For The Greater Good

Chapter Two

I wake up in a haze of morning sun shining through my window. I blink, sit up, and rub my eyes. A yawn escapes me as I stretch, the large sleeves of my nightshirt falling down to my elbows. I kick my legs out over the side and stand up. I slip my feet into my slippers and creak down the stairs following the delicious smell of breakfast. Smells like Mother must be baking something.

The sight of Aberforth bustling around the kitchen instead of Mother is jarring. She would flick ingredients about the kitchen with a wave of her hand while still insisting to cook it without magic, insisting that it tasted better. Aberforth, however, does everything without magic. One of the many ways he goes too far to keep Ariana comfortable. Ingredients obey gravity, and our large wooden spoons are put to heavy use.

I quietly slide into my seat at the table across from Ariana. She gives me an empty smile as I realize with a start that she's wearing one of Mother's dresses. It's a soft pale blue dress that falls at her shins. Mother wore it often enough that I notice it's been recently altered it to fit her better, the neckline has been brought in with small uneven stitches. I turn around to look at Aberforth to see him in his best shirt, bright white and sharply pressed. His navy blue suit vest and dress robes are folded neatly over the back of his chair.

"Did you forget?" Aberforth notices me looking as he scrambles eggs in a dented copper pan. Mother's funeral. My stomach sinks like a rock. I don't know how I forgot. I've been trying to forget, but It's been at the back of my mind since I got the letter.

"I'll be right back," I grumble back up the stairs. I remove my nightshirt and loose trousers, tossing them onto a pile on my bed. I dig though my drawers to find my nicest shirt at the bottom. I run my wand over everything to pull the wrinkles out, then pull it on and button up the cuffs and collar. I put on my white socks and nice navy breeches. I have to find where I put my suit vest and dress robes. They match Aberforth's, the same navy blue, Mother made that unfortunate decision when the ministry tried and failed to bring back the Triwizard Tournament before my fifth year. She got so excited at the prospect of us having to go to a formal dance that she bought the best dress robes she could afford.

I fold the vest and robes over my arm and climb back downstairs. I drape them over the back of my chair as Aberforth sets three plates of scrambled eggs and pumpkin pasties on the table.

We eat in silence.

The pumpkin pasties aren't as good as Mothers.

An old barn owl interrupts us, dropping a hastily sealed letter in my lap and attempting to steal the last bit of my egg. I shoo it away from my plate and open the letter.

"What does it say?" Ariana asks.

"It's from Aunt Honoria, she says that she won't be able to stay for the entire week as planned, something important in the Improper Use of Magic Office. But she's dropping off casseroles," I push the owl away from my plate again. I flip the letter over and find a post script of her telling me to feed the bird. I sigh and let it eat the last of my egg before it flies off.

Aunt Honoria our only living relative. Supposedly unmarried with no kids, so we're the last of the Dumbledore line. She's our fathers sister and I have no idea why she's kept in contact with us.

"I don't remember her working in the ministry," Aberforth comments.

"Maybe she got a job," I shrug, getting up to put my dishes away. I return to my chair and unfold the vest, slipping it on over my shirt, while Aberforth and Ariana clean up their plates. Ariana sits back down, playing with her golden hair while my brother and I pull on the rest of our dress robes. Both glowering at the fact that we match. I half consider changing the color from navy to a rich plum. It's the simple multicorfors charm but he would probably hate me more.