For once, I have nothing to say. So let's just get onto the one shot
Oh, and it's pretty normal by now - but this isn't edited
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The Fairbanks were a delightful family now consisting of 5 members. The three children, each rowdy and wonderful and left under my charge were born to frightfully boring parents who sometimes lacked the common sense I thought should have been a basic requirement for people to have before being allowed to become parents. It was a good thing that the Fairbanks home was run by a competent set of staff who had far more sense than the Master and Mistress of the home.
For almost three years now, since Charlotte, the eldest of the Fairbanks children had her first burst of accidental magic at the young age of 3 years old, I worked as their live in nanny. All members of the family, the adults and the children who were too young to pay any real attention to anything of importance, had no idea about the truth of my identity. Perhaps when Charlotte was off to Hogwarts, I would finally confess to them that I was a witch, and not just their nanny. For now, I would settle for guiding and encouraging her curiosity from the background.
The three Fairbank children walked in front of me for our daily stroll through the park, walking hand in hand with the youngest – a toddling Peter – clinging to Elliot and Charlotte on either side of him. I walked as a close shadow, keeping a careful watch on them with a picnic basket looped through one arm. As we neared our usual shaded area where we stopped for our weekly picnic on the handful of days that the weather was good, Peter and Elliot started to run – as fast as they could with Peter just having learned to walk. Charlotte remained walking patiently, clutching my pet kneazle in her hands. The creature, one Charlotte had named Lottie after herself, settled more comfortably in her arms than it ever did in mine.
When we finally reached our usual space, I set the picnic basket down. Removing the blanket, I spread it out gently before ushering the children to take a seat. Once we were all sat down, I wiped at the children's hands and faces, smiling encouragingly at Peter when he settled himself onto my lap. Searching through the basket, I slowly retrieved all the food, warning the children that they weren't to fill up on sweets before handing Peter a biscuit that he gummed at.
Content, I began to pick at my own food, watching Peter with especially close eyes to make sure he didn't drop his food only to stick it once more in his mouth. Of course, I needed to watch for Charlotte as well who would attempt to feed Lottie everything that was on her plate – especially if the food had any sort of nutritional value and it was something that didn't particularly appeal to her.
As they started to eat, Charlotte listened with very little attention as Elliot regaled her about tales – extremely tall tales – about things that definitely did not happen in his latest sessions with his tutor. Once the children had eaten something, Charlotte and Elliot were on their feet and preparing to run around to play what looked like it was gearing up to be a particularly rambunctious game of tag. Peter attempted to follow after his siblings but I held him securely on my lap, coaxing him to eat some of the bread before he could join them. Finally freed from Charlotte's arms, Lottie curled into a content ball in the middle of the blanket.
Once Peter had eaten enough, I wiped his face and made sure he drank enough water before releasing him. He rose on unsteady feet, and with a strangled excited shriek, he made his way slowly towards his siblings. Of the children, Elliot was the first to spy him, stopping the game temporarily and waiting for a ruddy faced Peter to catch up. Lottie, realising there was no small fingers running through her fur, peeked an eye open and searched out the children. Finding them, she rose to her feet, lifted her nose in the air and ran straight toward them.
Left alone now, I broke of some of the bread and popped it into my mouth, casting a curious glance around the park. My gaze faltered, settling on a man seated on a park bench a short distance away from where the children were sat. He slouched as he sat, the collar of his coat turned up against the wind and I reached silently for my wand, casting a shrouding charm just in case. Although, as I continued to study the man with narrowed eyes, I didn't think he had any untoward intentions towards the children.
Still, I called out for the children, realising the way the man was once more looking at the children – almost as if he could detect the shrouding charm I'd silently cast. Perhaps he was a wizard, perhaps he wasn't. But I continued a close watch on him, nonetheless. Perhaps he too could detect that Charlotte was a muggleborn, perhaps he couldn't. All I knew for certain was that her parents would never appreciate my knowingly keeping them around a stranger. Not when I'd spent years building up their faith in my capabilities.
"Nanny Gauthier," Charlotte started suddenly, bringing me from my musings. She gestured towards her empty plate to show me that she'd finished all of her food. "Can I please have some chocolate now?"
Without a word, I broke off some chocolate for her, "Here you go, dear. Elliot don't look at me like that. Finish your apple slices and then you may have some."
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The Fairbanks children, left securely in my care, had a structured day. Each morning, I woke them early and dressed them for the day. They were walked down to breakfast where we joined their parents until it was time for them to go to their daily lessons with a break for lunch before they returned for their afternoon lessons. Only Peter remained with me, occupying my time until his siblings finished with their lessons and joined us as we sat in the garden. Mrs Fairbanks had recently overseen the redecorating of their family garden with flowers that I had strict instructions to keep them away from.
Peter, having grown tired of walking, crawled around on his knees. Having long given up on protesting about grass stained knees, I settled instead for watching him as he chased after a butterfly. Laughing in the innocent way that only children his age could, Peter extended a hand to catch the butterfly, only for his pudgy fist to close around thin air. His mouth turned downwards into a concentrated frown and before he could try again, his attention was shattered with the noisy arrival of his siblings. He released an excited giggle, extending his arms for his brother who was quick to embrace him.
"How were your lessons?" I asked, trying not to laugh at the face Elliot pulled in response to my question. Only Charlotte strived to give me a response.
Charlotte, now six years old, and believing herself to be sixteen, strived to become more and more a lady as each day passed. Of all her siblings, she was looking forward to school beginning once more in September. She joined me at my side, mirroring my position with repeated glances snuck my way; kneeling on the ground with my hands clasped in my lap. When she was satisfied that she'd managed to copy the way I was sitting, she turned expectantly towards me.
"Charlotte?"
"Ask me once more."
With an indulgent smile, I repeated, "How were your lessons?"
"Mr Phillips says that I'm a very talented reader," she preened. "He says that with a little more practice, I should be able to read any sort of book."
Knowing that she was likely exaggerating, I complimented her nonetheless, "That's wonderful. How about we practice tonight? You can help me read the story tonight?"
"I'd love to!" she insisted with a laugh. She glanced around for a moment, and frowning, she asked slowly, "Where's Lottie?"
"Lottie?" I asked suddenly, startled with the realisation that my kneazle wasn't trailing after me. Usually Lottie would be curled around my feet or even settled in my lap as I worked, content to stay next to me. The only time she was away from me, was when she was with Charlotte. If she wasn't with Charlotte – "Did you happen to see her?"
