If there was anyone Eleanor hated most in the world, it was James Potter. So, now she's wondering how the hell she ended up dating him.
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ELEANOR BRIGGET was a force to be reckoned with. Powerful, pretty, and with a personality that could set off...
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☆ ゜・ 。。・ ゜゜・ 。。・ ゜★
THE FIRST TIME ELEANOR BRIGGET had met James Potter had been an utter disaster.
Granted they had been seven years old and extremely volatile, but it hadn't lessened the damage. Or Eleanor's broken arm. Or James's snapped broom.
And to think it had all started with Eleanor climbing a tree.
The afternoon had begun well enough. After a summer full of prosperity, sunshine, and a particularly exciting World Cup, the Potters decided to throw an outdoor dinner party for all their friends and their friends' friends as well. And by some stroke of luck, or misfortune depending on whom you ask, the Brigget family happened to be free enough to go.
That is, if their daughter would ever behave.
"Eleanor, stand up straight. We are guests here." The strict, French-accented voice of Eleanor's mother, Vivian, cut through the air in a whisper as the woman put her hand to her daughter's back, ensuring it was straight. "Do you want them to think we're scoundrels?"
"I want to go home," seven-year-old Eleanor whispered back crossly, pulling at her cerulean summer dress. Although her mother had made it specially for this occasion, it was too long for her tastes and the obnoxious bow in her hair made her feel like a gift box. "Why do we have to be here again?"
"Because we need to greet other wizarding families. Everyone thinks we've been cooped up in our house for far too long." Her father Epidarnus said, more patient and calm than his wife. He patted Eleanor on the head, musing the curly hair that had been brushed back, and Vivian smacked his hand away.
"I spent thirty minutes wrangling her hair," she snapped, trying to wrestle the curly flyaways back. "Don't mess it up, Epidarnus."
Her father sighed. "Vivian, it's not that important—"
"I recall saying the same exact thing for the Quidditch World Cup, but somehow we still found ourselves wasting hundreds of galleons travelling to Sicily to see it."
"That—that was different."
"Really? How? Please do tell me, Epidarnus."
Eleanor rolled her eyes as her parents bickered back and forth like yapping dogs, wishing she could just go home and play in the yard. At the moment, they were at the door of the Potter Manor, waiting to be let in as guests. Although her family rarely went to events held by other wizarding families because of some peculiar fight her father had with the rest of his family, they had somehow decided this would be worth their time and dragged Eleanor along kicking and screaming.
The girl stepped out slightly from between her parents and craned her neck to get a look at the grove surrounding the Potter estate. It was the first thing that had caught her eye when they'd arrived and despite her mother forbidding her from running off, Eleanor was drawn to the place nonetheless. As she stared longer at the underbrush, a few fireflies emerged in front of a cluster of blueberry bushes and her breath caught in fascination. She looked between her two parents, still arguing, and was moving to duck out between them, when Vivian yanked her back by the arm.
