marmalade → g. weasley

fourteen

Winslow's eyes were wide, "Lisa Daniels? She stays in the girls dorm next to ours."

Marigold nodded, stabbing a sausage onto her fork with more force than what was probably necessary, "That's the one. Not her fault, though. It's my stupid fault for allowing myself to fall for a guy who I obviously have no shot with."

As much as he wanted to tell her that she was being dramatic, Winslow couldn't help agree that George's statement was pretty damning evidence against him liking Marigold. He patted her shoulder in a weak attempt at consoling her, "Don't think about that now, there's plenty of grindylows in the lake."

Chewing quietly on her breakfast, Marigold nodded but said nothing. Despite trying her utmost not to, her eyes scoured the length of the Gryffindor table for what felt like the fifth time. He still wasn't there. George was usually early to the breakfast table, but Marigold didn't allow herself to wonder where he was.

"Anyways," Winslow continued, trying his best to veer off the topic, "You said you're staying at the castle?"

Pausing mid-chew, Marigold's mind scrambled to grab onto the first feasible lie it could formulate. "My parent's are going to see some friends in Ireland, they asked if I wanted to go with but I have too much work."

She fought off the bitter taste on her tongue, Marigold hated lying.

"Oh, alright." Winslow nodded, unawares. "And you're gonna be fine here with Diego and Elin?"

"Yeah," she chuckled, "I'm actually looking forward to four weeks of no responsibility: no captainship, no Umbridge, no potions pracs. Are you excited to go home?"

Winslow smiled, "Yeah, my gran's visiting from Scotland. She always makes Christmas great."

Lifting to sip from her teacup, Marigold allowed herself to eavesdrop in on Angelina and Bernie's conversation.

"What! And how was the kiss?" Just to the right of her, Angelina was relaying the events of the previous night to Bernie.

Angelina was trying her best not to seem over-eager, "It was good ... a good kiss."

Marigold wished she had retold the story with as much fake disinterest to her the night before as she was to Bernie just then.

After they had left the twins in the corridor, Angelina forced Marigold onto one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room so she could share every, tiny detail of what happened with Fred. Marigold had rarely ever seen Angelina so giggly, she told her about how he held her close in his "strong embrace", how she couldn't possibly stay mad at him after that.

Truthfully, Marigold felt terrible. What kind of best friend was she to be so disinterested in Angelina's story? But as she sat on that couch, hearing every last detail about Angelina's incredibly romantic kiss, all Marigold could think about was how sour her own night had turned.