#3 Hiding from the Rumors :: Molly

Sunday 03 September
9:00 am

Sure, it was probably dramatic, but Matilda didn’t care. “Shhh, Morgan. Just hold on until we get down to the Greenhouse.”

The minute Morgan found her in the common room, Tilly hushed her and rushed out of the tower. There was no place safe, not even her dorm. Some of the girls were full on swooning over the story and her “fiancé.” The 6th year girls dorm was now in wedding mode, talking about dresses and colors, and how strong and handsome Drago was. And his accent? It was honestly ridiculous how they were acting.

Tilly was trying to come up with reasons to NOT like Drago, and the girls were not helping.

Finally seeing the castle greenhouses, Tilly sighed with relief. “Lets go to #3, hopefully no one will bother us there.”

The Advanced Herbology greenhouse had some of the more dangerous plants studied at the castle, which meant it wasn’t visited often. Ushering Morgan in, Tilly rested her back against the door and shut her eyes. Freedom. Quiet. Alone. FINALLY.

Headed into the humid space, Tilly looked around, making sure it was truly empty, then spun to look at Morgan. “I swear, there is no place safe anymore. Come on, lets go sit in the back, there’s a section not planted yet, we can sit and relax there.”

The section of workbenches would soon house the Mandrakes, but they were currently still seedlings in the Intermediate Greenhouse, giving them a bit of room to spread out. Hoping up on the workbench, Tilly crossed her legs and pulled her leather satchel off her shoulder. Inside, as was typical for the Gryffindor, held snacks and bottles of butterbeer.

“Ok, so, what all did you hear?”

Ever since the opening feast, Morgan had been wanting to get Tilly alone but had yet to be lucky enough to. The news had spread fast and all that she could hear about was her redheaded friend and the new seventh year and how they were getting hitched the second she graduated.

Among other things.

She had to bite her tongue because the man (giant?) was a Lion too and who knows if he could hear the rumors when he wasn’t in the room.

So she let Tilly lead them down the tower and out of the castle, towards the Greenhouses. Tilly’s favorite place, and a place that Morgan rarely ventured. She and plants didn’t get along. Perhaps because she couldn’t tell what they were thinking.

At least with magical creatures, there were the eyes… and you could usually tell a lot about a creature by their eyes.

Plants could look harmless and kill you with one simple touch.

Finally they made it into the Advanced Herbology greenhouse. It was empty. She followed her older friend to the back and up onto one of the workbenches. She grabbed a butterbeer from her friend’s bag and popped it open.

“Ok, so, what all did you hear?”

Morgan, never one for gossip, found herself getting more excited than usual after taking a long sip of the drink.

“So! There’s a lot, but first that the whole thing was arranged before you were even born and that there’s a blood contract that you literally cannot refuse. Because if you do refuse, there’s a curse and you’ll turn into a goat!” It was ridiculous, really. “And also you fainted when you first saw him because the contract magic activated ‘cause blood magic and all that.”

She was a pro now at that, right? Her step-mum was all into that sort of thing.

“He’s also a prince and he doesn’t have a shadow. Mirrors also don’t work. Kinda like vampires, but… we’ve seen him in the daylight. Also one of the boys swears he sleeps in a coffin. Like a full-on coffin!”

There’d been some other nonsense, which Morgan knew had to be nonsense so she didn’t bother bringing it up. Her eyes widened. “Tills! What the hell!” she exclaimed, unsure how to feel about her friend’s future.

“So! There’s a lot…”

Her eyes kept getting bigger with each new piece of gossip that came out. This had gone so far past insane and in such a short amount of time. It would spread like wildfire only growing in insanity.

“He’s also a prince and he doesn’t have a shadow…”

Tilly groaned loudly, lowering her head and covering her eyes.

“Tills! What the hell!”

Thankful for the large worktable she was currently sitting on, Tilly laid back, keeping her knees bent while looking up at the greenhouse’s clear roof. Where to even begin, this was all so far outside of normal that it was starting to sound like the plot of some fantasy novel.

Not romance novel. Nope. FANTASY.

“Morgan, I don’t even know where to begin. Other than to say every one of the rumors is completely false.”

She growled low, annoyed at even having to have this conversation. “I guess it’s easiest to start at the beginning. I went to Ellen’s birthday party over the summer. It was very fancy and full of pureblood society. Which is where my grandmother, in all her evil villain glory, decided to introduce me to my future husband.”

She went through the story, meeting Drago, getting so mad she was in tears, having to play the part and dance with him. Then the meeting at her house in Sweden, her talk with her grandfather, him not immediately squashing the plans. The betrayal, the hurt. What was left out, probably on purpose, was the warring feelings. How attractive she found him, how nice he was being, how butterflies went berserk in her belly whenever he was near.

Nope. Those thoughts were for her and her alone.

“I have no idea what to do, Morgan. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to go back to Durmstrang. Then I could plan in private for the next year. This is all just so messed up.”

