Babies & Bigfoots [Open]

Crammed between a wall and the thrum of excited, clamorous bodies, Ella considered that maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to go shopping with a toddler at the height of the seasonal rush.

Hogsmeade, that destination so beloved by all who'd once found a fortnightly escape in its streets, was overrun with visitors: wrapped up against its cold winds, crammed into its heated shops, and getting in the way of passers-by to gawk at the lights strung up on its vaulted roofs- ‘getting in the way’ being the operative part of the statement.

The fact that it was the final Hogsmeade weekend of term didn’t help matters.

But even without the students, who in actuality accounted for a very small percentage of the crowds that day, the entire village would have been a total crush. It seemed everyone was of like mind and all of Wizarding England had decided to get their festive shop on, and they had their kids, grandparents- even newts, apparently- in tow.

But there was a reason Ella had done the utterly unthinkable and ventured there on that particular weekend. A reason encased in the howler she’d received from her cousin Lydia that week, asking her to pick up a pair of bespoke shoes from the Diagon Alley branch of Madam Malkin’s and meet her at the Three Broomsticks at precisely 2 o’clock to deliver them.

Except it was now quarter past two and her demanding cousin was a no-show.

The rest of the magical population, though, was not.

Ella wasn’t surprised. She was, however, furious. The errand had been run partly out of goodwill (the shoes were apparently the only thing that could complete Lydia’s Yule Ball outfit this year, and ‘tis the season and all that) and partly out of coercion (Aunt Rose would never let her hear the end of it if she let her darling down on such an important annual event). The latter more than the former, truthfully.

The toddler half of the equation was less unexpected- and far less unwanted. Apparently, when you had a job whose generous time off lined up with school holidays, others were more than happy to take advantage of your idleness to make their own lives easier.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Ella had offered to watch Mariella for her best friend, and Caroline had taken her up on the offer at the first chance- to both their delight.

So she’d taken her along, getting some of her own shopping in before ducking into the Three Broomsticks to drop off the troublesome package. That was fifteen minutes ago. Now both god-child and god-mother looked around the teeming room, backed into a corner by the queue that curled around and out onto the frosty streets. The tight space was fit to bursting with noisy, impatient, boisterous patrons and the cherubic child in Ella’s arms, usually so placid, was glancing around in wide-eyed worry.

Ella’s attention was taken up with trying to locate her wand in order to attempt a shrinking of the bags and boxes she carried so she could more easily shoulder her way through the crowd and back outside. Until someone suddenly backed into her, stepping on her foot and almost toppling the precarious pile. The top box bumped into Mariella’s nose and she promptly burst into loud, surprised wails.

Curling her god-daughter closer to her and struggling to balance the stack of shopping, the witch’s reaction was a furious, biting reflex:

“Watch where you’re going, bigfoot!”