The sun was bright when she woke, glaring through the window and stinging her half-asleep eyes. With a groan, she rolled so her face was in the pillow. For a moment, there was a blissful peace - just the birds singing their morning chorus in hushed tones outside her bedroom window. Just as her eyes sagged, a voice shattered the peace.

"Nica? Come down and have soem breakfast."

The brunette growled, trudging down the stairs in her white and purple dressing gown, and slumped into one of the wooden dining chair.

Her father, a tall man with short blonde hair and a dashing smile, beamed at her with his pearly white teeth.

"Morning my sweet!"

"Daddy... why are you making pancakes... without magic?"

There was a silence as her father looked down at the frying pan in his hand, before flipping it haphazardly.

"I don't know darling. Maybe an influence of your mother?" The man shrugged, and continued to cook pancakes. A while later, their two plates were ladened with perfectly circlular pancakes smothered in all kinds of sweet and sour toppings (leading Veronica to assume that, in the end, her father had indeed used magic) and they began eating with their usual morning chatter.

"Nica, darling, you've been going down to Hogsmeade an awful lot as of late... and that broomstick you sent me was quite a shock you know."

"Daddy..." She sighed, "My name is Veronica. Everyone at school calls me Vero."

"But, darling, Hogsmeade..."

"I'm just hanging out with a few friends. That broomstick I bought was to help someone practice, besides, your old Bluebottle is going to give out one of these days."

Her father's violet eyes lit up, "Practice? There's a game on?"

"Hufflepuff versus Slytherin." Vero cleared her plate, now wide awake, "But Danny isn't very good, and he's a Chaser... so I was helping him out."

There was another moment of silence as the man waved his wand, the plates filing away into the sink to be washed. Her father tapped the table thoughtfully.

"...Maybe you could invite this... 'Danny'... round? Before the games, I mean. I could show him a few tricks."

Veronica smirked a little.

"Trust me, Dad, he's got talent, just doesn't know how to use it." She began to head up off the stairs, "And to be fair, I do believe 'Elliot Graves, the great Ravenclaw Chaser' is a bit out of practice."

Elliot pulled a face, but a smirk played at his lips. Shrugging, he headed out into the garden - he hadn't gotten an O in Herbology for nothing.