#they are neurodivergent in that way you silently suspect your parents would be since way too many of your own quirks match up with theirs

[repurposedmeatlocker]

All four guys in King of the Hill are neurodivergent. Yes even Hank. ESPECIALLY Hank.

[bigskydreaming]

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice.��“Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily. 

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

[divagonzo]

The Incident - Romione +

Ao3

A/N: Thanks to @vivithefolle​ for getting through my enormous writer’s block to inspire me to write this story. It’s angst filled Hurt/Comfort/Family with many triggering aspects for those who are ND. I apologize for it but the story wouldn’t leave me alone.

Given the nature of the subject matter, I’m personally rating this M rated - and because of the troubling aspects of the story, especially for those who would be triggered by what the story entails.

CW: child bullying, child injury, being bullied for being neurodivergent

Give me my demarcation line, damn it!

The Incident

Once more, with Feeling

Hermione took her reading glasses off of her nose and rubbed her eyes. She was absolutely at her wit’s end with the bloody bureaucracy of the Wizengamot and why they refuse to do things her way when it’s the best for everyone involved. But No, that sod Purifoy has to put in his Galleon and derail everything and cause a ruckus in the chambers.

“Mrs. Granger?” Hermione’s executive assistant Miranda Blunt stuck her head in the office. “Mrs. Potter is calling, says it’s an emergency.”

“Put her through,” Hermione got up from her vast oaken desk and went to the fireplace. The flames in there turned green from the warming orange from the chilly August morning.

“Hermione,” Ginny’s voice came through crystal clear. “We need you at St. Mungo’s immediately.”

Her heart lurched to a sudden stop. “What’s happened? Ron?” Hermione rose from the fireplace and went to collect her purse from the secure drawer in her desk. “If it involves Harry he’s going to catch an earful.” She pulled the compact mirror from her pocket and opened it, waiting the seconds for her assistant to open hers. “I’m going to St. Mungo’s. I’ll check back in as soon as I can.”

“Understood.” Miranda broke the connection. 

“What’s happened?” Hermione reached for the urn on the mantle. 

“It’s Hugo,” Ginny didn’t elaborate. “We need you immediately.”

Hermione froze. Her baby. Well, not a real baby anymore, not after the growth spurt he had this summer and seemed to stretch out by inches, taking after Ron, but still such a sweet boy. She enjoyed snuggling him when he would allow it, but he couldn’t fall asleep unless Ron was holding him in his arms, holding onto him awkwardly until his soft snores told everyone that he could be gently placed in his own bed.

She shook herself from her stupor and reached into the urn for the Floo powder and threw it in, stepping through the few blocks to the Auror waiting area. She saw Ginny sitting there with Rose, James, Al, and Lily Luna. Harry was nowhere to be found. Rose had her hand wrapped up, like she’d broken it and James was sitting on the other side of the room, two black eyes and a blood crusted nose that looked like it hadn’t been treated yet. 

“Where – 

“The nurse will see you back,” Ginny said stoically.

Hermione ran from the room to the admission desk and saw the Nurse. Hermione knew her well enough by face and first name but wasn’t much beyond that. “I was told my son was admitted. Hugo Weasley-Granger.”

“Yes, you’re needed.” The nurse left the window and met Hermione at the doors, walking briskly into the various hallways that hadn’t changed much in the last 20 years. “Mrs. Potter brought your son in about twenty minutes ago and we said we needed you immediately. He’s been hurt but there’s something else going on, something we don’t quite understand, and you might be able to shed some light on the situation.”

Hermione went into the area and saw her son sitting in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth with his arms wrapped around his knees. There was some crusted blood on his neck, below his ear, and a huge bruise on the side of his face. 

“He won’t let us near him, Mrs. Weasley,” a medi-witch spoke up first. “Any time any of us even gets within a meter of him, he screams.”

“I am going to sit on the ground. Every time I finish a sentence, move me six inches closer. His therapist has things in place to help him when he gets like this.” Hermione dropped her purse and put her wand down. She knew about these behaviors and she’d read up on how to help him cope as well. 

“Hugo, Mummy is here.” Her voice was so flat to her own ears it frightened her – but she knew from Audrey that it would be soothing for her son. “You’re safe. No one else is going to hurt you,” She felt magic surround her, ever so slowly shifting her forward towards her son. “Aunt Ginny told me you needed me. I came straight away.”

