It was way past morning when Alice finally woke up. The only reason she had managed to pull herself out of bed was the hunger that now made her stomach growl loudly. Putting on some comfy clothes and pulling her hair up in a lazy ponytail, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. She had finally felt some relief from her constant headaches and she truly hoped it would stay that way. Today was, after all, the day everyone would come over and they would have a family dinner. As much fun as that sounded, she knew that patience was a skill she would need to survive the whole thing without a scratch.
That was something she was usually very good at. Alice could be patient and polite and charming in almost every situation. It went against her nature to be rude or harsh. But lately it had been the quite opposite. She found that patience and understanding were skills that she used to posses but not anymore.
Opening the fridge, she frowned when she didn't find anything appetizing. Where was everyone anyway? She couldn't have been the only person in this house. Taking an apple, since there was nothing else she liked, she sat on the kitchen counter and started eating it.
Neville shivered as he came into the living room from being outside in the Greenhouses. It was so cold. He smiled as he saw Hannah fusing over Frank who had just arrived from wherever he was in the world before he came. Frank was also shivering under a wool blanket with coffee in his hands.
“Kingsley said he’s in for it. I haven’t heard much else from anyone besides Susan and Ernie. Ernie said they are running late. Amelia won’t come out of her room and Drew is off somewhere with that silly Crup puppy,” said Neville hanging his coat up and taking off his shoes then slipping into his slippers.
“That’s alright. I believe Alice is in the kitchen,” sighed Hannah. “Just leave her be mum for now. None of us are getting anywhere this early in the morning,” said Frank. “Frank can you help me get your great-grandmother’s portrait over the fireplace?” asked Neville heading into a spare room that his gran had claimed as her sewing room many years ago. Frank and Neville lifted her on top of fireplace. She glared at Neville.
“At last something besides that stuff room. You guys keep my cooped up there all the time,” complained the portrait. “I hate to tell you Gran you choose to be kept in there and some people don’t like your comments,” said Neville. “I would have liked to get a piece of that boy last night. I would have chewed him out like his coward ancestors,” snarled the portrait. “Who?” asked Frank. “Andrei Dolohov,” replied Neville.