Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit
Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work.
12. GFE
Kreacher, thankfully, had a hangover cure for her in the morning. He'd ironed a French Quidditch patch onto his pillowcase, which made Sylvie giggle. When she hesitantly asked him if she came home alone that night he answered in the negative. She found herself flushing crimson as she racked her brain for who she could have brought home until Kreacher told her that the Jacobs woman slept on the couch and left early.
She felt better after that. She drank his hangover cure and attempted to do her morning exercises, but Yoga turned into laying face down on the floor of her living room. Which, she figured, was sort of the same thing anyway. She had a blanket and a pillow when she woke, and felt more human.
She packed a bag, took a bath, and spent the rest of the morning being just as lazy as she had before. Quintus arrived shortly before noon. Kreacher let him in and Sylvie met him in the kitchen.
"You sure about this?" Quintus asked.
"Three days at a muggle amusement park?" Sylvie said. "How bad can it be? How are we getting there anyway?"
"Cassie is going to drive," Quintus said.
"Can't we just Apparate?" Sylvie asked.
"I'm sure we could. But we're going to drive with them," Quintus said.
"Fine," Sylvie pouted. They apparated to Boyle's and Cassie showed up a few minutes later. She was in her late twenties, probably a year or two younger than Boyle. Sylvie smiled and shook her hand and acted as bubbly as she could manage while the formal introductions went on. They skirted around their various employments, Sylvie claimed she was a model still hoping for a big break, which, she supposed, had a glimmer of truth to it.
She lied about the few French cosmetics she'd been involved with, claiming it was all just minor things and that she was working her way toward getting something more. Quintus claimed he worked in an office, although they never really came to a consensus on just what he did in said office.
Quintus and Sylvie climbed into the back of her car and twitched for the three hours it took to get to Staffordshire. She dozed for part of it and then mostly kept her mouth shut while Boyle attempted to check in and be directed to their lodgings.
Sylvie found this part of Muggle life to be exhausting. There was too much back and forth, too much confusion, and too much general wasting of time. It was a lot easier to just Floo to where you were going and be doing with it. But, after what felt like another hour, they parked the car and were taken to what was referred to as their treehouse. It was an elaborate wooden building that looked like it was out of another era. But once inside it had all of the modern muggle amenities.
Boyle and Cassie claimed one of the bedrooms while Sylvie wandered around the rest of the building. She found Quintus in another bedroom a few minutes later.
"You're so conjuring a couch," she said.
"Aren't there more rooms?" Quintus said.
"We're a happy couple why would we sleep in separate rooms?" Sylvie teased.
"Religion?" Quintus asked.
"Or to silence your snoring," Sylvie countered.
"I don't snore," Quintus said.
"Sure you don't," Sylvie responded. She tossed herself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Quintus sat on the end of it and peered at her before she continued. "And the other rooms seem to be more for children anyway. You probably wouldn't fit in the beds."
"But you would," Quintus countered.
"Are you saying I have the body of a child?" Sylvie teased. "Because that's a little bit disturbing for the amount of underwear modeling I do."
"No, I'm calling you short," Quintus said.
"Meanie," Sylvie said.
"If I wanted to be mean I'd point out how cruel of a sister you are," Quintus said.
"Come on," Sylvie laughed. "Chloe and Leo love me."
"I'm sure. And I'm sure Leo gets really sick of your aforementioned underwear photos being plastered over every Beauxbatons dorm room," Quintus teased.
"I'm sure they're not," Sylvie frowned.
"At least he gets to stare at Everly now because of your most recent shoot," Quintus laughed.
"Shut up," Sylvie rolled her eyes as Cassie appeared in their doorway.
"John and I were just going to change and then get takeaway from the restaurant and relax in the hot tub. You guys want to look over the menu and we'll go grab it?" she asked.
"Sure," Sylvie responded promptly. She looked toward what she assumed was the menu on a nearby table and held her hand out to it. But Quintus hopped off the bed and pressed it down into the table as she attempted to summon it. She frowned at how easily it was to forget she shouldn't do that. Quintus picked up the menu and walked it over to her at the bed. Cassie didn't seem to notice anything.
Sylvie decided on the fish and chips and didn't pay attention while Quintus ordered. Although she did hear him suggest some nachos to share and figured that was one of the better ideas he was capable of having.
