Princess; George Weasley

three

As I'm waking up, I can slowly hear things going on around me. Sizzling noises in the kitchen, and light chatter fill the air.

"I hope Claudia doesn't mind her eggs scrambled," jokes Minerva.

My eyes flutter open at the sound of my name. The sun is bright, and shining through the thin, white curtains. I look around the living room for the first time in proper light. The couch is a light, sage green and the pillow I was resting on is a pale yellow. The walls are the same gray color but the fireplace we came through is enormous. The red brick is rough in texture, and fairly new looking. The painting on the wall opposite of the window is empty for now. The subject must be visiting a different portrait.

I sit up, still half asleep. I can hear my fathers voice muttering something not too far away. I suddenly remember sending the owl. I hope my father isn't planning on sending anything yet this morning. I pray that his owl isn't too tired and is able to make a quick trip.

I walk into the aroma filled kitchen. Eggs, bread, and burned butter are the most dominant smells. Minerva is busy at the stove and my father is at a small, rounded table writing something rather urgently. I have a feeling in my gut that I won't get so lucky.

"Oh, Claudia!" Says Minerva, "I just finished making your breakfast. Don't get your hopes up... I'm not the best cook, you see."

I smile warmly, "anything goes, I'm not too picky."

My father looks up at me. He looks less stressed compared to last night. Leaving must've really been important to him.

"What were you doing out of your room?" He grumbles. He takes a sip out of his mug while waiting for my excuses.

"I couldn't sleep," I say, strongly, "I thought sitting by the fire would help."

He doesn't respond. Instead, he continues to write as I take my plate and sit. The warm eggs sitting on the toast makes me feel a little more relaxed. I glance over at my father but he's still focused on his letter. Who could he be writing to? I've noticed an increase in him sending letters but he doesn't start work for a few weeks. His eyebrows are furrowed in a concentrated stance as he goes back to dot off of his "i's." He goes to take another sip out of his mug but realizes it's empty.

He walks over to the screaming kettle and I take this as and opportunity to inform myself. I glance at my father quickly to make sure that both he and Minerva are occupied. Minerva is trying to scrape something out of the dirty pan, and he's pouring some hot water into the mug. I take a glance at the fresh paper.

I don't know what the future will hold with Sirius Black. His connection with the boy may change things for those who believe him to be alive.

"You know, Claudia..."

I quickly avert my eyes from the parchment when the attention is back on me. I look up to see Minerva turning around to look at me. Her gray, wispy hair is down this morning, but away from her face. "I don't think I got the chance to introduce myself."

I let myself relax for a moment before shaking my head. I wasn't caught, but I'm even more confused. Why was my father talking about Black? What did that have to do with him at all? Even at Ilvermorny, Sirius was a household name, and everyone knew his power. I know my fathers history in trusting the Dark Lord but surely he's not been associated with Sirius since he escaped. Even if he was, it would be out of character considering he ran to Professor Dumbledore mid-war.