Tracey's eyes watched the fire dancing with itself. There had always been something soothing about fire to her. It was one of her favourite parts of potion making as well, she was never bored when she had to wait for a potion to brew - she had always found the erratic dance of the fire calming. Perhaps calming wasn't the right word, invigorating may have been more apt of a description. Actually, there may not have been a word for it in English that she even knew - not that she spoke other languages. But the sight of fire, of the way it couldn't be contained gave her a piece of mind that rose up in her in a way that, perhaps, was just without succinct description.
She hadn't been watching the door when the petite red headed girl walked in. Her eyes darted up quickly as she heard the all too familiar voice of her closet friend, "Oh good." She said with a smile, reserved for a few truly rare people. "You got my note." She finished, her normal trace of a smirk returning to her lips as she spun the spoon in her drink about - finally taking a sip.
"Its been too much." She said matter of factly. "Macey turned 11. It only renewed Mother's family's dislike of my personality and insistence that its not too late to ship me off for glorified magic finishing school. And my Father's constant attempts to make me and Brandon bond again." She rolled her eyes. Tracey had no dislike for her younger sisters but she had never bonded with them. She cleared throat, "There's your long winded 'isn't it always' answer." She said with a forced grin.