𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 | 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

Get Well Soon

authors note: christ. anywho, calming draughts and nice cards to anyone who reads my work.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

January 5, 1993

"I'm late! Oh fuck, I'm so late!" Elodie swore, gathering up her books and dashing down the corridor. She had fallen asleep in the library, and she was at least ten minutes late to their last quidditch practice before the game this Saturday. Oliver was going to kill her.

She cursed the stars in the night for being so beautiful she had just needed to stay up extra late to stare at them. And she cursed her father for giving so many damn potions essays.

Elodie wasn't looking where she was going, and fell hard over something on the ground. She managed to catch herself before her face came into contact with the floor, groaning.

"Ouch..." She glanced over at what had tripped her. It was a person. Not just any person, it was Justin Finch-Fletchley, the boy from the dueling club. His mouth and eyes were glued open in a fright, his body as stiff as stone.

"What the-"

"Elodie? Who is that?" Harry's alarmed voice said.

"Harry! It's Justin- I tripped- what happened to him?" Elodie could barely speak. Nearly Headless Nick was floating nearby, the same frozen expression on his face. "And Sir Nicholas-"

"I don't know-do you think they were petrified like Ms. Norris?"

"Harry, you've got to get out of here." Elodie realized, coming to her senses.

"Why?"

"Because if you're found here, you'll be blamed. I'll stay and call for help-"

But she was too late. Snape was striding through the corridor, his eyes narrowed.

"Potter. Elodie. Caught in the act?" He cocked his brow.

"Father, you have to believe us. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Elodie pleaded.

"I'm getting Professor Mcgonagall. This is out of my hands." He glared deeply at them, and turned on his heel down the hall.

"Fuck. Oh- sorry, Harry, love." Elodie clapped a hand over her mouth.

Harry blushed. "Els, I'm not nine."

"Whatever. You'll always be eleven to me."

"Miss Florence- Mr. Potter- What in Godric's name is going on here?" Professor Mcgonagall rushed up to them, eyes wide. Elodie was still kneeling over Justin, Nearly Headless Nick floating in front of Harry's head.

"Minnie, please- I just tripped in the hall when I found them, and Harry didn't arrive until minutes later. We have no idea what happened!"

"Minnie?" Harry asked.

"You are forbidden from calling me Minnie, Potter." Mcgonnagal looked down on him strictly.

"Erm, okay."

"I believe you, Miss Florence, but we'll have to bring the matter to Dumbledore." She shook her head.

"But, Professor, we have our last quidditch practice today! We need to be there!" Elodie protested.

"Miss Florence, I would've thought you might not been thinking about quidditch, given the circumstances." Mcgonagall gave her a stern glance.

"Right. Perspective." Elodie bit her tongue, looking nervously down upon the petrified student.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