This House Won't Stand On Its Own

The oppressive humidity that clung about the air had come to define the month that had always been a rather splendid, fair four weeks. The sudden rise of weather that belonged on the Mediterranean straight rather than in the Yorkshire dales had unsettled everyone that called that whimsical, green and pleasant land their home. Rain hadn’t fallen in a few days and the sky was beginning to show signs of losing its temper, threatening to unleash its great and malevolent wrath in one fell swoop that would clear the atmosphere of its heady, despotic overtones. Yet, despite the warning chimes, there seemed to be no development of the crash and bang of torrid thunder and the sporadic flashes of coquettish lightning. No, indeed, yet another morning rose on the horizon, sticky and bright, its great orange tendrils spreading out, chasing away the night’s cloud cover and setting the sky on fire until there was nothing but a great sea of dazzling, vivid cerulean.

A faint breeze coming off of the twisting meander, that had carved its path through that lush, vibrant landscape so many thousands of years ago, danced in through the French windows that had been thrown open to the world beyond the balcony late that previous night when the stars were twinkling, studded in the night’s sky. The gentle, caressing touch of that cool, sweet gasp of air spread over the chest of the man who called the Georgian manor his home. The rhythmic rise and fall that indicated his breathing was regular and slow. His hair, curled at the ends, was swept out over his face and the pillow, his expression one of peace for the first time in what seemed like years. For those precious moments he looked young again, the lines by his eyes, lingering by his mouth and pacing across his forehead no longer aging him so prematurely.

His sons were curled up either side of him, snuffling snores exhaling out of their nostrils and with her head curled in his neck, his daughter was at rest, a night of bellowing screams, her gums hurting and her skin too hot for her to rest even having been freed from her baby grow, having rendered her completely unable to bear another moment awake. All four seemed to bear signs of waking, their limbs beginning to twitch ever so slightly and as the sun streamed its impossible light into the room, the covers they’d kicked to the end of the bed could not insert themselves as a shield and so mournfully, they committed themselves to the waking world: first Caelum, then Cepheus and then Elijah – Alice, blessedly, returned herself to her father’s neck, blocking out the sun with his curtain of thick, dark hair.

Reluctantly, a dark eye was opened to the world and Elijah turned his head, casting his bleary gaze out over the golden and emerald landscape that stretched before him. Unfurling his arm from around Caelum, Elijah reached onto the nightstand and grabbed up his glasses. He pushed them up, onto the bridge of his nose. He inhaled deeply, and reached up underneath the lenses to rub the sleepy dust from his eyes. When he reopened them, one little face, then another, appeared in his line of vision and two identical smiles lit up on the sleepy faces of his boys who had at some point it seemed, retreated to his bed over their own. Theirs was a west facing room, getting the full heat of the late evening sun. It must have been intolerable. Facing the water, the master bedroom was comparatively better, but only marginally.

“G’mornin’,” Eli mumbled, a half-smile rising on his lips. “Hungry?” He added as a yawn rose in his throat.

“Dippy eggs?” Cepheus asked optimistically, wiping a languishing curl from his brow.

“And marmite soldiers?” Caelum gasped, bouncing up onto his knees.

Elijah chuckled and nodded, giving way for the boys to scrabble over him. Two pairs of feet landed lithely on the plush rug stretched out by the bed and they hurried across the room, bouncing by the door as they waited for their father to get up. Elijah’s rise from the bed was a slow one, as ever, the vertebrate in his back aching after the sticky discomfort of the night before. He lifted and dropped his shoulders a little as he planted his feet on the floor and rose to his full height before turning back and settling Alice down in the lingering, far more pleasant warmth of the bed. He lifted one of the lighter sheets around her to ward off from an intrusive breeze and pressed a kiss to her forehead before taking up his wand and casting a spell to let him know when she woke up. Once sure that she was content in dreamland, Elijah opened the bedroom door and followed his cantering sons down the stairs, pausing the rouse Thierry and Fauve to see if they wanted breakfast too – and he wasn’t disappointed.

