#what do you mean you don't write soppy love letters to your OCs

[lifeofkaze]

Little Things

Dear Lizzie, the moment you wandered into my life as the self-insert you never wanted to be, you changed everything, as strange as it may sound. May you always be your lovely, nosy, petty af, sunny self and give me all the stress, exasperation and stories I never wanted to write in the first place. No matter if you're a Quidditch player, Rockstar, Huntress, or Joker, please don't ever change.

Happy Birthday, darling girl 💛

A/N: Mum mayhem. Some of these scenes may or may not be inspired by real events.

The sound ringing through the sleepy cottage on the coast of Montrose was loud, piercing, and impossible to ignore. Lizzie groaned as she raised her head from the pillows, extending an arm to sweep the alarm clock off her nightstand. She buried her face in her pillows again, but it was already too late - she was awake. 

“It surely can’t be morning?” Orion muttered next to her, his voice still raspy from sleep - or rather, a lack thereof. “I swear it was midnight five minutes ago.”

All Lizzie had to spare in response was a nondescript, muffled noise. That fact that even Orion, who was a notoriously early riser, had been broken from his sleep was telling enough as it was. 

“Me neither,” she sighed eventually, grumbling in protest as Orion switched on the lights. “It feels like I went to bed an hour ago.” 

She wasn’t exaggerating. With one toddler teething and the other convinced of there being a Chimaera hiding in his wardrobe, Lizzie had spent a greater part of her night getting out of bed than actually being in it. She would usually share parental duties with Orion, but he had a full day of Quidditch practice scheduled for the day, and the weather was supposed to be bad. Riding a broomstick in a winter storm was dangerous as it was, so Lizzie would rather do three night shifts on her own than let him fly unrested. 

“Do you feel ready for the day?” she wanted to know, watching him get out of bed and do some stretches to shake the last remnants of sleep. 

“There’s no such thing as being ready,” Orion declared, smirking as he caught Lizzie watching him. “When you’re willing to accept what fate has in store for you, you’ll face every challenge with gratitude and grace. Speaking of challenges,” he added, sitting on the bed and putting his arm around her shoulders, “are you sure you can handle the kids on your own? I could skip practice today and stay home instead.” 

Even exhausted as she was, Lizzie’s eyebrows shot up at his suggestion. “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

“It doesn’t feel right, stretching my wings when you are confined to the ground,” Orion replied, his expression earnest. “And today of all days, too.”

“It’s only my birthday, Orion,” Lizzie sighed. “How do you always say? Just another turn around the sun. Please don’t make a fuss about me.”

Orion smiled, raising her chin with his hand to give her a lingering kiss. “But I enjoy making a fuss about you, Chaser.”

Lizzie laughed as he nudged her nose with his. “And I enjoy the thought of you showing the Wanderers who’s boss on the weekend. The mere idea of the Magpies losing to Skye bloody Parkin because you stayed home with me would be enough to ruin my birthday.”

“And we can’t have that,” Orion said, moving in for another kiss. “We can’t have that at all.” 

It took Lizzie’s and Orion’s joint efforts to get their children out of their cribs, washed and dressed by the time the sun had risen, but the scenery in the kitchen was far from being peaceful. Dylan was grumpily poking his pancakes after being first gently, and then very firmly told that no, he couldn’t use the dog as his mount to ride through the living room, while Reva was busy drawing porridge pictures on the table of her high chair. Lizzie had just enough time to wrestle the spoon from her as she wound up to extend her artistry to the walls, resulting in big, tear-filled eyes and an ear-piercing scream. 

“You can still change your mind about practice,” Orion said sympathetically, his hand shooting forward to catch the bowl Reva had thrown after Dylan.

“No, I can’t,” Lizzie sighed, vanishing stray splatters of porridge from Reva’s hair. “They’ll scrap you from the roster if you don’t show up. It would be unfair towards the team to keep you here.” 

“You’re my team,” Orion said earnestly, drawing a small smile from Lizzie. 

“I know, but our other team needs you more than we do today.”

Orion glanced at their children, who were in the process of finding out whether or not they could kick each other from their high chairs. When Dylan grazed Reva with his foot, she threw her cup on the floor in protest. Both toddlers watched the chocolate milk spill across the tiles, then each other, and promptly began to cry. 

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well, I am,” Lizzie forced herself to smile, ushering away her cat Mouse and Orion’s dog Lyra before they could make short work of the mess. “You’ll see, we’ll be perfectly fine.” 

A few hours later, Lizzie had to finally admit that they were anything but perfectly fine. As soon as Dylan had realised that Daddy hadn’t just gone outside for a few minutes, he had begun sobbing from the bottom of his heart. Out of sympathy for her distressed brother, Reva had stopped gnawing on the back of her chair and started crying as well. After several failed attempts at soothing them, Lizzie had handed them a chocolate biscuit each and sent them on their way to cause chaos elsewhere.

