COMFORT ZONE | Sirius Black [REWRITING]

25. Start of Third Year

The girl was humming to herself with much better voice control than would be expected of a five-year-old. Today, her mother had allowed the curls of her hair to stay open, some of them tighter and others looser, the ends tickling the cotton shoulder of her lavender frock.

She liked herself like this.

There was a tall mirror in the nursery, and she had spent the past fifteen minutes looking at her reflection and making silly faces that made her little brother laugh in his cot, holding on to the railing for support and squatting up and down in delight as she stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes.

"Madda!" He squealed happily, still not having learnt how to say her nickname. He had learnt to walk, albeit a little unsteadily, a few weeks ago. Words would come to him sooner or later too.

Her hair tousled a little as a mildly cold March breeze blew in from the glass door opening out onto the roof terrace. It was a large rectangular area, with a walled barrier that was far too high for her to be able to peek over just yet and was dotted with pretty flower baskets in the corners. In the centre, there was a square-shaped cavity, lined with a tall and strong glass balustrade, which gave a view of the private cobbled courtyard below.

If she gazed through the glass, she would be able see into her mother's study through the panelled windows on the storey below, if the netted curtains weren't drawn, that is. Further down, on the ground floor, was the arched doorway to the conservatory, and the small central fountain which was surrounded by dozens of her mother's plants and shrubbery.

Even from inside the nursery, on the second floor, she could hear the quiet splashing and flowing of the fountain water; it was a soothing sound, of no rhythm or structure. She wished to be able to sing it somehow.

Turning away from the mirror, she began fiddling with the handles of the dresser drawers, her back turned to the cot. The top of her head barely peaked above the tall dresser, but she wanted to play with the toy owl which was perched upon it that she couldn't reach. Not having learned to control her magic yet, she could not call it to herself the way her mother could. A lady was supposed to start teaching her soon, but she didn't know when that would be.

An idea began to form in her little mind as she observed the drawers carefully.

A step ladder.

With a momentary glance to the door, the girl began to draw out the bottom drawer. Her mother had told her to keep an eye on her little brother as she needed to go to her father's study for a bit on the floor above, on the opposite end of the Manor; the house-elf had popped in between errands to check up on them too.

But the boy was just playing with a stuffed dragon toy now, and she reasoned that nothing would happen to him if she didn't watch him for a few minutes.

She drew the second drawer only halfway, and it was clear to see how the makeshift steps would look now. It was going to be a fiddly bit of work, but the girl was sure she could manage if she remained steady enough.