Sittin' In A Treehouse

The smell of pancakes greeted Luckett as he turned his head, enticing him to forget Sophia's bedroom altogether and hunger instead. They smelled fresh, mildly sweet -- and the slight scent of maple syrup hung in his nostrils, making him even hungrier than before. He was appreciative for the breakfast being made, grateful eyes looking up to silently convey that which his mouth had grown too wet to express. From where he sat, they looked soft and fluffy. Buttery too.

His stomach growled, the gurgling loud and rumbly, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. He'd been devoid his entire life of what a home-cooked meal smelled like, and how it seemed to linger in the cozy air of a warm, welcoming home. Was this what it felt like to be cared for by a parent?

'Are you positively mad? What about your dad's pancakes?' Lucky blinked at Sophia, apparent shock written all over his face, as if she were crazy to forgo food for anything. 'They smell so bloody good, don't they? We got to grab a couple of them before we go.'

He made quick work of cleaning up their mess from the night before, scooping the game pieces into the boxes they came out of. The cards followed, and were haphazardly shoved into a drawer. Luckett Langford wasn't typically one for cleaning -- but when the person who was making him breakfast asked, the boy listened. He was determined to become a good, well-fed houseguest.

Tugging his luggage, he hurried out of the living room behind Sophia -- but not before swiping a couple pancakes. He shoved one into his mouth as they made way to the backyard, eager to absorb every bit of their buttery, syrupy goodness. They were as delicious as he expected.

'Want one?' He offered her a pancake, it hanging limp between his fingers, as they traveled past her mother -- and an owl that had the right idea. Breakfast was too important to wait for.

Lucky did his best to keep up, but was slowed by the heavy luggage being hauled with him. When they reached the steps, he lifted his luggage with both hands -- three suitcases, a stuffed satchel and a backpack. He was capable of the job, muscles heaving up and over each step with a string of quiet curses. A half-eaten pancake dangled from his mouth, syrup dripping down his chin.

And he nearly choked when the treehouse came into view. There it stood, in all its glory.

He silently gawked at the treehouse itself -- the stained wood, the big glass windows, and the huge balcony that doubled as a deck. It was larger than Lucky envisioned or expected, and the dumbfounded look on his face said it all. He was impressed by its sheer size, in absolute awe over how impeccably built it appeared to be. It was like Sophia had a home all to herself.

Almost tripping over his feet, he sprinted up the remaining steps and stumbled into the interior. His eyes didn't know where to look first, and he bounced at the scene unfolding in front of him like a child hyped on too much sugar. The look on his face would tell Sophia how overwhelmed and overjoyed he was, if she couldn't already by how he hopped from one thing to the next.

'All the times you mentioned having a treehouse, I never once thought it would look something like this!' He guffawed in delight, and seconds later jumped into her pile of stuffed animals. 'It's the most brilliant thing I've ever seen.. I could live here for forever!'

Lucky chuckled, rolling onto the floor from the beanbag chair with a plush in his hands. Lying there, he stretched like a breaststroke swimmer, power beginning to return to his limbs after all the excitement he had exerted. A smile stretched over his handsome face, wide as the universe, as sincere as the sun and stars. He never wanted this feeling to end, so happy and comfortable.

He made a sound in protest over his laundry, but scrambled to his feet when Sophia left.

'This is going to be the best summer we've ever had, innit?' Langford asked, following her out onto the balcony, a smile reaching his amber-colored eyes. He went to hug his best friend from behind, hoping to hoist her up and swing her around in his enthusiasm. He had too much excitement running through his system to possibly stay still. 'The summer of all summers!'

Lucky listened as Noah showed off all of his signed treasures and spoke of their origins -- and all he could do was laugh and nod, his eyes fixed on Noah, amber and bright, far too aware of how much he was enjoying their chat, the sound of his voice and the hint of laughter that threaded itself in each of his words as he cracked some jokes with the man. He couldn't remember the last time he had this much fun talking about Quidditch with someone much older than him, if ever.

