 Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Mrs. Charlie Weasley | Seneca's Beard | That's So Fetch
Archie was feeling all the feels right now. He was excited to be at the camp. Quidditch was in his blood, according to Papa MacKenzie, which meant he was basically a pro already. But he was also super nervous. Papa MacKenzie was a Quidditch god, and there was this weird feeling in the six-year-old boy's stomach that he was going to be a total flop ... or maybe he needed to use the loo. Either way, the thought of falling off his broom and face planting right into the ground in front of everyone made his cheeks want to turn redder than his hair.
But here he was with Papa MacKenzie, who was giving him brief words of encouragement before trailing off to talk about his glory days. He was only half listening to his grandfather. The rambling speech had been heard so many times by now he could recite it word for word.
Then suddenly he was brought in to a hug before being on the receiving end of the Hot Scot grin and twirled around by the shoulders. From where he was standing, he could see adults and a couple kids out on the pitch. Archie then looked over his shoulder and noticed he was now all alone. Taking in a deep breath and hoping that his breakfast stayed where it was meant to be, he made his way over to the group that was forming.
"Hi," he said to the other boy and the tutu girl, ignoring the fact that they probably didn't want to talk to him because they were older ('cause three whole years was WAY older). "I'm Archie. Archie MacKenzie." Did he just get cool points? Or should be not have said his last name because now they'd expect great things from him? Oh, Merlin...
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