She moved into the living room of their treehouse and fumbled with the muggle remote for the television. She wasn't quite sure what the point of it was. But she found a sports show and Quintus seemed intrigued when she had it on so she left it on.
Cassie and Boyle returned with the food and they ate sitting around the television. Sylvie's fish didn't travel well and she wondered how Muggles tolerated take-away without magical aids. But she picked at it for a while until Quintus asked if she was going to finish it. She let him eat the rest of it as she excused herself to change.
She conjured a pink bikini and changed into it before heading out to the hot tub, throwing her hair up loosely as she did. Cassie, wearing a green bikini joined her. They relaxed in the water for a few minutes before the boys came out with alcohol.
Boyle climbed in next to Cassie. She stiffened a little as he did, looking adorably nervous as he rested next to her. Quintus paused but got in as well. It was a little cramped with the four of them. But Sylvie made room by slipping onto Quintus's lap. Cassie moved a couple inches away from Boyle. The beater looked disappointed as his date seemed nervous.
But Sylvie got her chatting about her life, and teased Boyle, which relaxed the mood. They downed a couple of bottles of wine before Cassie claimed she was getting too clammy to be in the water any longer and that if they were going to have a full day at the park they should turn in. Sylvie got out with her, leaving the boys to clean up. She said some nice words to the other woman as they went to the separate bedrooms.
She was gathering up her pajamas as Quintus entered, flushed with alcohol and looking a little confused. But she walked into the bathroom saying she wanted to wash off. And, thankfully, when she emerged, he'd already fallen asleep. She glared a bit as he'd fallen asleep on the bed. But he was at least only taking up half of it, and above the covers. She crawled under the covers on the other half and fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She woke before him. He was snoring softly, which caused her to smirk. He hadn't woken during the night, or if he had he hadn't bothered to get under the covers. Sylvie tossed the blankets she was under onto him and gathered up some clothing. She showered and dressed and stepped out of the bathroom. Quintus was still sleeping on the bed, he'd managed to cocoon himself into the blankets that she'd tossed onto him. She summoned a pillow and threw it at his head. He shot up, looking startled.
"Morning sleepy," she said as she put her hair into an updo.
"Morning," he yawned.
"Your turn to shower. I believe Cassie said she wanted to hit the park early," Sylvie said.
"Right," Quintus nodded with another yawn. He looked at her after a moment, then down at himself. He still wore his swim trunks from the night before. "We didn't….?"
"Have mind-blowingly passionate sex that kept Boyle and Cassie up all night?" Sylvie countered. "No. We did not."
"Oh," Quintus said.
"Nor will we," Sylvie said as he sat up.
"I didn't say we would," Quintus responded.
"What do you want for breakfast?" Sylvie asked, changing the subject.
"Whatever," Quintus said. "If they order something just get me some eggs."
"Okay," Sylvie said. She stepped out of the bedroom while Quintus moved toward the shower.
She met Cassie in the living room and accompanied the other woman to get breakfast to bring back to the treehouse. Sylvie paid without question, using her charmed Gringotts card. She stealthily charmed the food after it was handed to her, hoping it would travel better than her fish the night before.
It worked, more or less. Quintus and Jonathan were sitting at the counter when they walked back in. Sylvie distributed the food, having to remind herself to physically hand the containers to Quintus and Boyle, before they all sat down to eat.
Cassie started talking about the park almost immediately. Sylvie got the impression she'd been there quite a few times and rather enjoyed it. She seemed most interested in showing all of it to Boyle. She had their itinerary almost completely planned out already.
They arrived at the park just before it opened. Cassie immediately dragged them to some wooden man thing while the other three all looked a little alarmed at the large metal tracks and spinning cars looming near them. Cassie laughed at them, you'd think, she's said, that they'd never been to an amusement park before.
They didn't have to wait long to get on the first wooden one. And Sylvie certainly didn't shriek at the first drop, no matter what Quintus said. And her legs certainly weren't shaking when she got off of it, either. Don't be absurd. Before Sylvie realized it was supposed to be fun, they were being escorted off of it.
