𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 | 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

Summer 93'

author's note: such. a long. chapter. sorry, i wanted to fit the whole summer in so we wouldn't have to suffer through a "part two". chocolate ice cream and toffies to anyone who endeavors to read my story.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

June 15, 1993

Snape's flat was small and dark, and it had a damp scent about it. The living room walls were stacked with books, more books than Elodie would have imagined any one person could've owned. But they all had a thick layer of dust on them from the yearlong absence of their possessor.

Elodie's room had most clearly been thrown together in a matter of minutes-there was a thin cot rather like the ones in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, and a very small, moth-eaten dresser.

"Unpack." Was the first word her father spoke to her that day-he had been completely unforthcoming the entire journey to London.

Elodie sat her suitcase on the bed, miserable.

Fred and George had sworn to write over the summer, and made the additional promise to ride their broomsticks all the way to London if Snape was in any way maltreating her.

Elodie didn't think this would be too much of an issue; it looked as if her father didn't have any intentions on speaking with her, much less abusing.

The owl that Dumbledore had sent her sat carefully on the dresser, narrowing its yellow eyes at Cheese, who was curled up on the edge of the cot.

The kitten didn't like new places, much less dingy old flats that didn't have comfortable armchairs or warm fires like the Gryffindor common room.

The owl was large and night-black. Elodie decided to name it Indigo: Fred's favorite color.

Having little else to do, she constructed what would be her first letter of the summer.

Hello wankers,

Get home all right? It's weird here, really dark and creepy. Bet you a sickle I get mold poisoning by the end of the month. I don't think Snape plans on talking to me, so please please please write back soon or I'm bound to go mad.

All my love, Elodie

P.S. The owls name is Indigo, you like her?

She tied the letter around Indigo's leg and sent her out the window, sitting back down. There was nothing to do except wait hopelessly until the letter from the twins arrived.

"Dinner." A drawling voice came from downstairs.

Elodie's nerves were on end. This didn't feel normal whatsoever. She had pretty much ignored the fact that Snape was her father all of last year, and she had been keen on acting the same now.

But that was made rather difficult as a peeved looking Severus Snape appeared in her doorway, pursing his lips.

"Did I not call for dinner?" He said irritatedly.

"Yes, sir." Elodie said, placing very carful emphasis on the last word.

She followed him downstairs, and they sat at the table in a fit of awkward silence eating bowls of Gazpacho.

"You'll be helping me with work, over the summer." He informed her callously.

"Okay."

"And I won't have any of those Weasley boys in my house."

"Okay." She had expected nothing less. "Can I go camping? In September?"

"Possibly," Was his tart response. "Who with?"