❝ MERLIN'S GHOST! ❞
❝ I MEAN, YOU'RE NOT WRONG. ❞
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Albany Bronwen was no Chosen One by any means, but being haunted by the ghosts of the greatest sorcerer of all time and a former king had to count for something, right?
❃ in which a lone...
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ALBANY SPENT THE REST OF THE day strategically avoiding Fred, George and Lee. It wasn't too difficult a task, as in their celebratory mood, they were quite loud; but walking the quiet corridors farthest from the Great Hall, she couldn't beat off the paranoia that they would find her. She couldn't bring herself to face them.
The conflict in her own mind that she'd been struggling with ever before putting her name in had as good as doubled afterwards. "It's not like I'll get chosen anyway," she had remarked to Merlin and Arthur, because the goblet picked who it thought was most worthy of each school, regardless of how many times you entered. It was a hollow comfort, because her anxious thoughts were swarming around the off chance that she did get chosen, which meant certain death. She couldn't even perform a simple summoning charm to retrieve the textbook when she'd been helping the twins brew their potion - she didn't stand a chance in a tournament designed to test your bravery and magical skills. She was literally going to die.
Only if I get chosen, she reminded herself fiercely. And I won't.
That aside, she still felt weighted under the guilt of tricking Fred, George and Lee; she had, essentially, lied to them, and even though they would never find out, the fact made her uncomfortable. She wasn't exactly someone with a strict moral code, but being dishonest to her friends wasn't something she wanted to make a habit out of.
"It's in the past now, can't change it," Merlin pointed out as she collapsed into a windowsill, exhaustion tripled from earlier.
"Doesn't mean I can just stop worrying about it," Albany argued weakly, and buried her face into her hands to let out a long groan. "I haven't even faced the consequences yet."
"You might not," Arthur said with a shrug.
"I should have just walked away," she lamented. "Merlin's saggy left-"
The wizard raised an eyebrow at her, and she silenced herself. "I never got why people chose my name to throw around the place," he remarked drily.
"It's because you're a clotpole," Arthur informed him.
"That's my word."
Albany sighed miserably, ignoring the ghosts' bickering. "I'm so stupid."
The ghosts vanished with a soft pop as footsteps echoed in the corridor; they'd been a little on edge about hanging around Albany while other people were present after the Moody incident. Albany glanced up a little reluctantly, unsure if the approaching person was someone she wanted to make eye contact with or not, but relaxed a little as she recognised Carly Dubois and her bouncing curls.
"Hi," she greeted the French girl quietly.
"I don't think you are stupid," Carly replied casually, hands behind her back. A sheepish smile crossed her soft features. "Sorry. You were talking really loud."
