"The Mudblood" One-Shots

Rookwood does some twisted shit pt. 666

Year: March 18th, 2007

Canonicity: canon to "The Mudblood"

Point-of-view: first person, Lainey Fitzroy

Inspired by: many people have asked me for a mother's day one-shot. this probably isn't what anyone actually wanted lol (this is part 1 of 2)

"Fitzroy," a voice mumbled, stirring me from sleep.

I pried the sweaty side of my face from someone else's arm and rubbed my eyes. "What?"

"Can you stop drooling on me?" Brian peered one eye open and squinted at me over his shoulder. "You're worse than my dad's bulldog."

I rolled my eyes, because every inch of Bruce Urquhart's house was covered in Dickens's drool, and even though Brian's arm was thick with muscle, the surface areas did not compare. "If I refuse, will you call me a female dog?"

He shook his head in exasperation before closing his eyes again. "You're lucky I'm not lucid enough to break up with you."

"Yeah, it's too early for that. You can try later if you're feeling ambitious." I draped my arm over his waist and pulled his back closer to me, nuzzling my face in the crook of his neck. Like every morning for the past eleven months, I would spend the next ten minutes spooning with Brian while he lamented over some aspect of my existence. He was always the small spoon, of course. Whenever I let him be the big spoon, little sleep was had.

"Get off me." He squirmed half-heartedly against my hold. "We need to go to work."

"It's Sunday," I reminded him, throwing my leg over his to pin him down further.

"Fine, then I need to pee."

"Just pee in the bed. I'll make Rookwood clean it up."

Brian coughed out a laugh that reverberated from his body to mine. "I'm not peeing in our bed, not even to torment that asshole."

"All right, yeah, that might be a little too far, but I haven't plotted out how we'll ruin his day today yet and that seemed like an easy solution."

Upon huffing out a weary sigh through my mouth, I breathed in through my nose, inhaling Brian's scent. When we'd first started dating last April, he smelled strongly of caramel and coffee, but after almost a year of cohabitation, our scents had mingled, and now he just smelled like us. Perhaps the intertwining of our lives should have daunted me, but I'd already Seen so many snippets of our future that this merely felt like placing puzzle pieces in their proper spots. Between teaching Teddy Quidditch, cooking every day with Lisa, and mercilessly mocking Rookwood, Brian fit into our lives so seamlessly that I constantly wondered if my Seeing brain had conjured him from some magical void.

"I could use him as a test subject for George's new Bile in a Vial," I suggested after a few moments of brainstorming. "Pour a little in his coffee, see how quickly it incinerates his esophagus..."

"That's a great way to start Mother's Day—kill your mum's source of life," Brian said, sounding almost sincere. He probably expected me to continue the banter, but the playful part of my brain had switched off.

"It's Mother's Day?"

Without even opening his eyes, he managed to give me a dubious expression. "You're the one who's so knowledgeable about what day it is."

Instead of answering him, I rolled onto my back, the dimly lit bedroom filling my peripheral vision as I stared at the ceiling. We'd kept the two beds on opposite sides of the room, preferring to cram together on this one and use the other as a dump for our dirty clothes. Our dresser drawers were constantly open, leaking endless supplies of prank products, and our closet overflowed with brooms that Brian often tinkered with. Teddy criticized our mess on a daily basis, reminding me a little too much of his father when he did so. The only reason I ever actually cleaned was because Rookwood also ridiculed our untidiness, and I could not have my son and that abomination bonding over their mutual love of order.