Four hungry mouths sat down at the long dining table in the kitchen. All wore fatigued expressions. One wore what distinctly looked like a shrunken version of his old Quidditch jersey from Hogwarts and Fauve, to her credit, did not look to have a shred of remorse, either. Thierry, glasses perched on the end of his nose, had flocked to the sports pages of the Daily Prophet immediately while the twins were interested, thankfully, in the two big glasses of orange juice that Elijah placed in front of them. Four eggs were put aside to go in a pan of steadily warming water while another pan was heated up for the poached eggs he intended to do for himself and the elder two. Bread was put into the toaster and butter and tomato sauce was fetched. In tandem with everything else, the eggs came together and soon enough, plates of breakfast was set down in front of the hungry campers. That, as Elijah thought, was scoffed immediately and so jam, cream and scones were sourced to bide the time for the children just in time for Elijah’s wand to vibrate, signalling Alice was well and ready to greet the world. So it was back upstairs and after donning a vest, Elijah scooped his daughter into his arms and carried her down into the kitchen to get her some breakfast.

“Okay,” Elijah called out once he’d stowed the milk back in the fridge. He lifted the bottle up for Alice and she reached out her little hand, drawing the teat to her mouth. Elijah kept hold of the bottom of the bottle and pressed a kiss to her forehead before continuing, returning his gaze to the others. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Movies, papa?” Fauve asked, tipping her head onto the back of her chair. “For a whole day?”

Elijah smiled. “Sounds good to me. What about you, Mr Krum?” He cocked an eyebrow at Thierry who lifted his head questioningly. “Well, have you got a mountain of work waiting for you or what, today?”

“Not now,” Thierry grinned, “it’s all finished.” He puffed out his chest proudly and picked up his scone, taking an exaggerated bite and only succeeding in getting jam on his nose.

“Good job, Ted,” Elijah smiled genuinely. “Really, well done. I’m proud of you.”

Thierry shrugged bashfully and Elijah shook his head, a little bit of colour brightening in his cheeks, too. They’d been together too long, they had. Just as with Fauve, it was difficult to sometimes see who the parent was and who the child was. When Elijah did take the right role, though, the children seemed to be children just for a moment and not two little people who worried after their errant father. When Thierry joined Hogwarts, though, those roles levelled out for the two of them as Elijah truly began to slide into the shoes of a proper parent to a twelve-year-old. Quitting the Ministry was the best thing he’d ever done. It had let that happen.

“Can I get down?” Cepheus asked brightly, shaking Elijah out of his thoughts.

“Sure, sure. Take your food, guys. Go into the living room. I’ll get some lemonade.” Elijah waved them away and the four raced off, no doubt to argue amongst themselves over which film they’d watch first, leaving Alice and Elijah to sort out the drinks. Once a jug was filled and glasses were sent into the living room with a swish of his wand, Elijah joined them and set the jug down on the coffee table before taking up residence in his arm chair, letting Alice decide where she wanted to go – which was, inevitably, with her siblings, sat between Cepheus and Caelum. One eye was kept on the children, as ever, but the other drifted to the film playing on the television and he slowly felt himself relax.

The first film came and went in a blur of colour and light and before Elijah knew it, he was fetching biscuits and thinking about what he’d make for lunch. Before he could commit to a meal though, five heads sprung up at the distant sound of the doorbell. Elijah clambered gracelessly from his chair and held his hands out for Alice. She happily came up into his arms and he trod through the house, sliding a little on the shiny floorboards as he made his way into the foyer. Then, his hand found the brass knob of the grey front door.

Four familiar faces sprang up before his face and Elijah found himself immediately with an armful of Cecilia Rookwood. He gasped a little and managed to get hold of her, hoisting her up onto his other hip before popping a kiss onto her head. Aurelia, too, jumped forward and hopped to greet him with a kiss before hurrying inside in search of the other children. Shoes were abandoned on her way and soon enough, Cecilia was scrabbling down to follow her sister, her shoes joining the other pair. Then it was just Elijah, Augustus and Archibald and their perch: a man he knew he should remember but for some god forsaken reason, the name just didn’t come.

“Hi,” Elijah chuckled a little, stepping back from the door as he readjusted his hold on Alice. “Is it safe to presume we’ve got babysitting duty?” He queried with a wry smile. “I’m Elijah, by the way.”

