"she would of made such a lovely bride what a shame she's fucked in the head!" - they said
the black brothers x fem oc
marauders era
── @-gutspilled
cover by @superpink24
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A few weeks had passed, and it was well and truly the middle of winter. Imogen tried her best to avoid going outdoors—she was not interested in getting frostbite, and she certainly wasn't interested in going anywhere near the ice-cold snow. As expected, the Christmas spirit ❨ and decorations ❩ had gone by the end of the first week, leaving the castle with a cold feeling ❨ and post-holiday depression. ❩ Imogen found herself falling back into the usual routine she had set herself well before the holidays, classes had picked up with a heavy workload, so she spent a lot of time in the library with her friends. ❨ instead of going with Sirius to watch him and the marauders play Quidditch. ❩
The girl sat in the red and gold-themed Gryffindor common room, she sat near the cackling fire, which spread warmth around the room. Imogen sat in an armchair, the cosiest one in the room. In her lap was her potions book—they had finished their love potion weeks ago and were onto learning about liquid luck, they wouldn't be making it ❨ as it was a complicated potion ❩, unfortunately Slughorn wanted the class to do research on it. As the flames flickered, Imogen could feel her eyelids becoming heavy, she was bored of the potions research, but they had a pop quiz on it the next day.
The girl blinked her eyes open again, Imogen couldn't help but let her mind wonder to other things, and her important thoughts drifted away. She thought of Regulus and how he might have to have an arranged marriage with someone he had no real connection to. Imogen's parents had always threatened her with an arrangement if she wasn't to find someone by the end of 7th year ❨ or that's what she remembered ❩, it would stress her out.
Imogen hadn't heard her parents since she returned to Hogwarts after Christmas break, even back then at the train station, they barely said goodbye to her. Not that she expected a flood of letters from her family, she was still upset as they usually sent them to her once a week—not nice ones, just ones about updates at home, reminders that she should become friends with pure bloods ❨ but not blood traitors. ❩