Tilly was so damn deflated, which honestly kind of killed Morgan’s excitement over the whole thing. No, she hadn’t been happy excited, just… animated when speaking about it because this was the wildest thing she’d heard of happening. As a girl who did not grow up in the wizarding world, and certainly was never – until very recently anyways – at all ‘in the know’ about pureblood things, she couldn’t fathom being forced to marry a damn stranger.

Morgan didn’t know if she’d get married herself, but if she did it certainly wouldn’t be to someone she didn’t know. Of course there was Julia’s family, and she knew that each of them would probably be sold off to the highest bidder. Benji was lucky that he got matched with his current girlfriend. Would her other brothers be forced into the same sort of arrangement? Or at least Blippy…

She blinked and forced herself to focus on her friend’s tale, raising her brow at the gall of this grandmother lady who sounded like, yes, a true evil villain. She frowned, sipping her butterbeer as Tilly admitted that she didn’t know what to do.

Well, neither did Morgan.

“It’s beyond fucked up that adults can just decide shit like this,” she admitted, agreeing with the way she was feeling. “But I mean… do you have to? What if you do get to know him and he’s a horrible person who kicks puppies and murders people on the side?”

No, those were not things she’d heard about him before. Thank god. They just kind of popped into her head and while Morgan didn’t think the guy was terrible looking, he was definitely very… stern.

She hadn’t spoken two words to him.

“Even your evil grandmother wouldn’t make you go through with it, would she?” Morgan had no idea exactly how evil this woman was. But she sounded pretty bad. Then she bit her lip momentarily before asking the real question. “How do you feel about him?” She’d noticed that Tilly had left out any opinion on the guy himself.

“It’s beyond fucked up that adults can just decide shit like this. But I mean… do you have to? What if you do get to know him and he’s a horrible person who kicks puppies and murders people on the side? Even your evil grandmother wouldn’t make you go through with it, would she?”

Oh her grandmother would 100% make her go through it. No question. She didn’t call her evil lightly. Thankfully her grandfather wouldn’t. If Drago was truly mean or abusive he would get her out of it. At least, she really hoped he could. She had no idea what agreement she had been brought into.

“My grandmother is more than evil. She wouldn’t care what Drago was like, if connecting our families helped her in some way, she would make it happen. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she forged my name on the marriage documents. She is a vindictive, cruel, despicable human.” Matilda’s voice had taken on an angry tone, it was inevitable, just the mention of her grandmother and she wanted to scream.

“My grandfather is a reasonable human, so if I really give this a chance, get to know him and still hate him and the idea, I think Bram would stop this insanity.”

She wanted to believe this. She really really did, but the fact that Bram was part of this at all gave her pause. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought Bram would go along with Allegra, but it seemed she didn’t know him at all.

“How do you feel about him?”

Well that was the million dollar question wasn’t it? Tilly’s eyes went down to her fingers, playing with the label stuck to the bottle of butterbeer, tearing off small pieces. The small action allowed her to think about the time she had spent with Drago. He had never been mean. Never angry. He had never shown her even the smallest bit of aggression. In fact, through it all, he had been the picture of kind and respectful.

It had been Tilly who had shown the negative emotions. Feeling the smallest bit of remorse, she looked at Morgan and shrugged. “I really don’t know. He’s very quiet, but has been really nice. He seems confused at why I’m upset by this whole situation. It’s just a lot, you know? I’m sixteen. I have no desire to get married right away. It’s just a lot to take in I guess. I told him I’d give him a chance, get to know him, but what worries me is if I end up saying no, what if they don’t listen?”

Suddenly, as she listened to Tilly speak, Morgan felt like the things she’d been going through couldn’t have been as bad as her friend’s life being decided for her. She frowned. She was thankful that she didn’t have to deal with any of that shit – not like Benji and Ruth needed to. Or how her own sister Kate would at some point in her life. Or Blippy.

“What if they don’t listen…” she repeated to herself, quietly. The words sat between them as Morgan processed what it meant for her friend, the warm humid air hugging them as they sat in the greenhouse.

“Tills,” she said, her voice at a normal volume now. She looked at her friend – really looked at her. “That can’t happen. You’re only sixteen. No one can make you marry someone you don’t want to marry.”

Morgan was determined that she would somehow stop the nuptials. She’d been known to carry around a bag of rocks, and while it’d been some time since she’d last gotten into a fight, she would do it for something as serious as this.

Truthfully, Morgan didn’t think there was a way out of the situation. In a world where grandmothers could sell their granddaughters to the highest bidder, she was unsure how things truly worked. The truth was sad. She frowned.

“Your grandfather will stop it,” she said, her voice quieter again. “He has to.”

“That can’t happen. You’re only sixteen. No one can make you marry someone you don’t want to marry.”

Tilly nodded, she wanted to believe her, but nothing in her life seemed to go like it should. Her parents getting rid of her, her grandmother being pure evil, and now this. Being arranged to marry a complete stranger.

