In the Wizarding World, housework isn't an issue, it's done by the family's house elf, no questions asked. It's been this way for centuries, and I don't see why anyone would ever want it any other way. My mother has decided, against my will of course, that I should do the dirtiest of the housework, because she feels that I " need to realize the value of a hard day's work ".
Sure, because she knows so much about a hard day's work. The woman hasn't lifted a single finger to anything but count gold for at least twenty years.
Of course, being the good son that I am, I've chosen to take most of my chores in stride, not complaining once... or at least within her earshot.
I closed the bathroom door with a thud, letting out a sigh of relief as I realized that I'd just finished the last of my duties for the day. Actually, if my plan worked out accordingly, I'd just completed my chores for the entire summer. Although, all of that depended on whether James ever decided to answer my letter.
My mother had no idea of my plans to leave for the remaining days of summer vacation. I'm sure she couldn't care less that she wouldn't be seeing me, in fact, she'd only notice that I'd left when she saw that no one had removed the dishes from the table that night. Unless Kreacher actually chose to do his bloody job for a change, then my absence would go completely unnoticed. Which was fine by me.
I threw the filthy rag into the trash bin, as there was no way it would be any good for even one more scrub, not that anyone would pick it up after I left anyway.
I could smell the vague hint of grime that was no doubt coming from the ancient T-shirt I'd thrown on that morning. I quickly changed my destination from the living room, to my bedroom, where I'd have to dig through my unhealthy stack of shirts for one that could pass for clean.
My door was, as I'd expected, locked. I didn't trust Kreacher at all, and he'd seen the mess that I liked to keep my room. To say the least, it angered him that I was willing to disgrace the family name by doing such, and my parent's felt the same way. I didn't see the point in bothering me about it, because I'd made it quite clear that I wasn't planning on straightening it up. Besides, Regulus kept his room like a pig sty, but no one ever said a thing to him about it... though they never really got a chance, seeing as he was never around anymore.
" Alohamora. " The simple spell slipped from my mouth, as I held the tip of my wand to the door knob. I knew that if he wanted to, Kreacher could have very well come into my room, using that infamous house elf power that all of the things seemed to have, but it was forbidden for him to do so, so I figured I was safe.
My room was the only place in the house that was capable of holding any type of comfort for me, if only a little. It's familiar surroundings were as homey as the house ever got, but that was alright with me... it wasn't like this was my real home anyway.
The infamous pile of clothes sat just where I'd lelft it hours before, at the foot of my twin bed, stacked so that it was just about even with the mattress. I picked through it, sniffing at a few of the cleaner looking ones. Finally, I found one that would smell fine after a good scorgifying charm.
It didn't take me long to slip out of my old shirt, and into the new, but used navy blue one that I'd found. After a minute, I discovered that things could get pretty boring when you didn't have anyone to talk to, and embarrassingly enough, I found myself standing in front of my full length mirror, that was standing unsteadily against my dusty bookshelf.
It never ceased to amaze me that so many girls found themselves inthralled by my looks, not that I'm complaining, it was just odd. I didn't find myself incredibly attractive, yet the good majority of the people that mattered did. Just because I didn't understand the fact however, didn't stop me from using it to my advantage. I'd kissed so many girls the year before that I lost count, and this year, I planned on breaking that record.
Running a hand through my pitch black hair, I watched it fall back into it's place... directly in front of my eye. I was never able to get that strand out of my face, but it didn't seem to bother anyone else, so I didn't fuss with it too much.
There was a soft pecking noise from the window, and I quickly turned to face it. I felt a jolt of excitement at the site of Esme, Mrs. Potter's owl, sitting on the window sill, her wings ruffling impatiently. I bounded over, nearly tripping on the shirt I'd dropped in the middle on the floor. It took a bit of effort to shuve the window open, but I finally got it, and Esme didn't hesitate to fly in, landing on the edge of my mirror, which rocked dangerously under the light weight of her .
" Please tell me you're the barer of good news, Es. " I muttered, walking over to the bird, which had obediantly stuck out the leg that had a tiny scroll of parchment attatched to it. I gave myself only about two seconds to unfold the parchment, and even less time to read it.
It's a go, ready when you are.
I grinned, tossing the parchment carelessly into the trash bin that was on the floor, next to the unnecissarily large desk that I'f "inherited" from my father. IN reality, he'd needed some place to store the thing, while he recieved his new one, being to stingy to ever sell something as expensive as this desk undoubtedly was.
My trunk was already half-way packed, and I pulled it out from under mt bed, throwing dozens of the shirts from the pile on the floor into it. I was hoping the Mrs. Potter would wash them for me, if not... Merlin help anyone you had the burden of sitting within a ten foot radius of me.
The lock of my trunk barely made a sound as I clicked it shut, pulling it up right, while dragging it over to the fireplace that sat in the corner of my room.
I hated this house with a passion, but I couldn't deny the conveniance of the well placed hearth. I suppose my family's wealth was good for something.
The clay pot of floo powder was almost empty, merely because I was too lazy to replenish it, but that didn't matter now anyway. As long as there was enough to get me to James' that's really all that mattered.
There was, though I had to scrape the bottom with my finger tips, I did manage to gather enough that would get me there. I lit the fire with my wand, mispronouncing the elementary spell once in my excitement. Flames grew higher by the second, and after they reached the appropriate hieght, I threw the floo powder in, watching the orange and amber flames turn emerald.
I squeezed my trunk in beside me, after stepping into the flames. The feeling was pleasant, but I knew I had to speak up fast before the Floo Network closed on me, since I didn't exactly put the standard amount of powder into them.
" Fourteen thirty-nine Tessel Lane! " I stated clearly, not having enough fuel to afford saying it wrong.
Just then, the little visual of my room I had after stepping into the fire place, was replaced my green flames that kept me from seeing any thing at all. I'd grown accustom to the spinning, and didn't let it effect me in the least. There were a few times where I saw random rooms flash for less than a second in front of me, but nothing stayed longer than that.
I've never been very patient, but my problem seemed to elivate wihen I was waiting to arrive at the Potter's.
Speaking of which, the scene of another living room appeared in front of me, this time it stayed, and I felt myself become stationary at last. The sight of the brown love seat before was enough to make me laugh in relief. I practially skipped out of the brick fireplace, dragging the trunk behind me.
The living room was empty, and I took a minute to take it in. It had been a while since I'd been there... almost a year a least. Everything looked the same, hardly anything had been moved since my last visit, which didn't surprise. As much as I loved her, Mrs. Potter was bit of a pack rat.
" I'm home! " I shouted, singing the last note. No one said anything, and I didn't hear anyone in the dining room ahead. It was then that I noticed that the backdoor was open, letting the sunlight flood into the dimly lit kitchen, which was attatched to the dining room.
The linoleum floor squeaked beneath my sneakers, as I let my trunk drop to the ground and ran for the open door.