In which James Potter
is a pyromaniac
and realizes
there is something
more scorching
than Lily's red locks.
because if Lily's bright hair were a burning flame, Ella's blazing blue eyes would be found at its centre, where everything turns to ash...
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𝔸𝕝𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕣𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕤 had done everything to teach their adopted daughter to behave, hoping she would one day be the key inside one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the noble and most ancient pure-blooded families. The Summers came from a long line of American wizards and wanted nothing more than to be respected in Britain, their chosen home, for something other than their money. Prestige and purity were of the utmost importance to them, and they couldn't wait to be a part of the Dark Lord's inner circle.
They had had everything figured out. Ella resembled an angel with her alabaster skin, golden hair, and big blue eyes. The perfect doll, ready to be modelled, and it would be easy to marry her off, they had thought. But the girl had quickly turned out to be an insufferable nightmare. Reckless and impulsive, chaos followed her everywhere she went, and no amount of scolding had ever tamed her fire. There weren't enough Sleekeazy bottles in the world to keep her hair the way people wanted it to be, and no matter how many times Arlene sat her down for some proper etiquette training, Ella would end up with tea all over her expensive dress. Her clumsiness would be the death of her, her brother would say. And according to her father, that clumsiness was only a result of her blatant stupidity.
No one would ever want to marry a stupid, useless squib.
If reaching perfection was her only salvation, Ella Summers was doomed. After all, she had always been good at disappointing people, no matter how hard she'd tried to do the right thing. It had been a constant in her life: to be wanted for trivial things, like her appearance or her family's money, and rejected for what was at the core of her existence, her essence. And now that she had met people willing to accept her the way she was, she suffocated, unable to rewire her brain after years of abuse and hate.
On the morning of October 31st, Ella didn't know how to feel. The bet with James would end by midnight, and she hadn't opened up to him.
Would he stick around after today? Or was he only in it for the win?
She glanced at the four boys surrounding her. They were chatting over their steamed cups of coffee with Ella at their centre, and there was a warmth in their constant bickering she had never felt at the Slytherin table. She chewed on a piece of bacon absentmindedly, wondering if they would permit her to keep this seat upon November 1st, when Sirius jumped to his feet, snapping her out of her depressing thoughts.
"What do you want?"
Upon seeing his hands curl into tight fists, she followed his glare to familiar ocean-blue eyes and hurried up.