The day had started off just like any other. The man had awoken to the sound of his alarm clock blaring into his left ear, before rolling over with a groan and attempting to muffle the noise by covering his head with his pillow. Balthazar then grew still, still enough that the casual observer could very well have been of the opinon that the wizard had fallen right back asleep. Alas, the illusion did not last for long, as a mere fifteen seconds later, though it could vary from ten to twenty three, Balthazar had jolted upward into a sitting position. Sending a sleepy glare in the direction of the clock that had disturbed him from his slumber, the man grabbed his wand off of his bedside table, and flicked it in the direction of the still-blaring device. The flick was a little bit harsher than strictly necessary for casting the spell, but it silenced the clock all the same.

The next few minutes were a blur of muscle memory. Balthazar wasn't fully awake yet, but he was probably capable of his morning routine while still dreaming, with the number of times he'd done it. Washing and dressing passed in a haze of perfect water pressure, cologne, and an epic search for his favorite tie. Tasks finally completed, the man clomped down the stairs and into his kitchen. Muscle memory once again taking over as the man allowed his brain to spin through ideas for his 11am board meeting, the wizard shoved a piece of cinnamon bread into his toaster. Taking a few lengthy strides out into his hall, Balthazar paused in front of a mirror that had been placed perfectly level with the man's head. Combing his fingers through damp locks, the man began to style his hair. Sure, it would look fine if he didn't bother, but Balthazar always liked to look his best. It didn't matter who he would see, if anyone was going to so much as catch a glimpse of him, he had to be looking sharp.

A familiar dinging sound from the kitchen shortly pulled the businessman out of his head, and Balthazar swiftly returned to his toaster. Pulling the freshly toasted bread out of the metal contraption, the wizard quickly placed the slice between his teeth. Holding his breakfast in his mouth, Balthazar swept up his briefcase in his left hand, in order to open and then lock the door with his right. Tossing his keys into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, Balthazar headed to work.

Arriving in the atrium of Harding&Sinclair's main building a few short minutes later, the man popped the last piece of his toast between his lips with a satisfied hum. He then waved jauntily to the woman at the front desk, Susan, as she rolled her eyes with a smile and signed him in for the day. Technically, one was supposed to sign themselves in, but Susan had long ago leant that Balthazar conveniently forgot to do so more often than not. The system was technically to track how many hours employees worked every day, meaning that Bal really didn't see the point of himself signing at all. It wasn't like someone handed him a paycheck at the end of every month in relation to the number of hours he worked.

The board meeting flew by just as they always did, due to the Irish coffee's Balthazar had treated himself to moments before entering the conference room. It wasn't enough to get him anywhere near drunk, just enough to make the droning voices and frankly idiotic suggestions a little more tolerable. His ideas, on the other hand, were well received enough that he had to consider the meeting a success, no matter how bored he'd been from minute 1 to 26.  

Balthazar left as soon as the meeting was over, much to the surprise of everyone he ran into on the way out of the building. He wasn't exactly sure why everyone was so shocked, after all, he took days off sometimes. Sure, they had been happening less and less often since Bash took over for his father, but that was no reason for everyone to look so bloody shocked! If the man had checked, he would have noticed that there hadn't been a single work day for the last six months that he hadn't been in his office. Even Susan, sassy as she was, made no comment. If she had known where he'd be later that day, her silence most certainly would have been broken. As it was, she simply signed him out with a small smile.

Twenty minutes later found Balthazar just inside the entrance to the London Zoo with four children all begging to look at this or that. The man was babysitting Athena's kids, always happy to spend time with the four children he practically considered family. Attempting to convince the children to work their way around the zoo in a calm and orderly fashion fell through a few short minutes later, and so the five kids spent the next couple of hours bouncing diagonally across the zoo from one man-made animal habitat to the next. "Come on you lot," Balthazar said finally, as four young faces peered at the penguins as they swam, dived, and waddled around their enclosure. "Your mum said that I'm to take you to Elijah's now, you wouldn't want to keep him waiting, would you?" Balthazar asked as he ruffled the hair of the two girls. The wizard didn't know Elijah Krum, not really. He'd seen him at the few Order meetings he'd been to, but other than that he had never come into contact with the younger man.

