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real deep cleaning 🦋✨📘🪄
ELECTRA HADN'T WANTED TO GET OUT OF BED THAT MORNING. She was tired of the hallways of Grimmauld Place. She missed the beach, her room, her books, her bed, the way the wind swept across the cliffs ruffling trees and her hair as she stood on the edge, sand between her toes and salty water swilling around her legs. She missed the yellow of the walls Clara picked out, and the decorations that made it home along with the photos of her family. Electra could tell that Millie missed it too, she seemed restless in Grimmauld Place, not enough mice.
Electra wished she could go home.
She spent the entire year waiting to go home and she didn't get enough of it, she was in a stuffy host full of dust in London. So she was pissed. Why did they need to be here?
And to rub salt in her wound here Iris was fitting so seamlessly and her Electra was. Not doing that. She tried a bit at first, but summer was supposed to be just her and Iris not her and Iris with fifty other people like it always was, an exaggeration it's Iris and forty other people wouldn't want to mischaracterise it.
She tried a bit, it's hard to find something to say or she can't say it or can't say it loud enough. So Electra resigned herself to her fate and spent her summer with the Brontë sisters instead, they did all the talking.
Electra didn't allow herself the possibility that Harry's arrival would change anything, even though she watched out for it. He knew everyone of the teenagers well, he'd hang out with them. He probably only wrote to her that summer cause no one else was, that was most likely it. Maybe if Electra asked she could go and stay with Luna, but then she'd miss her dad. Avery then, because sure Avery was here often, sometimes spent the night but she wasn't here twenty four seven. And at least she lived nearer where there was something to do. Near a bookshop.
Maybe she should ask. Or just go. She was fifteen, she could just go out somewhere.
Electra was taken from her contemplation and staring down at the page of her book by the sound of a door opening in front of her. She looks up to see Sirius stepping out of his bedroom, a bloody sack in his hand, "Shouldn't you be helping clean?" he asks after spotting her there.
"Shouldn't you?" Electra responds.
"I've got to feed Buckbeak," Sirius lifts up the sack as proof.
"Oh," Electra realises, hoping he'll leave and she can go back to reading her book.
Sirius seems to consider leaving her to her book for a few seconds, stepping to the top of the stairs before turning back to Electra, "Come on, Deveraux, give me a hand," he beacons.
