"SHE'S THE ONE THAT KEEPS THE DREAM ALIVE, FROM THE MORNING TO THE EVENING"
-Brimful of Asha, Cornershop
"OH LOOK," Adore grinned, placing the newspaper down onto the dining table as she looked upon her breakfast partner with a teasing grin. It was the morning after their victory against the Wimbourne Wasps and of course, Adore and Oliver's ceasefire agreement. The two were sitting amicably at breakfast, indulging in the vast array of muggle food they got delivered to the suite by room service without any hint of awkwardness between them. Although neither would ever admit it, it was quite enjoyable for both parties.
"What?" came Oliver's reply, as he settled down his glass of orange juice to lean over and see what she was indicating toward. His gaze scraped over the headline, which was placed under the moving picture of his very own girlfriend. "'Brilliant Boucher Plans Charity Bash for Victims.'"
Adore snickered at the dramatic tone in his voice as he read the title aloud, quizzically quirking his eyebrows as he leaned in even closer to read the subtext. In Adore's mind, she wondered if he was feeling pride for his 'brilliant' girlfriend. From what she read, Beatrice was in the midst of planning a charity ball to generate reparations for the families of victims lost in the war against Voldemort and his followers. The redhead tried to push away the part of her that was inwardly rolling her eyes, of course brilliant Beatrice Boucher was doing such a thing.
The beater couldn't help it - there was something about the socialite Oliver was dating that rubbed her the wrong way. Adore generally felt uncomfortable around people who tried so hard to come off as polished and enviable as she did, and found herself always seeking out flaws that made them somewhat human. Perhaps it was envy she was feeling, envy that Beatrice was so perfectly perfect while Adore was so imperfectly imperfect.
The sound of a scoff dragged her attention away from her dancing thoughts, as she looked wide-eyed toward Oliver as he was in the middle of an actual, physical eye roll.
"I literally was saying last week that something should be done for families of the victims and now she's taking credit," he complained, leaving Adore positively flabbergasted that he seemed to be just as bitter and resentful as she was. "That's a load of shite that is."
"'A cause very dear to my heart,'" Adore read aloud the direct quote from the blonde bombshell. "Did she lose someone as well?"
"Is a unicorn's blood brown?" Oliver continued to rant, and although she shouldn't have taken any pleasure in it Adore was positively living. "She was touring America for two years. She doesn't even know anyone that passed away. She's my girlfriend and all, but I wish she wouldn't try so hard to get public respect. Especially when it's something that's actually dear to my heart."
"Yeah," Adore responded meekly, although inside she was roaring with agreement. She still had to choose her words carefully, at the end of the day Beatrice was Oliver's girlfriend and any wrong comment could send him in into full defence mode for his partner.
They were interrupted by the eruption of a creak sounding from the floorboards in the hallway, their attention snapping to the extremely humorous image of Padraig trying to tiptoe out of his room without waking the woman that was obviously still asleep in his bed.
"So," he whispered, albeit rather loudly, while stealing a slice of French toast from Adore's plate as she scoffed with outrage. "I need to get out of here."
"You're not leaving us with her, Padraig!" Adore warned with a deadpan voice, her eyes threateningly wide.
"You could always check out early too..." he trailed off when the duo in front of him slowly turned to face him with the sourest of expressions. That definitely wasn't going to happen.
"No chance pal, check out isn't until twelve and I'm not giving up living in the lap of luxury a minute earlier for you," Oliver spoke with finality as he crossed his arms over his chest and refused to budge. "Pull your bollocks out of your back pocket and go tell her it was a one time thing."
"What is happening?" A thickly-accented Eastern European voice suddenly rang out through the room, causing the three members already present to pause in place. Slowly, Adore leaned to the left and looked over the side of Padraig's frozen body to see a beautiful blonde standing in the hall, in nothing but a Puddlemere shirt that fell to her mid-thighs.
"You are trying to leave?" She continued, her expression twisted with hurt as Adore returned her gaze to a still non-moving Padraig.
