chapter one. between here and elsewhere

THIS SUMMER VACATION was exactly the kind of break Alicia had been craving.

The French Riviera, or Côte d'Azur, with its breathtaking beauty, had felt like a dream. The manicured gardens stretched as far as the eye could see, and the pristine infinity pool seemed to merge seamlessly with the horizon of the glittering Mediterranean. Everywhere she looked was a postcard come to life - the kind of elegance that made it clear to Alicia she was right where she belonged.

The villa itself was a masterpiece, with its cool marble floors that seemed to hum under her feet, keeping the summer heat at bay. The vine-covered pergola, where she'd sip chilled lemonade in the soft afternoons, was her favorite spot. She would sit there, nestled in the dappled shade, letting the hours slip away as the sea breeze played with her hair. Every moment was dipped in luxury, from the crisp linens on her bed to the scent of lavender that hung in the air.

Her days had been a blur of indulgence. She'd spend the mornings lazily basking in the sun, her skin turning the perfect shade of sun-kissed gold, and the evenings were nothing short of magical. Exclusive dinner parties at the finest wizarding restaurants on the Riviera, where her parents mingled effortlessly with the crème de la crème of European magical society. Witches and wizards dressed in silks and jewels, exchanging hushed secrets and gossip, their laughter sparkling under the stars. Alicia had adored every second of it. It had been the epitome of sophistication, the life she knew she deserved.

But now, it all felt a million miles away. Gone were the marble floors, the lavender-scented evenings, the sense of ease that came with being somewhere so perfectly suited to her tastes.

Instead, she was here. Trudging - and truly, there was no other word for it - along an uneven dirt path that seemed designed to ruin her brand-new shoes. Each step felt like a personal affront, the stones jutting out to trip her up, the dust clinging to her every movement. With each unsteady step, Alicia muttered bitterly under her breath, as though that alone might stave off the rising tide of frustration building inside her.

With a dramatic huff, Alicia took a particularly exaggerated step over an especially nasty rock, glaring ahead at her family, who seemed entirely unbothered by the situation. How could they not care? They were supposed to be wizards, after all - where was the magic when you needed it?

Her eyes narrowed as she imagined herself back at the villa, the sun-warmed terrace calling her name. She could almost smell the fresh sea air, the lavender drifting lazily through the breeze as she lounged in blissful peace, exactly as summer should be.

But no. Instead of being wrapped in luxury, she was here, on this ridiculous hike, sweating.

"We could've stayed at least another week," she muttered dramatically, though she doubted anyone was listening. Not that it would stop her. "But no, we had to rush back for this ridiculous hike just so we'd be in time for the Quidditch World Cup. What's the point of having a summer home if we never actually spend summer there?"

The truth was, Alicia had been excited about the Quidditch World Cup finale. It had seemed like the perfect opportunity to don her finest dresses and shoes - Parisian, of course - and spend the day gossiping with her friends in the VIP stands. They'd watch two teams of barbaric men chasing after a few balls, while she and her friends sipped champagne and whispered about who was wearing what.

That was, until she'd realized the dates of the Quidditch World Cup and her idyllic vacation at the Riviera overlapped. Her perfect escape, ruined.

The memory of the golden light spilling over the villa's sun-warmed stone walls lingered in her mind as she stumbled over another rock, nearly toppling forward. She caught herself at the last moment, but not without a dramatic sigh - a bit louder this time, in case anyone cared to notice her suffering.

"Honestly, it's barbaric," she muttered, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Dragging us back from civilization to march through this... forest." The word 'forest' escaped her lips like a curse, as if she couldn't quite believe they were actually walking - on foot - through such a place. The scent of pine trees and damp earth replaced the fragrant ocean breeze she'd grown so accustomed to, and it only deepened her despair. This wasn't her world.

Her father turned around then, his face wearing an almost sheepish smile. Alicia narrowed her eyes slightly. He enjoyed this, didn't he? Watching her suffer through the indignity of this trek.

But, of course, Archer Crockford could never bear to see his little girl truly upset for long. He was famous in the family for caving to his children's demands, especially when it came to his youngest. "I promise you, sweetie, all of this will be worth it when we get there," he said, his voice soothing.

Alicia let out another exaggerated sigh, one that nearly rattled her whole frame. That was not the answer she wanted, though she couldn't quite place what she was hoping to hear. Anything but that, probably.

Still, she carried on, a few steps behind him, letting her hand drift out to clutch the back of his woolen coat. Her freshly manicured nails - glossy and perfect - dug slightly into the expensive material. A little reminder that she was being dragged through the wilderness.

Ahead, her mother strode with the grace of someone completely untouched by the inconvenience of the outdoors. Of course. Her mother, Stella Crockford, was immaculate, as always. Her perfectly coiffed blonde hair pulled into a tight chignon, her linen robes crisp and spotless, even after a hike through this dreadful forest. It was as if the dust and dirt had taken one look at her and decided they were far too unworthy to mar her elegance. Alicia watched in awe, unable to comprehend how her mother made it look so easy.

