Wallflower
Father
I went downstairs and into the kitchen where I knew Kreacher would be mopping, or cleaning something in a half assed fashion. He was much more dutiful when Father was still here, and now that Sirius was the man of the house, and his owner, he was much more rebellious and it was evident that Grandmother Walburga and her teachings had rubbed off onto him. He was just less vocal about his displeasure. Upon going through the door that separated the kitchen from the front hall, I saw that Kreacher was in fact hovering in a small corner, trying to look like he was doing something important. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were also there, as was Uncle. The men were sitting at the table and the lady was up and making what looked like tea and sandwiches.
With Authority in my voice I said, “Kreacher, could you take the luggage in the sitting room up to the owners respective rooms? You should know which ones go where.”
“Yes Mistress Black.” He said back to me, bowing before going to fulfill my wish. He, like Grandmother Walburga, greatly favoured me to Uncle Sirius. Kreacher had also picked up habits of referring to me as the mistress of the house, and spoke only to me in respectful tones. Uncle was the master of the house, but he didn’t mind having the house elf and his mother treat me as such, as he didn’t overly like to associate himself with the family anyway. But he loved me, and that’s all that mattered.
“Thank you Kreacher.” I said to him as he left, “Mrs. Weasley, is there anything I can do to aid you?” I offered. Ever the good little hostess and polite child that Grandmother and Father had raised.
“Heaven’s no Child, please just take a seat!” She gushed, “Let me get you a spot of tea, you’re looking a tad peaky.”
Mindful of my elders I took a seat near Uncle, nodding my head in his direction, then in Mr. Weasley’s direction. “Our guests have settled well in their respective rooms. Ginny on the second floor, and Ron, Fred and George on the third.” I said to my uncle. “However I fear that I may have gotten off on the wrong foot with Fred and George.” I said meekly. I wasn’t one to be a tattle tale, but I told my uncle everything regardless of the circumstances.
“Now why would you think that, Rose?” Uncle inquired. Mr. Weasley was reading the Daily Prophet but you could tell that his, and his wife’s, ears perked a bit at this part of the conversation.
“Well you see, we were getting acquainted and the topic of Hogwarts houses came up. Strange as it seems, they didn’t seem too fond that I was in Slytherin. Although I can only imagine why that would be, we don’t exactly have the best track record I would imagine and to them, my being a Black and all, they would see me as a Death Eater in training.” I explained in a logical tone.
At the counter I heard Mrs. Weasley’s preparing become harsher, and Mr. Weasley’s grip on the paper became a tad strained. The woman turned around with a forced smile and open arms as if inviting me for a hug and said, “Now Dear, don’t you work about what those boys of mine say. They don’t know what they’re talking about. You are a true diamond in the rough, you hear me? Just like your Uncle Sirius was.” She said and pinched my cheek affectionately before handing me a plate with a sandwich and a cup of tea and directing me back towards the table. Once I sat down I started in on the small meal that had been prepared and instantly began looking forward to the rest of the summer. Mrs. Weasley’s cooking far rivaled my own and Uncle’s, and Kreacher’s cooking was hardly anything to live on.
She smiled, taking note that I was enjoying the food before stepping out of the kitchen to call down her children. As the others came down the stairs and into the kitchen and everyone was served their lunch Mrs. Weasley sat down with her own helping and made sure to get everyone’s attention for a moment. “Now, children I’d like you to enjoy the rest of today, as tomorrow we’ll be helping clean the house from top to bottom. We are guests here, remember, and I would hate for us to seem rude to our hosts Sirius and his niece Carmine Rose.” She said as she looked pointedly at the twins.
After the meal I took the scraps up to the attic where Uncle kept Buckbeak. This is what I spent most of my days doing during the summer, as I usually stayed at the school for the breaks throughout the year. If I wasn’t with Buckbeak I was brewing potions, usually wolfsbane for Remus Lupin, as Uncle had advertised me to his school friend as a very talented potions mistress. He usually came by about a week before the full moon and stayed a day or two while I got his potion ready and we all caught up. Not that anything new ever happened here, Uncle was stuck in here unless he wanted to get thrown back into Azkaban or killed, and I had no friends or really anything else to do with my time other than keep my lonely uncle company.
Once dark had fallen on the house and I’d done spending time with the hippogriff in the attic I patted him a farewell and climbed down the ladder to the third floor. The house was all quiet except for the twins’ room, which was also the only room still emitting light from under the door. I paid no mind to it, and walked into my own room, changing into my night clothes and crawling into bed for the night. I was just about asleep when my american kestrel, Hunter, started rapping on the window to get out. Lazily I slid out of bed and opened the window for him, “Don’t forget to be back by morning, and don’t get hunted.” I said to him. He seemingly nodded, as if he understood me, and flew off. I’d gotten him as a gift from Father right before he vanished. Hunter was our last parting words in a way. Uncle escaped prison in the summer, and while Father and I were getting my school supplies in Diagon Alley he bought me the bird. This was the day before school was to start, and after he took me to the platform for the train I never saw or heard from him.
Even now thinking about him hurts, he was my father and I was very much a Daddy’s Girl. He nearly spoiled me rotten, while still teaching me how to be a proper woman and have humility and be able to work. Contrary to popular belief, my father wasn’t always a Death Eater and for that I am proud of him. He once was, yes, but he stood up to his master, and ran away. Part of why he chose to leave was because he knew that he couldn’t give me a happy life, and still follow such a man, and also because he tried to kill Kreacher. This loyalty is part of why Kreacher is so loyal to me, and why he treats me so well.
