Athena had spent the morning in Hogsmeade with her step-mother, pouring over pictures of suitors and deftly sliding away the ever reoccurring picture of Kendall Rookwood. Every time, Athena made a face and pointed out his flaws – making sure to add a few more every time. Apolline was getting impatient; as was her father so it seemed. Both wanted their daughter to be married by the end of her seventh year and engaged in her sixth so they would have a whole year to get to know each other. So far, Athena had managed to deflect every possible suitor. They were either: too short, too tall, too ugly or she’d already slept with them. Apolline was quick to hush her every time she mentioned the last of those. Pureblood girls were meant to be virgins. All Athena could really say was “oops” and Apolline would nod, murmuring something along the lines of, “If your father was ever to find out,” before trailing off and turning the page of the book she’d compiled.
Thankfully, those Athena had slept with were put off of the list. She had to lie about a fair few – in fact, a great portion – leaving them with only a handful of young ‘gentlemen’ and a wave of foreigners to choose from. It was a difficult process. Apolline didn’t like the French, Athena’s father loathed the Spanish and the Portuguese and Athena just wouldn’t go near anyone from the continent having already deemed them unclean and just all around disgusting. Apolline didn’t seem to know what was more worrisome – the increasing likelihood that her daughter was going to be a cat-lady or...no, no, the cat-lady prospect was far worse than anything else.
But after torture, Athena spent an hour or two shopping. After spending some of her father’s money she felt better and so she began to wander back up towards the school, sporting the new shoes that the Half-Blood in Gladrags had made for her the other week. They were a gorgeous plum colour with tall, thin heels. She adored them already and was immensely thankful to Macmillan; even if he was a Halfie.
As Athena made her way down the path towards the Entrance Hall, basking in the glorious sunshine, she spotted a young girl – a Hufflepuff – hunched in the shade which was by far a smarter place to go if one wanted relief from the heat. Athena did not but her day just got so much better. The Hufflepuff was down. How sad. Waltzing over to the girl, Athena took her wand from her pocket. She flicked it at the ivy casting a shadow over the girl and murmured ‘Incendio’. Flames erupted and the ivy shrivelled back almost immediately, quenching the flames before they had chance to grow. Athena did, however, achieve her goal and managed to bathe the girl in sunlight.
“Oh dear,” Athena drawled, “Sorry about that. My wand must have...slipped.”
by Guest Mon Apr 18, 2011 10:38 pm