And her brother, walking just ahead of them both, was somehow managing to enjoy himself, that grin plastered on his face. It was as if the uneven path beneath their feet didn't bother him at all. Then again, he lived for Quidditch. Of course he wasn't suffering like she was. Traitor.

With a huff, Alicia clutched the strap of her designer handbag a little tighter. It had been imported from Paris just a month ago, a delicate piece of art that belonged nowhere near dirt paths and pine needles. The smooth leather under her fingers was the only thing tethering her to the life she had been so cruelly yanked away from.

"Honestly, we could've Apparated," Alicia declared, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear this time, in case anyone doubted her ability to come up with a solution that would have spared them this torture.

"Where's the fun in that?" Mason piped up for the first time, sounding out of breath but, naturally, still smirking. Smug, Alicia thought, as if he's enjoying this ordeal. She cast a withering glance his way, but he didn't seem to notice - or care.

"You'll enjoy it once we're settled," their father chimed in, ever the optimist. His voice brimmed with excitement, as if this trip was some grand adventure. "You know, they've got all kinds of enchantments on the tents this year - luxuries you wouldn't believe!" He gestured wildly with his hands, his enthusiasm bubbling over. Alicia wasn't convinced. Tents. No matter how enchanted, it wasn't exactly the villa she'd been plucked from.

She forced a half-hearted smile, not wanting to dampen his mood, though inwardly, she doubted anything would make up for the fact that she wasn't lounging beside a pool. Her tan, she imagined with a pang of anxiety, would be fading by the time they reached the World Cup.

The path became steeper as they began their climb up Stoatshead Hill, the ground uneven and riddled with hidden rabbit holes. Alicia's new shoes weren't made for this kind of terrain, and she stumbled more than once, cursing under her breath every time. Her feet sank into thick tuffets of grass, which clung to her heels, making each step more difficult than the last.

Each breath Alicia took felt sharp in her chest, and her legs ached with the unfamiliar strain of walking uphill. The French Riviera hadn't exactly prepared her for hiking. Her breaths came out in uneasy little whines, just quiet enough to go unnoticed by her family.

Archer, who had been leading the group with the energy of a man half his age, suddenly stopped and turned around, grinning as though the entire thing was some grand joke. "Do you hear that?" he asked, cupping his ear in a dramatic gesture. Alicia shot him a withering look, her confusion plain on her face.

She didn't even bother to strain her ears for the sound. What could there possibly be to hear? The rustling of leaves? The chirping of crickets? She was hardly in the mood for her father's theatrics. Mason, on the other hand, perked up, spinning in clumsy circles as if he expected a dragon to swoop out of the sky at any moment.

Stella, their mother, looked at Archer with that familiar adoring expression that always made Alicia and Mason gag - often quite literally, in unison. That look of undying devotion, as if he could do no wrong, was a staple of their parents' relationship. Alicia couldn't help but roll her eyes, though part of her envied how easy it was for her mother to remain calm and composed, even here, miles away from the comfort and luxury of their usual life.

Instead of elaborating on the mysterious sound, Archer picked up the pace, taking Alicia's hand and tugging her forward. Alicia let out a loud, dramatic whine, hoping he'd take the hint and let her go, but her father merely chuckled, unfazed by her resistance. She had no choice but to stumble along behind him, her carefully styled hair starting to frizz at the edges.

At last, they reached the top of Stoatshead Hill, where a large group of people had already gathered. Alicia blinked, taking in the scene. There were familiar faces among the crowd - more than she expected, honestly - and she squinted, trying to place them.

Archer waved enthusiastically at the group of people gathered at the top of the hill. Two men, Amos Diggory and Arthur Weasley, stood among them, turning to greet him with broad smiles. Alicia recognized them both, though her interest in their cheerful reunion was fleeting at best.

Her father had met Arthur through work, she mused, watching the exchange. Over time, their occasional professional interactions had blossomed into something of a friendship, their families mingling at dinner parties and holidays. Alicia had always found the Weasleys charming, if a bit... rustic compared to her own more polished upbringing. She supposed he had met Amos in a similar fashion, though she couldn't recall ever witnessing her father and Amos exchange more than the most perfunctory of pleasantries. Did they really even know each other? The thought was brief but curious.

"Diggory! Weasley! Where have you two been?" Archer's booming voice cut through the chatter as he clasped Arthur's hand and slapped Amos on the back. "Haven't seen you two all summer!" His tone was as jovial as ever, the kind that drew people into his orbit whether they wanted to be there or not.

Alicia barely registered the men's laughter, nor her father's enthusiastic catching up. The sounds blurred into the background as her eyes found something far more interesting - or rather, someone. Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

A sudden burst of energy shot through her, and before she could think twice, her feet carried her toward them. She quickened her pace, her steps far less graceful than she would've liked on the uneven ground, and before she knew it, her shoe caught on a root. With a small yelp, she stumbled forward, right into Ron's arms.

She could've caught herself, of course, but where was the fun in that?

Alicia gasped, clutching onto Ron's shoulders dramatically, making her clumsiness seem like the most natural occurrence in the world. She stayed in his arms a beat longer than necessary, poorly masking the fall as a hug.

