Author: terfle PM
Constance Hardbroom keeps her family affairs to herself. But when her parents turn up for an evening, it's hard to hideRated: Fiction K - English - Parody/Humor - & C. Hardbroom - Chapters: 6 - Words: 5,672 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 09-01-12 - Published: 08-16-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8434745
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
'Well it's not exactly a normal childhood' Imogen argued, after HB and her parents had gone upstairs. 'It's not the turning into things and wands and all of that I'm referring to. It's the family dynamic. First she gets all stroppy and teenager when her mother brings her biscuits and the next minute she has to order them to clean up after a wand fight. Who's the child in this family?'
'That is a bit odd' Amelia admitted. 'But it does explain her authoritarian approach. And every so often she does get into a bit of a huff about things. I thought it was a repressed childhood. I'm not sure of what to make of it.'
Imogen hoped HB wouldn't materialize out of thin air at that point as she often did. She didn't know what would happen if she overheard them talking. There was always a chance she'd appear in the most unconventional way.
'I think her parents are quite charming' piped up Miss Bat, overhearing them. 'If a bit odd at times.' She licked the back of her spoon thoughtfully. 'If I had parents like that I would turn out to be a little strange as well.' She picked a petal off the nearest flower and ate it with a piece of kiwi. The others looked at each other and resolved to say nothing.
Meanwhile upstairs, Minerva McGonagall was fussing over her daughter as a mother should.
'Perhaps you should wear a bit more colour, Constance.'
Constance pointedly looked towards her purple pyjamas.
'I meant, during the day.'
Once again she pointed to her best dress, dark purple silk. Looking through the scant options, she pulled out a dress with dark red edging. 'See? Not all black.'
'Nothing wrong with black' observed Snape, reclining on the bed, shoes carefully not touching the bedcovers. Floating actually.
McGonagall rolled her eyes.
'Don't listen to your father. He doesn't know colour if it hit him in the face.'
Constance stifled a laugh. 'I don't think tartan is my kind of thing.'
'Tartan should be worn with care' said Snape, observing the troupe of bats near the window. 'Your mother is one of few people who can carry it off.'
The pillow flew up and wacked him gently in the face. McGonagall was smiling now.
'Enough of that, Severus.'
'I was merely commenting.' He put the pillow back in its place and continued floating. Although their relationship had waned over the years, their respect for each other had not.
Morgana woke up and stretched. She attracted McGonagall's attention straight away and she spent the next five minutes making a fuss of her. Morgana loved it. She purred and wound her way around, accepting the cosseted embrace. Constance sat down on the bed opposite her father.
'Do you think I'm making a mistake, staying here?'
'I don't doubt your prospects would be just as good elsewhere. But you must decide if it is worth the risk. We stayed in our comfort zone. It's all we have, all we've ever known. We didn't want to compromise that. You worked your way to the top and now not just the best teacher in the area, but the deputy headmistress also. Just like your mother. If you are content to be here, we won't think any less of you.'
Her doubt showed on her face. He sensed what it was about.
'That Mistress Broomhead taught you well in your studies but didn't pay much attention to other things. Your work here is no less than what you would achieve elsewhere. Either way, you are doing your job. Educating one person is better than none at all. It doesn't matter where you teach as long as you are changing lives.'
'Correct' butted in McGonagall, Morgana now wrapped around her neck. 'Don't let anyone make you think otherwise.'
'I thought you wanted me to go and teach in a place like Hogwarts' stated Constance testily.
'We only suggested it. With your aptitude, you can teach anywhere you like. But it's entirely up to you. Perhaps you are happier in a more secluded environment after all.' McGonagall paused, thinking of her daughter's OCD. 'But don't you listen to that Heckkity Broomhead. Your time with her is done and you must be your own person.'
Constance felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. In the nick of time, her parents had restored her confidence.
'We only want the best for you' her mother assured her. She then took out a package from under her cloak. 'Now how about something nice and new? You need to update that wardrobe of yours.'