She repeated the mantra until she was sitting right in front of her son. While he looked somewhat like Ron, being gangly and with auburn hair with ginger strands and streaks through it, it had her texture, along with freckles across his nose and on his neck. But he took after her in personality, temperament, and how he saw the world, but only more intensely. She understood him, when he would be quiet for hours at a time, or completely engrossed in something that interested him.

She suspected he was much like her by the time he was a year old, with some behaviors she had been watching to see if they manifested. As soon as they started, she took him to a Muggle doctor who recommended her to a specialist who made a tentative diagnosis. He had a cadre of therapists to help him with his speech and role playing so he wouldn’t have a meltdown for any change in his daily schedule.

She knew. She didn’t need it to be tentative, from how much he’d get overwhelmed at Sunday lunches at the Burrow to not liking being hugged or easily frustrated to even the texture of his clothing, which she understood far too well.  Yes, he was much like her so seeing him like this was painful. But while her parents struggled for so long, she fought like hell so he wouldn’t struggle as much as she did growing up.

“Hugo, I am right here. I’m not going anywhere. No one is going to hurt you.  When you are ready, you can crawl into my lap. Take the time you need.”

Ever so slowly, in what felt like hours was probably seconds, Hugo slowly ceased rocking before crawling into her lap, right before he started rocking hard yet again.

He settled in and she took a deep breath, knowing that the first giant hurdle had been passed. 

“Love, the medi-witch is going to use magic to put us up on the bed. Close your eyes and bury your face in my chest. They won’t be using magic on you, only me.” He did as instructed, burying his head into the flannel of her jumper. She looked at the Medi-witch.  She watched the non-verbal incantation wand movement and braced slightly. Magic enveloped her again, levitating her from the very cold tile floor up onto the gurney. 

“Sweetie, will you hold my hand? I don’t want you to talk but I do need you to communicate with me and I know this way is much easier for you right now.” She opened her hand and waited for him to put his in hers, squeezing it hard. 

“That’s terrific, love. Now you don’t have to talk at all the rest of the time we’re here, only answer my questions by squeezing my hand.” Hermione stared over his head at the Medi-witch and watched her procure parchment and self-dictating quill. She nodded once for Hermione to start.

“Did Rosie hurt you?” One squeeze. “Rosie didn’t hurt you. That’s good. I’m happy to hear that.”

“Did Lils hurt you?” One squeeze. “Al?” One squeeze. “So Jamie hurt you?” Two squeezes.

“Could you tell Aunt Ginny what happened?” One squeeze. “You hurt too much, doesn’t it?” Two squeezes. “I thought so. Are you still hurting?” Two squeezes. “And you don’t want to tattle on Jamie?” One squeeze.

“Was Jamie playing Quidditch?” Two squeezes. “Was he chasing a snitch?” One squeeze. “Throwing a Quaffle?” Two squeezes. “The bludger?” two squeezes.

“Were you on your toy broom outside, playing?” Two squeezes. “Was Aunt Ginny watching you?” One squeeze. “Jamie convinced you to go play outside with him and Rose?” Two squeezes. “And then you got hurt and saw Aunt Ginny?” Two squeezes.

“Jamie convinced you to come outside and ride your broom without an adult.” She sighed. “Jamie means well sometimes but he doesn’t quite fathom why the rules are in place for Hugo.” She turned back to her son. “I’m not mad at you, sweetie. You love your older cousin and want to be able to play with him and Rosie and you hate being left out.” Two squeezes. “Yes, I figured as such.”

Hermione looked at the other medi-witch. “Have you asked Mrs. Potter what happened?”

“She said that she found two bludgers flying around their pitch and Hugo on the ground crying.”

“Did Jamie hit the bludgers at you?” Hugo started rocking. “More than once?” The rocking grew frantic and she felt her shirt getting damp.

The door crashed open, and Ron stood in the doorway, seeing his wife and child on the gurney. Hermione slightly shook her head before seeing his ears turning red. Right now she couldn’t cope with Ron and Hugo so Ron would have to deal with it, for now at least. 

He closed the door softly while Hermione rocked Hugo in her lap, letting her son have his silent meltdown without him noticing everyone in the room watching him. People watching him meltdown always made it worse. 

The Healer pulled his wand and handed it to the medi-witch, showing Hermione without his wand that he wanted to charm Hugo to sleep so they could tend him. She nodded and watched the healer gently apply the charm to her son and felt him drift off to sleep, like he’d fallen asleep in her arms which he hadn’t done since he was a toddler. He always preferred his Daddy once he could make his wishes known. She wouldn’t complain, even if her heart had been beating out of her chest entirely too hard for her continued good health.

