pøa: arrival of the birds

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~ the cinematic orchestra, london metropolitan orchestra

Welcome back :)

"Sirius Black"

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(Y/N)'s POV

I love Anika. But how can she put up with me?

I ask myself this question just about every morning when I make fun of her cooking.

"No, no, you're doing it wrong," I said as I rushed over from behind my barstool over to Anika who was cooking eggs.

"How?" she exclaimed. "I'm doing everything you've told me to do!"

"No, no," I said, as I questioned how one could possibly make scrambled eggs wrong. "You put the cheese right before it's just finished."

"Ohhh," said Anika in realization.

"Shall I?" I offered. I didn't want another day of burnt eggs with no cheese for breakfast.

"Go for it, I give up. I don't even know how I manage while you're away at Hogwarts!" she said, sitting down at her barstool, watching me cook.

"Speaking of which, I think I'm supposed to be getting my Hogwarts letter today," I said, as I was looking at Anika with dazzling eyes, almost as if I were asking for something. I was of course, though.

"What do you want?" Anika insisted.

"To know if I can borrow your owl for a little while?" I asked lightly.

"Hoots, is his name, and what for?" she said. I never called Anika's owl buy his name, we didn't exactly have the best relationship, all because I almost strangled him when I was about eight.

"Well, Harry's birthday is tomorrow and I thought it might be nice if I sent him something," I said, looking at Anika hopefully.

She looked at me for a moment, as if she needed to decide until she said at last, "Of course you can," said Anika. "But he's getting old, so maybe you should tell him to stay the night to rest before his journey back."

"Okay," I said, knowing that would be easy.

Anika began reading the Daily Prophet as I continued cooking. I never really liked that newspaper. I have a bad feeling about it, seeing as Fudge cares more about that newspaper's point of view than the Wizarding World's.

"(Y/N)!" Anika exclaimed, almost making me drop the pan as I was cleaning it.

"What," I said breathlessly.

"It's this your friend?" asked Anika. "Weasley?"

"Ron?" I said, hurrying over to her, hoping nothing bad happened to him.

"Look," said Anika, shoving the newspaper into my face.

I looked at the newspaper and read it furiously:

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE
SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet,"We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."
The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.

Below was a picture, a moving photograph as most pictures on the Daily Prophet were. I saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at me standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tall, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didn't show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers, on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around Ginny.

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