After, a giggling Cassie dragged them to some alien-looking thing and they waited for that before once again being strapped in and thrown around a track. This one, to her surprise, actually made her slightly nauseous. She walked with Cassie after, trying her best to keep up with the other woman's questions, which ranged from how she knew Boyle, to when she met Quintus, to what she thought of the rides, to what she wanted to go on next.
It was early afternoon when they finally got a break. They sat at one of the park's restaurants, Cassie and Boyle were sharing some chips while she drank a raspberry cider. Quintus stuck to water. Cassie talked about the last ride, which Sylvie had enjoyed despite the theming constantly reminding her to smile rubbing her the wrong way. The many inversions, though had made her feel like she was spiraling after the snitch.
Well, a Hogwarts snitch maybe. Not a professional one. Which was what made her realize what was wrong with the entire experience.
Nothing that she'd done that day was nearly as fast or as intense as anything she could do on a broom. The only real difference is she could control the broom, where the limits of her control here were down to her vision and expectation from the path before her. Which did result in a certain level of amusement, sure. But the novelty wore off fairly quickly.
Still, Cassie's enjoyment of it was infectious. Sylvie wondered if her relationship with Boyle would get far enough for him to take her up on a broom. She'd probably love it. And her enjoyment kept Boyle amused.
Quintus was, far and away, the last amused of the group. There was a moment or two when Cassie seemed to be able to tell, which made her pout and gave Sylvie the distinct feeling she thought she was a terrible host. But Sylvie found a multitude of ways to distract him.
Really, it was fairly easy. All she'd have to do was take his hand, or lean against him, or even just lean closer to him, or bend over a table, or stretch. Really, he was alarmingly easy to distract. She wondered if that meant anything, or if he was just being Quintus.
When Cassie and Boyle ran off to ride the alien again, Quintus didn't seem that interested so Sylvie said she wanted to walk through the gardens and that they'd meet up with them later.
Quintus sighed but remained silent as they walked through the gardens. At least until they found a spot to sit. Sylvie took a minute to adjust the comfort charms on her trainers as Quintus sat next to her. She was going to attempt to make conversation when someone else shouted.
"You're Sylvia Potter!" a teenage boy said. He approached them with another boy about his age. Both were wearing jeans and t-shirts with the Ballycastle Bat logo on them. She figured it was probably right about the spring holiday from Hogwarts. Still, she shook her head.
"Nope," she said.
"Yes you are!" The boy said. "I'd recognize you anywhere!"
"Sorry, no," Sylvie said, figuring it best, especially after Quintus's comments about Leo, if she didn't ask just why he could recognize her anywhere.
"Come on," the boy said. "And that's Quintus Button."
"Is it?" Sylvie asked. Quintus smirked a bit but didn't respond past nodding.
"What are you two doing here? Shouldn't you be in Appleby?" the second boy asked. Sylvie raised he brows, wondering if being among Muggles was leading them to be less star struck than most teenage boys that attempted to talk to her.
"Double date with some friends. We ditched them for a few minutes. But we should be on our way," Sylvie said. She and Quintus stood at the same time.
"You're dating?" the first boy asked with a disappointed frown. Sylvie debated saying that she wasn't into pudgy teenagers with acne that got her first name wrong. But that seemed mean.
"It's complicated," she smiled. "But we should be getting back to our friends."
"Oh wait…can you sign something?" the boy asked. Sylvie half expected him to pull out modeling photos from Lord knows where. But instead Quintus conjured some paper. They both signed it and then, on a whim after a glance around, Sylvie transfigured the Bats t-shirt into an Arrows one before taking Quintus's hand and Apparating them further into the garden.
"Weird to be noticed at a Muggle Park," Quintus said as they reappeared.
"Yeah, Muggleborns home for spring break probably," Sylvie said.
"I'm sure," Quintus said. He paused for a moment then raised his brows. "It's complicated?"
"I'd rather not tell two teenage boys that my team captain begged me to give the girlfriend experience to a teammate so I don't have to read headlines in the Prophet about being a prostitute tomorrow," Sylvie said.
"The Prophet isn't dumb enough to call you a prostitute. Your dad would own them after he was done," Quintus laughed.
"Still, too much hassle," Sylvie said.
"But also, isn't there sex involved with a girlfriend experience?" Quintus asked. He was smirking at her, rather playfully, so she decided to play along rather than snap at him.
