---- ughhh, he was going to kill someone.


A shrill laugh echoed across the sprawling lawn, though the parents watching from the deck above in the house wouldn't be able to know which child had screamed with laughter that loudly. Both of the seven-year-olds were running around and falling down and showing so much energy, it really would be pointless to try and decipher. Not to mention take away from the game they were playing. Which they certainly did not want to do; Frank Longbottom and Marlene McKinnon had a tendency to wear each other out on their play-dates.

"No, no, no--- Marlie! Look! I'll show you, it's, it's---"

"Franklin Longbottom, you don't need to show--- I know how to get on a broom," Marlie interrupted Frank, giving him the best 'my-brother-taught-me-how-to-do-this' face she could muster without seeming too much like a know it all. She took the small broom into her hands, mounting it awkwardly at first, but eventually settling down comfortably. Bouncing on her heels, she grinning at Frank.

"See--- see? I wonder--- if it'll go up high. I bet it will." A thrilled look spread across her face.

"Yeah, yeah----yeah! Well, Derrick said that, that---" A look of concern grew on Frank's face as he watched Marlie eagerly. What if, what if--- Frank watched in sheer amazement as his friend not only soared above the standard toes-touching-the-ground, but well above his head, and higher, and higher and higher and----

"MARRRLLIIEEEEEE, GET BACK HEEEEERREEEEEE!"


"Ici--- Asseyez ici. Non! Ne touchez pas! Do you even know what that can do to you?"

"Then why is it here?"

A triumphant little look spread across Evan Nott's face as he snatched the object off his father's desk and right beneath his sister's fingers [not to mention forcing their father to speak in English to them]. Giving a protestant noise, Aemelia pulled her face up tight--- until it dawned on her how much fun it would be to gang up on her father.

"Yes Papa, why?" Her voice rang out innocently sweet, but Rhys knew better than that; she had learned that little trick from her mother. Who, by the by, he was cursing out into oblivion at this point for dropping the twins on him today. How dare she just come by and leave them here unannounced with nothing as even a book to keep them quiet? Surprisingly enough, he did actually have to do something to earn money for this family.

"Donnez-moi," Rhys stated through his teeth as he pulled his wand out with a swipe. The three of them watched as the small box zipped out of Evan's tiny little hands and up onto a high cabinet in the corner of the office. High squeals of protest filled the room, but Rhys paid no attention. "Et parlez en anglais." How had he ended up getting stuck with only speaking French for the rest of his life with these two?

"Uuggghhh, I hate French; it makes my ears throb," Evan groaned as he fell into the seat behind him, laying himself on it very dramatically. Aemelia made a face as she sat down as well, indiscreetly eyeing the box out of her left eye. Oh, it would be opened by the end of the day, no worries about that. Now, there was only the matter of getting their father out of his office with leaving his wand with them. Simple enough, yes? Aemelia turned and smiled to her brother, her eyes full. Once Evan caught her eye, he sat up straight in his chair and the room automatically went silent. They began to watch Rhys as he pulled papers from under his desk.

Rhys pulled back slightly once he finally noticed their unbreaking gaze on him, knowing what it meant almost instantly. Fucking hell.


"I think I'm going to start hyperventilating."

"No you're not! Don't say something like that."

"No, no I'm fairly certain it's coming, I can feel it."

Juliet Dearborn rolled her eyes as she sat in her chair in the middle of the room, apparently 'waiting' for Anneliese very-soon-to-be-Jugson, to start hyperventilating. She plucked at an invisible strand on her dark green bridesmaid dress, speaking lowly. "That's not possible, actually, no one can really know when something like that is going to happen, so I don't know why you're so---"

"What Juliet means to say is that you're not going into bride shock about three seconds before you walk down the isle while we're your bridesmaids," Ellie Bell quickly interrupted as she stepped in and began to play with a bow on Anneliese's dress, shooting Juliet a knowing look behind Anneliese's back. Juliet rolled her eyes again, but said nothing as Anneliese began to wave her hands feverishly around her face.

"No, no--- I can tell, I can tell, it is, it---"

"Stop it!" Emmeline Vance swooped in from almost nowhere, lightly smacking her friend's hands to get her to stop. Anneliese pulled a face, but remained quiet for a few seconds. An accomplished look spread across Emmeline's face as she collapsed back into her chair, watching Anneliese look at herself in the mirror. Only a few more minutes, just a few more; the music was bound to start at any time and then this crazed Anneliese would disappear. Hopefully.

The door banged open and Juliet, Emmeline and Ellie all jumped up at once to meet the onslaught that was the Jugson sisters. Bree, Caitlin, Deidra and Erin all rushed into the room squealing and making comforted and exciting noises.

