Thursday Evening
Late August 1921
Things were better. All things considered. The fresh air and quiet had done wonders for Ever, calming her nerves and helping organize the things in her brain. Not back to normal, but better.
One thing had become abundantly clear to the young girl while working through her memories, she had seen something at home that she couldn’t remember. Flashes of an incident were still jumbled in her brain, but focusing on the setting and the people made it easier. Her father’s office was easy to recognize. The people were harder. Two strange men and her father. Her mother was also in one flash, bringing in a tray of tea. The specifics of what they were talking about were gone.
During her time at camp, Ever had taken to drawing and writing in a journal. There was a lot of nonsense. Jumbled words and scribbles, but getting some of the static out of her head helped other things slide into place. Discussing these findings out loud was more difficult. Talking was still not easy, her words coming out random and mixed up. It was frustrating, so typically she just didn’t try.
Ever chose to not alert Alice to the happenings until she had more information. After arriving home from camp in late August, Ever ventured into her father’s office one afternoon while both her mother and father were out of the house.
The house was quiet, a summer storm raging outside all that could be heard. The rain hitting the windows with a pitter patter, the wind whistling through the trees, thunder and lightning booming and lighting up the sky. The storm made Ever feel safer as she went straight to her fathers desk, opening drawers and looking in files. She had been at it for over an hour before anything caught her eye.
As a Ravenclaw, the girl was smart, but after the trauma of last term, it took longer for her brain to process the information in front of her.
Thatcher Ravenstone was a world renowned maker of professional broomsticks. Ravenstone Flightworks made brooms for all of the top quidditch teams, the newest and best models going for hundreds of galleons. The most expensive she knew of was just over 500g, and currently being used by the top team in Ireland.
Knowing this, made the invoice in her hand even more strange. It was for an order of ten brooms for a German quidditch team. The brooms were good quality, one of the best, but not the top of the line. What made her brain work into overdrive was that the brooms were each invoiced for 1500g.
On many occasions Ever had helped her mother file invoices. The less glamorous side of the business, so she knew that everything was line-itemed. Extended warranty, custom colors or engraving, special order wood or twigs. This invoice had a few of those specifics, which just added to the total, so she knew it wasn’t built into the price of the broom. 1500g for one broom was unheard of.
Flashes of memories assaulted her brain.
“I PAID YOU TRIPLE THE NORMAL PRICE. YOU PROMISED ME…”
“You and I both know I can only do SO MUCH!” Her dad had yelled.
“WE SIGNED A CONTRACT!”
Ever massaged her temples, a headache brewing in the middle of the storm. The invoice in front of her crumpled up tight in her fist while her brain tried to decipher what this all meant. The sound of the front door opening and voices yelling had Ever’s eyes bulging out of her head. She ran for the closet in the office, just as the door to the room opened and her father walked in with another man she vaguely recognized. Both soaked to the bone from the rain.
With a wave of his wand both were dry in the blink of an eye.
“Take a seat Smith, would you like a drink?”
The two men were negotiating. Term for a new order of brooms. Ever shook in the closet as the words jumbled in her head. They made sense, she knew what they were discussing, but how it could be true she didn’t understand.
Looking at the paper still clutched in her hand clicked into place. Her father was illegally altering brooms to help teams win. Spells for speed or course correction. Stabilization charms and aerodynamic spells. All things outlawed in the quidditch community, but apparently not easily detectable. Cores built into the broom stick to add to the strength or speed.
A loud boom of thunder shook the house, plunging the room into darkness. The sliver of light once helping Ever see was gone. The shock of the sudden change caused an audible gasp from the girl, her heart racing with fright. Before she knew what was happening the closet door was flung open and her father was standing in front of her, wand lit looking furious.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” he asked, acid dripping with his words. Thatcher ripped the paper out of her hand, his anger increasing when he realized what she had read and heard during his meeting. Grasping Ever by the arm, he pulled her out of the closet seething with anger. “How DARE YOU eavesdrop on my meeting. And looking through my files? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!” He was up in her face now, she had never seen him so angry in all hear years under his roof.
The other man was gone, it was just Ever and her father. Tears ran down her face, terrified of what he might do next. “Sorry. I. Know don't, can’t. Sorry.” Her words still a jumbled mess, only made worse with the stressful situation.
“Stupid IDIOT girl. You listen to me. You will NEVER snoop in my files again, DO YOU HEAR ME? What you saw means NOTHING. Everything about this day will be gone from your memory.”
His wand came up to her head, his breaths coming out in pants, his eyes filled with anger. “Obliviate!” He said, just as Ever’s mind went blank.
