Leave Out All The Rest

The Breakfast Before

Chapter 20: The Breakfast Before

POV: Albus

Here's the thing about my family: We are composed of several other bloodlines, all tying back together to form the Weasley/Potter clan. As a result of those many relatives and inherited traits, everything we do is thrived on competition.

Example A: Freddie and Louis currently fighting for a bowl of cereal (like there are not overflowing and ready for their disposal, but no, it has to be that specific bowl).  

Example B: There are currently eight Gryffindors (James, Freddie, Louis, Dominique, Rose, Lily, Roxy, and Lucy), one Ravenclaw (Hugo), one Hufflepuff (Artie), and one Slytherin (me) attending Hogwarts. Naturally, there is a constant battle of House pride surging between us at all times. Bets start at the beginning of the year, and it is survival of the best House throughout those terms. Whoever wins House Cup, Quidditch House Cup, and who gets the most O's in the school year determines the ruler of the rest of us for summer holidays.

Example C: To this day and age, Mum and Uncle Ron continue to argue about who Dad cares for the most. Though the answer is obvious—even if Mum is a tornado—she and Uncle Ron tally points of how often Dad sides with them and then they proceed to hold it over each other until a new wage starts. 

"Get your hands off my food, you nymph!" Freddie shouted, yanking the fork that was about to enter Lucy's mouth, using it to try and stab Louis with it (with the sausage still in the picks, mind you). 

"Oi!" Lucy hissed, standing, reaching over the table to try and take back her fork. "Give that back, Frederick!" 

"Shove—" Freddie continued to struggle with Louis, "off, Lucille!"

Lucy grabbed the toast off my plate, throwing it at our wrestling cousins. "Are you two incapable of acting your age?"

"Yes!" yelled Freddie and Louis in unison.

Sighing, I pushed my plate away.

Sometimes I wonder how calm the lives of others without two grandparents, five uncles, five aunts, fourteen cousins, three siblings, two parents, and five best friends (that somehow ended up bonded in like they were blood) must be. 

"That good-for-nothing, hag, evil incarnated," With a bang of her school books being slammed on the table, Rose narrowed brown eyes at nothing in particular, muttering under her breath, cheeks turning red, "dimwitted, princess want-to-be, fake blonde, annoying bitch—"

"Rose," Lucy scolded, looking exactly like Uncle Percy would if he had heard such language, "what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Rose asked, aghast. "Now I'm the problem?"

With a mouth full of cereal (cereal he'd clearly won from Louis seeing as he was now sporting a black eye), Freddie raised a brow. "What the hell are you on about now?"

Rose let out a cry, banging a fist on the table.

Lucy, Freddie, Louis, and I looked at one another, confused to the breakdown we were currently witnessing from Rose. This was like seeing the unimaginable. Rose pride herself in I'm-holier-and-more-mature-than-thou attitude. Now it was gone.

"Are you throwing a tantrum, Rosie?" Louis asked with a tone of incredulity we were all sharing. 

Rose took my empty goblet and threw it at him. "I am not throwing a tantrum! I just hate—no, abhor Belinda Rookwood!"