Ron, to his credit, took it all in stride. His arms steadied her, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Miss me too much, Crockford?" His voice held that teasing lilt that Alicia had come to expect from him - familiar, warm.

Alicia rolled her eyes, though a genuine smile tugged at her lips. She straightened her back, brushing off the imaginary wrinkles from her blouse. "You wish, Ronald," she quipped, though her tone lacked its usual bite. "I'm just exhausted from this uncivilized walk through the wilderness. Truly barbaric." She gave his messy jacket a once-over, smoothing out the rumpled fabric as if that would somehow make them both feel a bit more put together.

Ron chuckled, stepping back as Alicia patted his shoulder lightly before moving on.

And then - Harry.

Alicia stopped short, her dramatic flair deflating slightly. What now? Her heart gave an uncomfortable flutter, and for the briefest of moments, she found herself uncertain. Unlike with Ron, where teasing came as naturally as breathing, Harry was... different. He was her friend, sure, but there was always something unspoken between them, something that made her interactions with him feel stilted.

They stood awkwardly for a moment, neither sure what to do. Harry gave a small, hesitant smile, his arms twitching like he was preparing for a hug, but Alicia - ever formal - extended her hand instead.

Harry's brow furrowed for a second, but he recovered quickly, accepting her hand with a soft shake. His grip was gentle, almost unsure, and Alicia was certain she could feel the awkwardness radiating off of them both.

The silence stretched, growing heavier by the second, and just when she thought she might internally combust from the discomfort, Hermione appeared, her timing nothing short of perfect.

"Hi, Alicia!" Hermione greeted her with a bright smile and a polite wave, stepping into the conversation like a lifeline.

"Kids!" Archer called out, his voice carrying over the crisp air, breaking through the conversation Alicia was having. Alicia and Mason glanced at each other before trudging over.

Archer stood next to Stella, who was smiling politely at two tall figures silhouetted against the backdrop of the starry sky.

"This is Amos Diggory," Archer introduced with the air of someone who was far more excited than the situation called for. "I don't suppose you've met," he added as Alicia and Mason approached. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." Archer sounded as though he was reading off an official placard, eyes gleaming with pride for his acquaintance. Alicia plastered on a polite smile, offering the respect her father would no doubt expect.

"And this is his son, Cedric. You might know him," Archer added casually. Of course, Alicia knew him. Tall, handsome, Quidditch star - the works.

Amos, however, seemed more focused on the task at hand. In one of his hands, he held an old, beat-up boot - Alicia assumed it must be their Portkey - and with the other, he extended a polite handshake.

Alicia shook his hand, nodding slightly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Diggory," she said, her tone formal. Beside her, Mason did the same, though he seemed far less interested in the introductions than Alicia. He muttered something that might have passed as a greeting, his eyes flicking up to Cedric in mild admiration before returning to the boot in Amos's hand.

Their polite exchange was cut short by Arthur Weasley's voice. "Must be nearly time," he said quickly, pulling out his watch and squinting at it. There was a slight tension in his voice, and Alicia wondered if he was nervous about the Portkey. She certainly was.

"Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?" Arthur asked, his watch hand twitching slightly.

Amos shook his head, glancing around the small group. "No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already, and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets." His tone was matter-of-fact, the kind of man used to organizing things with precision. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," Archer said, checking his own watch now, the sense of anticipation growing. "Yes, it's a minute off... We'd better get ready..." His gaze shifted to his children, eyes softening slightly. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all. A finger will do."

Alicia nodded, though her heart was pounding faster now. This would be her first time using a Portkey, and she couldn't help the anxious knot forming in her stomach.

With some difficulty - owing to the bulky backpacks they all carried - the thirteen of them crowded around the old boot Amos held out. Alicia found herself wedged between Mason and her mother, the chilly breeze cutting through her robes. The silence that fell over the group was thick, expectant, as if everyone was holding their breath in unison.

Arthur's voice broke the tension, soft but clear. "Three... two... one..."

And then it happened.

Alicia's feet left the ground so quickly that she barely had time to react. She had to bite her lip to stifle a scream as the world around her seemed to vanish. A howl of wind roared in her ears, and swirling colors rushed past in a blur. Her forefinger felt like it was glued to the boot, pulling her forward at a speed that made her stomach churn. It was like being caught in a vortex, spinning through the air with no sense of direction.

Her mind raced. This is awful, this is awful, this is-

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

Her feet slammed into the ground with a force that rattled through her entire body. She gasped, stumbling as the world snapped back into place. The Portkey landed with a heavy thud, narrowly missing her head, and she glared at it as though it had done so on purpose. Of all the ways to travel...

AUTHOR'S NOTE!

so... how does one - hypothetically - write shorter chapters? because this is a CHORE, but i also can't help but overdescribe everythingggg.

aywaysssss... this is the first chapter!!!! i honestly like it way more than i thought i would.

alicia might be a bit annoying, and veryyyy dramatic, but flawed main characters for the win!!!! also, despite being a little bitchy, she truly is a good and kind person. also also, room for a redemption arc!!! yayyyy!

and slowburn with harry!!!! she's very commanding and witty and bossy with everybody and than with harry she's just... nervous. like girl you are in loooove!!!