Roh-Ballentyne Livingroom
Mid-afternoon; about 2:00 pm

The whole world was upside down; quite literally from Waverly's perspective as her long legs hooked over the back of the sofa and willowy arms stretched out above her head to graze the soft carpeting. The wireless was on, but she wasn't really listening (though her bare toes did swish in time with the beat of a Knockturnal's song). The excitement of Christmas had come and gone; as too had the potential for mischief at Raine's birthday party the night before. That whole situation was beyond buggered. She still wasn't completely comfortable with the choices that she'd made but it was done now. It would be best for everyone if they just never talked about it ever again. Waverly was completely alright with that notion.

Glancing to the staircase that lead to the second floor and bedrooms she sighed and yelled a plaintive, "MA"! There was no response. It was one of the rare days in which Althea was out doing her thing and it was two known among their peers as "Roh" were inhabiting the same space. It didn't happen often, mostly because Waverly would have got along with Althea or made and excuse to be out of the house. She was feeling a bit like a homebody on this particular December day. Sometimes, despite the growing complexity of their relationship these little urges popped up in the sixteen year old to be close to her other mother. Most of the time she chalked it up to long lost nostalgia for the days when she thought the woman hung the moon and saved the stars. After all, it was just not cool to miss your mom; especially when you claimed to think of her as a mindless cog in the Ministry system.

"Hey Ma! Mum! Muma! Mumsie-Wumsie," still no answer; though there was a shuffling of feet that could be heard overhead. She took a deep breath, resting one hand against the flat of her stomach as she bellowed in her loudest voice, "ZORA ROH; YOUR UNDERAGE DAUGHTER IS GOING TO CRACK OPEN THAT BOTTLE OF CHABLIS YOU AN' MAMA HAVE BEEN SAVING FOR A SPECIAL OCCASION UNLESS YOU COME PAY ATTENTION TO MEEEE," She listened for a second propping herself up on her elbows, though she was no longer bellowing she continued to tease her mother (provided the woman was even listening). "That's it, I'm going into the kitchen...I'm getting the wine opener...you should really come and stop this desperate cry for attention," a small grin tugged on her lips as she laid back down, springy curls brushing the floor, "Your inattentiveness is directly leading to delinquent behavior at this poooint. You are as responsible, nay, CULPABLE, as I aaaaaam".

Crack!

Zora appeared! Waverly's mother, clad in weekendsies and a bathrobe with her thick curly hair trussed up on top of her head in a loose bun,  materialized in the kitchen doorway - Waverly wasn't there. The Cablis was safe.  She spun round and saw Waverly feet in the air. She tromped right over and started whacking her sixteen-year-old daughter about the legs and feetwith a rolled up Daily Prophet.

Through grinning, gritted teeth, she beat the perp into giggling submission.  "Hold. It. Right. There!"  (Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!)  "Stand. Down. Now! Horrible. Little. Blighter!"

She'd been clipping her toenails in the upstairs bathroom when the melodic tones of her well-mannered and lovely daughter wafted up through the modest little rowhouse.  The Mother/Auror/Newsaper-Dueler came round the couch and continued with the tactical barrage targeting Waverly's goofy head and shoulders. 

"I see you're awake today," she said with a patient smirk when she finally stopped her assault.  She stood over the couch and looked down on the sweet little witch.  It was always such a joy when Waverly was home, even with the banshee-like cries for attention.  Although like any teenager home off school, there was hibernation.  She tapped the newspaper against her thigh, silently daring another go at her prized Chablis.

"Figured you'd be at the shops."

Waverly squealed as the "beating" commenced, "I knew the Chablis would get you running! So, owahahaha PREDICTABLE," in  trying to shield her legs she left her head open for attack and MaZora made quick whaps with a playful vengeance. This was the mother she adored. The older she got the bigger the gulf between them seemed to grow but there were moments when they came back to the thing that had always made her happiest as a little girl; roughhousing and teasing banter. Althea was the mama that cuddled and petted her head, sang her lullabies, told her stories, tamed her wild curls; Zora was more hands off, not for lack of love but lack of time. She'd always been good about playtime though, and teaching Waverly to stand tall without shame.

It felt terrible sentimental, but she was happy to see the reappearance of this playful side. Zora could be so serious, but this morning she was smiling and lovely. It struck Waverly at strange times how young both her mothers looked, but especially without makeup and her thick black hair piled atop her head, Zora seemed almost fresh-faced and dewy (which was a really weird thought to have about your own mother). "Nah, I'm sleep drinking. The Chablis is caaaaalling to meeee," her eyes went half lidded and she stuck out her arms, legs moving over her head like she was a shuffling upside down sleep zombie. She peeked out one green eye, lips twitching with a grin, "'Sides I spent all my money on your boss sunglasses".

Finally tired of flailing like a turtle on her back she righted herself, folding her long limbs into the lotus position and reaching out to hook her arms around Zora's waist for a quick hug. As contentious as their relationship could be, Waverly found herself missing her mother more and more; maybe it was meeting Annie and being reminded that not everyone had a mother who thought it was their child's inalienable right to feel not only loved but respected and valued just for being themselves. It certainly had been a wake up call, like maybe she'd been taking her mothers for granted. "Did Mama tell you that Headmistress McGonagall has agreed to help further my animagus practice? Owls came yesterday, and I got an E in Defense! Storm never gives E's. I was gonna tell you but you weren't home yet before I left for the party".

