𝐎𝐃𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 harry potter.

13: End of Summertime Sadness

"COME ON, CHARLIE, JUST SAY IT!" Ginny demanded, her hands gripping the sleeves of Charlie's blue ringer shirt. Charlie, with his face dusted with freckles and his sleeves straining against his muscular arms, gave a teasing smirk and shook his head firmly.

Since the Quidditch World Cup incident, neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy had been home all week. Bill had been popping in from the Ministry when needed, while Charlie, a dragon expert, had opted to stay home and enjoy a well-deserved break. His siblings had been relentless in their quest to get him to reveal details about the upcoming Hogwarts year—a secret they were convinced must be very important.

The family had gathered by the paddock, soaking up the sunny weather, while Mrs. Weasley stayed inside, tidying up after the children. Ally Weasley laid on her stomach next to Ginny, her elbows propped up and chin resting on her palm as she flipped through Numerology and Grammatica. Ally had her hair in its usual plaits, her fringe framing her face in waves. Now an incoming third-year, she was contemplating Arithmancy based on Hermione's suggestion, despite knowing her abilities would fall short. She was also taking Divination with Ginny, convinced it would be good fun.

Harry was busy pulling weeds, squinting against the sunlight to make out the figures in front of him.

"Look, it's Errol!" Charlie called, pointing as the old owl made an erratic approach, swerving left and right before crashing into the grass. Harry winced as Charlie gently picked up the owl and removed the letters from its feet.

"One for you," Charlie said, handing a letter to Ginny, and then bending down to give another to Ally. "And one for you."

Ally set aside her Arithmancy book and sat up, the straps of her floral sundress slipping off her shoulders. She parted her hair to the side as she took the letter, noting its smooth black envelope with golden lining and the elegant cursive on the back. The regal appearance instantly made her think of one person: Blaise Zabini. Her correspondence with him hadn't been planned or elaborate; it was a spontaneous thought over the summer, a casual inquiry about the Quidditch World Cup, and a reminiscence of their pre teen years.

Dear Alvona,

I trust this letter finds you well.

I did indeed attend the Quidditch World Cup, and I must report that our accommodations were adjacent to those of Draco Malfoy. The event was satisfactory, though not extraordinary. I am pleased to hear that you enjoyed yourself.

Should you have an interest in Quidditch, I would be delighted to offer my assistance should you choose to pursue it this year. Arithmancy is an admirable choice, and if your schedule permits, I would also recommend considering Ancient Runes. As for Divination, it remains an outdated practice that I doubt would hold much appeal for someone of your discerning nature. Nonetheless, I encourage you to follow your own inclinations.

I look forward to our meeting aboard the train. In the interim, do refrain from encroaching upon others' personal space.

Yours,

Blaise

Ginny's shriek pierced the air, drawing the attention of everyone, including a startled Mrs. Weasley, who rushed out of the house, her concern notable after the recent scare from the Dark Mark at the World Cup. Fortunately, Ginny was unharmed and was simply excited, having finished reading Blaise Zabini's letter before Ally had even had the chance.

"In the interim, do refrain from encroaching upon others' personal space?" Ron read aloud with a look of disgust. The group stood behind Ally Weasley, all eyes on the letter. "Who talks like that?"