"Boyle only paid for the conservative Catholic version," Sylvie said. "I'm saving myself for marriage."
"Can I upgrade out of that tier?" Quintus asked
"Sorry," she said with her best pout. Which, to her infinite surprise, made him blush.
"All transactions are final."
"I see," Quintus said. "Well, for future reference, is there like a brochure or anything I can peruse?"
"Of course not. Can't leave evidence. If you're not aware of the tiers, then you don't deserve to be," Sylvie said.
"Well, I'm going to imagine that the highest tier involves a French Maid outfit," Quintus said.
"Don't be stupid," Sylvie scoffed. "That's only the third highest."
"Well I'll have to come up with guesses for the top two then," he laughed, shaking his head. He checked the time by lifting her left wrist up, which made Sylvie realize she was still holding his hand. Still, she didn't let go of it. "We should probably look for Boyle."
"No," Sylvie said. "We should give them a little more time alone. They were hitting it off more after lunch when they talked about the rides. You were too busy being a stick in the mud to notice."
"Well, I mean, they're all a bit dull compared to a broom," Quintus said. "And there's a lot of waiting around."
"Which won't kill you," Sylvie said. She realized they were near the forest area of the park. "Now come on, I want to go on the creepy ghost one with the drop again."
"Really?" he asked.
"It was my favorite," she said. "After that we can find Boyle."
"Fine," Quintus said. They were quiet for the rest of the walk. But he didn't let go of her hand until they were strapped into the ride.
They found Cassie and Boyle not too long after. Cassie commented that she had no idea how they managed that given that Boyle didn't have his mobile and didn't seem to know how to contact them. Sylvie shrugged it off.
Cassie dragged them to some sort of boat ride that resulted in Sylvie getting far too wet, and not in the amusing way. Quintus and Boyle seemed to have been clever enough to avoid being drenched. Sylvie, on the other hand, hadn't. And, more annoyingly, she couldn't just zap herself dry because that would be suspicious. But she did it anyway, at least after a half hour or so of waiting in the sun.
They had time for one more ride before the park closed, Cassie thought. When they magically managed to get right to the front of the line for the annoying happy one that irritated Sylvie, Cassie decided they had time for two more and they hit up the straight down drop one near it as well.
But after that the park closed. And then they found themselves at some restaurant where the food was delivered by coaster. It was an amusing gimmick. Sylvie had some sort of flatbread that was tolerable.
She drank while they ate and talked. Cassie quizzed them on every aspect of the park, seeing what they thought of everything. There was plenty of talk about how they enjoyed themselves and it was a good time. Cassie mentioned that there were many more parks both in England and on the continent that they could go to if the chance came.
Boyle, naturally, seemed thrilled by the thought. Quintus was reticent and Sylvie wasn't paying attention, finding herself distracted by the restaurant. Which seemed a little embarrassing given that she could focus on a snitch without any effort, but containers on rails did her in.
After the meal, which took about as long as three bottles of wine, they returned to the treehouse. There was some more drinking and some talk of the hot tub again, but Sylvie was tired after walking around all day and wanted to go to bed. She said she was going to change, fully intending to rejoin them. But once she put on her pajamas she didn't feel like going back out into the living room and instead went to bed.
Quintus came to check on her not too long after. He opened the door to the bedroom and wasn't too surprised to see the lights off. He saw he curled up into the bed and closed the door before returning to the others, giving them the news that his date had passed out. Boyle smirked that he was supposed to help her with that but Quintus shrugged it off as Cassie slapped him on the shoulder.
He finished his beer but felt like too much of a third wheel so he left the two of them on the couch and slipped into the bedroom. He didn't turn the light on, not wanting to disturb her as he changed into his own sleepwear.
He turned and looked at her in the bed then. Sleep and alcohol were weighing at his eyes. As carefully as he could he pulled the covers back on the opposite side of the bed and crawled underneath. He moved as slowly as he could manage, staying as far away from her as he could manage.
But the weight shifting must have disturbed her some way as she muttered something and rolled over. Quintus prepared himself for her annoyance and to be told to get out of bed but instead all he got was her hand landing on his chest. He peered down at it, her milky white skin, unmarred in the least by a day in the sun, and her perfectly manicured nails, which, he noticed, were painted Appleby blue. She said nothing. And after a few moments her breathing settled into a quiet rhythm and it occurred to him he was holding his breath.
