It was a quiet afternoon, and Ailsa, her eyes bright with enthusiasm, had an idea she had been mulling over for days. With determination, she approached Antonin, who was sitting in his favorite chair, absorbed in a thick book of magic.
“Dad!” she called, her voice so full of energy that he looked up immediately, surprised. “I have a great idea. I want us to make a family portrait. One that includes all of us, even you and Father. What do you think?”
Antonin blinked, taking in her suggestion. The idea of a portrait had never crossed his mind, but seeing the excitement on Ailsa’s face, it seemed not only charming but a reflection of everything they’d built together at Dolohov Manor.
“A portrait?” he repeated, a warm smile forming. “I like the sound of that, Ailsa. How about we arrange it for this afternoon? We could find a nice spot in the garden.”
Ailsa practically jumped with excitement, her eyes sparkling as if she’d just witnessed the best spell.
“Yes, absolutely! I’ll go tell everyone!” she exclaimed, dashing off down the hallway, determined to gather the family for this mission.
As Ailsa hurried around the house, Antonin imagined that some, like Callum and Barty, would be thrilled with the idea, while others, like Ronan, might need a little extra encouragement. Within minutes, Ailsa had assembled everyone in the sitting room, where the children looked at Antonin and Regulus with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
“What’s going on here?” Callum asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
“We’re going to make a family portrait,” Ailsa announced confidently. “Something we can look at and remember all our time together. It’ll be fun, I promise it won’t take too long!”
Ronan crossed his arms with a skeptical expression, frowning as if he wasn’t convinced this would be as fun as promised.
“Fun? Doesn’t sound like it at all,” he grumbled, looking around for anyone who might agree.
Antonin patted him on the shoulder, leaning closer with an encouraging smile. “Come on, Ronan. It doesn’t have to be so serious. Besides, you’ll be an important part of the memory for all of us,” he added with a wink.
But it was Regulus, with his calm and persuasive tone, who managed to soften Ronan.
“It’s just a portrait, Ronan. You can even stand in the back if you prefer to avoid the spotlight.”
Ronan shot Regulus a sideways look, clearly still doubtful, but finally nodded silently, unwilling to be the only one left out.
Led by Ailsa, everyone headed to the back garden, where a blooming vine and a strong old tree created the perfect backdrop. They set up a bench for the younger ones at the front, while the older kids and adults stood behind. Ailsa’s vision for the portrait was pristine in her mind; the reality, however, was far from it.
The first attempt at posing was, to put it mildly, chaos. Ailsa, as the self-appointed director of the portrait, tried to organize everyone with gestures and little commands. But Callum, being Callum, couldn’t resist pulling exaggerated faces and stretching his features in all kinds of ways, setting off Barty into fits of laughter so strong he nearly fell off the bench. Ronan, standing to the side, tried to stay serious as though he were the only adult among a bunch of children, but a small smile played at his lips.
Antonin exchanged a glance with Regulus, who seemed to be enjoying the disorder. With a slight nod, Regulus signaled him to let the kids express themselves, which led Antonin to relax his shoulders and watch the scene with a mix of resignation and affection.
“Come on, Callum, do you think you can keep a normal face for a few minutes?” Antonin teased, trying to keep a straight face.
“I am normal, Dad,” Callum replied, striking an exaggeratedly serious pose, though his eyes sparkled with mischief.
After several tries and everyone finally finding their place, they started to pose. But just as Ailsa was about to capture the perfect moment, Noah accidentally bumped into Barty, who couldn’t resist making a joke. Playful shoves flew as Regulus and Antonin tried, with little success, to calm the group.
“Barty! Stop pushing your brother!” Antonin warned, trying to restore order.
Barty shrugged, giving Noah an innocent yet slightly mischievous smile. “I was just helping him find his best angle,” he replied, laughing as Noah nudged him back.
After a few laughs, some teasing, and regaining their composure, the kids took their places again. This time, Ronan was at the front, looking at everyone with an expression somewhere between amused and uncomfortable.
“Ailsa, don’t forget to tell us when you’re actually going to start the portrait,” Antonin called out, raising his voice a bit to be heard.
“Alright! But I need everyone ready this time,” Ailsa warned, pointing at them with her finger, attempting to look authoritative, though the glimmer in her eyes gave her away.
Finally, after a few more attempts and even more interruptions, they managed to find enough calm for Ailsa to begin painting the portrait. She concentrated on capturing everyone’s spirit in her strokes, with Regulus beside her, watching proudly.
Ronan, who had initially been reluctant, eventually let his expression soften and looked noticeably less tense in the painting. Callum couldn’t resist and ended up making a subtle face, while Barty, though he kept a calm expression, had a spark in his eyes that reflected his personality.
When Ailsa finally finished, everyone gathered around to see the result. It was as imperfect as it was authentic—a reflection of what their family truly was: chaotic, fun, but also united and full of love. The laughter, little arguments, and jokes of that afternoon had all been captured in each brushstroke, in every look and gesture.
“Well, here we are,” Regulus remarked, looking at the portrait with a serene smile. “Our little, peculiar family.”
Antonin placed a hand on Ailsa’s shoulder, silently thanking her for the idea. As the kids gazed at the portrait with bright eyes, as if they’d just witnessed a bit of everyday magic, Antonin felt that the painting, despite its simplicity, perfectly represented what they were—a family, with all their imperfections and differences, yet deeply united.
