Daisy's father said, and she herself agreed, that the Weasleys were one peculiar bunch.
They weren't as affluent, sociable, and affable as her other neighbours. They never came to the local kids' birthdays, they never invited the local kids to their...
AT FIRST, SIRIUS couldn't see the difference between Daisy and other teenagers that the Weasleys had told him before.
Now he could.
Or maybe he could because he used to be surrounded by barbaric children such as himself and his Marauder friends, in a dormitory full of daring to the point of foolish boys. Daisy contrasted herself deeply with any childish trait he had known and experienced back when he was seventeen.
She woke up very early in the morning to pour herself a cup of her self-made spice tea and opened up the windows, letting the cold breeze to refresh the vicinity.
The first three days, she cleaned every room in the house while she waited for Sirius to wake up (nearly noon) and managed to collect a box full of trinkets their guests had left behind.
(Including Mundungus' note of his next black market trade, which Sirius had kept in case he needed to blackmail him someday)
Now out of room to clean, she resorted to dusting the books in the library. She asked for his permission to read some and he told her to burn them all if she wanted to.
A statement she merely replied with a disapproving look.
She also asked if she could move some furniture and ended up having her own private little study. A wing chair from the second floor's drawing room —God knows how the limping girl had it carried downstairs by herself— and a tall drink table she had found abandoned in the dining room's closet were placed by the window.
Sirius would found her sitting there reading, with her legs gracefully posed in a Duchess slant and the sun casting natural light onto her nearly healed skin. A cup of tea was placed beside a crystal jar filled with wildflower bouquet on the table. She had picked them up right by 12 Grimmauld Place's doorway, so she didn't actually venture off the house.
And he would offer to keep her tea consistently warm with his magic.
No loud shrieks. No mess. No tardiness. No laziness. No need for him to shake her awake and get her to move around.
In fact, she acted more like the adult around here.
The Weasleys were right —she was endearingly eccentric.
Yeah, those were the words.
There was one special thing he noticed about her that he appreciated very, very much, though.
Whenever he show up to greet her first thing in the morning, she would stop whatever she was doing and ask him what he would like to do for the day. His opinion never mattered much around here, be it for his family or for the Order. Until now.
"Flower!" Sirius hollered, tossing the half-burnt pancake around the pan, "Breakfast!"
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