My father was able to live out many years hiding in plain sight as I like to think of it. He would heavily disguise himself whenever he went out, but to my knowledge they never caught him. I hope they still hadn’t, as I know what my father did when he left as well. With tears in my eyes I lay down in my bed once more, thinking back on the times I had with my father and before I knew it small, shallow sobs were escaping my throat as I longed to have him back with me.
With Authority in my voice I said, “Kreacher, could you take the luggage in the sitting room up to the owners respective rooms? You should know which ones go where.”
“Yes Mistress Black.” He said back to me, bowing before going to fulfill my wish. He, like Grandmother Walburga, greatly favoured me to Uncle Sirius. Kreacher had also picked up habits of referring to me as the mistress of the house, and spoke only to me in respectful tones. Uncle was the master of the house, but he didn’t mind having the house elf and his mother treat me as such, as he didn’t overly like to associate himself with the family anyway. But he loved me, and that’s all that mattered.
“Thank you Kreacher.” I said to him as he left, “Mrs. Weasley, is there anything I can do to aid you?” I offered. Ever the good little hostess and polite child that Grandmother and Father had raised.
“Heaven’s no Child, please just take a seat!” She gushed, “Let me get you a spot of tea, you’re looking a tad peaky.”
Mindful of my elders I took a seat near Uncle, nodding my head in his direction, then in Mr. Weasley’s direction. “Our guests have settled well in their respective rooms. Ginny on the second floor, and Ron, Fred and George on the third.” I said to my uncle. “However I fear that I may have gotten off on the wrong foot with Fred and George.” I said meekly. I wasn’t one to be a tattle tale, but I told my uncle everything regardless of the circumstances.
“Now why would you think that, Rose?” Uncle inquired. Mr. Weasley was reading the Daily Prophet but you could tell that his, and his wife’s, ears perked a bit at this part of the conversation.
“Well you see, we were getting acquainted and the topic of Hogwarts houses came up. Strange as it seems, they didn’t seem too fond that I was in Slytherin. Although I can only imagine why that would be, we don’t exactly have the best track record I would imagine and to them, my being a Black and all, they would see me as a Death Eater in training.” I explained in a logical tone.
At the counter I heard Mrs. Weasley’s preparing become harsher, and Mr. Weasley’s grip on the paper became a tad strained. The woman turned around with a forced smile and open arms as if inviting me for a hug and said, “Now Dear, don’t you work about what those boys of mine say. They don’t know what they’re talking about. You are a true diamond in the rough, you hear me? Just like your Uncle Sirius was.” She said and pinched my cheek affectionately before handing me a plate with a sandwich and a cup of tea and directing me back towards the table. Once I sat down I started in on the small meal that had been prepared and instantly began looking forward to the rest of the summer. Mrs. Weasley’s cooking far rivaled my own and Uncle’s, and Kreacher’s cooking was hardly anything to live on.
She smiled, taking note that I was enjoying the food before stepping out of the kitchen to call down her children. As the others came down the stairs and into the kitchen and everyone was served their lunch Mrs. Weasley sat down with her own helping and made sure to get everyone’s attention for a moment. “Now, children I’d like you to enjoy the rest of today, as tomorrow we’ll be helping clean the house from top to bottom. We are guests here, remember, and I would hate for us to seem rude to our hosts Sirius and his niece Carmine Rose.” She said as she looked pointedly at the twins.
After the meal I took the scraps up to the attic where Uncle kept Buckbeak. This is what I spent most of my days doing during the summer, as I usually stayed at the school for the breaks throughout the year. If I wasn’t with Buckbeak I was brewing potions, usually wolfsbane for Remus Lupin, as Uncle had advertised me to his school friend as a very talented potions mistress. He usually came by about a week before the full moon and stayed a day or two while I got his potion ready and we all caught up. Not that anything new ever happened here, Uncle was stuck in here unless he wanted to get thrown back into Azkaban or killed, and I had no friends or really anything else to do with my time other than keep my lonely uncle company.
Once dark had fallen on the house and I’d done spending time with the hippogriff in the attic I patted him a farewell and climbed down the ladder to the third floor. The house was all quiet except for the twins’ room, which was also the only room still emitting light from under the door. I paid no mind to it, and walked into my own room, changing into my night clothes and crawling into bed for the night. I was just about asleep when my american kestrel, Hunter, started rapping on the window to get out. Lazily I slid out of bed and opened the window for him, “Don’t forget to be back by morning, and don’t get hunted.” I said to him. He seemingly nodded, as if he understood me, and flew off. I’d gotten him as a gift from Father right before he vanished. Hunter was our last parting words in a way. Uncle escaped prison in the summer, and while Father and I were getting my school supplies in Diagon Alley he bought me the bird. This was the day before school was to start, and after he took me to the platform for the train I never saw or heard from him.
Even now thinking about him hurts, he was my father and I was very much a Daddy’s Girl. He nearly spoiled me rotten, while still teaching me how to be a proper woman and have humility and be able to work. Contrary to popular belief, my father wasn’t always a Death Eater and for that I am proud of him. He once was, yes, but he stood up to his master, and ran away. Part of why he chose to leave was because he knew that he couldn’t give me a happy life, and still follow such a man, and also because he tried to kill Kreacher. This loyalty is part of why Kreacher is so loyal to me, and why he treats me so well.
My father was able to live out many years hiding in plain sight as I like to think of it. He would heavily disguise himself whenever he went out, but to my knowledge they never caught him. I hope they still hadn’t, as I know what my father did when he left as well. With tears in my eyes I lay down in my bed once more, thinking back on the times I had with my father and before I knew it small, shallow sobs were escaping my throat as I longed to have him back with me.