"you will stay young and I will grow old, forever."
↠ In which Marigold Knight has to face her 7th year at Hogwarts while trying to cope with the death of her best friend, keep up with her classes, manage joining a resistance a...
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The hot chocolate helped, a little bit at least, but that was already more than Marigold expected it would.
She asked Sprout if they could rather not talk about Cedric, and the professor nodded, "Of course, apple. Tell me, how's Quidditch going?"
Marigold spent most of the rest of the afternoon in Greenhouse One. She told Sprout about how she'd planned the practices for term, about classwork and Umbridge - to which Marigold was pleased to find that Sprout rolled her eyes at: "that bat."
She left only after the sun had disappeared behind the North Tower of the Castle. Marigold thanked the professor and headed straight to bed without dinner, offering a measly excuse to Elin or anyone else that asked her where she'd been all day. "Just had to talk to Sprout about some work."
The first day of term came cold and raining. Defense Against the Dark Arts was first, they still hadn't moved past studying the history of expelliarmus. In Tranfiguration, McGonagall had already started on the new syllabus and administered two essays due before the end of the following week.
By the time Marigold was facing her final subject, potions, there was nothing she wanted more than a long nap. The dungeon was cold, as it always was, when Marigold set her bag down beside George. He smiled down at her, "Alright there, Knight?"
Holding down a blush, Marigold nodded. If she had one more lesson to suffocate through, she was glad at least to have George and his adorably floppy hair beside her. "Always, Weasley."
George's stomach bubbled, Marigold looked so good with that blue jumper peeking out from under her robes and the slightly loose Hufflepuff tie that hung from her neck.
"Say," He continued to speak while Snape gathered some papers by his desk at the front of the class, "Where'd you disappear to yesterday?"
Marigold didn't even look up from pulling out her textbook, answering casually, "Snuck away for a snog with my new boyfriend."
A cold pit caved in George's stomach, boyfriend?
His eyebrows furrowed, "new boyfriend"? Had Marigold really found a boyfriend in the two months he'd been gone? An even more painful thought crossed his mind, was it Zach?
His reaction hadn't gone unnoticed by Marigold, who was desperately fighting down a bout of laughter. "Something wrong?"
George shook his head, "No, not at all." Liar, he thought. "Who is it?"
By then Marigold couldn't prolong the lie, her mouth splitting into mild giggles: "I'm just pulling your leg, George. I went to see Sprout about some work."
"Oh." George tried not to sigh too visibly.
"Nobody would date me," She said airily, "One of the cons of being this funny, I just outshine everyone."
