"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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George's height offered him the advantage that where he walked, people would simply move out of his way. Within seconds, he was across the room and standing behind Marigold.
Zach, who had been laughing at whatever she'd just said, looked up at George and his face fell. Marigold noticed his gaze and swivelled dangerously on her heel to see what he was looking at.
"Georgie!" George could tell from the way she said just that one word that she had to be drunk. She was smiling up at him, but George's gaze hadn't left Zach - who was staring back with equal animosity.
Even in her hazy state, Marigold could recognise the tension. "George, you remember Zach don't you?"
George nodded, "You're the prick from Hogs Head aren't you?"
At the comment, the air between them grew even thicker. "Don't like being called a prick, mate." Zach retorted, stepping closer to George and Marigold immediately grew nervous.
George's chest swelled, "You were being one though, don't you think?" Marigold was stunned, she had never seen him this cold before.
Without thinking, she took George's hand into hers. "George, please stop." She said it quietly and if he wasn't focusing he wouldn't have heard her say it. He looked down at her for the first time that night, she looked beautiful. Even more so than usual.
"Come on, Goldie," Zach's patience was shortening, but he ignored George's retort. "Let's go get a drink, leave this prat."
"Uhh..." Normally, Marigold would pretend to weigh her options, but by then she was far too drunk for that. She wanted to talk with George. "I'll catch up with you, Zach."
Zach paused, affronted.
He then scowled deeply, "Right, do what you want then. Spend your night with this tosser." Before stepping into the crowd before Marigold could even get a word out.
She watched his back disappear into the distance, mouth open and chest stinging in offence. George noticed her upset expression, he laced the fingers that were already in his hand with hers, "Forget him, he's an asshole."
Marigold watched the spot where Zach had disappeared into the crowd for just a moment longer before turning back to George. "You're right ..." She slurred, "Asshole." It took Marigold a moment to realise that they were holding hands, she smiled. "You're holding my hand." She whispered, eyes locked on his.
George nodded, "And you're holding mine. So I guess we're even."
She squeezed his hand between her fingers, "I'm having so much fun."