She stood and gently placed her son on the gurney, feeling a sob try to erupt. She stifled it, knowing she’d pay for it later on but Hugo came first.

“Now that he’s asleep, we can check him. We did not want to do that without a parent’s presence and their permission. But his behavior was so queer that – “

Hermione turned and if she’d had her wand in her hand, she couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t have hexed the healer tending her son. “His behaviour is not queer,” Hermione growled. “My son is Autistic. He’s been diagnosed by Muggle doctors and has Healer Reeves as his Magical counselor. He takes after me that way and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to my son that way.”

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley,” he retorted instantly. “He got upset and we didn’t know how to help him once Mrs. Potter had left the room.”

“Now you know,” she snorted, “and now you can tell me what happened.”

Hermione stepped back to the side of the room and watched the Healers and multiple medi-witches work on her son, using magical diagnostic charms and spells to work. They worked efficiently, silently, with a medi-witch dictating the medical records.

Seconds passed that felt like days, with the Healers finally turning back to Hermione, seeing her. “He will be OK. From what Mrs. Potter told us, along with our tests, he has a concussion from getting hit with a bludger. There is also a huge bruise on his back from what looks like another bludger impact. I’d almost say that someone was hitting them at your son, but I don’t like to make assumptions. Bruise paste will fix the back but for the head, he will need time at home, with little in the way of lights and noise. It’s not severe, not like Quidditch players get from time to time, but he will require some time to rest and recover.”

“There’s nothing you can do for him?”

“These things are tricky when it comes to the brain. Even Muggle Medicine has limitations when it comes to this kind of brain injury. But at his age, he needs rest and quiet and darkness to remove stimulation for him. It would probably benefit him in the long run, too, given what you’ve said.”

She sighed, trying to take a deep breath that just wouldn’t happen. Her precious son, her sensitive child, was bullied by an older cousin. That was bad enough. That would be dealt with as soon as Hugo was home and asleep in his bed.  But to add a possible traumatic brain injury to it, at his age, was a bit too far. Fortunately, she had ample time accrued to take off and spend it with him, or work from home given everything going on. However, seeing to what happened took priority after tending Hugo.

“When can we take him home, since my husband is probably out in the waiting room?”

“We shall be finished shortly, maybe a few more minutes, and then take him home straightaway. No Floo travel for at least a month. No Portkeys either since it might aggravate any sort of injury. Apparition or Muggle transport only, and then keep it as minimal as possible, for his benefit.”

Hermione understood that all too well. She tended Harry and Ron occasionally after mishaps with the Aurors.  “Please keep him asleep until I return. I need to go speak with my husband.” She collected her purse from near the door and slipped out, knowing that Ron would be mad with grief. Instead, she found him pacing the hallway around the first corner.

“How is he?” He raced up to her when he saw her, embracing her like she desperately needed. She didn’t realize how much tension let go with his hug. “I didn’t want to come back in and upset Hugh. I knew you’d have it under control.”

Hermione explained what happened as well as what caused it. Ron’s face grew even more pale than normal but his ears and neck grew intensely red. 

“I’m upset too but we will handle it later, once we get Hugo home and in bed resting. And it’s not like Ginny probably hasn’t tended to things by now.” She slumped back into her husband’s arms. Who knew that her heart would have two distinct beats from her own, and stress hers when anything happened to either of her kids. She hadn’t realized until now how much her children’s welfare meant to her, especially when it came to the treatment by the family. “We need the healers to check on Rosie. She had a wrap around her wrist when I rushed through the waiting room.”

“You go get Hugo and take him home. I’ll tend to Rosie and we’ll be home straightaway. I also will need to speak with her and find out what happened.”

Hermione took a deep breath, relaxing her back and shoulders. “I’ll see you when you get home, Love.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his lips. The privacy of the hallway would suffice, given the overwhelming adoration she had for her husband. He was her rock, her foundation, rarely getting inside his head too much now, but also giving her subtle direction and taking the mental load on what needed to be done without being boorish like she could be. He never demanded, and never expressed disappointment when she made a different decision but, most of the time, his wisdom was exactly what she needed when she felt lost and drowning in indecision.

She turned and went back to the room to collect her son and take him home.

*****************

“Hermione, we’re home,” Ron bellowed into their residence outside of Cardiff. “And Ginny will be over as soon as the Healers tend Jamie.”