He turned his head to look at her. She had her hair loose and part of it fell around her face as she slept. He wondered if she actually glowed in the moonlight or if that was just the moon reflecting off of her skin. He knew it had to be the moon, or his own imagination, but still, it made him pause as he looked at her.
He didn't know what to think. It was odd. He spent most of his time, most of his life, being assured of who he was. Both of his parents were confident people. And they'd imbued him with the same confidence. Not knowing what to think wasn't something he was used to. But now he had no idea.
There were precious few situations where he felt like he didn't know what to say, or how to act, or who to be. But that went away whenever she was around. And he didn't understand why.
He'd always fit in. Hell, more than that, he'd always been popular. The King of the room whenever he was involved. At Hogwarts, everyone outside of Slytherin revered him. And he'd always been the center of attention whenever he was in a room. Except, of course, when the Princess entered the room.
But at school that hadn't ever bothered him. She was a Slytherin. They ran in different circles. Hers were more exclusive than his. But they were different nonetheless. And he had Clara.
Except for the drunken night he'd spent with her. His first night with anyone. And it had been wonderful. Or so he'd thought. He'd been crushed in the morning when she was gone. And then she'd avoided him. He half wondered if he'd drunkenly dreamed it. And then he'd made this mistake of brooding about it. Which led to him eventually telling Clara about it, because she'd pried and because he wanted to tell someone about it.
He wasn't sure why he'd thought that was a good idea. Or how he'd expected Clara to react. What he'd gotten had been red flags, hidden behind rose-colored glasses.
But after Clara things evened out. He'd fit in immediately in the league. It hadn't felt any different than Hogwarts. Perhaps it was his surname, but people liked him, he made friends, he continued to be popular. And he loved every minute of it.
It was ironic, he thought. That he could get away with that. That he could enjoy being in the spotlight and everything that came with it, and no one would say a thing about it. But when she did it, she was spoiled, or a brat, or the Princess. He'd never thought about it at school, or really until she didn't want him to go straight to the media after Parker. But now, notions of it jumbled his mind.
And then she was in the league with him. And she'd looked so brilliantly happy about that while they'd done the youth camps. And then somehow too much wine had led to a bet with Everly about who could get her to go home with them. Somehow they'd both won. But she'd been gone in the morning and never given them the time of day.
It hadn't bothered Quintus that time. After all, it had just been a night of fun. There wasn't anything to it. Hell, it certainly wasn't the first time he'd gone to bed with a Quidditch starlet, or even two. And he'd continued with his routines after it, not thinking another thing of it.
But then Parker had happened. And that thought had been in his mind. It bothered him. He didn't want to think it bothered him more than it should have. Because he was sure it should have bothered him more. He should have done more. But he didn't.
The worst part was, he realized, that he'd continually look in the paper to see if she'd started. And he felt relieved whenever she didn't. Because he'd known just what she'd have to do to start. And he didn't want her to do that.
And then, months later, Hodge had asked him what he thought of her. They'd played against each other at Hogwarts. And they'd trained together in those years too. Quintus told the truth. Which he was sure came off as too glowing of an endorsement. But he still hadn't expected anything to come of it.
Then she was an Arrow. Which was great, he'd thought, as he couldn't lose to her anymore. But everything seemed odd in the locker room. She fit in right away. And she looked so happy to be playing again, the smiles he remembered from Hogwarts graced her face at nearly every moment. There was no question of that. But he felt odd, like he wasn't sure how to act again.
But she wasn't interested in him. And frankly, he wasn't interested in her either. He knew most people would have thought that was insane. I mean, just look at her, he thought. And so he did. And even asleep with her hair masking most of her features, she was still stunning. Her pink lips curled into a smile as she slept and he was almost positive she'd moved closer to him in the last few minutes.
Still, she wasn't his type. He liked more buxom women, curvier in general. Women with a softer look to them. Women with more bounce. And he tended to prefer blondes. Or at least lighter hair in general. And he liked tans, which he'd never seen on Sylvie. And women that appeared happier, more exuberant. And Sylvie, the dark-haired, pale, petite B cup was none of those things.
