𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍 ; celano black

002 ; well, isn't it ironic

"don't give it a hand, offer it a soul, honey, make this easy." -----it will come back

WELL, THERE WAS A CERTAIN BEAUTY to be found in how your right to make decisions was wrested from you.

"you cannot be serious." you deadpanned, at which your uncle, nicknamed martian for convenience as his name was far to long, let out a parched scoff.

"when have i not been serious?"

"when you gave me a tarantula for my fourth birthday."

"they make good pets," a dismissive wave of his hand, "but that is besides the point, child."

"i'm an adult."

"sure you are." his dark eyes narrowed with faint distaste at your evident insolence; but no one in their right mind would expect you to have not demanded an explanation for such an insult to your honor.

but yes, as aforementioned, you were engaged. and since you did not have any lovers of note to get hitched with, it was safe to assume that you had no idea who the hell this mystery individual was.

you had refrained from having a screaming fit during your outing with your friends, as you did not want to raise alarm to what could have been a very practical joke (which you had personally found unlikely because your uncle had pulled out the fancy wax seals). but rest assured, there was a reasonably sized breakdown when you got back to your flat.

your family, although not part of the sacred twenty-eight, were standing reasonably in the upper-middle region of the wizarding social hierarchy; a name of repute. so as it was stated in the letter, you were not being married off, but someone was to be married off to you, instead. unorthodox, perhaps, but that meant you did not need to abandon your personalized bachelor pad.

your charming uncle had dubbed the alleyway outside flourish and blotts in diagon alley to be the perfect inconspicuous meeting place; just private enough to not be overheard, and public enough to dissuade you from jumping him with a kitchen knife. not that you were considering that as a possible plan of action, of course. you were somewhat less violent than that.

"why me?" was your next question. a rattling exhale left his ashen mouth as he lowered the cigar from his lips. you were quite tempted to pull that beard right off his face.

i said somewhat less violent.

"well, as you know, your parents are indebted to me." a lazy shrug. "so they agreed to allow me to choose a partner for you that i see fit, ah, monetarily."

it was quite possible that you were going to develop premature wrinkles, from how much you were scowling. it was not as if you had particularly resented your parents up to this point, but merlin's saggy frilled underpants, they had royally fucked you over.

"oh, but you should be grateful. unmarried, unemployed and unloved at twenty-three, well, it is quite doubtful that you'll find anyone, either way." alright, rude. "and i assure you, you will have a very comfortable, lavish life."

"you found me someone rich, have you?"

he shrugged, "why of course, only the best for my brother's spawn."

getting referred to as 'spawn' was perhaps an all-time low, even for you.

"alright, uncle, say i agree to this arrangement." you bit the inside of your cheek; logically, it was not as if you had much choice in the first place. you were barely out of hogwarts, just into your twenties, and most of the money you relied on was sure as hell not from your own fruitful hard work. and maybe the situation could be salvaged with romanticism. "what is in it for me?"

"a husband, some important connections, and two thousand galleons."

if you had been drinking water, you would have spat it out. rich indeed. "what, like a dowry?"

"i suppose so. or a transaction, my contacts were not the most empathetic about the ordeal." your uncle waved a hand vaguely. "so you accept, then."

"i don't exactly have a choice."

"correct." he handed you another slip of paper– what was it with that man and envelopes? "this is an invitation."

you took the parchment gingerly, turning it over in your hands, which were totally not shaking. not at all. "to what?"

"your engagement party." you could see a silver tooth in his leer. "and i do apologize for my lack of clarity, i would prefer that you knew less, lest you know more and protest what has already been arranged for you." he was already straightening his trenchcoat, cigar back between his teeth, putrid smoke escaping the yellowed bricks that were his teeth. "i will send a chauffeur to your apartment at six tomorrow. do not be late."

"and i have no say in this." it was humiliating, really.

"none at all. wear something you young people consider attractive, for god's sake. but do cheer up, we will have wine. the expensive shit."

you doubted god would want you to look sexy on such an occasion, but you managed a terse nod as he disapparated.

occy speaks !!

heyy chat, look who's actually updated something!! you guys might get to catch a glimpse of celano next chapter, hold onto your hats and umbrellas because you may want to hit him with them.