Rivals | D.M

7. Compromising Positions

Aster's POV

The cool air nips at my cheeks, the weather finally coinciding with the season. I've wrapped myself up in my teal woolen trench coat, my thick Slytherin scarf wrapped messily around my neck. I pace outside the The Three Broomsticks, listening to the warm laughter and chatter behind the doors.

"Go, I gotta go meet Fred" Harper urges, giving me a sympathetic smile. She stands in the middle of the street, her black beanie pushing her fringe down and making her face look small.

"I don't know what they look like," I admit, tapping my gloved hands against my thigh.

"You know what Marcus looks like" she replies, now pushing me towards the door.

I shove her off gently, but turn towards the Pub. "Ok, I'll see you later?".

"Of course" she says, her tone sweet and soft.

I nod before I reluctantly open the heavy wooden door.

My mouth feels dry, my swallow meets a lump in my throat and I struggle to breath for a second. The Three Broomsticks is heaving, students, professors and residents fill every chair in the building. The sweet smell of butterbeer drifts throughout the warm tavern and it settles the gurgling in my stomach. Scanning the large room for my Aunt and Uncle, I rest my eyes finally on a tall middle-aged man, the spitting image of my father. My stomach drops as I take in his green eyes and crinkled crow feet.

I stroll nervously up to their table.

"Hi I'm Aster" my voice is consumed by the laughter from the table next to theirs.

My Uncle looks up and his eyes widen as he recognises me. His wife sits opposite him, her tight black curls stiff with hairspray, the same eyes as Marcus.

"Aster.." he says in a way of greeting.

I purse my lips in reply, slightly nodding.

"Sit" he says, pulling out a chair next to him.

As soon as I sit down, my Aunt pours me a glass of water from a nearby pitcher.

"This is your Aunt Penelope and you can call me Uncle Nicolas" he says, a tight nervousness evident in his own voice. I don't reply, instead I take a small sip of my water.

"We thought it was about time we finally met you. We have heard so much about you from Marcus" he starts. I choke down a scoff. 

"We also wanted to see if you would like to meet the rest of the family" my Aunt's voice small and timid. I look up at her, her eyes are wide and shadowed with concern.

I stutter as I try to find a reply, "why?" I finally spit out.

My Aunt looks over at my Uncle, as if looking for permission to talk. He looks so much like my dad that it unsettles me. My head swirls with confusion, as to what to really think about the strangers sitting with me and what this is all about.

"Tough times are coming, and we want to ensure you are safe..." her quiet voice trails off, her long nails curl tightly around her goblet.

I feel the tension rise in the air and I shiver in response.

"What do you mean to ensure I'm safe?" I say, my voice rising as my impatience takes a turn for the worst.

"We want to keep you safe, you are a Flint after all" My uncle says smugly.

"And why won't I be safe with mum and dad?" I counter, my temper rising.

My Aunt flinches at my tone and curls into her chair. I watch as my Uncle sorts through his thoughts, searching for a politically correct way to respond.