𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 | 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

Summer 94'

authors note: i'm so sorry about the length summer chapters have to be, but i absolutely refuse to do a part 2. ice cream and "i love you's" to anyone who reads my story.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

August 18, 1994

Elodie had been cooped up in the London flat for the entire summer. It was complete torture-and Snape wouldn't let her use the bloody owl. It was a certain kind of specialized hell for Elodie created solely by her father. Isolation didn't suit her well.

So, it was considerable catharsis when the Fortescues came to pick her up for the World Cup. It was a miracle Snape even let her go; but he said he knew Forrest's mother from somewhere, and "at least it would get her off of his hands."

"Thank you so much for letting me come, Mr. and Mrs. Fortescue." Elodie said, over and over again as the small group of four walked through the buzzing atmosphere. The Quidditch World Cup was like a rock concert; if people at a rock concert sang Irish jigs and only wore green and red. You had to duck about every two seconds as fireworks and people on brooms whizzed overhead.

"It was no trouble, dear, no trouble at all." Mr. Fortescue always replied. He was a short balding man, with a lighthearted nature enough to make anyone feel safe around him. Mrs. Fortescue would've been his complete opposite-she was a thin, unforthcoming Welsh woman with straight brown hair that was just a shade darker than Forrest's, but they shared the same white, movie-star smile that had been passed on to their son.

They approached the middle of the grounds, where all the biggest tents were collected. It looked like a miniature city. A sign read "The Fortescue's" next to a neat grey canvas. It looked like it might be a little cramped, but Elodie was very used to tight spaces, and was mostly just happy to be there. She wondered how the Weasleys were boding, with so many people.

But then Elodie walked inside, and wondered how she had ever been stupid enough to think these tents weren't brimming with magic as the entire place was.

Elodie gaped at the magnificent room that stood before her. The inside the Fortescue's tent was practically the size of a large house. There were glittering white walls, and trailing green velvet curtains. Plants and photographs were placed strategically everywhere, even in the small hallways that led to the other rooms. Opposite the living room was a gleaming marble kitchen, where a tiny house elf that Elodie assumed was Nelly stood, beaming.

"Welcome, masters!" She squeaked, shaking Elodie's hand enthusiastically.

"Hello, Nelly!" Elodie replied, slightly overwhelmed at everything. She had never met anyone who had their own house elf. "God, Fortescue, this place is brilliant."

"It's just the family tent," Forrest blushed. "Nothing special."

'Nothing special' was the understatement of the year. Elodie had never been in a house this big, let alone a tent.

"Let Nelly show the young masters to their room." said Nelly, graciously escorting them down one of the hallways. Elodie looked uncertainly back at Forrest's parents, but they just smiled back at her.

Forrest's room was practically as big as the Gryffindor dormitories. There was a large California King pushed against the wall and an elegant mahogany dresser. Elodie had brought two shirts. Two. She had been under the impression that they were camping! Is this what wizards thought camping was?

"The shower's through here, and you can put your bags down here..." Forrest directed her around. Shower? Elodie hadn't even brought conditioner.