Hermione came out of Hugo’s room, closing the door without shutting it completely. “I have it dark and quiet in his room, and the potion the healers gave him should let him sleep for hours. They said he needed to sleep and rest as much as possible for the next two weeks, minimum. I’ve already spoken to Miranda and set the owls to come here and she will pop over after work to bring today’s docket and tomorrow’s as well.”

“Mum, I’m sorry,” Rosie chimed in. “I saw what happened and instead of running to get Aunt Ginny I got upset and hit Jamie. I know it was wrong but – “

“What happened?” Hermione tried to keep her voice neutral for her older child, who was just like her Dad with her underlying temper. She wasn’t mad at Rosie and she needed to keep her temper in check with her child, who might mistake that Mum was mad at her, and not frustrated with the situation.

Rose looked at her Dad and he nodded before she turned back to her Mum. 

“Everyone went outside to play, with Aunt Ginny watching us. Al and Lils were inside coloring and Hugo came out to fly around. Lils yelled and Aunt Ginny went back inside.” Rose looked at Ron and he nodded, prodding her gently to continue.

“Jamie and I kept playing Quidditch out back, throwing the quaffle while dodging the bludgers flying around while Aunt Ginny was inside making Lunch. It was so much fun, and we were laughing when either of us missed the Quaffle or got bumped by the bludger. I thought Hugo had gone inside with Aunt Ginny since I didn’t see him. Jamie flew down and plucked up a beater’s bat out of the box and said he’d take a swipe at them while flying and I said OK since it’s good practice for me, too.”

“You know how I feel about that,” Hermione said, “especially with Aunt Ginny not keeping a close watch on you while you’re doing it.”

“I know,” Rose replied. “I thought she’d be inside only for a few moments.”

“Ok, go ahead.”

“So the bludgers were flying around and Jamie had his beater’s bat out while also throwing the Quaffle at me from time to time. Anyway, I told Jamie to wait a moment because I wanted something to drink. I heard him laughing and then I heard a thump and saw Hugo on the ground and his broom broken. I didn’t know Hugo had come back outside to fly some more. I looked up and saw one racing for Hugo. I ran towards him but couldn’t stop it from hitting him in the head before bouncing off. I ran back for my broom and raced up to where Jamie was. He looked boggled that another bludger had hit Hugo. I… I flew into him while on my broom before taking his beater’s bat and hitting him with it. 

“Aunt Ginny came outside and saw Hugo on the ground. She dropped the tray of sandwiches and pumpkin juice and ran to him, yelling at us to get down on the ground, that we needed to go to St. Mungo’s.” Rose held her head down. “I know I should have gotten her first, but I was so upset that Jamie did that, and laughing about it.”

“I don’t fault you for being upset but you know better. No quidditch this weekend for you. A small consequence for how you acted instead of going to get Aunt Ginny should be sufficient punishment. Besides, your wrist will be sore for a day or two anyway, I reckon, hitting Jamie with the beater’s bat.”

“Yes, Mum.”

Hermione looked up at her quiet husband. “What are we going to do about Jamie? This isn’t the first time he’s been a toerag towards Hugo.”

The fireplace roared to life and Ginny was inside the flames. “The Healers are finished with Jamie. Can we come through? He needs to know what his punishment is for what he did today.”

Ron and Hermione shared a look, not bothering to look at Rosie. “Come on through,” they said in unison. 

The fireplace roared high inside the hearth and Albus stepped through first, followed by a tidier Jamie, followed by Ginny holding Lily Luna to her chest. His face was still bruised but his nose was fixed and the blood removed from his shirt. Within moments they were all free of dust and so was the den.  “We won’t be staying long. Jamie has a very long list of things he has to do as punishment for what happened today.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I was aiming for Rose. I -“

“Enough, James!,” Ginny’s voice was quiet, dangerous, and one that no one wanted to cross. 

“Did you tell Hugo he could come outside with you?” Ron asked first. 

“Well, yeah, at first. Mum had been outside and it was nice and then mum went inside for a minute and Hugo was having fun on his toy broom while Rosie and I were playing Quidditch.”

“He’s six years old, James.” Hermione’s voice brooked no insolence. “He isn’t to ride his broom without supervision, ever. Did you not understand that?”

“No,” his voice grew quiet. “Mum said it was OK. I didn’t think – “

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t see Al or Lils on their brooms, did you?”

“No,” he said again. “But he had been riding earlier so I thought it was ok.”

