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...
01/04/2001 The Rousseau's Residence, Kingswear, Devon ¬
[ f i r e w h i s k e y ]
"ELINOR, THIS IS MY LAST WARNING. PHONE."
"Sorry, Ma," Elinor grimaced sheepishly.
She scrolled through her strings of messages with George and reread them one last time.
Are we good now?
In my defense, you almost gave me a heart attack.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, too.
Were you worried?
Very.
I'm sorry.
It's cool. I've been on worse dates.
You HAVE to tell me about that next time.
Sure.
Happy birthday!
Wow. Don't feel like 23 yet.
Is it past midnight already?
Yes.
Thanks btw.
You're welcome. Any plans today?
Elinor put her phone down and dug into her dinner disinterestedly. She wondered if there was another emergency at the shop or if Molly was throwing her son a birthday party with the Strawberry Paris-Brest as planned and forgot to invite her.
George's last message was midnight, nineteen hours ago. And he still didn't reply until the next day.
☆★☆
02/04/2001 The Rousseau's Residence, Kingswear, Devon ¬
"ELLE? ELINOR? HONEY!"
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Elinor stirred on her sleep and groaned.
Her hand hovered over the nightstand and opened the lid of her flip phone. She opened one eye and squinted at the sudden brightness, looking at the time on its greenish block screen. 01.58, April 2nd 2001.
