Feeling a Bit Shaggy? Closed

2 December 2017

"Colin! Liam! What ---!?" The twins looked up from Moira, who had just snapped a photograph of them, to the surprised face of their Ma. Their green eyes glinted, full of mischief! Nothing malicious, for they hadn't intended what just happened. Rather, their eyes glinted with the excitement of the moment. It was pure magic, beyond what any of the boys could understand.

"Lorcan, are you okay, laddie? What did these two miscreants do to ye? Moira!" Ma's attention suddenly shifted to the boy's older sister. She was ten. A dark haired girl, quite unlike the reds and fair hair of most of the McCoires. She wasn't alone in sporting black hair, as several of the cousins were dark. Hamish being one, and a constant agitation for the twins he was! Colin watched as Moira fell under Ma's intense gaze. The magical camera was in her hands.

Colin looked down as their little brother spoke up: ""M okay! A bit fuzzy, I think?"

Colin laughed merrily. Liam smirked.

Fuzzy indeed! The boys had been wrestling on the floor when there was a sudden flash of light. Colin realised that he was no longer grasping Lorcan's shirt, but rather a curiously shaggy bit of rug! A rug with their little brother's head sticking out of it! How it had happened, none of the boys could say!

"He's okay Ma! Look!" Colin patted Lorcan's pale blond head. His hair was still a bit green from a mishap the week before involving some of their Seanmamó's potion ingredients. But his hair had been steadily improving, and no longer sported the little violet flowers and green leafy tendrils it had done!

"Right?" chimed in Liam. "He's very comfy!" Their little brother laughed, seemingly no worse for wear.

"I--- You two! Get off yer brother this instant! Honestly, you two are a menace!" she said, at this point, barely able to contain her own mirth. Perhaps Ma realised that Lorcan had been accidentally transfigured somehow, and it would just be a quick matter of heading into London for one of their now fairly regular trips to St. Mungo's. Once the boys were off, she carefully rolled up the rug that was their little brother, so that his head was sticking out the end.

"Look Cailean! Liam! A'm a telly scope!"

Ma whisked her youngest son out of the room, calling over her shoulder. "You three get dressed and come down to the parlour hob this instant!" A wizarding mother's job is never done. One can never tell when one's child will be accidentally turned into something odd or will sprout a tail or turn blue or come down with something awful requiring the healer's deft touch. Yet she can always rely on the expertise of the healers at St. Mungo's to set things right when they've gone all haywire!