Ron stood before James, towering over the lad. He was in his Auror stance, looking like he was ready to fight with his bare hands. “Why did you hit the bludgers at Rosie? I gave your parents that set, as a gift when you turned two.” Ron huffed. “I know that set. Grandpa, Uncle George, and I charmed it so the bludgers wouldn’t be brutal unless you hit the bludger with a bat. The first time you hit that bludger with a bat, it disabled the charm.”

“We’ve done it before. No one got hurt - “

“It’s no excuse, James,” Ginny said. “You know the rules - no beater bats unless an adult is outside with you. It’s one reason why you’re being punished - for being reckless while playing.”

“Didn’t you bother to see that Hugo was in the way?” Ron’s Auror voice had come out. “Do you think it’s funny picking on him? We know this isn’t the first time he’s not tattled on you. He’s six years old. He’s a child compared to you.”

“I wasn’t aiming at him. It was an accident - “

Ron took a step forward. James backed up into his Mum, standing almost as tall as her at 11. “An accident is you falling off your broom. An accident is dropping a glass of pumpkin juice because you weren’t paying attention. No, you chose to swing the beater’s bat and hit it at Rosie, even if you didn’t intend it to hit Hugo, it did, and it hurt him terribly.”

“I didn’t mean to! He was having fun with us, playing Quidditch.”

“Bollocks, James.” Ron’s temper seemed to be erupting. “He’s never expressed a moment’s interest in Quidditch, unlike Rosie. Didn’t you realize that?”

“No,” his voice was whiney. “We thought he - ”

“There’s no we to it, James,” Hermione cut in. “She says she told you she was landing to get a drink of juice and heard you laughing and saw the bludger hit Hugo in the head.”

“Bullying kids is never funny, James. Ever. It’s unacceptable behavior from anyone, much less you. I’d have thought better of you when it came to being kind to your cousins.”

“He doesn’t know,” Ginny said under her breath. “We’ve not told them.”

Ron crossed his arms but stood there looking ferocious. He spied Rose at the edge of the hallway, listening intently. Al and Lils were there with her. 

“I’m sorry,” a small tear leaked out.  He refused to look at any of the adults but stared at their shoes. 

“I don’t think so, James,” Ron interrupted. “I don’t think you’re sorry for hurting Hugo. I know you’ve done it before and you were let off with a warning. But not this time. No, this behavior is unacceptable in this family, but especially from you. You’re eleven and starting Hogwarts in a month. You’ve gotten your letter and are expected to have some level of maturity, even for your age. Mistreating small kids is behavior that other toerags do,” Ron snorted before hearing Malfoy under Hermione’s breath. 

“He’s already grounded for the next month, Ron,” Ginny added. “But beyond that is up to you and Hermione.

“What do you think, Hermione?”

She turned back to her Godson. “James, look at me.” He looked up but refused to make eye contact. “I said look at me, James Sirius Potter.” He finally did and Hermione saw the fear on his face. “You hurt Hugo. He’s in his bed asleep and can’t come to play at all for the next two weeks because of your mindless behavior. He might need longer to recover from your thoughtless actions. You picked on him for whatever reason, after we as a family have told everyone that he’s to be treated a certain way. And yet you, for some reason that isn’t important now, decided to be careless  around him. We already know he’s not told on you for previous things because he adores you, or did, and didn’t want you to get into trouble.

“But you are in deep trouble now.” 

He shuddered slightly. 

“But I also think that you aren’t sorry for what you did, only that it was worse than you expected and got in trouble for it. No, you chose to hit those bludgers in his direction intentionally. Whether you were aiming for Rosie or Hugo doesn’t matter. Your impulsiveness hurt someone. I’d be furious if you had hurt Rosie, too.”

‘I’m – “

“Don’t say you’re sorry until you actually mean it,” Ginny spat. “You’re only sorry for the consequences impacting you.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Go home and get me your broom. Now.”

“Mum?” James looked at her.  “My broom? What are you going to do?”

“You’re already in trouble. Questioning my judgment will make it ten times worse. Go get your broom, now, James.”

He ran for the fireplace and tossed floo powder into it, disappearing in the green flames.

“What do you have in mind?” Ron asked. 

Ginny stood there pondering a moment. “Until he shows some real maturity, I think losing any and all flying privileges on his broom will suffice. He will hand over his broom to you and so he can’t nick it like I used to do when no one was looking.  I also think that it might be smart that he is not able to try out for the house team for a couple of years.:

Ron took a deep breath, like he’d been holding it in. “If he thinks he can get away with tosser behaviour this should break it for good. Merlin knows how relentless Fred and George were to me.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s make it two years.” She turned to look at the window next to the fireplace. A small sigh escaped. “I’ll owl Minerva this weekend and let her know. Not being allowed to try out until he’s a little older would be a benefit. First years aren’t allowed to try out anyway so two years will make him the start of his third year so he should be mature enough. If not we can have it extended.”

