With his legs crossed, Damian sat in the middle of his bedroom, a large quantity of coins lying on the carpeted floor in front of him. He was counting, his small, thin lips only barely twitching with each word, though his voice was still audible; “seven-hundred and twenty-eight…” he spoke to himself, touching each small coin with the tip of his index finger, moving it slowly into the pile it belonged in. It wasn’t that Damian actually needed to count the amount of money his mother had left lying around the house, he did, however, feel a great need to separate the Galleons, the Sickles, and the Knuts from each other, feeling much more content upon seeing them each in their own, separate pile.
He pushed himself up off of the ground with his palms, and stared down at his work; there were six groups there on the floor, each of which a good amount of coins were placed in. Each group had its own traits, and every coin that had been sorted into that group, had said traits- much like the houses at Hogwarts, which Damian himself was anxious about- such as Old Galleons, New Galleons, Old Sickles, New Sickles, Old Knuts, New Knuts, Bent Galleons, Dirtied Galleons, and so on.
Proud of a job well done, Damian turned and left the coins to lie there on the floor, each stacked neatly in their own groups, and headed towards his mother’s room. Damian knew he would find that his mother wasn’t in her room upon entering, for she had spoken to him about how he would be spending the evening at home while she and Damian’s sister attended the Hogwarts graduation ceremony, but Damian decided to enter the room anyway. He looked around the place, his innocent but yet someone incredibly wise eyes, scanned the room slowly, stopping on a note which was laying there beside the phone. The young boy stepped forward, a curious expression taking over his facial features as he read the untidy letters that were scribbled on the white paper:
Call the babysitter at this number….
The corners of Damian’s lips twitched slightly; it was just like his mother to prepare everything and then forget one of the most important details- Damian loved his mother greatly, but by then, he knew that remembering such things wasn’t his mother’s forte. He took the reminder in his right hand and slipped it into his right pocket, patting his jeans just below the pocket to make sure that it slipped down far enough so that it would not find a way to jump out later. He would keep the note for the time being, for he himself saw no particular reason for a nanny to watch him; he was capable enough to put up with his older sister… that alone took quite a bit of mental capacity.
Only a few moments after exiting his mother’s room, someone from downstairs called his name. He had frozen in place and his eyebrows had risen as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard; his father’s voice- now why on earth would he be here? Whenever we go to visit Father, Mother takes us to him herself, never the other way around. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I have heard that voice in this house…
Damian made his way down the stairs and towards the door in record time, stopping just before the door only to see both his father and his mother standing there in the doorway. “The nanny must be late, Mother,” Damian joked, his lips curling into a smile. “Father? Are sis and I coming with you tonight? I haven’t had the chance to pack- I hadn’t known that you were coming…” He greeted, tilting his head to the side, further expressing his confusion.