Balthazar hoped, upon showing up on Elijah's doorstep around two o'clock, that Athena hadn't told the man to expect them closer to noon. It hadn't been the wizard's plan to bring the children to the zoo, but it had been a little while since he'd seen them, and he just wanted the lot to enjoy themselves. Balthazar had lost his jacket well over an hour ago, having moved his keys into the pocket of his black slacks, before banishing the item of clothing back into his room. Hopefully it landed somewhere near the laundry hamper, but one could only be so accurate with long-distance Transfiguration. Clinking in the pocket with his keys, were his cufflinks, having taken them off shortly after the jacket in order to roll up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. So there he stood, ringing the doorbell of a relative stranger, with a young boy on each hip. The moment the door had opened, Cecilia threw herself at the man before her, followed by her sister not long after. Balthazar couldn't help but smile slightly, having being greeted the same way only hours previously.

"Yes, indeed," the wizard replied with a smooth smile, masking any internal confusion. Athena had told him to bring the kid's to Eli's, not mentioning anything about staying to help him with them, but Balthazar figured that staying wouldn't hurt. No-one at work was expecting him back, and he was always up for spending more time with Athena's kids. Besides, it was hardly fair to get the children all wound up, only to dump them in someone else's care straight afterwards.

"Balthazar, it's a pleasure" he introduced with a small quirk of his lips, shifting his hold on Archibald as he stepped through the doorway. "We just spent a couple of hours running around the London Zoo," Balthazar informed the handsome man before him, "so they're bound to be a little hungry after all that excitement."

Glancing away from the man's face, only to find the large eyes of the young child Eli was holding peering up at him, Balthazar felt his face soften. He usually wouldn't do anything like this in front of someone he didn't know, but he already looked a right mess, he was sure. His shirt was sure to be rumpled, and he was positive that there was a small stain on the ankle of his right pant leg, but it couldn't be helped. Crouching down slightly, flexing his biceps in order to maintain a proper hold on the two boys, Balthazar looked the beautiful young girl held in muscular arms. "Who's this, then?" he asked, left side of his mouth twitching upward.

Four additional entrants meant that the total of children in one home clocked up an uneven nine and when Prim was dropped back sometime within the next half an hour from her sleepover, that would make a round ten. Needless to say, Elijah was prepared to use whatever tactics he could to get an extra pair of hands mucking in with him. He didn’t like to use the House Elves, regardless of how eager they often were to help, and that was often why the children spent their days in their pyjamas rather than going through the rigmarole of dressing. Plus, there was so very rarely any company that it made it asinine to do so anyway and if they were going outside, a pair of wellies did the trick to no end.

This was ever so slightly different. The man that had just stepped into the house with a Goyle-Rookwood-Potter on each hip qualified as a visitor. The well-presented girls whose pretty shoes had been abandoned so blasé-ly in the foyer – their mother would screech, Elijah didn’t doubt – certainly qualified as visitors. Elijah was still in his pyjamas. His son, his daughter, his infants and his youngest in his arms were all still in their pyjamas and it was early afternoon. They had visitors. All of this was setting off panic bells in the back of Elijah’s head and the internal meltdown was so intense that he almost missed out on what Bal – for, Balthazar was much too long – was saying.

“Alice,” Elijah managed to get out, a smile lighting up his face as he popped an involuntary kiss to his daughter’s brow. She smiled around her little fist which she had sucked into her mouth and he chuckled a little before adding, in that fashion that all parents seemed to do well: “she looks like her mother, thank Merlin.” Self-deprecating humour. It was as though they handed it out in the maternity wing. Ah, father of Alice Krum. Here, have a bucket-load of self-doubt and the assurance that your fiancée will leave you. That’ll keep you awake at night. Congratulations, sir.

“Say hello, baby,” Elijah murmured, looking at Alice gently. Much to his amusement, she stuck out that same fist, mirroring the action she’d seen her father do more than a handful of times, her own little Krum smile lighting up her face. Elijah shook his head, pressing another kiss to her forehead, hugging her warmth closer to him. He would never, ever, lose her. Not like he’d lost her namesake or lost Katherine. He’d keep Alice near. He’d keep her safe. She was too precious.