“Ok.” Ron slumped slightly. “Hermione can decide on when he’s allowed to use his broom again. I won’t interfere.”

“Neither will I,” Ginny added.

James ran back through the fire to where he handed it to his Mum. Ginny turned and handed it to Hermione.

“James, for hurting Hugo – “

“I didn’t – “

“Yes, you did. I’ve seen it before. I watched you with Fred laughing when Hugo was being picked on.”

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“No, if you were you’d have not done it.” Hermione’s fierce stare made him bow his head. “We’ve discussed what is acceptable and what isn’t.”

“You don’t pick kids younger than you. I know we’ve taught you better.” Ron’s disappointment was evident. 

Ginny stood there, resolute. “You’re grounded from flying for the rest of the summer. You’re also losing your broom until Aunt Hermione says you can have it back.”

He spun, facing his Mum. “No! That’s not fair!” He turned back around and saw his Uncle staring him down. 

“Fair is following the rules set down – and that was that Hugo is to be protected, not picked on.” Ron gave a piercing look, freezing James’ protests. “Aunt Hermione and I will keep your broom, until you prove to us that you can follow the simplest of rules, of which is You don’t pick on Hugo – ever. You hurt him, James, and that’s not something that a mere I’m sorry will fix. So, until you prove it to us, you’re grounded from your boom. I know Rosie won’t share hers, not with what she’s heard.”

“No! Not my broom. It’s mine!”

“No, now it’s ours, until we decide to return it to you.”

“I am writing to Headmistress McGonagall, to tell her you will not be allowed to try out for the house teams for an additional year, since first years aren’t allowed to try out.”

“Two years!”

“You hit him twice, this time. The consequences for hurting Hugo and laughing about it should be severe.”

“We think that you need time to learn empathy, to treat those who you don’t respect with kindness, and respect, by not bullying them, ever.”

James let a sob out before covering his face and running for the fireplace. It flared for a moment before settling down.

The adults stood quietly for a moment with the rest of the kids present. “Rosie, go back to your room. We’ll be in shortly.” Rosie nodded before doing as asked.

“She was punished too, right?”

“We have. She’s grounded from her broom and quidditch, too. Just not as long, but for hitting Jamie afterward and not running to get you first.”

“Sounds fair,” Ginny looked at her other two kids. “How about we head home and the two of you can play more. Jamie will be grounded for quite some time.  But you two know better than to pick on Hugo, right?” Two very enthusiastic nods were her answer.

“We’ll see you Sunday, even if you don’t come for Sunday lunch. Harry and I will pop over to have a few with you and bring leftovers if you don’t show.”

Ginny gave Hermione a hug and received a light pat on the shoulder from Ron before stepping to the fireplace hearth. “I am sorry for James’ behavior. He knows better and I know when Harry finds out, he’s going to blow his stack over it.” She looked at her two younger children. “It might also be time to sit this bunch down and explain a few things.” The adults shared a look.

“I’m sure once he knows everything about the consequences of the incident, he’ll calm down. We don’t want James turning into a toerag like Dudley was growing up.”

Ginny shook her head. “No, we don’t. Love to both of you and my nephew, too.” Al went first through the fireplace before Ginny pulled Lily Luna close to her and spun away in the flames. 

After they left, Ron went to the cooling cabinet for a cold pumpkin juice and brought Hermione some water. “You think we were too hard on him? Two years is a very long time when you’re that young.”

“No, I think it’s just right. Ginny only banned him from Quidditch for the Summer and she only banned him from trying out for the house team until the start of his third year.  She didn’t say he couldn’t fly on a family broom, only that we would hold his broom until he proved he’s mature enough to get it back. He’s free to fly but not on his prized possession or playing the sport he loves.”

Ron necked the bottle of his juice. “You think it will work?”

“I think it’s a fair and just punishment for hurting Hugo, even accidentally. We don’t want a repeat of the incident ever again.” Ron opened his arms and Hermione melted into the embrace, finally feeling the tension from everything that happened today melt. She stifled a sob but felt Ron’s arms tighten around her. 

 “Everything will sort itself out, Hermione. You’ll see.”

“I know.” They stayed hugging for a long while, both lost in their thoughts on their precious son.