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Chapter Twelve The Art of James Potter
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Upon entering the Great Hall, Florence scanned the Gryffindor table for the familiar head of her sister. Seated towards the middle section and across the blonde head of Roman Diggory, Davina ate her usual breakfast: oatmeal coated with almonds, pumpkin seeds, and banana.
Florence walked towards them and sat beside her sister. A devious smile crossed her lips as she asked, "And how is Mrs. Potter doing this fine morning?"
Davina scoffed at her remark while Roman snorted in the midst of eating her cereal. "Very funny, Flo."
"You flatter me," Florence winked at her sister. "But seriously, how is dating Potter? I heard from June, who heard from Gale McKinnon, who heard from her sister Marlene, who heard from Sirius Black, that you came back to your common room pretty late last week from the party."
Davina's eyes slowly widened at the explanation her sister gave and shook her head "N-no, no! You shouldn't listen to everything you here, Flo."
Roman titled her head curiously, "Wait, I dreamt that you came in late! That wasn't a dream! DJ, you told me it was a dream."
"So you did!" Florence gasped. "DJ, you didn't—"
"Nothing happened!" Davina said in frustration. "We just talked."
"Yeah sure," Florence said with a scoff and eating a strawberry from a bowl before her. "June and I always talk. I'm sure you and Potter also have some very interesting conversations."
Davina choked on her food at the insinuations her little sister had promptly said. Florence laughed at her reaction, leaving to find June and Grayson. "Florence!" Davina scolded her in shock as she rushed away.
Roman was practically rolling with laughter at the scene the Covey sisters had just performed. "The brat is actually pretty funny," Roman said as her laughter settled.
"A real riot," Davina said with a roll of her eyes.
Suddenly, the familiar joys of owls overwhelmed the chatter of the Great Hall. Davina smiled as a letter landed before her, given to her by her mother's owl, Belle. She opened the letter to read her weekly check-in and smiled at the thought. Then she realized something.
She hadn't told her mother about James.
Davina figured Florence would have told her mother they were by now, but she supposed the youngest Covey had other things in mind. Still, she wondered how her mother would react — that is, whether Davina told her the truth or not. And at this point, she doubts she would ever be able to tell anyone the truth.
