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ENOCH wakes to the smell of cleaning products. He frowns softly to himself, curling up under his blankets in an attempt to escape the smells. Howie grunts when he's bumped, but quickly adjusts to the movement. The brunet doesn't know why they would be cleaning; he isn't aware of any potential visitors that are supposed to be coming today. But he knows it's not a normal clean, the smells tell him it's the type of clean reserved for guests the family isn't entirely comfortable enough with to let them see the house in its normal state. Not that their house isn't normally clean—at least not to Enoch. Magic makes it easy to keep on top of the small things.
The soft sounds of music float through the air, accompanied with the quiet scuffle of feet. Enoch knows he'll be up soon. He wants to continue sleeping, but the sounds of life will draw him from the warm blankets soon enough. Attempting to keep sleeping when he knows everyone else is up always make him feel lazy, like he should be up and doing something even if he knows full well he's only going to end up migrating to the couch.
Sure enough, he's up in the next minute. He grabs the nearest shirt lying on the floor and pulls that over his head as he leaves his room. Howie stutters around his feet, before running off. There's a quiet "Bonjour, Howie," from Odeda. As Enoch enters, he spots his dad sitting on the couch, newspaper in hand, and instantly makes a beeline for him. Alistair doesn't even look up from his paper, though he lifts it slightly, as his son plonks himself down on the couch. Enoch spreads himself out, resting his head on his father's lap. The paper drops back down, so Enoch can just read it if he turns his head enough. He doesn't, staring up at Alistair instead.
"Have a good sleep?" Alistair asks, turning the page of his newspaper. Enoch hums an affirmative response, shuffling slightly.
"You guys woke me up though."
"Sorry, kiddo." Alister chuckles softly. He lets go of newspaper long enough to ruffle the brunet's hair. "We have a guest coming over for dinner. Your mother likes to keep things neat for work guests."
"Who is it?"
"Remus Lupin. You haven't met him." Enoch nods in agreement. The name isn't familiar to him at all.
"We invited him over for dinner before but he's been busy." Odeda adds as she enters the room, a barrage of enchanted cleaning equipment following her. They quickly set to work on the living room with a few flicks of the wand. A duster wafts over to the pair, purposefully dusting Enoch's nose on the way past. Odeda laughs as Enoch sneezes, making it nearly impossible for Alistair to read the paper. After a few more pages, barely read as the pages shake in his hands, the older man folds the paper up and puts it down. Once the brunet calms, his father's hand settles on the top of his head, fingers running absentmindedly through his curly hair.
