Beatrice Lestrange has always been an outsider in her own story. Born into one of the darkest families in the wizarding world, she grew up under the looming shadow of her infamous mother Bellatrix Lestrange.
Despite this, Beatrice is nothing like th...
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Beatrice had never imagined how quickly life could change, how swiftly her world could be transformed by just a single step forward. Now that she and Theo were finally together, everything felt brighter, lighter, like the summer sun that seemed to stretch on endlessly.
They spent hours at his family's estate, lounging by the lake or exploring the countryside, savoring the feeling of being free from the pressures of Hogwarts. There was something thrilling about this new chapter, their relationship still fresh and full of possibilities.
But as much as she loved their time together, there was something else on the horizon that made her heart race: the Quidditch World Cup. She and Theo had been counting down the days, excited to see the greatest teams in the world compete. It felt like a dream, a magical escape from reality.
In between all of this, her owl had been working overtime. Beatrice had been exchanging letters with Hermione, catching up on life and learning that she too would be attending the World Cup. The thought of reuniting with her added another layer of excitement to the summer.
And then there were the letters from Sirius. Beatrice cherished every one, growing closer to him with each exchange. He was more than just her uncle, he had become a father figure to her, someone she could confide in and trust. His letters were filled with warmth and humor, a reminder that she wasn't navigating this new chapter of her life alone.
With the World Cup fast approaching and the summer filled with joy and anticipation, Beatrice felt like she was standing on the edge of something new and wonderful. It was a summer of change, but for the first time, the future felt full of promise.
The morning of the Quidditch World Cup was chaotic, to say the least. Beatrice was already dressed for the occasion, she was wearing an Ireland jersey and some black leggings. She was just finishing her hairstyle, which consisted of two braids perfectly tailored, when she heard a knock at the door. She opened it to find Mattheo standing there, looking as if he hadn't slept a wink. His hair was messier than usual, and he was still in his pajamas.
— You're not even showered yet, are you? — Beatrice asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mattheo yawned dramatically. — preparing early is for people who don't live on the edge.—
Beatrice rolled her eyes, pulling him inside. — Living on the edge? You're going to be smelling like a troll if you don't get moving.—
— Draco's a lost cause, too, he's been in front of the mirror for the last hour trying to decide whether his 'look' is World Cup appropriate.—
Beatrice let out a groan. — Of course he is. Do we think he'll wear something normal for once, or should I prepare myself for a fashion disaster?—
— Normal? Draco Malfoy? He'll probably show up in something so ridiculous even the Veela will run in the other direction,— Mattheo said with a smirk, stretching his arms. — I just hope Blaise can keep him in check when we get there.—
