Drying her hands on the dishrag, Cecilia went to go find a leaf or a piece of parchment she could Transfigure into the paper they could use to wrap the fish in. She stopped with a jerk, her eyes wide as she took in Sirius' outburst, torn between walking away and giving him a piece of her mind. She did neither. Instead she just looked at him as he spelled the bones from the fish while her mind was flooded with the same question he had just asked her. What did she want him to say? What had she expected when she had asked him that question? Nothing, was what she had expected; she had meant it as nothing more than a silly comeback to his quip.
With a wave of her wand, she summoned one of the big leaves from a plant outside, and with another swish, she transfigured it into a thin, slightly greased sheet of paper that she placed on the counter with a slap of her hand. "That is baking paper." Try as she might, she couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice, and the humiliation of that realization made her turn around on her heel, headed directly for the door.
The click of the door closing behind her made her stop. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the fact that she had stormed out of what could have been a nice dinner with a potential friend like an over-emotional teenager. She could feel the tree of the deck under her bare feet, and that discovery had her sigh deeply as she pinched the bridge of her nose and turned around, knocking on the door like she had done when she had first arrived what could only be ten minutes ago.
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Date: 2012-12-07 04:19 am (UTC)With a wave of her wand, she summoned one of the big leaves from a plant outside, and with another swish, she transfigured it into a thin, slightly greased sheet of paper that she placed on the counter with a slap of her hand. "That is baking paper." Try as she might, she couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice, and the humiliation of that realization made her turn around on her heel, headed directly for the door.
The click of the door closing behind her made her stop. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the fact that she had stormed out of what could have been a nice dinner with a potential friend like an over-emotional teenager. She could feel the tree of the deck under her bare feet, and that discovery had her sigh deeply as she pinched the bridge of her nose and turned around, knocking on the door like she had done when she had first arrived what could only be ten minutes ago.