It took her about ten minutes to regret her decision. An angry hiss could be heard from where Dylan had wandered off to, followed by a wailed complaint about “evil cat no wanna play.”

While trying to explain the concept of pets and boundaries to him, Lizzie had lost sight of Reva, who had found a worthwhile occupation. After adorning the windows with the contents of a stray tin of broom wax, she had begun decorating the walls with dog food, a trail of which now ran the length of the room at the level of Lizzie’s knees. 

When Dylan saw what his sister had done, he yanked the dog food from Reva’s hand, to which she responded with a scream that made Lizzie’s ears ring. Before she could interfere, a fistful of wet food landed first in Dylan’s and then Lizzie’s face. 

After separating the two squabbling toddlers and sending Dylan into the kitchen, Lizzie compelled Reva to help her clean the walls. They were about halfway done when the worst thing a parent could hear from their child in another room alerted Lizzie’s attention - complete and utter silence.

A lump of worry forming in her chest, Lizzie hurried into the kitchen with Reva waddling after her. Upon seeing Dylan amidst an assortment of spice cans, his curly black head dusted with an orange layer of what Lizzie could only assume to be curry powder, it took her a moment to determine whether she should scream, laugh, or burst into tears.

Before she had reached a conclusion, the sound of the cat flap drew her attention. Mouse had strutted into the kitchen with a tousled black bundle hanging from her mouth - a dead bird, Lizzie realised with a jolt of sorrow. 

Not in the mood to have a conversation about the circle of life, Lizzie moved in to take the bird off the cat, but Lyra was quicker. The black-and-white dog bounded towards Mouse, who raised her hackles and dropped the bird, which turned out not to be dead after all. Lizzie shrieked and ducked out of the way as it shot past her head and circled around the kitchen under the gleeful cheers of the children, Lyra yapping, and the clambering of plates as Mouse attempted to recapture her fugitive snack. 

“Merlin’s Godforsaken lousy beard! Immobulus!” Lizzie shouted and pointed her wand first at her cat, the bird, and then the barking dog for good measure. She climbed onto the kitchen counter, snatched the floating bird from the air and cradled it to her chest.

“Out, all of you!” she barked at children and animals alike after having relieved the spell. Lyra scurried away, followed by Mouse, who made a point of cleaning her paws before she left with her head and tail held high.

“I said, all of you!” Lizzie snapped at her staring children. Reva’s face scrunched up as her eyes filled with tears, but Dylan gently tugged at her sleeve and led her from the kitchen.

Once they were gone, Lizzie exhaled slowly and stepped outside, where she sat on the steps leading into their gently sloping garden. As gently as she could, she examined the still frozen bird for any sign of injury. To her relief, it seemed to be ruffled but otherwise unharmed. When she relieved the spell, it immediately began wiggingling against her hold, so Lizzie opened her hands and the tiny bird fluttered away. 

She watched after it until it was reduced to a small speck in the grey sky. She imagined how that little bird must be feeling; how exhilarating it must be to have the wind rushing through its feathers when it had thought that it would never spread its wings again. 

Suddenly, she had to think about Orion. He was probably in the middle of his last training session before lunch, racing across the pitch with the wind catching in his hair and the air so cold that it made his blood feel like it was on fire. 

She lingered on the thought, acutely aware of the pull of gravity keeping her on the frozen ground. All of a sudden, she felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore, as if the November wind was taking all oxygen away before it could reach her lungs. Lizzie hadn’t gotten the chance to change out of her pyjamas yet, so she wrapped her dressing gown around herself, squeezing her eyes shut to keep her tears from falling.

“Mummy?” 

She startled at the small voice sounding from behind her. Quickly wiping at her eyes, Lizzie turned to find Dylan and Reva standing in the doorway.

“Mummy fine?” Dylan wanted to know. He pointed at his bare feet and said, “Dylan no out.”

“Yes, I know, honey,” Lizzie smiled, sniffing slightly. “It’s too cold to go outside without your shoes.”

“Mummy wanna hug?”

At that, Lizzie couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “Yes, Mummy would very much like a hug.”

“Then Mummy in,” Dylan decided. Behind him, Reva nodded enthusiastically.

“Mummy in!”

“Alright,” Lizzie said, laughing as both Dylan and Reva tackled her and wrapped their little arms around her as high as they could reach. “Let’s go and clean up Dylan’s spice pile, okay?”

“That a mountain, Mum.” 

“Of course it is.” 

They spent the rest of the day in as much peace as a cat, a dog, and two toddlers faced with a rainy winter day would allow. Lizzie knew a full day of Quidditch was exhausting, but she still breathed a little more lightly when she heard the sound of someone Apparting from their front door. 

A moment later, both her children stormed past her, greeting their smiling father, who went down to his knees to catch his kids in one arm each. Their excited voices turned into screeches of enthusiasm when they discovered who had come in behind Orion.

