A/N : Why hello there :) This is my first fanfic, so please be nice! <3
She stretched her legs out, humming along to the song blasting out of her muggle radio. She flipped over another page of one of her mother's old fashion magazines - not her ideal choice of reading material, but it was either that or a Quidditch book written by her father himself.
This girl was Abigail Wood, daughter of the famous stars Katie Bell and Oliver Wood. But unlike both of her parents and her older sister Ellie, she absolutely detested Quidditch. Not only because everyone expected her to like it, but also because she had traumatising memories of being pushed off of her miniature broom when she was just 3 years old by a certain Mr Hugo Weasley.
Surprisingly, she and Hugo had been merely acquaintances since they had started Hogwarts 4 years ago, shocking both sets of parents. Growing up, they had been inseparable (along with Lily Potter), and the adults saw them as that couple. You know, the couple who had been together for as long as anyone could remember, and lived happily ever after? Yes, well, needless to say, that all went out the window when they joined the famous magical academy and got into different groups of friends, causing their friendship to die.
It confused the even the two, since they both managed to remain friends with Lily (who was in neither of their new group of friends), but not with each other. The only time the two talked was at 'family functions' at The Burrow (because the Wood's were regarded as family to the Weasley-Potter clan), when they were shoved together and forced to reminisce about old times, half of which they could barely remember. It was tedious - all of the people there trying to force them back together, and re-ignite the spark of their friendship.
And she was now, supposed to be preparing for one of those events. It was nearing the end of summer, and Molly Weasley had been organizing a family dinner exactly a week before they were all due to go back to school ever since her first 'grandchild' Teddy Lupin joined the school.
"Abbie..." her father said, attempting to be stern. He never managed it when it came to his youngest daughter - she was his little angel. "Don't you think you had better start getting ready soon?"
"Yes daaaaaad," she groaned, heaving her small frame up from her bed and throwing the copy of Witch Weekly in her hand onto the floor by her bed. Oliver laughed at her over-dramatic behaviour, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
"It's not going to be that bad, Princess." he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. She mumbled a few choice words into his shoulder, which he chose to ignore.
"It's easy for you to say." she hesitated, wondering whether now would be a good time to tell her dad about what had happened with him the night before they came home for summer. Who else would she have to tell, after all? Plus, maybe if she told him, he would have some sympathy for her and not make her go.
She looked up into his chocolate brown eyes, trying to decide if she could trust him or not. She paused for a moment, before realising that this was her dad - he'd probably make her go, and give her no choice but to talk to him and fix everything. Well, that most certainly wasn't going to happen..
"Fiiine, I'll go get ready," she groaned, pulling herself away from him and towards her too-big-for-comfort wardrobe.
"That'a girl," he chuckled again, pointing at a deep pink dress that Katie had bought Abbie for Christmas. "How about that one?"
"I suppose.." she pulled the dress off of the hanger, The colour reminded her of her mother last Christmas - the way she made them all dress up as Christmas fairies, and they all acted like they were 6 again. It was as well the only Christmas in recent years where they didn't go and visit family - it was just the 4 Woods, and such a fun day.
"Be down in half an hour, okay?" Oliver left, so that she could get ready. She stripped down and pulled the dress on, curling her dark hair and putting on a bit of make-up. It was always hard getting ready for family events - if you were dressed up really well, then everyone assumed that you were trying to impress someone (it was always Hugo in her case), but if you didn't make the effort then everyone made a big deal of it. She had to try and find the right balance, and after years of trying and getting help from her mum, she'd finally managed it by herself.
"Right girls," Oliver said, addressing his two daughters. "We'd better hurry up and go." He looked around vacantly, getting the feeling that he was missing something. He sighed, grabbed a hand of each of his two girls, and apparated to The Burrow, preparing for the hoard of family members that would greet them there.