Bad Timing (J. Potter)

4 : Poker

Poker

"i'm not the kind to fall for a guy who flashes a smile"

*

Miri,

I'm glad to hear that your first month hasn't been a total train wreck. That's always a good thing, yeah? It's okay here, too. We're keeping busy. The seasons are changing. Cleaning's a bit annoying since we had to let the house elf go a few weeks ago, but Ana keeps saying that a little elbow grease never hurt anyone, and when she smiles at me, I completely forget how to argue. My illness has been officially diagnosed, by the way: marriage.

You asked about Aunt Elladora in your last letter. She's hanging in there, Mir. I'm not going to say that she's a specimen of health or anything, but she's a fighter. All the Greengrass women are. Don't tell Father I said this, but I'm pretty sure it's the girls who carry this family. Actually, I'm positive.

I have no real news to share about me. Work's still work. It snowed for the first time yesterday. Morgana sends her love, as always. Stop bothering me about nieces and nephews. Write soon.

-Harrison

"Mir, are you even listening to me at all? Because you've just been nodding along with this really weird smile for, like, seven and a half minutes at least."

Miriam's head snapped up at Dot's voice. She quickly stowed the letter in her pocket. "Sorry. Harry sent a letter this morning. I just didn't get a chance to read it until now."

"Oh my goodness, don't apologize! If I had a brother like yours, I'd always be writing to him," Dot said enthusiastically. She patted Miriam on the head, who swatted her hands away with an amused smile.

"You're so lucky that you get along well with Harry. My sisters flat-out ignore me every time I come home for the holidays." Eden returned to brushing out her already-perfect hair, rolling her eyes at her reflection in the mirror. With a scoff, she added, "Petty lipsticked jerks."

"What were you saying to me before?" Miriam flopped backward onto her bed and started paging through the first book she could reach on her nightstand, The Return of the King. She particularly liked sinking into Tolkien's setting, the far-off land of Middle Earth, because there, the cunning ones weren't scorned. They won the battles.

Ambition and courage should have gone hand in hand, but in her experience, they only did in stories.

She never saw herself as the main character type, either. Never Aragorn or Frodo, duty-bound to save the world. Never Gandalf or Sam, guiding others to victory. Never Merry or Pippin, always able to bring smiles to the faces around them. No, she was Boromir, feeling too much and fading too soon.

She always faded too soon. Everyone always missed her sunrises by a few seconds, and no one ever cared to wait around for the next one.

"I asked if you were coming to the party tonight. Everyone is."

"Everyone?" She yawned. "Even Sev?"

"Even Sev, although Devon may or may not be throwing him in a sack and dragging him there," Dot confirmed with a light laugh.