Disaster

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"Good Morning! This is Romilda Vane on the WWW Breakfast Show! It's a beautiful Monday morning, it's eight thirty and the sun is shining..."

"Aidan, eat your breakfast," I snap for the sixth time as I rush around the kitchen, late for work. He's just stirring his soggy cornflakes around in the bowl, head on hand, sulking. He throws the spoon down, sighs and folds his arms. "Don't make me force feed you," I warn him.

"I don't want it," he complains, "It's manky."

"...coming up for you this morning, but first we go to Bobby Rawls for the News and Weather..."

"Stop being such a spoilt little brat!" I yell, "Eat your breakfast!"

"NO!"

I slam the Daily Prophet down on the table and glare at him in the most threatening way possible. "I mean it. EAT!"

"I hate you!" he cries dramatically.

"Am I bothered? No, so eat your bloody breakfast! I've had enough of your attitude!" I yell. He picks up the spoon and starts grudgingly shovelling his cereal into his mouth, purposely allowing the milk to dribble down onto his school uniform. "Don't do that," I warn him, wiping his face and cleaning his jumper with my wand, "It's disgusting."

"I don't care," he says, "I like being disgusting."

"Well nobody else likes it!" I snap, "You won't be disgusting as long as you're under my roof." Urgh – I'm an 'under my roof' parent. It's not really the type of parent one aspires to be, but kids really do drive you to do awful things.

"Then I don't want to live under your roof!" The typical reply. I've been known to give it myself.

"Fine, get your own place!" I challenge him. Aidan folds his arms and refuses to eat another bite of his breakfast, so I whip away his bowl.

"I'll just go live with Dad and Daisy!" he cries.

"Fine," I say, "Shall I tell your dad how bratty you've been over the last few days? Hmm? Should I tell him how you broke the radio? Or should I tell him about the rude word you used yesterday?" Oh yes, Mum can play dirty too. If there's one person he's afraid of, it's Scorpius. Not that Scorpius ever really gets mad with him. I just threaten that Scorpius has this secret inner anger that explodes whenever Aidan uses a swear word, or if he won't go to bed on time. In reality, Scorpius wouldn't be bothered if I told him that Aidan broke the radio on purpose when he found out that I've befriended his teacher. Yes, that is what his behaviour stems back to. Apparently it's a child's worst nightmare to have your mother become friends with your teacher. Neville Longbottom was my teacher for years at Hogwarts and I never found it strange that he's one of my parents' best friends. When Aidan discovered 'Mr McDonald' in the flat, having just been dropped off by Mum, he threw a complete wobbly and Brian had to leave to escape the screeching.

"I don't care!" Aidan bluffs.

"...there's been a massive explosion at Zaria's Wand Emporium. Three people have died with dozens more injured..."

"You're the worst Mum ever –"

"Shh!" I demand and turn up the radio.

"The explosion happened just ten minutes ago at the Wand Emporium in Diagon Alley. Thirty people have been rushed to St Mungo's Hospital, with at least another ten still trapped inside the rubble. The explosion is being treated as an accident and is said to have originated in the wand-testing room on the third floor. Again, for listeners just tuning in, there has been a massive explosion at Zaria's Wand Emporium of Diagon Alley..."

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