evelyn | h.potter

19

[CHAPTER NINETEEN]
FLYING COCKROACHES

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"Eve, Come on, Wake up." Hermione whispered as she shook her awake. "I don't wanna" Evelyn mumbled drowsily and flipped herself to the other side. Hermione sighed, moving away to wake Ginny.

Evelyn smiled to herself triumphantly, thinking she'd won when she felt a trickle of water drip onto her head. Her eyes snapped open for a split second and Ginny and Hermione looked hopeful, their faces quickly dropped when Evelyn's head dropped back onto the pillow and began to snore.

"She won't wake up." Hermione complained exasperatedly, rubbing her face like a mother that was seriously concerned for their child's well-being.

"I think she's dead." Ginny chirped

"Leave it to us." said the twins, they cracked their knuckles and mentally prepared themselves. Fred entered the girls room first and signaled for George to follow when he was sure it was safe.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all watched from the doorframe.

"Feather." Fred commanded, holding out his hand. George nodded his understandingly and placed the feather in his hand.

Fred slightly feathered the back of Evelyn's neck. She twitched, The twins froze, And they continued to feather her lightly and cautiously until she crinkled her eyes.

"Evelyn" George whispered. He was met with a groggy 'Hmm'

"There's a flying cockroach on your pillow."

A moment of silence passed.

"ARGHHHH— IS IT ON ME?! GET IT OFF! KILL IT!" Evelyn sprang up from the bed, Frodo jumped up from where he was sleeping at the end of her bed and watched in confusion as Evelyn barreled through everyone, repeatedly smacking the back of her neck. They heard her loud footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"What's going on!" They heard Mrs. Weasley yell

"BURN THE HOUSE DOWN!" Evelyn's cries rang through the house.

"And I thought Ron's spider phobia was bad" Ginny gaped in disbelief. Hermione looked both worried and pleasantly happy, that the girl was finally up. Everyone else was hunched over in laughter, tears threatened to escape Ron's eyes.

Evelyn was upset that whole morning. She scowled as she dressed in silence and she shot everyone deadly glares at breakfast, no one was safe from her wrath. Mrs. Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets.

He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.

"What d'you think?" he asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito — do I look like a Muggle?"