One of my eyes slid open, and I stared at the clock. It was about six am, which meant that nobody else would be awake yet. I had specifically told Johannes and Sebastian not to make breakfast, and not to fix up the room Hermione and Ron were staying in. I stretched, and glanced down at the shirt I had chosen to wear as nightclothes. When I stood up beside the bed it became obvious just how small I was. George's shirt nearly reached my knees, and I had to roll the sleeves several times in order to have the use of my hands. I quickly buttoned the entire front of the shirt, and slipped quietly out of the room.
My feet made virtually no sound as I walked to the kitchen. Once inside, I began rummaging through the kitchen to find everything I needed to make pancakes. The silence of the kitchen bothered me, and I walked over to the muggle stereo that I had set on the counter. I stuck a mixed disc in, and turned the volume up as it began thumping out dance tunes from any and all eras. I stretched up on my toes, trying to reach the cabinet that held my largest mixing bowl and growled in frustration when my reach fell too short. My eyes narrowed, and I pulled myself up onto the counter and stood up, finally able to reach the bowl. After jumping back down to the floor, I began humming and dancing to the music as I began making the pancakes.
"What on earth are you listening to?" Ginny asked as she walked into the kitchen.
"American Muggle rock," I replied, as Steven Tyler wailed about an effeminate man. She giggled and listened.
"Dude looks like a lady?" she asked, and I grinned.
With a shrug, Ginny grabbed a coffee cup and poured herself a steaming cup. I smiled as she walked over to the table that was just past the actual kitchen and looked out through sliding glass doors over a beautiful smooth green lawn. She watched as I poured more patter into the skillet, and flipped the pancakes.
"So, your pajamas just aren't comfortable?" she asked with a smirk.
"Hmm, no, actually George has kind of destroyed most of my pajamas," I replied, she choked on her coffee, and I looked over curiously. "I couldn't find any of mine last night when I was looking. Why?" I asked innocently, and she shook her head, carefully taking another drink f her coffee.
I slid the last of the pancakes onto a platter and set them in the oven to keep warm while I began to dig through the rest of the kitchen looking for syrup, honey, powdered sugar, and jams. I glanced at the clock. It had taken me two hours to find everything and then actually make the pancakes.
"Ginny, would you make sure everyone is up?" I asked, as I began pulling out plates and silverware.
"Sure," she strode out of the kitchen.
While she woke everyone up, I began slicing and chopping fruit. I left some whole as well, not knowing how everyone liked to eat. I set everything out on the counters with a stack of plates, a pile of napkins, and a bunch of silverware. I was making my own plate when Ron walked in followed closely by Hermione. She smiled at me, and began making her own plate.
"Did your house elves do this?" she asked, glancing up at me.
"No," I replied calmly, as I turned and boosted myself onto the opposite counter to eat. "The table is just over there," I told Ron as I gestured with my fork. He nodded and barely sat down before he began shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate.
Hermione sighed and sat beside her husband, looking through the glass at my perfectly kept lawns and gardens. She glanced at me curiously, and I smiled.
"I hire Muggle gardeners," I informed her with a smile. "They're actually very good at what they do, and I rather like being able to walk out and get my hands dirty working with them."
"So, Mum just sent an owl to let us know there's a gala at the Ministry tonight, and the whole family has to go," Ginny said as she walked back in about ten minutes later. "Annabelle, your family can come as well if they would like." I smiled and shrugged, as George walked into the kitchen, looking just like the irritable, cantankerous man he was every morning that I didn't wait around in the bedroom for him to wake up.
"Morning, love." He looked over at me, and grunted unintelligibly, grabbing a plate to load up on whatever he could reach.
I watched as he set his plate on the table and ambled back over, looking for the coffee. Ginny hadn't had any trouble finding it, but everyone else so far had been unable to find it on his or her own. I hopped off of the counter and set my empty plate in the sink.
"Where is the goddamn coffee?" George finally bellowed, slamming his hand on the counter.
Rolling my eyes I walked calmly over to the coffeepot beside the refrigerator and reached up for one of the mugs hanging blow the cabinets. I poured him a cup, and turned around to find that he was standing only a few inches away from me, looking downright upset about something. Almost everyone had already left, and the two left in the kitchen suddenly decided that it was time for them to leave as well.
"You need to calm down," I said quietly, handing him the cup that I held.
I slipped around him, and made my way to the dishes that were still sitting on the counter. I began scraping excess food into the trashcans, and setting the empty plates in the sink. George grumbled something and stormed over to the table, where he began attacking his food with unnecessary violence. He seemed very angry about something, and I didn't have any idea what. What had I done to make him so angry with me?
"What's wrong?" I asked quietly when all of the dishes were in the sink waiting to be washed.
He shrugged, and I felt irritation rising in me at that point too.
"Fine," I said impassively, slamming my glass on the counter.
"Did you plan on mentioning this?" George asked suddenly, holding my invitation to the Gala at the Ministry that evening.
"I had forgotten about it until your sister mentioned it this morning," I replied coolly. "I hadn't been planning to attend."
He nodded, and dropped it back on the table.
"Of course now that I know your entire family will be there, I thought I would attend," I added calmly as I began to place dishes in the dishwasher.
"Dad asked me to take Susan Bones, the Minister's niece, as a favor," George said suddenly, looking up from his plate. I nodded.
"Sounds lovely," I responded. "If you don't mind, I need to go get dressed and run out to purchase an appropriate outfit for this evening."
At this point, I walked out of the kitchen and was halfway to the stairs when George's hand closed painfully around my wrist. I whirled around to face him in a rage. He looked just as angry.
"What's your problem?" I shouted.
"You're not even going to pretend to be upset that I'm taking someone else?" He demanded harshly.
"No!" I shrieked. "Why would I bother? Its not as if throwing a tantrum is going to change anything! You said you were taking Susan, so why would I waste time having a fit?" I demanded, jerking on my arm.
"Because I didn't say I would yet!" he shouted at me.
"That wasn't very clear in there just now!" I told him. I took a slow, deep breath. "Let go of me," I said in an even tone.
"Not until you tell me if you want to go with me," he said, staring at me.
"Are you really that thick?" I shrieked. "Of course I want to go with you!" At this point I tried to yank my wrist out of his grip again. "Let go of me!" I roared as I slapped him full across the face. He jerked and dropped my wrist.
I took the opportunity to turn and run upstairs, where I showered and dressed quickly. I was rushing down the stairs just as Hermione and Ginny were leaving their rooms, dressed and looking as if they were going out for new dress robes.
"So, what are you going to be wearing this evening?" I asked conversationally as we walked to the living room fireplace.
"Hmm, I was thinking about a new set of dress robes," Ginny commented thoughtfully. "How about you?"
"Oh, I was going to go for formal muggle clothes," I responded, with a smile. "I love the way that muggle gowns are designed to be worn without any sort of robe so that you can fully appreciate the gown itself."
Hermione smiled and nodded.
"Yeah…I wish Ron and I had the kind of money that I wouldn't feel guilty," she muttered quietly. "He said to get whatever I wanted, and I know that we could afford it, I just feel guilty spending so much on myself," she admitted.
"What if I pay for part of it?" I asked, with a grin. "Nobody has to know."