author's note: hello, angels! sorry for fred's distemper in this chapter, i think you might be able to guess why. sweaters and a love note to anyone who chooses to read my words.
𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
October 3rd, 1992
The Gryffindor quidditch team flopped down on the changing room benched, sweaty and exhausted. Oliver Wood, their captain, was beaming at the group.
"Excellent practice, everyone. Alicia and Els, good teamwork. George, nice save at the end there. Harry, work on your precision."
"Leave Harry alone, Ollie, he's The Boy Who Lived." Elodie smirked, swatting at Oliver's arm.
"He'll be the boy who didn't live if we lose to Slytherin." The quidditch captain growled. Harry gulped.
"Harry, ignore Oliver, he's just... ambitious." Elodie reasoned, putting her arm around the young Gryffindor.
"Or a prat." Fred suggested under his breath.
"Fred!" Elodie looked at him with surprise.
"Just joking!" He smiled weakly. "Excited for Hogsmeade today, Els?"
"Very. I wish my stupid mum would've just signed the form so I wouldn't have to keep sneaking around, though." She sighed.
"Hey, Elodie, can I talk to you?" Oliver beckoned her from across the room.
"Sure, Ollie. Just a sec." She hurriedly slipped her socks on and pushed her way through the crowded dressing room, expecting to be informed about something she did wrong during practice, or a move he wanted her to perfect. "What's up?"
He nervously scratched the back of his head.
"I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade today." He blushed.
"Oh, I'm already going. Would you like to come along with us?" Elodie smiled politely.
"No, I meant- um, just the two of us?" Oliver winced.
"Oh."
"Really, me?" She was kind of taken aback- the only time a boy had ever asked her out was Mike Tucker in second year, and that had been a dare, anyway.
"Yes, you." He laughed. "Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Um, I dunno, I just-"
"It's fine, you done have to come with me."
"No- no! I want to!" She corrected herself much too fast, smiling bashfully.
"Oh, okay good." Oliver grinned. "Three Broomsticks at 2?"
"Sounds good." Usually she avoided the Three Broomsticks, for it was a commonplace for teachers supervising the trips, but she decided to make an exception. Besides, she could use some butterbeer.
"See you there." He placed a kiss on her hand, and walked away.
"ALICIA, I'M GOING TO FAINT." Elodie's eyes were still widened in shock, her cheeks flushed.
"What, what?" Her teammate rushed over to her.
"Oliver just asked me out."
"He did what?" Alicia and Fred said in unison.
"Yeah, we're going to Hogsmeade together." She exhaled.
"But, Els, I thought you were coming with us!" Fred protested.
"Leave the girl alone, Freddie, she hasn't had a snog in ages." George smirked.
"Oh, shut it. Anyways, I'm going to go tell Maurs, I'll see you in Hogsmeade!" Elodie left in a breathless rush.
𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
Elodie reviewed her appearance in the bathroom mirror.
"I look silly." She stated, as Maura brushed a comb through her black hair.
"You look beautiful. Your attitude is what's silly." Maura rolled her eyes.
"Whatever you say, Price. I just think the skirt is a bit much." Elodie was dressed in one of Maura's particularly short pleated skirts, with a loose white sweater. Maura insisted that she wear stockings in case the skirt rode up.
"Can I just put my hair up, or something?" Elodie winced as the hairbrush hit a knot.
"Absolutely not. You always wear your hair up. Today has to be different."
"Alright, alright. Merlin, it's almost one-thirty. I'd better get going." She gave an apologetic glance back at Maura, who was staying at the castle to talk to Cedric about what had happened with Lee.
"I really hope it goes well." Elodie squeezed her friend's hands.
"I hope your date does, as well." Maura smiled softly. "Proud of my Elodie-kins."
"Ha-ha. Bye, Maurs." And with that, she stepped out the door and ran down the steps to the third floor corridor, where the one-eyed-witch statue was staring at her invitingly.
"Dissendium." Elodie muttered, and it swung open to reveal a damp passageway.
The walk took shorter than usual, as Elodie was excited and a little bit jittery, and in what seemed like minutes she arrived in the Honeydukes cellar. It was-thankfully-empty, and she hopped up the stairs into the colorful candy shop where Fred and George were looking at sugar quills rather disinterestedly.
"Fancy seeing you here." She tapped George's shoulder.
"Els! You look dashing, is this all for old Ollie?" He grinned.
"Maura made me. I don't look stupid, do I?"
"You look great." George smiled encouragingly. "Doesn't she, Freddie?" He nudged his twin in the ribs, hard. Fred winced.
"'Spose." He grumbled. "Not more stupid than usual."
Elodie rolled her eyes. "Thanks, carrot-top. Means a lot."
"Dont mind him, he's in a mood." George waved off his brother. "You should get to the Three Broomsticks, I'd expect Olivers' already there." Fred nodded along sullenly.
"Ok, say hello to Jordan for me." She bid them, and pranced out the door, bells jingling behind her.
It was lightly drizzling outside, so the warmth of the Three Broomsticks was much appreciated, along with the smell of Madame Rosemerta's cooking and freshly brewed butterbeer. Lively conversation and the sounds of clinking silverware deluged the bar in sound, and Elodie's hazel eyes found Oliver's blue ones in the corner of the room.