“Your grandfather will stop it. He has to.”

Shaking her head, Tilly looked at Morgan. “See, that’s what I thought, but he isn’t stopping this. He actually seems happy with the arrangement. I just don’t get it.”

Standing up, Tilly paced back and forth, snapping off a sprig of lavender as she passed the plant. Her fingers twirled the stem back and forth in her fingers, her mind going a mile a minute. The pro’s and con’s list growing in her head. The con’s side overflowing.

“I don’t know Morgan. I guess we wait and see. Speaking of boys though, who was that you were sitting with at the Ravenclaw table? I saw you over there, ignoring your table’s drama. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before, who is he?”

Morgan frowned as Tilly explained that her grandfather was actually happy with the arrangement. She couldn’t imagine being in that predicament. Still in school and knowing who you were going to marry. Benji was in that situation, but he’d already been with Rae for a long time.

Perhaps it’d be okay if this other boy wasn’t such a stranger. But that was all he was. And Morgan couldn’t imagine being sold to another family.

Like slavery.

“Speaking of boys though, who was that you were sitting with at the Ravenclaw table? I saw you over there, ignoring your table’s drama. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before, who is he?”

Morgan’s stomach did a weird combination of dropping out and somersaulting. Her eyes widened in surprise at the physical reaction to the mention of her new friend and she could feel blush coming to her cheeks.

“Who?” was the first thing she said, her mouth dry. She took a long drink from her bottle of butterbeer.

She knew who.

“Oh, him,” she said vaguely, as if he was no one important. She gestured in the direction of the castle when she spoke. Her hands felt awkward.

Hands. He’d held her hand.

“That’s just – he’s a transfer. From Ilvermorny. We met over the summer, in a bookshop.” She spoke in a way to try to portray that it was no big deal. Nothing remarkable. Nothing to speak more about.

“His name’s Rook. Well, Brooks. But I call him Squid Brain.”

Morgan realized, as she spoke too much, that she had given him a nickname which meant that he was more than just someone she met at the book store. It wasn’t helping her case.

She looked at Tilly over the rim of her butterbeer. “Don’t.”

Tilly would, though, because it was better than speaking about her own situation.

“Who?” Tilly smiled while drinking her butterbeer. The grin hidden behind the bottle. Someone was deflecting…

“Oh, him, That’s just – he’s a transfer. From Ilvermorny. We met over the summer, in a bookshop.”

Hmmmm. Interesting. So they knew each other before school started then she sat with him the first day. So nice of her. So accommodating.

“His name’s Rook. Well, Brooks. But I call him Squid Brain.” Tilly laughed at that. The girl sitting in front of her had a history of giving funny names, but squid brain was hilarious. Her smile was wide now, not hiding it from her friend.

“Don’t.”

And then she was laughing outright. This was much better than talking about her fucked up life.

“Ok, so let me get this straight.” She said with humor in her voice. “You met this kid over the summer. Talked with him at the bookstore, and now he already has a nickname and you're sitting with him at the opening feast?” She said with a question in her tone.

Nope. Not adding up.

“Morgan. My friend. Mother to my favorite frog. Please enlighten me as to the nature of your relationship to Mr Squid Brain.”

Yep, this was a lot more fun than discussing Drago and the arrangement. Was she deflecting? Yes. Was she ignoring the messed up situation she was currently in? YEP. Was focusing on her friend and this new boy that possibly caught her eye, yes. Yes she was.

Morgan’s face burned red as Tilly gloated. Her stomach kept doing these weird flips that she’d never felt before. Talking about it was… odd.

“Morgan. My friend. Mother to my favorite frog. Please enlighten me as to the nature of your relationship to Mr Squid Brain.”

She stared at Tilly’s wide smile for a long moment. It was better than the sadness she’d seen on her face moments before, so she’d let this continue. But only because she was a good friend.

“It’s not –” she tried. “He’s just – we talked. In a bookshop. And then we ran into each other again in Diagon Alley and he bought me ice cream –”

She hesitated briefly, hearing herself. Her face contorted slightly. “That sounds like more than it is,” she said firmly, though not as firmly as she hoped.

“He’s easy to talk to,” she added quietly. As if admitting it was the only way to stop from making it worse. “That’s all.”

She glanced at David, turning the bottle of butterbeer in her hands.

“He lost his dad last year. I told him about mum.” A second later she added to that. “Not everything, just that… she’s nowhere.”

That information was something she held closely to her chest. It still hurt as if it was yesterday, so she tried her damndest to not talk about it. Or think about it.

“And he calls me Mysty… Mystery Girl. We didn’t know each other’s names ‘til yesterday, so –” she stopped, bit her lip to try to shut herself up.

“It’s nothing,” she added, which was the least convincing of anything she’d said the entire conversation. She knew it too, from the way she kept her eyes down.

“He’s just easy to talk to,” she repeated as if it would help, but saying it twice just made it… smaller.