Elinor was left with nothing after the Second Wizarding War.
She was just another fighter, another witch, some alumni who battled darkness and won but lost to the glorious shadow of Harry Potter. Not a worthy acknowledgement was left to paint her du...
13/02/2001 la Deli boulangerie, Kingswear, Devon ¬
[ i n v i t a t i o n ]
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"YOU BOUGHT LUNCH? FOR US?"
Yesterday, Bielle decided to break her clean record, skip her daily tea gathering, and spend the evening sipping tisane on her classically decorated porch with Elinor instead.
They were talking about random stuffs when Bielle suddenly said, "I know by heart that a good cup of warm tea before bed is bound to bring a good night sleep. And if it doesn't work for you, take some Ambien from the bathroom closet."
Elinor looked up from her distorted reflection on the tea's surface.
"You're twenty-one. It's not your time yet to have eye bags and wrinkles and ugh." Bielle waved her perfectly manicured hand over her own face, as if referring to herself, "It's the time to be beautiful and make some young men fall onto their knees, begging for love."
Elinor chuckled, "Does it show that much?"
"Yes, mon amour. Everyone can tell when you're happy or sad just by your expression. Is there something troubling your mind?"
"No!" Elinor exclaimed too quickly.
How could she tell her adoptive Muggle mother that she was terrified... because there was high possibility that the one thing (read: magic) she had been running away from... had finally caught up to her in the form of Mrs. Weasley?
She cleared her throat, "No, it's just a little insomnia."
"Ellie, darling... It's well past due time but I have to tell you this... If you remember anything from your past, you have to tell me."
Elinor pressed her lips together and looked down.
"If you want to look for your past, or your biological family—"
"No, Mama, this is my family now."
Bielle nodded. She put her porcelain cup back onto its plate. "Just take the morning off tomorrow."
"I'm fine, Ma. I can come to work—"
"Tatatat. Non. What you can do is get better and stop restocking the pain relief patches every two days. What are you, a vieille? Old woman?"
But the French herbal tea didn't work and the sleeping pill was efficacious only for five hours. The plan to wake up as late as possible went down the drain when Elinor opened her eyes to numbers zero, seven, zero, five etched on her clock.
So she decided to be productive and made use of the kitchen.
Six hours later, Elinor entered the Deli's door bearing two bags, each one containing five lunchboxes of Honey Glazed Roast Pork with apples.