"This is such a big day!"

"We're so happy for you!"

"Everything is so beautiful!"

"So how excited ARE YOU?"

Anneliese gave a feeble, inaudible response, her lip wobbling slightly. Oh yes, this was definitely not what she needed right then, and true to their form, the three Ravenclaw girls jumped into the group, trying their best to calm things down. Juliet pushed her way through to the inner circle, leading the way for Emmeline and Ellie.

"Everything's about to start!"

"We need to talk to Anneliese alone!"

"That means please go. Nicely."


"What are you doing?"

Caradoc Dearborn gazed down at Walden Macnair, not even trying to hold back the ill look spread all across his face. This one was strange--- beyond strange to the point where Caradoc really wondered what thing had given birth to him. Because surely, no mother would approve of a Walden Macnair type, let alone name her child 'Walden' lovingly.

"Experimenting," Walden replied promptly, pushing his glasses further up his nose and leaning in more closely to whatever it was that had intrigued him so much on the ground. It was too dark for Caradoc to tell what it was from where he was standing, and honestly, he didn't really care. Just as long as this bugger didn't suddenly lash out and try to eat him, Walden could do whatever he damn well pleased.

"Yeah, okay," Caradoc responded in a dull tone, fidgeting with his mask as he bent back to lean against a tree. "Keep telling yourself that. No one will ever catch on."

A hiss came from the younger boy, and Caradoc sent a dubious look. Where had they found this kid anyway? America, probably. They come up with the craziest shit over there, he would probably fit right in. But the better question was how had he, Caradoc, gotten stuck with him, Walden, on the lamest 'mission' ever (if it even could be called that)? Watch a house all night? A bloody monkey could do that. Why was it so important for two people to do it when he, Caradoc, had much better things to do? Like, oh... he didn't know.... maybe try poking his eyes out for some giggles?

A soft pop came from the ground, and Walden gave a hiss of glee. Lip turning up, Caradoc slid his mask back over his head, breathing actual fresh air in at least an hour. Okay, that was definitely enough. "Just--- you know what Macnair? It's your lucky day! You get to go home early!" Caradoc's voice was so fake, he hardly doubted Walden would believe him. "I'll take care of it from here. You just go home and pick out some more animal brain to your heart's content."

Even in the dark, Walden's glare was seen, and Caradoc rolled his eyes. "I'm staying," Walden responded in a low voice, and stood up from the ground, leaving his toy of interest where it lay and coming closer to Caradoc.

"Oh joy."


Ralph Merridew wrung his hands together nervously, practically feeling the sweat drop down from his forehead to the floor. Why had he even let Miranda talk him into meeting any of her family members (as if that wasn't stressful enough), though especially one of her brothers? The oldest brother! Right? Yes, that was what she had said before she'd scurried away to fetch him. His name was....wasn't--- oh, hell what did she said his name was? Mathew... Mortimer... Michael.... Maddox? Maddox! Wasn't it? Yes, that was it. He was nearly fifty percent sure about that one. And forget about her other brothers.

Holy hell, Ralph didn't even know what he looked like, let alone be confident concerning his name. Why, why had Ralph come here; this was a bad, bad very bad idea. In just a few minutes he was going to be interrogated by Miranda's nameless, unknown older brother because that was what older brothers did when it came to younger sister's boyfriends and it Mathimealox didn't see fit....

"Hi--- Ralph, is it? Maddox Dodderige," Maddox Dodderidge said as he appeared in the crowd, sticking out his hand to shake with. A hint of a smile played on his face as he stood with a drink in his hand.

Ralph stood up quickly, acting eager to shake Maddox's [yes, he had been right--- sort of] hand. He tried to do so with energy, but found he was running low already. Oh, hell, let the torture begin.

"So Ralph," Maddox started in a low tone, wrapping his left arm around Ralph's shoulder. "We're going to pretend that I had this very serious brother-to-sister's boyfriend-talk, when in reality you're going to tell me all about how you think Gryffindor will do in Quidditch this year. Sounds good, yeah?" Maddox's smile widened as he looked at Ralph from over his cup. Yes, the boy definitely hadn't been expecting that, but there was no reason to scare him off. Right away, anyway.


hmmmm xDD


"Wait, but---"

Anneliese let out a loud laugh, not even trying to cover her mouth to stop her voice from bouncing across the corridor. Eventually she did, and as she covered her mouth with her hands, she bumped into the wall and slid down it. It was just too late in the night for them to actually be able to think seriously.

"Dedalus. I don't even know," she tried, shrugging her shoulders as her knees knocked together.