London Zoo, Elijah’s brain managed to remind its host, scooting him back on track. The boys, at least, would be insufferable when they finally got to get down and wander around again. They never really enjoyed being carted about unless it was by their parents who both provided themselves to the boys as pillows to sleep on and good vantage points due to their height. Bal and Eli both had that same height but would never be quite the same than the familiar, enveloping smells of the mother and father of Archibald and Augustus. Indeed, they were the nannies of the scenario and those boys, having no doubt stared at snakes and lions and monkeys, would want food and they’d want to babble about it to each other before going off to destroy something precious. Elijah didn’t mind too much. He had a feeling that the inevitable – and easiest thing to do – would be to roll out some canvas somewhere and sit both sets of twins down on it with some paint and some crayons. Then, perhaps a bath would be in order – and clothing damage control.

Elijah closed the door, shutting out the world. He smiled, readjusting his hold on his daughter before drawing a hand through his hair. He looked at Balthazar, then. Really, even then Elijah Krum should have known he was a goner. All he could really acknowledge in the back of his head was that he’d never found forearms sexy before and after fixating a little too long on the puffy (adorable) hair and the dusting of stubble and, most importantly of all, the ease with the twins perched on him, especially considering the dead weights that the pair of them were – Elijah had a theory that they did it on purpose – Elijah finally dropped his gaze. Well, he moved it. Then moved it back. Then he shook his head and gestured to the door to the kitchen which, as ever, was wide open with breakfast smells still lingering.

“Daaaaaaaadddddddddd!”

When Elijah entered the kitchen, the sliding doors that led to the small, formal sitting room back in the foyer opened and the sound that emerged was the shrill, lyrical voice of Prim. Elijah looked up, watching as she danced into the kitchen, a bright smile rising on his face in response to her own, and behind her, he spotted Mrs Baker who, having noticed Bal, took a moment to wave and gesture that she’d call him before darting back into the sitting room, the sound of the fireplace blaring following soon after.

“Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad.” Prim buzzed about him excitedly. “Guess what, guess what, guess what?”

“Prim! Prim! Prim! Prim!” Elijah returned, laughing as he poured out a glass of juice for her. “What?”

“Me and Susie-”

“Susie and I, Primmy,” Elijah teased, handing her the juice. “Say hello to Bal, would you for me?”

Prim turned around, spinning on her socks, her shoes no doubt having added to the pile in the foyer. She waved enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing about her head, before she swivelled back around and looking at Elijah before taking a long sip of her juice. Then, she moved to carry on. Elijah briefly took a moment to wonder whether his four year old should have been as vocal as she was – and as eloquent, too – but she had an interesting combination of genes and, having grown up thus far under his supervision it was no wonder she was as wildly enthusiastic as she was. The energy was impossible to stifle. Her passion for talking – much like Cecilia Rookwood’s – was often hard to rival.

“Susie and I made bracelets!” She burst finally, unable to contain herself. “We made loads! Everyone can have one! Where is Ceci?”

Elijah nodded in the direction of the living room and in a moment, Prim motored away, shouting her hello to Bal – finally – just before she disappeared through the doors. Elijah shook his head, watching with vague interest as she jumped onto the sofa, rousing complaints from the children, and he chuckled a little before sitting Alice down on the counter. He kept a hold of her sides, mindful that she had the habit of swaying this way and that without warning, and he looked back at Bal, clearing his throat a little. This is awkward, Elijah, his mind mocked, have you really gone so long without meaningful human interaction? The answer was a resounding yes.

“And Prim makes ten,” he murmured, smoothing down a loose curl on Alice’s head. He looked over at Bal with a half-smile. “Any idea what they’ll want for, what,” Elijah looked over at the clock ticking merrily on the wall. “I dunno, brunch, I suppose it is.”

Alice cawed, shooting out a hand in the direction of the living room. Elijah turned, smiling a little to find his four children stood, peering around the door frame to look at Bal. Curiosity would always get the better of them, it seemed, and if there was a new person responsible for Athena’s children – essentially their cousins – then it was a very interesting scenario for them indeed because they naturally wanted to know who this person was and whether the said person would want to talk to them, too. Often, they weren’t disappointed. In fact, scratch that, they were never disappointed. They were more sociable nowadays than their father. But then, that was to be expected. They were much more charming.

