23/02/2001
The Rousseau's Residence, Kingswear, Devon
¬

[ s e c o n d   d a t e ]

"SO... HOW WAS IT? WAS HE OKAY? DID YOU WORK OUT WHATEVER PROBLEM YOU HAD BETWEEN YOU TWO?"

Elinor swallowed the bit of Honey French Toast she had in her mouth before replying, "Eat your breakfast, E."

"Come on, Ellie!"

"It was... It was okay."

Ezme smirked, "You hesitated."

"I did not!"

"You did!"

"Les filles, keep the tone down," Bielle warned.

"Ellie, are we going to expect his arrival again anytime soon?"

"He, uh..." Elinor knew she must be blushing red right now, "He said he'll pick me up Sunday morning. But, I don't know. Could be rubbish."

"OUI!" Ezme squealed, "Let's go on a double date, Elle!"

"No! We're just friends... We're getting to know each other."

"Izz wonderful newz," Etienne said. His plate of toast was cleared and he was dabbing his lips with a napkin. "You're old enough to find a companion. Preferably not him, but... Love is love. I guez I can't blame you for love."

"Why not him?" Ezme asked, "Other than his horrendous choice of clothing, Monsieur Weasley seemed like a pretty decent man."

"A man my daughter yell 'get out' at eez not a decent man, I'm zure."

"Papa..."

Elinor watched as Etienne left the table and proceeded to wash his cutleries in the sink.

"Oops," Ezme leaned in and whispered, "Papa still can't forget about your fight with him at the Deli last week. I think he's just afraid you will pass out again."

Elinor sighed.

"Tell Monsieur Weasley to put up a nicer front or he won't get his blessings."

"That... won't be a problem," Elinor said.

It wasn't like they were dating for real.

Just for three months.

☆★☆

25/02/2001
The Rousseau's Residence, Kingswear, Devon
¬

"WHAT TIME IS HE PICKING YOU UP?"

Elinor shrugged.

George didn't really say specifically what time he was coming, so she decided to be prepared in advance. She was already bundled in jeans, knitted sweater, and beanie, rolling around on her couch with the Voyage paperback in hands since seven.

Yes, she was that excited to go. Don't tell anyone.

"So, it's true?" Cameron said, standing behind Ezme, "You're seeing that guy?"

"We're just getting to know each other."

"That's called seeing each other. It's the same thing."

"I don't think it will last long," Elinor said, flipping onto the next page.

"Ellie..."

Elinor looked up and eyed Cameron in scrutiny, "No, I'm not talking about that."

"About what?" Ezme asked.

About the brain surgery. About three months.

"Nothing."

"Why... Why him, Ellie?"

Elinor couldn't answer that. She didn't even know why there was a part of her that looked forward to meeting him.

"...He's nice."

"You're kidding?"

She flipped onto the next page. "Unfortunately, no."

Right on cue, a discordant honking noise blared from outside. Ezme immediately ran to open the garage door. "Monsieur Weasley!"

"Good morning, mon ami! Just call me George."

"Nice ride!"

Elinor put on her shoes and walked out to follow Ezme.

George was now wearing a pink floral shirt, short beige pants, sunglasses, and sandals. He was riding a battered light blue Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe with one hand on the steering wheel and the other's elbow jutted out of the window sill.

Elinor raised her eyebrows in amusement, "You're going to the beach?"

"No, we're going someplace else. It's a secret."

"Aren't you cold? It's February."

"It's fine. Hey, Marco!"

Cameron nodded curtly, "Weasley."

"I'll take her back before nightfall. Will you please send my best regards to Mr. and Mrs. Rousseau? Come on, Ellie."

Ezme pushed her into the car and George immediately pressed his foot on the pedal, giving her no space or time to even hesitate.

They could hear Ezme's giddy yell as they turned into the first corner, "Bye-bye, you two! Have fun!"

"You drive?" Elinor asked, "This is a— a Muggle car."

George shrugged, "My father has a thing about Muggles. This is his most prized possession."

"And he lets you ride it?"

"As long as he doesn't go to the garage and see that it's missing, yes," George said, grinning at Elinor.

Elinor scoffed before chuckling, "You thief. Where are you taking me?"

"Secret."

Then something clicked in her mind and she screamed.

"Ellie, what is it?!"

This was the car that flew. Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter had flown this car from King's Cross to Hogwarts on her third year.

"Let me out— let me out—"

She repeatedly pulled on the handle in panic. It finally clicked open after George pulled over in front of a row of housings and unlocked the door. Elinor immediately stumbled out, catching the much needed breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Hey!" George came out of his side of the car and ran over to the pavement, "What's wrong?"

"That car—" Elinor bent over, hands placed on her knees, "That car— can fly."

"Oh... Oh." George said, like it wasn't a big deal. Like it wasn't even a deal at all. "I'm not going to fly it."

"You're not going to?! But it can, right?"

"...Yes. Well, it could. Dad salvaged its dump from the Forbidden Forest, and it was pretty much a lost cause. The wheels still roll, though."

"I'm not getting on that thing!"

"It's a car, Ellie. Come on! We can't get where we're going on foot."

Elinor shook her head, "No. No..."

George sighed. This was way harder than he thought it would be.

"I'm just... gonna go home," Elinor announced, but George caught her wrist and placed a hand on his chest, as if he was making a pledge.

"Ellie Rousseau, I promise you this car can't fly, won't fly, and will never fly, okay? George Weasley is an excellent driver."

"Do you even have a license?!"

"Not... quite. I'm self-taught."

"Are you kidding me?"