"Hello, Ollie." Elodie could feel her nerves rising.
"Wotcher, Els. Don't you look stunning!" Oliver slung his arm over her as she sat down.
"Why thank you, Wood. You're not too bad, yourself." He really wasn't. His brown hair had grown out since last year so it flopped ever-so-slightly in his eyes, and he had large, almond-shaped eyes and a kind smile.
Madame Rosemerta made her way to their table. "What can I get for you today, loves?"
"Hungry?" Oliver asked her."
"Starving. Your practice today killed me." She laughed.
"Two butterbeers, and a plate of chips." He requested.
"Coming right up." Rosemerta smiled, departing back to the bar.
Elodie lowered herself in her chair. "Let's just hope no teachers are snooping around the three broomsticks."
"Why?"
"I don't have my forms. My mum refused to sign them." Elodie sighed.
"How did you get here, then?" Oliver cocked his head.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She smirked.
"Two butterbeers, and the chips will be here in a jiffy." A young waitress promised, handing them their drinks.
"Cheers!" Oliver called after her.
"Merlin, I needed this. It's bloody freezing outside." Elodie took a sip of her drink.
"Sorry to hear practice killed you. Maybe I'll go easy on you next time." Oliver smiled.
"Don't you dare." She grinned devilishly.
He raised his arms in surrender. "It's for the best. Can't let people think I'm favoring you."
"Are you?" Elodie glanced down at his lips.
"Certainly."
"Ahem." An unamused cough came from above them. Fuck. Bloody Mcgonnagal.
"Oh... Hey, professor." Elodie gave her teacher a sheepish look.
"Miss Florence, I was under the impression that you do not have the correct paperwork to attend these visits. Am I mistaken?" She said wearily.
"No, Ma'am." Elodie sighed.
"Professor, if you could just make an exception this one time?" Oliver begged.
"I will not be privy to your romantic conquests, Wood. Miss Florence, I'm afraid you'll have to come with me." Mcgonnagal looked down at them sternly.
"Professor-"
"Now."
"Alright, alright. Bye, Ollie. It was nice seeing you." Elodie said defeatedly.
"Bye, Els." He frowned.
Elodie and Mcgonnagal were greeted with the chilly fall air as they walked back up to the castle, a rather unpleasant trek; rain was pouring down on them.
"You understand why I have to give you detention, don't you?" Mcgonagall said, almost gently. They were back at the castle, climbing the steps to the fifth floor.
"Yes." Elodie replied glumly.
"I'll make sure you aren't up here all too long. You'll be sorting student files, we need to get rid of anything from before 1920." The professor informed her, opening the door to a stuffy closet with dusty boxes piled high to the ceiling. Elodie groaned.
"Just for an hour or two. The dates will be on the covers." Mcgonnagal reassured her, starting to leave. "And I'm terribly sorry I ruined your date. Oliver really is a dear." She gave Elodie a fleeting smile, closing the door behind her.
Where do I start? Elodie thought, frowning at the many stacks of paper.
She flicked through student records in the back of the room, sitting crosslegged on a table.
Elodie had made it through the students of 1917 and 1918 when something caught her eye. It was a box labeled 1992, and the most recent file poking out at the top read Fredrick Gideon Weasley. This should be fun. Like a little record of all the pranks they had pulled over in their years.
She flipped through his record, giggling at all the stupid shit Fred had done, and at all the stupid shit he had done and never been caught for.
Next were a few students she had never even heard of, Maura's file (that was minuscule) and George's file, that was practically double hers. Another file caught her eye, just below George's.
Elodie Isabelle Florence (1978)
Parents: Penelope Florence and Severus Snape
Elodie blinked, rubbing her eye to make sure she read the paper correctly.
The text didn't budge.
Penelope Florence and Severus Snape.
Snape.
The man who had bullied her and everyone she cared about relentlessly, for years. The man who she saw every day, the man who she she shared a castle with. The man who had once purposely spilled a boiling potion on George. The man who had sneered at her every chance he could- her father?
It wasn't possible.
The file must be wrong.
Elodie sat in a dazed silence for what seemed like millennium. There was a thousand things to ponder over, but her mind fixated on a sunny day in first year.
"Everything alright, Els?" Fred had asked her.
"Yes," She replied. "I've been up all night in the library looking through yearbooks. I still have no idea who my dad might be."
"He could always be a muggle." Fred shrugged.
"Yeah, I know." Elodie sighed. It might've been easier if he had been.
"What about Snape? Your hair looks like his." George snorted. Elodie slapped his arm.
"It does not!" She protested.
"Be nice to Els, she's going through an emotional crisis." Fred had grinned.
George always said our hair looked alike. He always said.
Elodie fingered her black locks, staring intensely at the file as if she could change the names she saw if she focused hard enough.
Severus Snape, holding a newborn baby? Severus Snape, making pancakes with candles in them for her birthday morning? Severus Snape, hugging her tightly when she had gotten her Hogwarts letter? Severus Snape, a father?
It all seemed so dystopian. But none of that had happened. Snape had never hugged her, had never made pancakes, he had probably never even held her. He left.
He left.