His eyes didn't know where to look, whether at the newly signed memorabilia by Tammy Doyle, or one of the more rarer items -- and he didn't know if there were any coherent words he could use to express his interest, none that didn't come with a certain amount of giddy cursing or silly embarrassment, but Lucky couldn't help but grin, his heart racing in his chest because Noah, entertaining and fascinating as he was, liked him enough to share his collection with him.

He wanted it to last forever, as he'd never felt so welcome and included by an adult.

Langford never understood what it was like to bond with a father figure, as his own didn't pay much attention to him. If at all. But he imagined his and Noah's time together was what it was supposed to be like, how it should've been, and if he could steal a little more time with the man, he thought, maybe it would come laced with more shared laughter and bonding, with Noah's hand squeezing his shoulder and his voice repeating his name as often as it did. It felt special.

His smile widened at the mention of Sophia, and his eyes softened with a tenderness. Lucky had never known how lonely she'd been before Hogwarts, but he pieced together the reasons as to why she would've been. Her color-changing hair, for starters. If only he would've known her before school, he would've helped her be less lonely. They could've been lonely together.

'Wait, this is for me? You're letting me keep this?' A strange weight settled in his chest, taking his breath as he made sense of Noah's words and the valuable item placed into his hands. 'Ta muchly, sir. I don't know what to say, but I'll love and treasure it my whole life.'


Did he really now own a piece of the Bludger hit by Roderick DeAvros? Was this real life? The extra effort his lungs were doing, and the fast uneven rhythm in which his chest was moving confirmed it was real -- and Lucky choked back a baffled laugh as he hurried off to dinner.

--

He plopped down at the dinner table with the rest of the family, his mind wrinkled with happy thoughts, as his eyes regarded the large spread of food laid out in front of him. But before he could reach for anything, Penelope began pointing out various dishes and insisting he try one thing before he try another -- and Lucky happily obliged, grabbing her recommended dishes.

'It's all good, Soph. Your mum is picking all the best things for me to try first, isn't she?' Lucky told her, laughing, his silverware forking his latest helping of food. He then playfully scrunched up his nose and swallowed a bite, his appetite surfacing with each and every one that followed soon after. The meal, like all during the first week, was one of the best he'd ever had.

Lucky twitched his nose slightly, enjoying the mix of Italian and Indian herbs on his tongue and how they made him feel. He dropped his hand beside his plate, though, and sighed, because by now he was convinced that he could close his eyes and live comfortably as long as he stayed there forever, with Penelope fussing over what he needed to try next, Sophia smiling in his direction, and Noah casually glancing his way for what seemed like another conversation.

'There's nothing I want to do more than play Quiddy professionally, sir.' He nodded, taking a quick sip of water to cleanse his palate, before smiling his endearing, open smile. 'It's all I've wanted for as long as I can remember. Flying has always felt like dreaming with my eyes wide open, and holding my bat makes me feel like I can conquer anything.'

He was far too aware of how much he was smiling, of how much he was beaming over his love of the sport, and how easy it was to disregard the uncertainty of his future when he believed he had all the talent needed to succeed, all the passion needed to blaze a new path in Quidditch history, and that those would simply be enough to allow him to fly the skies for the rest of his whole life.

But that wasn't all he needed, was it? Noah's question reminded him that his dream, after graduation, was only obtainable if he'd passed his exams and enrolled at the Academy, and the thought managed to make his smile fade, a slight crease appearing between his brows.

'I'll be honest, yeah? I'm not the best student, but I try -- especially when it comes to Quidditch and whether or not I'll play after graduation.' He nodded, glancing at his friend for confirmation. 'It helps having Soph too. We share the dream, so it makes it easier to hunker down and study together for hours if it means we'll both be able to achieve it.'

Lucky poked at his plate with a reflective expression on his face, his elbow resting at the edge of the table. It was hard to process that everything he ever wanted depended on something he disliked. School. But if he could get past that, and get the grades needed to enroll for classes at the Academy, he'd make his lifelong dream a reality. It couldn't be too hard to do, could it?

'I enjoy Charms a bit, but I'm partial to Herbology because I love Sprout. She's got to be the best teacher I've ever had. No bias or anything, the total honest truth.' Lucky nodded, then looked at Penelope. 'And I'll never forget the day I became Quiddy captain. She looked proud, like I was her own son or something. Made me feel really good.'