"Um... Padraig?" Adore spoke, hoping it would snap him out of his obvious daze but he simply cut her off with a quick 'shush'. "Padraig, she can literally see you."
The Irishman had clearly been hoping that if he stayed still enough, the woman would believe him to be jinxed (or would just get the hint) and leave without him having the dreaded 'morning-after' conversation. Finally letting out a huff of air after Adore's comment, his body relaxed from its stiff posture before he shot a fierce glare toward his fellow beater. The redhead simply shrugged and popped a strawberry into her mouth proudly, catching Oliver's eye and sharing a smirk as they waited for the drama to unfold.
"Look babe," Padraig turned slowly, his hands held up in defence, "I made it a bit clear last night I wasn't looking for anything more than some fun. I thought it'd be easier for both of us if I just left now, rather than having an awkward goodbye when you woke up."
"So you just used me!" She suddenly shouted, her voice raising quite a few octaves higher than when she previously spoke. "You used me for your pleasure and now you will toss me out without a goodbye, or even a thank you! What about breakfast? Do you not think I would be hungry after our super sexy time?"
At the mention of 'super sexy time', Oliver completely lost it as he dissolved into laughter. Clamping a hand over his mouth to hold back his guffaws, Adore had to look away and curl her lips in before she would soon be joining him.
"'Super sexy time'... woah, what a compliment but-" Padraig tried to defend himself, although his cheeks were as red as the berries Adore was tucking into.
"Those were your words last night!" Adore couldn't help herself, her composure obliterating at the Veela's retort as she snorted a laugh. Together, her and Oliver's shaking bodies were vibrating the table as they tried desperately to stop laughing before they were dragged into the argument.
"I will not be so disrespected!" The woman suddenly screeched, and before Adore's very eyes her laughter finally cut short as she watched the stranger's delicate features morph into something altogether horrifying. The redhead had thankfully never been in a situation where she had to see a Veela morph from their human form to their other side, but here she was still in her short pyjamas watching as a nose transformed into a beak and a set of wings suddenly exploded outward.
Adore and Oliver scampered away from the table quickly, leaving Padraig to defend himself before they were caught in the firing line too. The Veela's true form was positively horrifying, it was difficult to recognise any resemblance to the model-like woman that stood where it stood mere moments before. Her head could be fairly compared to that of a bird, and even the vast expanse of wings that were now attached underneath her shoulder blades were not at all feathery or delicate. They were scaly.
"Um!" Padraig shouted in panic, grappling for his wand from his hip and holding it up as he could do nothing but prepare to deflect the fireballs the Veela was brewing up in her hands especially for him. "A little help lads?!"
"You couldn't have gone for a muggle?" Oliver roared back, his body soaring behind the couch and dragging Adore down with him as the creature shot out her first ball of fire, narrowly missing Padraig's face, sailing over the sofa the two were hidden behind and burying into the wall above them.
It wasn't long before another ball of fire was sent forth, and then another, with Padraig relying on his beater skills this time to deflect each ball that came his way as if they were bludgers.
"Should we leave him?" Adore asked breathlessly, her hands protectively cupped over the sides of her heads. Oliver appeared horrified at the mere prospect.
"Godrick, now I see why you were sorted into Slytherin," he huffed in frustration, slowly raising himself up to glance over the sofa for an opening. Immediately after, he ducked down again as a stray ball soared over the two of them and hit the wallpapered wall once again.
"Damn," Adore hissed, "Coach is going to be pissed when he sees what we've done to this room. How are we gonna explain this to housekeeping?"
Oliver, who had been raising himself upward again and obviously saw an opportunity for attack, shot up to a standing position suddenly with his wand poised in the air and directed toward the Veela.
"Stupefy!" He shouted, a red beam shooting from his wand and settling in the chest of the creature, effectively stunning her into unconsciousness.
Now that immediate danger was no longer present, Adore stood up alongside him, wincing at the damage the one night stand had caused to the once decadent suite. Sighing, she lifted her own wand and began to direct it around the singed cushions and damaged wallpaper, muttering 'Scourgify' every few seconds to return everything the way it had been.
