Emerson Wilmore was an exemplary Ravenclaw student, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and an unyielding moral compass. However, things took a twisted and deviated turn in her life after her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, was murdered by L...
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The first time Emerson found the bouquet of peonies at the foot of her bed, she froze, the familiar blush-pink petals sitting atop an elegant arrangement of greenery. It was after Advanced Potions when she sat next to Mattheo. The faint, sweet scent filled the girls dormitory, and for a moment, she thought it was a mistake. She didn't receive flowers; only from two people in her life. One of whom was dead, and the other was dead to her. So, she assumed that maybe someone misdelivered a gift meant for someone else.
But then she saw the note. She didn't need to read it to know who had sent them.
Her stomach twisted with annoyance as she grabbed the bouquet, holding it as if it might explode. The sweet, heady scent of the flowers filled the room, and her lips curled into a scowl. Her fingers hovered over the note before she ripped it open, the parchment scrawled with handwriting she'd come to know far too well:
"Forgiveness isn't something I deserve, but it's all I'll ever ask for. —M"
Her fingers tightened around the note, crumpling the delicate parchment. Her heart burned with frustration, anger mingling with the tiniest flicker of something else that she immediately shoved down.
By the fifth day, the routine was predictable. She would wake up, glance toward the foot of her bed, and there it was: another bouquet of peonies and another note. And every day, she destroyed them. One day, she tossed them out the window and another day, she incinerated them with a flick of her wand.
"Again?" Olivia's voice startled her, and Emerson whipped her head around to see her best friend leaning against the doorway, a bemused expression on her face.
"Don't," Emerson snapped, tossing the bouquet into the rubbish bin with a dramatic flourish. "Don't even start, Liv."
"You're going to set the dormitory on fire," Olivia commented as she watched Emerson glare at the bouqet before she incinerated it. "At least wait until we've left for breakfast."
Emerson crushed the note into a ball in her fist before tossing it in the flames. "If he thinks this is some romantic gesture, he's delusional."
"To be fair," Olivia said, sitting on the edge of her bed. "He's very delusional." Her eyes flicked to the ashes of the peonies with a smirk. "Peonies again. He's consistent, I'll give him that."
"Consistently infuriating," Emerson muttered, crossing her arms as she paced back and forth. "What does he think? That flowers are going to magically erase everything he's done? That a note and some petals will make me forget the lies, the manipulation, the—,"
"Obsession?" Olivia offered with a raised eyebrow.
Emerson stopped mid-step, her cheeks flushing. "It's not obsession," She said defensively.
"Really?" Olivia tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "The man stares at you like he's trying to memorise your soul, slips you notes in every single class, and now—what is this? The third bouquet this week?"