Fauve was selected as tribute, it seemed. She was thrust out, sent into the butterfly net. She managed to catch herself before she fell over and turned to glare at her brothers before righting herself as much as she could given as she, too, seemed to realise she was far from presentable. She and Elijah were alike in that sense. Too alike, he felt sometimes, yet it was indicative of how long they had been family.
He was beginning to lose sight of the little girl that he’d nursed through nightmares during the oppressive humidity of the Paris nights. Her reclusive slightness was being replaced with a confident, vivacious and utterly splendid young girl and Elijah thanked the heavens there was a few years left before he had to worry about boys, girls and all of the trappings of teenage life. He could do without that, thank you very much.

“I’m Fauve,” she introduced formally. “It’s very nice to meet you, sir. My brothers are hiding. I’m second eldest but I’m not hiding! Thierry is oldest and he’s a wimp!”

“Am not!” Thierry admonished, throwing himself out of the living room, nearly bowling Cepheus over in the process and eliciting an involuntary admonishment from his father to be careful.

“Papa!” Thierry protested, his words falling into easy French. “Tell Fauve not to be mean to me!”

“She’s your sister,” Elijah returned persisting with the English, shooting his son a pointed look. Flitting from language to language wouldn’t do here. “You work it out.”

The twins made their entrance then. Cepheus joined his sister’s side, waving absently and Elijah watched as Caelum marched up and shot his hand out brightly.

“Did you see the giraffes?” He asked brightly. “Can you tell me about them, please? Did the little one get big in the end? Is the mummy going to have another baby?”

Elijah shook his head. He had a budding zoologist on his hands. Now, Bal had one too as he would become Caelum’s hero for a day. Aurelia and Cecilia, Caelum had long since learnt, weren’t good on giraffe details because they preferred the big cats. For the longest time, Caelum had been searching for a fellow giraffe enthusiast and, perhaps, he’d find one in Bal. Elijah indulged him as much as possible but it seemed as though Caelum knew that his father was not nearly as passionate as him about the giraffes and it just simply wasn’t good enough.

“Can we have macaroni for lunch?” Fauve asked happily. Elijah nodded, glad someone had suggested something.

“Cool,” Thierry chipped in. “Are you going to come in and watch the film, Papa?”

“Not if I have to make you food,” Elijah smirked. “Go on, go and watch it. All of you.”

Three went. One remained.

“Did you know that giraffe footprints are 12 inches by 9 inches?” Caelum asked brightly. “And that you’d have to run to keep up with one because each step is fifteen feet long?”

Zoologist, indeed.

She was adorable, Alice, the baby in Eli's arms. It was a sight, most certainly, to see the two of them together. The way the father looked at her, like she was his heart, made Balthazar's throat go dry. That was the way parents should look at their children. How good the man was with her, the seemingly effortless way she sat in his arms. It struck the wizard, somewhere deep in his quickly pumping heart. He wanted that.

Balthazar watched silently as a bouncing Prim entered, and smiled softly as the girl conversed with her father. Eli had a sense of humor, most certainly, and the businessman found himself incredibly satisfied by the realization. He liked people who could take a joke every once in a while. Why he had been so intent on the man before him being one of these people, Balthazar wasn't quite sure. Either way, Prim was startlingly eloquent for someone her age. He hadn't doubted that the Krum was intelligent, given that he had been the Deputy Minister for Magic, but to raise a child with such obvious intellect was a different matter entirely.

Ten. There were ten of them. Ten children.

To be fair, not all of them were Eli's, four belonged to Athena. Still though, six children. The man couldn't be older than twenty five! Somewhere in the back of his mind, Balthazar was aware that he wasn't really being judgmental. It may have seemed like it, and perhaps there were people that would be, but the wizard could understand the appeal. Hell, he was jealous. Yes, he could admit it, to himself at least. Here was Elijah, practically half his age, having already been Deputy Minister and with a family. What did Balthazar have? The company. That was all, really. Nothing more.

"Not brunch," he man muttered under his breath, not really intending for Eli to hear him, but not caring overly much if he did, "it's two o'clock. So, linner. Or dunch. No, scratch that, they both sound dumb. Snack. It's a snack."

