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The Quidditch World Cup was a large ordeal for Willow's younger brother, no matter how hard he argued that it wasn't.
Draco was more than excited as he begged her to go with him. At first, she thought it was ridiculous, not caring for the sport at all, but she decided to attend because of her brother's radiant smile.
He didn't express emotion often, mostly because their parents frowned upon it, wanting them to be identical to them.
Cold and heartless.
Their father tagged along for the pure joy of judging others and people-watching, Willow decided to ignore him most of the trip there.
She didn't absolutely hate her father, she just mostly hated the way he treated her brother. He wanted him to be some strong and unemotional clump of clay, waiting to be molded into whatever image their father decided he should be.
Their mother was more compassionate and affectionate, sometimes helping Willow with her hair or feelings and even giving her younger brother hugs when their father wasn't around. Willow knew her parents loved one another, but she always thought her mother deserved better.
The three of them found a place to stand, somewhere comfortable and with a great view, as per usual.
She was astonished as the players flew out, clapping loudly as they played and played. Willow glanced at her father with a tight poker face, not appearing amused at all.
Willow spotted a few peers in the crowd, yet no one seemed worth greeting and pretending to make small talk with.
She'd also see them at school fairly soon, so it wouldn't be rude. The only thing keeping her from rolling her eyes was the excitement on her brother's face.
An unfamiliar feeling came to her as she glanced at him, seeing him happy and cheerful made her heart warm. Nothing could take these little moments from him, not even her cruel father who complained of coming in the first place.
Her blonde younger brother kept that high as the game started and ended. Willow even admitted out loud to him about how exhilarating the game was.
Eventually, people began to head back to their tents. Wizards of different ages and sizes all packed the outside of the area, clinking glasses and echoing their voices at their full volume.
The sight was extremely unfamiliar at the time. They were basically stuck in their manor all summer, not spending much time with their friends, and barely speaking at dinner. Their father didn't tend to lead much conversation.
