An institute of knowledge

Untitled Part 2

The meeting room had a single plant in it as decoration, sitting on a locked cabinet shelf surrounded by an array of chairs and tables. Harry took a seat on the chair closest to the door, waiting as the two adults took their places and placing the book on the table. A single glance at it told Sirius that it was in Latin, judging by the heavily embossed words on the cover, and about Roman politics. Why his godson was reading that, he had no idea. Then again, this was a very old-fashioned school, by the looks of it. Maybe it was normal for students to be reading material like that at that age.
Draping himself across the chair beside Harry, leaving the other side for Minnie, he took a better stock of the Sterling Institute's uniform.

His jacket was spotless, and had the crest of the Institute attached onto his right breast pocket; a gothic skull with two white wings coming off the sides. A silver and gold line ran right underneath it.
On the other side of his jacket was a different crest, this one of a large, red R entwined with a black and purple feather. Underneath the patch were the words "For the pursuit of knowledge", stitched in with red thread.

The white shirt paired well with the dark blue wool of the jacket, and his pants, which were a solid black, were evenly pressed and very clearly well-cared for. Harry was missing a tie, which Sirius found odd, but the detail was disregarded when his eyes traveled down again, and he saw the custom-made pure-leather belt his grandson was wearing, which had thin strips of gold entwined with it, finishing off the entire 'old money' look with a platinum belt buckle that had the faint outline of the Institute's crest hammered into it.

Seeing as Sirius was clearly preoccupied with other things, Minerva took the wheel. "Harry..." she started. And then paused, realizing that her brain had to first decide which question to ask first. Buffering for a second, she restarted. "When did you come into Sterling?"

Harry looked strangely pleased about that. "When I was 10. Me and my cousin are among the 13 youngest to be accepted to the school,"Minerva frowned. Didn't muggle boarding schools only accept children who were 13 years of age or older?Before she could pursue that line of thought, Sirius, who had apparently 'rebooted', using a term she'd heard two first years in her house say, suddenly blurted out, "What's the patch for?"