Zora hugged Waverly back and sat down on the arm of the couch, still grinning at the ado.  Afternoon sun was pouring in and the house felt warm.  Zora looked forward to Althea coming home, bags floating behind her full of food and necessities from the market.  (And hopefully a new cauldron with the gift certificate from Zora's folks.)

Her eyebrows perked up.  Animagus training? An E in Defense! This was good news!  "Well done, girl!" he complemented.  There was nothing that made a Mother Auror more proud than offspring what knew how to use a wand. 

"I didn't know your marks came in.  How'd you do in Charms? You didn't make prefect and not tell me did you?"  Perhaps a more sensitive parent would know better than to ask that.  Surely, if it had happened, Waverly would have included it in the good news.  But she was full of pride for her daughter.  She deserved the honor and it had been disappointing when Waverly didn't get it back at start of term.

It was so like Zora to gush little and interrogate further.  Althea had cautioned her about it, that one should just let good news be good news, but today Zora must have forgotten.

Waverly couldn't help but beam a little up at her mother, bright eyes sparkling and happy. She didn't like to admit it but praise from Zora stuck with her in a way that most other people's just didn't. It was, perhaps, because Waverly felt she constantly had to prove herself to the seasoned Auror. Logically she knew the woman would love her regardless, but her respect was earned. Althea was always proud of Waverly, proud of the kind of thoughtful person she was and she made no secret of it... with her other mother it often felt like she had to hit these bench marks to earn her love and respect.

When she was feeling particularly neglected or jaded about her life (which didn't actually happen as often as some people might have thought) Waverly was quite sure that she could save an entire burning building's worth of people and Zora would want to know why she hadn't grabbed the historic scrolls, or put the fire out before it even started. She always pushed for just a little bit more - no matter how well Waverly was doing. So at the Charms' inquiry the sixteen year old tried not to bristle too much though she was unable to keep her jaw from tightening. Never mind that the hardest grading Professor in possibly the history of Hogwarts, save Severus Snape had given her a bloody E, no that wasn't good enough. "Same, actually. I did really well on my midterm. Professor Kesali seems to like me".

Don't get mad, don't get mad; you know this is how she is, the mocha skinned girl was coaching herself silently when her mother pushed just a little bit too far. Suddenly the open affectionate posture she'd had shifted, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the opposite arm of the sofa. She could hear Althea in the back of her mind, every other time this had happened, explaining that it was just Zora's nature. It didn't make it okay, if anything it made it worse. Shouldn't she have learned after thirteen years of being Waverly's mother? Didn't becoming a mother mean to learned to adapt to your child's needs? It sure as bloody hell ought to have meant you didn't pour salt into wounds they already had. "Like I said, you weren't home before I left so I didn't tell you," she spat the words at her mother, nails curling slightly into her bare arms.

And the attitude emerged.  It came up from her tempestuous daughter with little provocation from time to time.  A snappy word and a skulk as if there weren't more important things to get into a knit about.  Honestly.

Zora's gaze hardened slightly as a warning.  "Come off it, Wave. I was just asking."

"Now," she said as she got up and went into the kitchen.  "Tell us about this animagus business, yes?"  She had to raise her voice so her words would carry back into the next room. She filled a kettle from the tap and the sound of rushing water momentarily interrupted her.  Then, "The Headmistress is helping you? That's an honor if I've ever heard one."

And it was back to business, it seemed.  Zora wanted to know more and even though Waverly had been passed over for prefect, being trained by the illustrious Headmistress Minerva McGongagall was nothing to scoff at.  Many would be jealous.

Waverly just glared at her mother's back. She hated that the other woman could put her in a snit over something so trivial as not being properly excited for the good news she had to share; but it wasn't really just about that moment. No, it was about all the other times, the little things that were meant to make Waverly work harder but sometimes made her question what she was working for at all because nothing would ever please Zora Roh. It was easy when comparing her life to say, Annie's, to think that she was really lucky to have her mothers. It was decidedly harder when she felt as though her mother had twisted a knife in her back.

She might have made some obscene gesture to the back of the elder witch, save for the fact Waverly really believed Zora had literal eyes in the back of her head. It was like she knew everything and nothing at the exact same time. Not feeling in a particularly sharing mood after the whole thing, or like yelling, she considered ignoring her mother's probing inquery before pushing off the couch and wandering into the kitchen. Her tall frame rested one shoulder against the doorway, arms still crossed over her chest, "I talked to her about it before Midterms. I explained that I transition well enough, there haven't been any awkward half sticks since I got serious about it last year; but I'm still not confident enough to not need to hold my wand when I do it. She just owl'd to say that she would be happy to mentor me. You know McGongagall, all business and to the point".

Zora didn't have to see Waverly to understand the momentary delay in joining her in the kitchen and responding.  But she wasn't going to indulge it.  The dear child would get over it, and Zora silently pledged to give her more space.  Things could go from light to dark in the blink of an eye over holidays.  The routine was changed, spaces were invaded, structure was dissolved.  Made for tension, it did.

The kettle was on and Zora turned and leaned against the counter.   

"Brava, dear thing," she praised with Slytherin green in her eyes.  "Take good advantage of that offer.  Can't come around frequently.  So let's see.  Show us your moves?"

She tried not to make it sound like a demand, but she was quite eager to see what her little witch had been working on.  Zora had never followed through with Animagus training - that type of work never was in her wandhouse.  But it was a stately, illustrious achievement that would only lead to good things.