"Well," Padraig whipped around to face them, although he was eyeing a burn mark on his left shoulder where a ball of fire had clearly skimmed over his skin, "they always say if you have a burning sensation after a one night stand to go get checked."
"What are we going to do with her?" Oliver demanded after holding back his chuckle at the beater's words, his gaze returning to the unconscious being laying on the carpet of the hallway.
"You know what?" Adore remarked, picking up the cup of tea she had left in the process of escaping near-death and clapping a hand on Padraig's undamaged arm. "I'm gonna go full Slytherin and say that is a you problem, not an us problem."
☽ ☾
"I can't wait," Wendy was in the midst of saying while fluttering about the locker room that Adore was only just entering. "Imagine all the gowns and the dancing!"
"It's more the bar I'm interested in," Padraig responded, piquing Adore's interest as to the topic of conversation as she quietly stuffed her bag into her locker and kicked off her shoes.
"It's more the charitable act I'm interested in," Andre retorted, giving the male team beater a pointed look which was waved off with a smirk. "It'll be great to give back to those families after all that's happened, I've heard some terrible stories about wizards and witches left without homes, or even left as orphans."
"Yes, of course I care about that too," Wendy huffed, sitting down on the wooden bench with a sigh as her mind couldn't bring itself away from the extravagance the event in question was offering. "But still, think about how amazing it's going to be! I want to be the prettiest witch in attendance."
"What do you think of that Adore?" Teppig called out, dragging the redhead into the conversation as she laced up her trainers for the upcoming training session. "Are you and Wendy gonna be battling it out for the mantle of 'prettiest witch'?"
"What on Earth are you all talking about?" Adore questioned to satisfy her own confusion, sitting down on the bench and crossing one leg to the other side so that she straddled it. Her attention was placed on tucking her hands into gloves that would protect them from damage out on the pitch.
"The invitations to the charity ball, of course!" Wendy exclaimed with a beaming grin, turning around on the bench to face her teammate with complete jittery excitement. "Haven't you checked your post?"
Adore felt her heart physically sink at the mention of invitations, judging by the group involvement in the conversation she guessed that everyone had received an invite to Beatrice's charity event. Everyone except for her.
"I have checked my post," Adore admitted in a low voice, cheeks flaming red as she didn't dare lift her eyes again as she fiddled with the button on her gloves. She didn't need to look up to know the team were sharing wide-eyed glances, and that Wendy would appear wracked with guilt for mentioning it.
"Oh..." Wendy finally said after a moment of awkwardly glancing to the other teammates for help. "Don't worry, I'm sure your owl will have it dropped off by the end of today! We just got ours... a little early..."
"It's fine," Adore shrugged, adopting her signature 'Devil May Care' appearance as she forced a small smile and stood up to fiddle with something in her locker. "I don't even care, I can donate without needing to do my make up and wear a stupid frock."
"Morning guys," Oliver greeted, suddenly appearing in the row of lockers and taking note of everyone's pinched expressions. "Woah, what's happened here? Did I leave my dirty boxers lying somewhere?"
"Nothing," Adore cut everyone off as they had opened their mouths to explain the situation to the very boyfriend of the person that seemingly on purpose had excluded her. "I was just busy telling them about Padraig's one night stand and now they're berating him for his misogyny."
"Y-yeah..." Andre recovered quickly, catching on to the fact that Adore didn't want to discuss anything further. "Proper twat he is."
"Aw mate," Oliver scoffed in amusement as he recalled the situation, "you've no idea. We had to get an Auror to come around when she woke up. Talk about a shitshow."
Adore eventually re-entered the conversation after she took a few moments to regain composure, when she could finally silence the voice in her head telling her that Beatrice had done it on purpose. The redhead was the most famous member of Puddlemere, it seemed impossible that she had forgotten to invite her. But she had to convince herself that was the case, for if she started thinking of all the reasons the woman had excluded her she'd end up saying something she'd regret. Still, it had stirred up old feelings she hadn't felt from school - a feeling of exclusion and feeling like she was hated without cause.