"If you looked up the definition for lovesick fool, Harry Potter's picture would be right next to it."
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Allegra Del Vecchio is a part of a household name in the Wizarding World. A notoriously wealthy, mysterio...
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Allegra decided to go back to Hogwarts a few days before the new term started. She had to admit the days passing her mother's birthday had driven her a little off the deep end. Sitting alone with her own thoughts after such a date was a forlorn scene, not to mention the restlessness of translating Beatrice's journal.
Part of the reason she wanted to come back early was to translate the journal in peace. Doing it in her room made her feel like she was commiting some sort of crime against her Uncle. She almost had a heart attack when he knocked on her door while she was writing. She'd frantically stuffed the pictures inside her notebook and threw it across her room in panic.
Now, more then ever, she just needed to distract herself and relax. And who could do a good job of that than...
"There she is!" Whooped Fred and George as she walked through the portrait hole. Ron and Harry sat besides the twins.
"Look George, mom made her a sweater too!" Shouted Fred, pointing at her. Allegra looked down at her chest.
"She does that every year. Looks good on you, Del. And at least someone's not picky about the color," grumbled George.
"I said that a week ago. Let it go," spat Ron.
Allegra went over and hugged him. "Good to see you again, Ickle Ronnikins," she teased.
"Allegra," he hissed; annoyed. She giggled then looked at Harry.
"Hey Harry. How was Christmas?" She asked, plopping down into the empty seat next to him.
"Brilliant. We got our cozy gifts," said Fred, dramatically gesturing to the sweater he wore.
"A food coma inducing Christmas feast, and we even got Percy to sit with us in the Great Hall!" added George.
"What about you guys?" She asked, looking at Ron and Harry.
They shared a brief look before mumbling something along the lines of 'fine' and 'brilliant.'
"But you have some explaining to do, Allegra Del Vecchio," scolded Ron. "One morning I was just sipping on my pumpkin juice, minding my own business, when I get a copy of the Daily Prophet. Imagine my surprise when I see you dancing with Blaise Zabini."
"Oh, that," she waved off carelessly.
Ron spluttered. "That's all you have to say? Oh, that? He's a Slytherin. What were you doing getting buddy buddy with a Slytherin."
