This, Phineas thought, was probably the worst part of being at Hogwarts. He wasn't accustomed to seeing his father so much--he'd done the math, actually, and realized that over the course of the next seven years, he was going to see his father more times than he had in his entire life up until this point. And that was just if he counted seeing his father in the Great Hall at meal times. He wondered if this feeling was specific to what his family was like, or if it was normal to feel like this. If he ever got on friendly enough terms with Professor Valenduris' children who were at school now, perhaps he'd work up the courage to ask if feeling like your father was half a stranger was a normal feeling for the children of professors. Asking Sirius, of course, would have been useless.
"I have been getting on all right," Phin said, because it was true enough, and because he didn't think his father would actually appreciate any complaining he might do. "Classes are interesting, and I am trying to make friends." He did not mention his one and only correspondence with his mother's since arriving, and hoped his father wouldn't bring it up--either because he didn't know, or because he didn't care.
"I have been getting on all right," Phin said, because it was true enough, and because he didn't think his father would actually appreciate any complaining he might do. "Classes are interesting, and I am trying to make friends." He did not mention his one and only correspondence with his mother's since arriving, and hoped his father wouldn't bring it up--either because he didn't know, or because he didn't care.