𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 / 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒 / 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐖𝐒

𝟎𝟑 - 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟗𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓

You awoke the next morning to the pleasant sound of birds twittering outside your half-open window. Rain from the night before made the air thick and wet, but light still filtered in through your thin curtains and sent delicate beams of morning sun across your pillows. 

You were tempted to lay there for a few more hours, basking in the peacefulness of the early morning, before you realized with a glance at your bedside clock that it wasn't morning at all. In fact, it was almost noon.

Kicking back the blankets, you rummaged through your bedside drawer for a letter that Narcissa had sent you a little over a week ago via her family's owl. You saved it in anticipation for this day. It was an invitation to accompany the three girls on a last-minute trip to Diagon Alley before school started. You had been instructed to meet up with them today inside the entrance of the alley around twelve-thirty, but it was just now creeping on twelve.

"Rats," you mumbled to yourself, padding across the stone floor of your room to the closet and rifling around for something appropriate to wear. "Rats, rats, rats."

After dressing yourself and running a brush through your hair, you stopped and noticed that the house was suspiciously quiet. You knew that father usually left for work around nine and your mother attended her garden-club meetings at the neighbor's for roughly the entire day, but James usually did a fantastic job of filling the silence. Especially if he had Sirius there to assist him.

For the briefest moment, you wondered if the big black dog on your porch had just been a trick of the mind. Perhaps Sirius had never actually arrived at your doorstep last night and that seeing him had just been an extension of one of your recent strange and unexplainable dreams. 

But then, just as you opened your door and stepped out into the hallway, your doubtful thoughts were cast aside with the loud crash of ceramic splintering against the kitchen floor.

"Nice one, Prongs."

"Shove off, Padfoot."

You had to bite back a giggle as you started the descent down the grand staircase toward the first-floor kitchen. You didn't have much time to spare before you were expected in Diagon Alley, but you wanted to grab a quick breakfast before retreating upstairs to access the Floo Network from the fireplace in your father's study. If you hurried, you could be back before either James or your parents knew you were even gone.

It wasn't that you felt the need to hide away in the shadows of your own home. Rather, James had been acting extremely strange lately. He and your father often left the dinner table early to discuss private matters in his study under the guise of hushed tones. No amount of begging got you any closer to knowing what dangers were afoot in the wizarding world. But one thing was for certain; leaving the house was strictly frowned upon if you ever found yourself under the watchful eye of your big brother.

As you approached the arched entrance of the kitchen, you drew your wand and pressed your back flat against the wall. You could hear the boys still quarreling happily just on the other side of the doorway and you hoped that James' mishap with whatever dish he had broken would serve as enough of a distraction to let you discreetly Accio a slice of toast across the countertop.

"Accio," you whispered as quietly as you could, raising your wand from your side to whisk it once through the air. You smiled in triumph as the slice of toast you had been eyeing on the countertop shifted in place before hovering inches in the air. To drive it closer to you, you dragged your hand backward and watched as the toast began floating in your direction.

The boys, still laughing amongst themselves, seemed none the wiser as you slowly reached in through the doorway to grab it out of the air. But before you could drop it into your open hand, it was snatched out of the air in front of you.