AN: Since I've mostly been working an my WriMo story I haven't been able to write more than two sentences for the next chapter. I did, however, stumble across this little fic while wandering around by files. It begged me to post it here and wouldn't leave me be until I did. So here, for your reading please (at least I hope it's found enjoyable) is a six year old Theo and her parents. As well as a 'maybe magic maybe mundane' bear named Wallaby.

And now for a disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter Universe. If anyone was under the impression I did I'd be flattered you think I write as well as Jk Rowling.


The child ran through the grass under the watchful eye of her mother. She was completely absorbed in the world she was playing in, laughing and rolling and running in the spring sun. The little girl's father sat down on the porch next to his wife. She didn't look up at him, her eyes were still fixed on their daughter.

"We should leave her out of the experiments for now," she said, still looking after the five year old. "She's so young, if something were to happen..." She bit her lip, not wanting to think about what could go wrong. Her husband lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Then we won't use her. This magic is nothing to play around with. Besides," He added, smiling as the child chased after a butterfly. "We can get along just fine until she's ready to take on our studies."

"Do you think she'll want to. So many people thought our work was abhorrent. They still would if they knew we were continuing our research."

"We'll tell her when she's ready. It's her choice. But that day is ages away Sarah. Theo's still five, almost six."

Sarah nodded, resting a hand on her husband's.

"I just wish that our work had been appreciated. We could've done so much if we were given a chance." Her voice was tinged with bitterness but her expression was merely pensive. Her husband sighed.

"So do I, but we can't change the past. Soon we'll be able to present our theories to the Ministry and find a way to honor all those people who helped us."

Sarah smiled sadly.

"Soon," she repeated. "I hope it is soon, Daniel."

Their daughter, Theo, ran up to them then. She had a tiny frog cupped in her hands and a playful smile tugged at her lips.

"Look!" she crowed happily, showing off her prize. Her parents laughed. Theo's mother pulled her into a tight hug and her father ruffled her hair. In all the commotion the frog escaped, leaping towards the wet grass with an air of relief. Theo frowned after it accusingly, crossing her arms over her thin chest.

"Was he hard to catch?" her mother asked as they walked towards the door.

"Yes he was," the five year old said unhappily. "Now I won't have anything to feed to Wallaby."

"Your stuffed bear?" her father asked. Theo nodded.

"I don't know anyone else named Wallaby," she said skipping down the hall in front of her parents, her bad mood forgotten entirely.

"Of course not dear. There will only ever be one Wallaby," her mother said. Theo smiled, stopping on the top step and looking down at her parents.

"May I have some bread? Wallaby's still hungry."

"Maybe you should bring him down to tea. I'm sure he would like that," her father suggested. Theo thought for a moment then nodded solemnly.

"Okay, I'll go and ask him. Don't forget his cup, he won't want to eat if he doesn't get tea as well," she told them. They smiled.

"Of course dear. We wouldn't dream of forgetting Wallaby's tea," her mother said. Theo lingered for a moment, making sure her parents were doing everything correctly. Then she hurried up to her room to fetch her bear. Wallaby was sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for food.

"No frogs today Wallaby. He escaped and it's time for tea anyways. Mum and Dad have invited you to it, if you want to come," she told him as she rummaged through her toy box. She pulled out a large hat with a paper sunflower on it and nodded appreciatively before jamming the hat onto her head.

"You are coming aren't you?"

The bear fell off the bed in response. Theo smiled and grabbed the bear's arm.

"Good, I'd hoped you might. It must get frightfully lonely up here without any other toys to play with. It is your own fault though; if you hadn't eaten all of them they'd still be here."

Theo walked formally down the stairs, summoning all the grace her five year old form was capable of holding. Her parents had already laid the table, leaving an extra spot for Wallaby. Theo set him down in his chair and poured him a cup of tea.

"Would he like a biscuit as well?" her mother asked, offering the biscuit plate.

"Just two for him please," Theo said, sitting down in her chair and taking three biscuits for herself. Theo fussed with Wallaby's teacup and plate while her parents talked. She wasn't really listening to what they were saying. Sometimes they talked about magic and experiments when they thought she wasn't paying attention. Now they were talking about school, whatever that was. They'd told Theo that she'd need to go to school soon but they couldn't seem to decided on which one to send her to.

"Would you like more tea Wallaby?" Theo asked, sipping from her cup. The sunlight filtering in through the window made it look as if Wallaby shook his head. Theo sighed, putting her elbows on the table. "I wonder what school will be like Wallaby. I haven't ever seen one. Well, maybe once, but I didn't know it was a school so I can't remember much about it," she said quietly.

Theo looked up at her parents but they were engaged in their own conversation. They weren't talking about school anymore so Theo assumed they were talking about something that grown-ups need to talk about. She liked watching her parents talk like that, even though she was left out of it. Sometimes, like now, they would be so engaged that they forgot about the world entirely. They would touch hands, like they were trying to communicate too much to be put into words. Theo smiled as she watched them, whispering to Wallaby sometimes, wondering if everyone's parents were like that.

"I think that they should be, even if they aren't," she said. "After all, why shouldn't they. Mum and Dad seem so happy."

Wallaby gazed down at his teacup, his button eyes sparkling in the sun and the world was content for a time.


An: I really don't think a five year old would ever have thoughts like that but since this is a work of fiction I suppose my children can be as pensive as they want. I also know little to nothing about how people in Britain actually have afternoon tea so if there are any glaring inaccuracies you can chalk it up to my unfortunate lack of knowledge about Britain in general. Aaand that's the end of that.