I'd always known there was a chance what I knew about this world's future could change, or have changes I'd not yet noticed. After all, my very presence should have caused ridiculous numbers of butterflies to occur. Assuming time worked liked that. This was a magical world, who knew how multiverse shenanigans actually worked!
But I didn't think my actions here, right now, in England would influence the outcome of a foreign country's match that would take place in Sweden. How far would the ripples actually go, though? I just didn't know.
In the end, after thinking over everything, I decided to take the plunge, and had bet all of the money my mother had given me for my birthday on Denmark tying with England in their first match of the European Football Cup. If I lost? Well, that would suck, and hurt a tiny bit, but a thousand galleons, or five thousand pounds, wasn't actually all that much in the grand scheme of things. I was making more in a month or two from sales with my potion creams. But if I won the gamble? Well, I would be rich.
'In the event things play out as I knew them, and Denmark draws with England zero to zero, then I will put my winnings from that bet onto Denmark winning the whole shebang,' I decided, watching with bated breath as the game played out on the screen.
"Man, I've never seen you so excited for a game before," Sam chuckled as he sat down next to me, a bowl of popcorn in his hands.
"Let's just say I've got skin in the game," I replied evasively, and my best friend squinted at me in response. Then, he glanced about, making sure his parents and sister (or any of the neighbors who'd come over to watch the game on the biggest screen on the block) weren't paying attention.
"Did you put money on this?" he asked in an incredulous whisper, making me smirk.
"Perhaps," I demurred softly.
"Aren't you always complaining about people who bet irresponsibly and have gambling debts?" Sam inquired suspiciously.
"True, but consider this less a gamble, and more… an experiment," I replied. Sam blinked at me, then his eyes widened.
"You… you used Divination to predict the outcome didn't you?" he guessed, and I grinned.
"Guilty," I confirmed. While this was mostly related to my future knowledge, I did use the rune bones to double-check and try to confirm my story. And while the answers were vague, they seemed hopeful at the very least.
"Whoa, that's… dumb. Or brilliant? I dunno which," Sam grunted.
"Yeah, that's the question, isn't it? We'll just have to see if it pays off," I chuckled, before turning serious again. "Now, however, there's only one thing left to do."
"What's that?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
"Now? I need to grab some of your dad's BBQ grilled chicken before it's all gone!" I declared, causing Sam to snort.
"Good luck with that," he said, waving me off. "Bring me back a drink, oh great conqueror."
"Sure. Water or soda?"
"Fruit punch," he replied, and it was my turn to snort.
"You mean Mr. Pond's very clearly spiked punch?" I asked.
"Obviously," Sam nodded.
"Alright. One 'fruit punch' coming up," I told him, getting off the couch. It was a slow stretch of the match, anyways. Things would be interesting closer to the end. Right now, though, I needed food.
"Oh, hey, Kate," I hummed as I found Sam's sister standing by the platter of grilled meats. Burgers, hot dogs, and chicken lay in a glorious pile on a table that had a lot of other snack foods available. She was looking over the food with an intense look, and she jerked in surprise, not having noticed me.
"Oh! Ed! Hi!" she said.
"Mind if I grab some chicken?" I asked, and she nodded before stepping aside, letting me take a few legs. "Awesome. I have no idea how your dad manages to make chicken so juicy and flavorful, but I am always super jealous of it."
"Yeah, it's pretty good," she nodded. "I mean, he has to be good at something in the kitchen, right?"
I laughed in agreement. Mr. Parson wasn't a terrible cook, but he did fit the stereotypical husband who couldn't make food to save his life in a kitchen, but when it came time to man a grill, he was a pro.
"So, how are things?" I asked Kate as I stocked up on chips and dip (No matter how long I'd been British for, I could never bring myself to calling chips 'crisps.' Thank God for Occlumency to keep me from looking too American).
"Um, I'm doing fine. School's going okay," Kate replied, fidgeting a bit.
"Ugh, yeah, school. Do you need any more tutoring help?" I offered.
"No, no, I'm good," she denied with a rapid shake of her head. I shrugged and accepted her answer. I'd make the offer to her later if she needed it. Or maybe to Mrs. Parson.
"Great. I know how much it sucks, but it's important, unfortunately," I said. "Any idea what you want to do in the future?"
"No, not like you and Sam do," Kate sighed. "I just… I'm not sure."
"Well, that's alright, not everyone knows right off the bat. And I had to think things over long and hard before coming to my current decisions," I told her.
She snorted a 'yeah, right,' under her breath, which I politely ignored.
"So, uh, Ed, I heard you have a girlfriend?" she asked tentatively, and I resisted the urge to wince.
"That's right," I replied. "Err. Well, maybe. It's complicated."
"Complicated?" Kate asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
"Yeah, I know Delilah because she's a… let's call her a work buddy. I helped her out at a party, and then again after it, and we hit it off. And in return she's been helping me meet people that can help with my business. Are we dating, though? I'm not entirely sure. I don't think we've had any actual dates, now that I look back on it."
"Is that so?" Kate asked, suddenly turning eager.
"The thing is, we're both attracted to each other," I continued, trying to let Sam's sister down gently. "We've kissed and all that, but never gone further, or really talked about it. I think that's because her dad is… kinda an asshole who'd disapprove of us dating. Pretty sure he's not thrilled about us hanging out or working together, either."
"Oh. I see," Kate muttered despondently.
"Sorry," I said weakly. She glanced at me, suspicious.
"Wait you knew…?"
"That you had a crush on me? Yes," I replied, and she frowned, before a spark of realization flickered in her eyes.
"Damn it, Sam," she muttered under her breath.
"Don't beat him up too badly for it, please?" I requested, quietly letting Sam take all the blame for this. Sure, I was throwing him under the bus, but what else are best friends for, if not for taking the brunt of an angry girl's wrath?
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