But then he'd started training with her again. And Sylvie's acerbic commentary and general annoyance with him came right back to the forefront. Something he'd remembered from as far back as when he'd take too long finding her while playing hide-and-seek after they sneaked away from their caregivers in Ballycastle.
He knew a lot about her. Far more about her than most of his teammates. She didn't talk about how she took lessons for both the clarinet and the piano until she'd moved out of her parent's home. It never came up, he guessed. But he'd known she'd done that for years. Or how she, like her father, liked to spend portions of days alone because it helped her focus.
He didn't know these things from her, though. Which might have been an issue. He'd learned them from family gatherings and off-handed comments. It wasn't like knowing her. She didn't let people know her. It wasn't intentional, he didn't think. It was just the Potter in her. Personal lives were personal.
Her comments, which he was convinced he'd find annoying if anyone else made them, instead made him smile. Being around her made him feel happy. She didn't have to do anything. But she did, regardless. She was too nice, although there was a façade of Potter indifference there, to not be a gracious friend.
And they were becoming closer. Even if he didn't realize it until too late. They were enjoying the runs and the practices, and the team activities, and being around each other. And then he'd blown it all and she hadn't talked to him for half a year.
And, to make matters worse, she'd blamed him for it! That was absurd. It wasn't his fault Parker was a pile of excrement. But he couldn't talk to her about it. She wouldn't talk to him about it. He just wanted to help.
It hadn't mattered. It had only been teasing from their new Chaser that even resulted in Sylvie acknowledging him again. And now, less than a year later. They were in bed together for the second night in a row.
That sounded a lot better than it was.
He still wasn't sure how Boyle had come up with this plan. He couldn't figure out if his excuses about Cassie were legit or not. Boyle went overboard on occasion, but most wealthy Quidditch players often did. A big deal vacation on a whim wasn't, well, a big deal. It was just something they could do. And given that Cassie wasn't supposed to know about his job, it probably seemed more extravagant than it was for them.
A double date was fine? Except Quintus, the only one who'd agreed to this, because frankly he'd agree to anything in most cases, wasn't seeing anyone at the time. He didn't think he'd have a very hard time rectifying that, in fact a few choices came immediately to mind. But when Boyle told him Sylvie agreed to go, he, well, he had no idea what to expect.
And she'd been brilliant. Because of course she had been, why would he have expected anything else? Sure, she'd pouted a bit about the car ride. But at any part where they were supposed to be a couple, she acted her way through it. To the point where he almost believed it.
Hell, less than a day ago she'd climbed into his lap in the hot tub without any fanfare or hesitation. He'd been so surprised he'd frozen.
But his mind screamed at him. It wasn't real. It was a show. It was Sylvie being Sylvie. It was Sylvie enjoying the attention, enjoying the spectacle, and doing it without any real consequences, because it was just some muggle woman she was performing for. And he was just, well, her prop.
But he didn't want to be. It took him a long time to realize that he desperately wanted it to be real. Part of him, a baser, more animalistic part of him, wanted to roll on top of her right now, pin her, and have her. In his mind she didn't resist, she'd welcomed him, she'd teased him that it took him long enough.
In reality, he knew, she'd kill him. And then her father would kill whatever was left. And, to make matters worse, his father would probably kill whatever was left of whatever was left. And they'd be right to. But that didn't make him wish for the fantasy any less.
He knew that wouldn't get him anywhere that night. So instead he closed his eyes and did his best to relax in the darkness of the room, to let the tension flow away from him and to hope sleep would take him, all while trying very hard to not think of her hand resting on his racing heart.
Sylvie woke first in the morning. She was sweaty and felt disgusting given that at some point during the evening someone had kicked every blanket on the bed over and onto her, most of them folding over to provide double the layering.
She tossed the blankets directly onto the culprit's sleeping form and went to shower. He was still asleep when she finished and she didn't bother to wake him. Instead she wandered into the kitchen, noticed Boyle and Cassie weren't up, and summoned Kreacher. The elf looked around disdainfully as she asked it to make a large breakfast and some coffee. He disappeared with a mumble of how this was exactly the type of thing mistress should be able to do herself. But he reappeared moments later with ingredients.