Balthazar allowed his eyes to wander, taking in his surroundings, and before he knew it the man was standing before two bickering siblings. Fauve and Thierry were older than the wizard had been expecting, but they amused him just as much as the little ones. If not more so.

"It's very lovely to meet you too, Miss Fauve," Balthazar replied formally with a quirk of his lips. That one was sure to be a heartbreaker, one day. Blinking rapidly in the face of such unexpected and enthusiastic questions about giraffe's, the man nodded, expression serious. He knew what it looked like when a person was passionate about something, and if this little guy wanted to be passionate about long-necked creatures. Well, Balthazar could hardly begrudge him that.  

The other children pranced off to watch a film, clearly pleased by the promise of macaroni and cheese. However, one of the boys stayed, the boy who had asked about the zoo. He prattled off a few facts about the hoof size and stride length of giraffes, and Balthazar couldn't help but play along.

"Of course we did," he informed the young boy solemnly, "the youngest giraffe is quite tall, almost as tall as his mother. And she'll be having another baby in a few months, according to the zookeeper." There was a short pause. "Did you know that a giraffe's tongue is longer than your arm?" Balthazar asked, raising a questioning eyebrow, expression transforming into something playful.

"Balthazar Harding," the man continued, sticking out his hand for the boy to shake, "bottomless hole of random, usually useless, facts." He smirked slightly, eyes flickering sideways in Elijah's direction, before settling back on his son. The other wizard looked like a damn loungewear model, for Merlin's sake. He'd have to excuse himself as soon as he could and head for the nearest bathroom, his hair was probably a mess.

The man could only hope that Elijah wouldn't ask how he knew the length of a giraffe's tongue. It was a rather embarrassing story, to say the least, and certainly something that he would rather not recount anytime soon.

Especially in front of Eli.

Macaroni and cheese: Elijah’s children were nothing if not predictable and he adored them for it. He couldn’t fault them, either. It was a lazy day, the hazy sunshine unrepentantly as slothenly as they were. The breeze was gentle, brushing over their cheeks, planting kisses in their hair with the sweet fragrance from the garden. It made sense for them to all indulge in what they knew. That was why Elijah had made sure that he’d popped out to the baker’s in the village while the children were watching one of the first films, leaving a House Elf behind to watch over them. He’d returned with warm, fresh bread and a bounty of croissants which they had buttered and slathered jam over before falling back into the movie as though nothing had happened in between. Now, in forgetting, stomachs were rumbling and Elijah knew that a dollop of macaroni, a side of salad and some bread would do the trick for them until supper time later in the evening when cold meats and the rest of the baguette he’d bought would come into play. He just hoped that Bal would desire to stay for the duration. He was sure Albus and Athena would appreciate it, too. Everyone needed a bit of time.

As Elijah removed a few pots and pans and a large dish for the whole thing to go into, he watched as his son interacted with Balthazar. The boy with his fluffy dark brown hair and his shining eyes almost looked, if Elijah was to squint, like he could have belonged to Bal himself but all thoughts along those lines were quickly washed from the artist’s mind as he lifted a pot onto the hob, Alice extending a hand to help him. He smiled, thanking her with a kiss, and the two then set about looking for the right kind of pasta – which, of course, couldn’t be anything other than macaroni but Elijah and his little family went through more than enough pasta and as lasagne strips and fusilli and goodness only knows what else fell out of the cupboard, onto the countertop and splaying out from holes in the bottom, Elijah made a mental note to take some time to clean out the cupboard…eventually.

Across the room, Caelum turned, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment as he watched his father mess around with the pasta. He pouted a little when Elijah tossed his favourite – the shells – back into the cupboard but he accepted it for the meantime because if Fauve got to pick then it meant that soon he’d be able to have his turn and he wanted shells with tomato ragu and lots of garlic bread. Caelum licked his lips absently at the thought and his stomach grumbled, as though the croissants had not been enough on top of breakfast. He turned back to Balthazar – decidedly his new friend – and he shook the man’s hand formally before dropping his back to his side.

