"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 sun had just started to rise over the mountainous landscape around Hogwarts when Marigold was pulled torturously into consciousness.
Birds chirped outside the common room window and Marigold swore she had never heard a worse sound in all her life. Her eyes were plastered shut with sleep, she could feel the hot couch beneath her and the sweat chasing down her brow.
Marigold's stomach churned and her head felt like it had been bludgeoned with a cauldron. She figured that being hit with a cruciatus curse was a similar experience to the one she was enduring in that very moment.
Hazy images clouded together in her mind to form the memory of how she had ended up on the couch. Cedric's watch. Sir Nicholas. George.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Marigold's stomach twisted dangerously again and she knew right then that she was going to throw up.
Forcing her eyes open and weakly tossing the blanket off of her Marigold leapt up off the couch - she yelped when she noticed George's then stirring figure. He stayed here all night?
It was too late to dwell on the thought and Marigold's legs were pushing her weakly across the common room, bursting through her bathroom door. She threw herself into one of the stalls, falling to her knees over the toilet and retching into the bowl.
The contents of her stomach rose up and filled the bowl disgustingly, Marigold's stomach compressed to push every last drop of food and poisonous liquor she had out into the toilet.
It didn't stop for nearly ten minutes before she could slouch back against the wall of the bathroom, eyes shutting with queasiness and her head spinning painfully.
Marigold's mind swirled with the emerging memories of the night before: at first they were good, she remembers the party. Dancing with Angelina and the twins, taking shots ... she remembers Elin giving her the letter. Her heart sank dangerously into her stomach, she remembered pacing by the Great Hall looking for Sir Nicholas. Being found by George -- her head fell into her hands in shame.
Her words rung through her head like a broken record-player: I didn't go home over Christmas ... because then I would have to see his house.
She'd never admitted that to a single other person until then. George must think she's crazy. The thought forced more vomit out of Marigold's throat into the toilet and she stared down into it's depths. How could she ever face him again?
It turned out that she'd have to find an answer to that question fairly quickly because there was a light knocking on the bathroom door, "Marigold?"
Marigold sat up abruptly. It was George. "I, uh--" She called back, "I'll be there in a minute ..."
Against the world-quaking nausea, she clambered to her feet and rushed over to her and Elin's shared sink where her toothbrush and toothpaste were waiting.