He finished making a large helping of eggs, toast, beans, bacon, and sausages along with a pot of coffee, at about the exact moment Cassie emerged from the bedroom. She yawned as she walked into the kitchen and peered at all of the food on the counter.
"Jesus Sylvie," the other woman said. "Did you do all of this yourself? When did you even have time to go get the eggs?"
"Always been an early riser," Sylvie shrugged the excuse.
"It smells amazing. You should have woken us up through. I'd have helped!" the woman argued. Sylvie raised her brows.
"So not going in there when you're both in there," Sylvie responded, nodding toward the bedroom. Cassie blushed but didn't manage a comment as Boyle emerged from the bedroom as well.
"You're up before Quintus?" he asked. "You must have really worn him out."
"Gross," Sylvie said. Cassie raised her brows a little as Boyle laughed.
"You made breakfast?" Boyle said. He kissed Cassie on the top of the head and led her into the kitchen.
"I did," Sylvie said. She filled a plate with eggs and bacon before pouring out a cup of coffee.
"Yum," Boyle said. He and Cassie each grabbed a plate and started in on the food. They were both very complimentary of her cooking and she could just see Kreacher rolling his eyes at her. She hoped he'd returned home and not simply decided to be invisible.
Eventually, she felt bad that Quintus wasn't alive and made up a plate for him. She caught him coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. She didn't bother averting her gaze. Of course, she'd seen it before. And he was in great shape. And they were going to spend the day at the water park anyway, so she'd be seeing him in swim trunks for most of it.
He blushed a little, not seeming to notice the food she was carrying, and said he'd join them in a moment. Sylvie returned to the kitchen with the food and waited for him. Once he emerged and started to eat she excused herself to change into her swim suit, a conservative wrap topped blue number that matched her eyes.
She threw a cover up on over it and found some sandals, sunglasses, and an oversized hat. They teased her for it, because of course the French girl had a hat laying around for the beach. She'd scoffed at them and reminded them that she was from the south of France, rather near the beaches.
The water park was less interesting to her than the amusement park. She let Quintus drag her down a few slides and on some other water ride, but she spent most of the time relaxing in a quiet corner. Quintus joined her for most of it, and she was pretty sure that he stared at her whenever he thought she was asleep.
It wasn't until they were leaving that a sign caught Sylvie's attention. And so she dragged Quintus off to golf. Cassie and Boyle followed and insisted on teams. Quintus and Sylvie won, which was great and all, but Quintus beat her, which was less so, even if she had to do her best to hide her annoyance.
After, Cassie drove them to a nearby restaurant. Quintus insisted on paying. And then they returned to their treehouse and spent the rest of the evening relaxing in the hot tub. Sylvie fell asleep on Quintus and woke in the middle of the night in bed, still in her swimsuit but with a towel wrapped around her. She ditched the towel and tossed herself over on her side, landing partially on Quintus. He groaned in his sleep, but she was too tired to make out any words or have any concern about him and she fell asleep in moments.
The returned to Appleby after breakfast the next morning. Sylvie found herself rather glad to be home. She checked her messages, which consisted mostly of congratulatory notes about her announcement as the reservist Seeker for the French national team. And a message from her parents asking if she wanted to come for dinner.
They were pleasant over dinner. Her father seemed rather interested in her trip to the amusement park with friends. As did Chloe. But her mother and Leo zoned it out and spent most of the evening talking about his post schooling prospects. Medical school seemed to be in his future. Sylvie teased him with a comment about how that was certainly an ancillary way to get into professional Quidditch. He rolled his eyes at her teasing and the sibling banter ended there.
She returned home after dinner and went to bed. She sighed happily as her head hit her pillow in her bed surrounded by her blankets. It was a lot nicer than some hotel bed. Mostly because of the cooling charm on the pillows and the softness charms on the blankets and the comfort charm on the mattress.
Of course, had she paid more attention in her seventh year she could have easily performed all of those charms. But that was an argument that she wasn't going to have for herself. Afterall, her career allowed her to pay someone to make sure they were all operating perfectly.
But something about it felt off. She tossed and turned for a few moments, feeling restless despite the wine from dinner weighing down her eyes. She threw her arm out across the bed out of annoyance and found herself disappointed when it landed on the cold, empty other half. She paused for a moment before pulling her arm back and cocooning herself into her blankets.