“Uncle Charlie!”

Lizzie was indeed surprised to see the ginger head and heavily freckled face of Charlie Weasley appear in the doorframe. He was holding a box with one hand and hoisting up a giggling Dylan with the other, while Reva clung to his leg. Lizzie waited until he had freed himself of her children before she could go and hug him as well.

“Last time I looked, there were no dragons in our backyard,” she laughed, even more so as Charlie playfully tugged on her ponytail. 

“Does it take a dragon to visit an old friend?” He raised the box he’d brought and handed it over with a smile. “Happy Birthday, Snidget.”

“What’s that?”

“Something I thought you’d appreciate.”

A wide smile spread on Lizzie’s face as she raised the lid to reveal the delicious sight and smell of a Bakewell Tart. She cocked an eyebrow at Charlie.

“Did you make this?”

“If it’s edible you mean? You have to find that out for yourself, I’m afraid. I’m just here to drop it off.”

“You’re not staying?”

“I can’t,” Charlie said and lowered his voice. “I have a date.”

“What? Who with?”

Charlie winked at her. “Two perfect little storms and the ice cream parlour.” 

Lizzie’s eyes flicked between Charlie and her beaming children. She shook her head. 

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“It’s almost time for dinner, and they’re too much for one person to handle.”

“Come on, Puffskein,” Charlie laughed. “I’m a seasoned uncle who deals with dragons for a living. Do you really think I can’t take on two toddlers?” 

“Actually, that’s exactly what I think.” 

“Even little fledglings have to leave the nest and see the world every now and again. And the same goes for their mother,” Orion said and laid a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder.

“What he said,” Charlie agreed. “It’s your birthday, and no offence, you look like you need a break. What could possibly go wrong?”

Lizzie could think about a million things but before she had the chance to voice them, Charlie had already ushered Dylan and Reva, both of whom Orion had dressed already, out the door. The silence after they had left was strange to her ears.

“So, what would you like to do?” Orion wanted to know, snapping Lizzie out of her daze.

“I don’t know,” she answered with a frown. “What do you do on a day off?”

Orion laughed softly. “Whatever you want.”   

Lizzie tried to think of what she would like to do first, but suddenly found that she couldn’t; the concept of having an evening all to herself seemed utterly alien to her. When she told Orion so, he nodded and checked the time.

“How about we head to the pub, mix in with the Muggles and watch some football? The rescheduled Liverpool match should be on in a bit.”

Lizzie looked at him in astonishment. “You know about the rearranged fixture?” 

“If your club plays on your birthday, do you really think I wouldn’t know?” He gave her a small kiss. “Let me get your present ready, and then we can go.”

When Orion returned to the living room a few minutes later, he took in the scenery before him with a smile. Lizzie was fast asleep on the sofa, Mouse nestled against the curve of her belly. The cat raised her head and blinked sleepily as Orion sat down next to them. He was tempted to run his hand over Lizzie’s hair but didn’t want to wake her either. Instead, he summoned the book he had been trying to read for about a year now, but before he had even finished even the page, the exhaustion of the last few days made his eyelids grow heavy. 

A chuckle escaped him as something gently prodded his chest. It wiggled itself upward until the tiny head of the kitten Orion had carried hidden in his jumper peeked out from her hiding place. He had been told that she was no older than eight weeks, her small, scrawny body covered in shaggy, three-coloured fur. She looked around the living room, the expression in her one remaining eye part apprehensive, part curious.  

He held his index finger out for the kitten to sniff, smiling as she licked his fingertip once. Orion had found the tiny animal abandoned and screaming near the training grounds this morning. Thanks to proper medication, food, and a little bit of magic, the kitten had looked completely changed when Orion had come to check on her after practice. When he had learned that the poor thing probably didn’t have a home, he had offered to take her; if the universe had ever sent him a sign, it was a stray kitten in need of help on Lizzie’s birthday. 

“We’ll have to wait a bit longer to make you two acquainted,” he softly told the kitten, nodding at the sleeping woman next to him. “She deserves some rest, don’t you think?”

The kitten purred in what Orion took as agreement. Mouse was watching the newcomer with wary eyes, but when Orion looked over to her, she laid her bushy tail over her face, pretending none of them was existing in the first place. 

Shaking his head, he scratched the dog, who had jumped onto the sofa to inspect the kitten, behind her ears. Deciding that she was satisfied as long as there were head rubs, Lyra rested her chin on Orion’s thigh and closed her eyes. 

Feeling the tension of the day leaving him, Orion let his eyes wander over Lizzie, the dog and the two cats, and the colourful chaos of his home. Before sleep could carry him away, he thought about how excited he was to see Lizzie’s reaction to the kitten later. 

It wasn’t the most spectacular gift, but that had never been an issue with either of them. It didn’t take grand gestures to be happy, after all.

Sometimes, it was the little things that changed a world.