❝𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄❞
aspen andrews was a worrier, an affectionate older sister, a hard-worker and the proudest hufflepuff you'd ever meet. but up until nine...
THE MISTAKE IS THINKING THAT THERE CAN BE AN ANTIDOTE TO THE UNCERTAINTY DAVID LEVITHAN, THE LOVER'S DICTIONARY
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ON THE thirty-first of July, Harry Potter turned seventeen, and consequently, became of age in the magical world. Aspen, although not exactly close with Harry, had established an imperceptible bond with him over two simple realities: they had spent a the most magical time of the year —Christmas — together, and were both foreigners by blood to the Weasleys, a group that they had both come to know as family. Accordingly, Aspen found herself in the garden of the Burrow on that hot summer evening, celebrating the fact that the Boy Who Lived had managed yet another trip around the sun.
After work that day, the twins and Aspen had lugged over their belongings to the Burrow, where they would be staying for the next few days. As per the occasion, they'd also brought presents for Harry. From the twins, they'd brought an enormous box of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes merchandise, and from Aspen, a large bottle of Blishen's Firewhisky, since he was now old enough to drink it legally. The second they'd been herded inside of the house by Molly Weasley, they'd thrust their gifts upon him, joining in on what seemed the never-ending chorus of "happy birthday!" that followed him around the Burrow.
Harry, although entirely appreciative, did not seem particularly fond of the growing attention he was receiving, and with the kitchen uncomfortably crowded, he soon disappeared upstairs, Ron and Hermione trailing after him. Aspen couldn't blame him — Fleur's family had arrived for the wedding, and the rest of the Weasleys were making good use of the kitchen's limited space. Before she, Fred and George could escape too, however, Fleur had leapt up from her seat, enthusiastically tugging at the sleeve of Aspen's sweater.
"Aspen! Let me introduce you to my family," she said keenly, a dazzling smile on her lips as she motioned around the table. "This is my Maman, Papa, and my little sister Gabrielle!"
Aspen followed Fleur's hand around the table, observing the family who were attempting to indulge in their breakfast. It was obvious straight away where Fleur and Gabrielle had received their looks — their mother was just as gorgeous and youthful as they were, her long blonde hair flowing over the curve of her shoulder and across her emerald robes. Their father, however, was shorter, stouter, but still entirely jovial with the wedding approaching fast.
"It's really lovely to meet you all," Aspen offered politely, reaching over the jar of marmalade to shake their hands awkwardly.
"Fleur has told us all about you," Madame Delacour said with a grin, slipping her perfectly manicured fingers into Aspen's palm. "You are a wonderful friend to our daughter."
Aspen's face flushed at the compliment, and while she strived to stutter a response, she could practically feel Fred and George mocking her from the doorway. The Delacours did not seem to notice, too invested in making a good impression on the girl their daughter had found a fierce friend in.