Late August 1921
Things were better. All things considered. The fresh air and quiet had done wonders for Ever, calming her nerves and helping organize the things in her brain. Not back to normal, but better.
One thing had become abundantly clear to the young girl while working through her memories, she had seen something at home that she couldn’t remember. Flashes of an incident were still jumbled in her brain, but focusing on the setting and the people made it easier. Her father’s office was easy to recognize. The people were harder. Two strange men and her father. Her mother was also in one flash, bringing in a tray of tea. The specifics of what they were talking about were gone.
During her time at camp, Ever had taken to drawing and writing in a journal. There was a lot of nonsense. Jumbled words and scribbles, but getting some of the static out of her head helped other things slide into place. Discussing these findings out loud was more difficult. Talking was still not easy, her words coming out random and mixed up. It was frustrating, so typically she just didn’t try.
Ever chose to not alert Alice to the happenings until she had more information. After arriving home from camp in late August, Ever ventured into her father’s office one afternoon while both her mother and father were out of the house.
The house was quiet, a summer storm raging outside all that could be heard. The rain hitting the windows with a pitter patter, the wind whistling through the trees, thunder and lightning booming and lighting up the sky. The storm made Ever feel safer as she went straight to her fathers desk, opening drawers and looking in files. She had been at it for over an hour before anything caught her eye.
As a Ravenclaw, the girl was smart, but after the trauma of last term, it took longer for her brain to process the information in front of her.
Thatcher Ravenstone was a world renowned maker of professional broomsticks. Ravenstone Flightworks made brooms for all of the top quidditch teams, the newest and best models going for hundreds of galleons. The most expensive she knew of was just over 500g, and currently being used by the top team in Ireland.
Knowing this, made the invoice in her hand even more strange. It was for an order of ten brooms for a German quidditch team. The brooms were good quality, one of the best, but not the top of the line. What made her brain work into overdrive was that the brooms were each invoiced for 1500g.
On many occasions Ever had helped her mother file invoices. The less glamorous side of the business, so she knew that everything was line-itemed. Extended warranty, custom colors or engraving, special order wood or twigs. This invoice had a few of those specifics, which just added to the total, so she knew it wasn’t built into the price of the broom. 1500g for one broom was unheard of.
Flashes of memories assaulted her brain.
“I PAID YOU TRIPLE THE NORMAL PRICE. YOU PROMISED ME…”
“You and I both know I can only do SO MUCH!” Her dad had yelled.
“WE SIGNED A CONTRACT!”
Ever massaged her temples, a headache brewing in the middle of the storm. The invoice in front of her crumpled up tight in her fist while her brain tried to decipher what this all meant. The sound of the front door opening and voices yelling had Ever’s eyes bulging out of her head. She ran for the closet in the office, just as the door to the room opened and her father walked in with another man she vaguely recognized. Both soaked to the bone from the rain.
With a wave of his wand both were dry in the blink of an eye.
“Take a seat Smith, would you like a drink?”
The two men were negotiating. Term for a new order of brooms. Ever shook in the closet as the words jumbled in her head. They made sense, she knew what they were discussing, but how it could be true she didn’t understand.
Looking at the paper still clutched in her hand clicked into place. Her father was illegally altering brooms to help teams win. Spells for speed or course correction. Stabilization charms and aerodynamic spells. All things outlawed in the quidditch community, but apparently not easily detectable. Cores built into the broom stick to add to the strength or speed.
A loud boom of thunder shook the house, plunging the room into darkness. The sliver of light once helping Ever see was gone. The shock of the sudden change caused an audible gasp from the girl, her heart racing with fright. Before she knew what was happening the closet door was flung open and her father was standing in front of her, wand lit looking furious.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” he asked, acid dripping with his words. Thatcher ripped the paper out of her hand, his anger increasing when he realized what she had read and heard during his meeting. Grasping Ever by the arm, he pulled her out of the closet seething with anger. “How DARE YOU eavesdrop on my meeting. And looking through my files? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!” He was up in her face now, she had never seen him so angry in all hear years under his roof.
The other man was gone, it was just Ever and her father. Tears ran down her face, terrified of what he might do next. “Sorry. I. Know don't, can’t. Sorry.” Her words still a jumbled mess, only made worse with the stressful situation.
“Stupid IDIOT girl. You listen to me. You will NEVER snoop in my files again, DO YOU HEAR ME? What you saw means NOTHING. Everything about this day will be gone from your memory.”
His wand came up to her head, his breaths coming out in pants, his eyes filled with anger. “Obliviate!” He said, just as Ever’s mind went blank.
