P A R A M O U R || George Weasley

21|| BEFORE WE GO

"Whose winter coat is this?" Daphne asks, holding up between two fingers an oversized black coat.

"That would be mine," Patricia blushes, taking it out of Daphne's grasp and stuffing it into her trunk.

The coat belongs to Marcus. A few months back, he and Patricia went out on a date, and he had given her his jacket to keep her warm. She's kept it ever since and refuses to return it. It's been a thing between them. They are going 6 months strong, to anyone's surprise. Marcus' outgoing personality has helped Patricia with her introverted tendencies.

"Have any plans for the summer?" Gemma then asks the rest of the room.

"We're not traveling this summer because of the Quidditch World Cup," Daphne frowns, "Father got his tickets months ago and is taking the whole family. We're even camping there," she finished with a scoff.

"I'm. Going. To. Ireland." Patricia huffs, pushing down on her trunk to close it. Staring at her with pity, Lyra performs a spell to organize everything in Patricia's trunk, making it close easier.

"Thanks. I forgot about the incantation." Patricia smiles at her friend. "What are you going to do, Lyra?"

"I'll be going to France for most of the summer. My grandfather insisted on us visiting, and my father caved."

Abraxas Malfoy has a beautiful country home in France. It's where he spends most of his days now that he's older. Before Draco and Lyra started attending classes at Hogwarts, they used to visit multiple times a year. Now they are lucky if they visit him once. Their grandfather, although strict, is a great family man and loves having his grandchildren around, aka the redeeming future of the Malfoy family.

The one person Abraxas Malfoy squabbles most with is his own son Lucious Malfoy. It all began when Abraxas found out his son joined an organization that so publicly rejected muggle-borns and blood traitors. He entirely agrees purebloods are above them all, but to express such sentiments so freely tarnishes the Malfoy name. Appearances are everything, and being discreet is of the utmost importance. Lucius threw all of that out the window.

"Ohh, you need to have a summer fling with a french boy," Gemma squeals, snapping Lyra out of her thoughts.

Lyra laughs as the room joins in on everything she can do while in France. As tempting as a french fling sounds, one guy is occupying all of her thoughts, leaving no space in her mind for others. At least for now, she has a plan she needs to go through first.

The Great Hall is noisy when the Slytherin girls go down for breakfast. Everyone is happy to be done with schoolwork and ready to go home to enjoy their summer. The seventh years were all sitting together reminiscing about their time at Hogwarts, some more teary-eyed than others. It reminds Lyra that she has two more years of enjoying Hogwarts before they get thrown into the real wizarding world. No more breakfast feasts or summer breaks.

For the last time this year, the owls fly into the great hall delivering last-minute correspondence and newspapers. Nebula swipes down into the Slytherin table, dropping a letter right in front of Gemma.

"Thank you for letting me use Nebula to send that letter to my Uncle. It was very important, and I don't trust the school's owls. They've lost my letters more than once," Gemma says, sending Lyra a grateful look.

"Anytime," Lyra waves her off, digging into her breakfast.

"I'm going to miss you this summer, girls," Marcus drops down on the bench beside Patricia, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Who are you lying to?" Daphne glares at him jokingly.

"We all know you're only going to miss one person at this table," Lyra raises an eyebrow, eyeing Patricia.