OK, then. Appearance set, aura patterns disguise set, charm-proofing and such set too...
The child's fake ID was all ready too, everything totally filed in the right places. Ahh, Bureaucracy. Xelloss loved humans sometimes, he really did...
And now - let the Game begin!
"This is... This is ridiculous. Arthur. We... we have seven children already, Mr Deerhart!"
The supposed USA Ministry official hummed, non-committedly.
"Despite and still, Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley... all the information we have on are files and the Bloodline Charms all show that you two are the nearest Magical relatives to this child..."
The official peered at the papers he had in his hand over his glasses, and then looked at the red-haired, freckled baby, tethered to his arm and looking very displeased. Not to mention floating in the air.
And this child is quite obviously Magical, as you can see for yourself. In case of Magical orphans, we do try to place them with Magical families as much as possible of course, you do agree that would be the best thing..."
"Well yes of course, but - " Arthur muttered.
'Mr Deerhart' simply carried on.
"James Alcott Weasley, only child of Mordred Linka Weasley and Lorretta Alice Weasley, maiden name Alcott, both deceased in a 'traffic accident' - the boy's father was trying to drive while drunk, apprently. This is as dangerous when driving a muggle 'car' as when trying to steer a broom, as you may know - even more so, actually. The man seemed to have made a habit of this, from the muggle police records - not good, that. You'd think people would be more careful with a small child along..."
Molly twitched. Why didn't his wife stop him if he was drunk? Was she drunk as well? Bloody irresponsible moronic...
"Oh, and they were both Pureblood squibs, which does make the child technically a Pureblood by the most commonly used definition nowadays, if I recall correctly."
Molly gritted her teeth. 'The most commonly used definition nowadays'- by the Ministry, mostly - was a bit on the rather too 'loose' and 'liberal' side even for her, defining any child born between a fully Magical parents as 'Pureblood' with no more restrictions, among other things. The thought of the offspring of two Mud - uh, no, bad word - Muggleborns being considered a Pureblood just like that didn't really sit all that well with her, though she wouldn't talk about such things usually, of course.
And it wasn't like she was some kind of Pureblood Supremacist, either - Why, by the definitions most used by those idiots, even she would be considered some kind of Halfblood or 'Mixblood". Just because of that one Muggle - or - Squib Great-grandmother!
"Oh, and Alcott actually seems to be the childs middle name, by the way - sometimes muggles have odd ways of naming their children, and they'd both mostly grown up as muggles as far as we can tell. The parents were both orphans, and the only other relative we could locate at all was a muggle grand-aunt by marriage of some kind who's in a nursing home in Florida - "
Molly and Arthur looked at each other, and groaned. There just wasn't going to be any getting out of this, was it?
"Alright, then." Arthur murmured. Molly nodded, too.
"We'll take the boy, alright?"
'Mr Deerhart's grin was quite frankly blinding.
Molly slumped down on 'her' chair at her kitchen, sighing.
"Ma? Wha' wrong?" Rom pulled at her skirts. Fred, George and Percy for some reason was peering at both her, and the sleeping baby on the kitchen table.
"Why is there another baby here?"
Little Ginny started to cry. Molly thought like following her example, frankly.
"Where are we going to put him, anyway?" Arthur muttered.
"No more 'bigger on the inside' spells, Arthur - we have too many of those on this house of as it is. One of those days the entire burrows are going to end up Splinched or something, I just bet you."
"Alright, but we do have to put him someplace..."
Molly and Arthur looked at the baby, and then at the stairs, and sighed. There was just not enough room, with the children growing up and all.
And then Molly looked back at the stairs. Arthur craned his neck back, wondering at what she was looking at.
The cupboard. Under the stairs.
"Well, alright..." Arthur groaned. "He'll fit, I suppose..."
"And it's not like we have, you know..." Molly shrugged. Cupboards under stairways were the kinds of places that House-elves traditionally made their beds, but it wasn't as if they had any of those. At all.
"Alright. I'll clean it up, then..." Molly took out her wand.
And someplace not so far away at all, a purple-haired being was laughing and laughing...
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(Posted Wed, 06 Sep 2006 06:33)
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