❝𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲?❞
❝𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦.❞
𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 had a few, perhaps a little or more than a palm of qualms in his life. First up was the whole "The Boy-Who-Lived" shenanigans, then there was an ungodly am...
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XLI. THE END RESULT BETWEEN US
━━━━━━
"There's something tragic about you
Something so magic about you"
STANDING AT THE THRESHOLD OF THE kitchen, Marjorie felt a great rush of emotions — relief, excitement, and a twinge of fear. It was abnormal, in a way. Everyday since they parted she had been thinking about him — about everything that consists of him, and now here he was, in the flesh.
And for once since a long time, she found herself speechless at the very sight of him. Merely, she could only stare with her lips slight parted as he gazed at her with those ethereal emerald eyes of his that had never fail to remind her of Spring; his lips curled into a significant grin that made her heart race significantly that it was almost disgusting.
Truly, no matter how long it had been, no matter if she had broken his heart or not, no matter if they were just now friends, her heart seemed to only react to him. And that was a trifling matter.
"Oh, Marjorie dear!" Mrs. Weasley broke her out of her reverie — actually she had almost forgotten that she was present there. The matriarch turned in her chair, her expression softening. "I didn't realise you were still awake! Do you want me to brew you tea —"
"Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley!" said Marjorie alarmingly. "You needn't to trouble yourself —"
However, Mrs. Weasley was already bustling around the kitchen, her motherly instincts kicking in. "Nonsense, dear. It's no trouble at all. You look like you could use a warm drink."
Marjorie felt that it was unneeded, that it was merely troubling, yet Mrs. Weasley was not hearing her out one bit and merely urged her to sit down. Of course she did, as she made to move closer to the table, but that meant that she would have to acknowledge the clear elephant in the room, which was the unexpected arrival of Harry.
Actually, now that she thought of it, when —
"When did you even get here?" she asked at once, curiosity piquing. Marjorie tilted her head in confusion.
"Oh — uh — just a few minutes ago — wait, the question should be: What are you doing here?" said Harry, blinking continuously at the sight of the redheaded girl. The days up until now, Ron made him believe that Marjorie would never come by to visit for the summer, and yet, here the beautiful redhead was.
She was dressed in a simple nightgown, the soft fabric brushing against her skin as she moved. The moonlight streaming through the window cast a gentle glow upon her, making her hair shimmer like a fiery halo. Her classic curly red locks, once always neatly tied back, now cascaded freely around her shoulders, framing her delicate face. To Harry, she had always been beautiful, but tonight there was something ethereal about her, something that transcended the mundane.