“They’re not useless,” Caelum protested, his little mouth tripping over the ‘s’ sound a little. “I like them. Daddy likes them too but he’s just all worn out over giraffes. He likes cats. Did you know that he can turn into a cat? A big white one with black stripes! But my dad’s tongue isn’t longer than my arm. That’s why giraffes are so cool.”

“Hey, mister,” Elijah called out with a smile. “Don’t give out all my best secrets.”

“Oops!” Caelum flushed a bright shade of pink. “Sorry. But that one’s my favourite.”

“How about we go and see the baby giraffe soon?” Elijah offered, frowning absently over the water beginning to turn in the pan. “And the mummy one?”

“Can Bal come too?” Caelum burst. Best friends indeed. Elijah nodded, glancing over at Bal wonderingly and Caelum threw his fist into the air in delight before running off into the living room, shouting: “I’ll be back!” over his shoulder but Elijah doubted he’d return before they were called for linner.

Leaving the water, Elijah opened the fridge, retrieving a strawberry for Alice which she took gratefully, and two bottles of sparkling water. After closing it, he took out a pair of tall glasses from the cupboard and then, brandishing his wand, he summoned some ice from the freezer, filling the glasses with it before opening the water, using magic to pour out the contents because, though Alice was occupied and wouldn’t be interested, he doubted that he’d be able to open the stiff bottle tops without putting her down. He didn’t want to do that yet, though. Not when Mira would want her back all too soon.

“So you, Mr Bottomless-Pit, have been caught to go to the zoo again…” Elijah began with a smile, lifting up one of the glasses and putting it down nearer to Bal. “Hope you don’t mind but I think you’ve just made a friend for life in that one. Cae isn’t going to forget you. You’ll be giraffe man, if he doesn’t remember anything else.”

Elijah observed Bal again with a gentle sweep of his eyes, trying to get to grips with what was setting his heart a little bit funny in his chest. Was it the hair all askew in this stressed yet effortlessly sexy way? Definitely. The peppering of facial hair along his jaw? Of course. But perhaps it was the rolled up sleeves and the arms curled around the babies like they were meant to be there, though Elijah could distinctly remember Athena telling him that Bal didn’t have any children – one of those off-hand comments that one makes about another person just as most said that Elijah had too many. He didn’t get it though, in Bal. Not when this man was clearly so at home with children. Somehow it must have just passed him by but he knew it was that. He didn’t know when he’d become such a family man but it was seeing Bal interact with his children that set him feeling all giddy and ridiculous. He was like him. Someone who was interested in their little lives, in them as people not as Elijah Krum’s children. Like a parent. Not like a visitor or as, Elijah winced, one of his attempts at finding them a mother – Mira included though her only maternal bone, small though it was, did extend to Alice.

“What are we going to do, hey baby?” Elijah murmured to his daughter as he returned to the fridge, taking out some parmesan. “What are we going to do?” He leaned his head against hers for a moment before closing the fridge again. “Feeding of the five-thousand, that’s what this is.”

Putting the cheese down on the side, Elijah looked down at his daughter. Her bright blue eyes darted up to his and he smiled at her, watching as she offered the strawberry to him. As best as possible, Elijah tried to take a little bite but still ended up coming away with quite a bit of what was now quite a soggy fruit, worn down by her sucking on it rather than biting it. He chewed anyway, expressing his love of the fruit once he’d swallowed. Alice smiled, the look lighting up her face but it fell a little as she held out the stalk, at a loss. Elijah chuckled and took the stalk from her, throwing it into the bin before retrieving the punnet of strawberries from the fridge.

“One for you,” he murmured, holding up a strawberry for her to take. He took another two from the punnet and he stepped around the counter until he was stood before Bal, realising with a start that he had a couple of inches on the elder man. He dropped his gaze from Balthazar, clearing his throat absently before holding out a strawberry each for Augustus and Archibald. “One for you and one for you.” He added as the boys reached out for the fruit.

“You wanna put these two down?” Elijah inquired, ruffling Archibald’s hair as he looked at Bal. “I’m surprise they’ve been patient this long. Maybe you’re not so much your mother’s sons after all, hmm?” Augustus pouted and Elijah laughed outright. “Alright, alright… I take it back. Athena’s babies, it is. But still, you wanna get down and go explore and destroy or whatever it is you do?” A decisive nod. Destruction it was.