The Cannons

Sunday Morning Breakfast

Aurora's POV

Aurora Walker awoke late that morning, her usual early-rising routine disrupted. The clock on her bedside table read 9:30 AM. Her mind groggily stirred to life as the late-fall sunlight streamed through the open window, spilling across the wooden floors. A crisp breeze crept into the room, its sharpness a clear reminder of the season's shift. Aurora shivered as the cold kissed her cheeks, pulling her out of her warm cocoon of blankets.

"Sunday," she realized with a start, her eyes widening as she sat up abruptly. Sunday mornings were reserved for her weekly breakfast with her friends, a ritual she treasured. The thought of being late spurred her into action.

With quick, hurried movements, she darted into the bathroom, the cold tiles beneath her feet waking her further. Her toothbrush buzzed as she brushed her teeth, foam splattering the sink as she worked quickly, her mind racing ahead to the day. Her wand was perched nearby, and with a simple flick, her hairbrush glided through her tangled hair, smoothing it with effortless grace. "Thank Merlin for magic," she muttered under her breath.

Aurora dressed quickly in usual Sunday attire: a long, black, ankle-length dress that hugged her curves and provided much-needed warmth. She paired it with thick wool socks and sturdy black boots. Her dark green sweater, a gift from Pansy, complimented her Slytherin roots, and the soft fabric brought a bit of comfort as she readied herself for the day ahead.

She glanced at the clock, her stomach sinking. The bus to Muggle London would be arriving soon, and she'd have to hurry. The bus was always a necessity on Sundays. Since they had begun frequenting Muggle restaurants a few years back, magical transport was out of the question. Because her friends were all well-known figures in the wizarding world, the constant stares and whispers whenever they dined at magical establishments had become unbearable. People often treated them as if they were making evil plans.

The Muggle restaurant they now visited—The Red Ram—was a quaint, family-owned eatery nestled just on the outskirts of London. With its charming brick facade and large bay windows, it was the perfect retreat from the prying eyes of the wizarding world.

On the bus, Aurora's mind wandered. Today wasn't just any Sunday brunch—she had difficult news to share with her friends. She'd been let go from her job at the small medical wizard's office, where she'd worked since earning her healer's license. The financial constraints had been beyond her control, but the loss stung like a failure, a wound she wasn't ready to discuss. She dreaded her friends' reactions, especially since they all seemed so settled in their careers.

As the bus meandered through the bustling Muggle streets, Aurora pulled her coat closer, trying to steel herself for the conversation that lay ahead. The Red Ram came into view, its familiar charm easing some of her anxiety. The restaurant, with its bright red door and friendly atmosphere, always made her feel at home, and the sight of her friends seated at their usual round table outside helped her breathe a little easier.

Even in the crisp air of late September, they insisted on sitting outside. She knew these people well, and still, every week, she was surprised to find their outfits always formal for such a low-key breakfast spot. Pansy Parkinson, always the epitome of elegance, stood as Aurora approached. Her long black coat, coupled with the dark magenta turtleneck underneath, gave her a royal ambiance. "Aurora! We were starting to think you'd abandoned us!" Pansy's voice was warm, her tall figure embracing Aurora with genuine affection. The difference in their heights—Pansy's towering 5'9" against Aurora's 5'5"—did nothing to diminish the intimacy of the hug.

"You couldn't possibly leave me with them," Pansy joked, gesturing toward the three boys who were engrossed in an animated discussion, oblivious to Aurora's tardiness. "They've been droning on about Quidditch all morning. It's completely mind-numbing."