The Flower Shop
summary: Marietta Edgecombe doesn't take it well when the woman who ruined her life walks into her flower shop. :: dedicated to Floatfoot
warning(s): ...Grown women fighting? Other than that, none. Surprisingly.
rating: K+
word count: 992
dedication: Floatfoot, for often being the first reviewer to my fics and a cool person in general. ;)
The windows of Marietta's little flower shop in Diagon Alley are squeaky-clean and glistening in the mid-afternoon sun. Marietta stares out of them and sighs. How she misses being one of those many shoppers outside her window, drifting around from shop to shop, flirting and talking and interacting with whoever they wanted.
Marietta can't do that now. Her shame when someone gawks at her when she forgets to hide her face is overwhelming; "SNEAK!" a child once screamed before collapsing with laughter, as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
(Marietta slapped the child and walked away. Cho never spoke to her again.)
Now, she sits at her desk and draws pictures. Marietta loves drawing. Her pictures smile at her and don't give a damn about whether her face has those horrible words branded on it. They laugh, but not at her. With her. It makes all the difference in the world. And if Marietta is particularly proud of a drawing, sometimes she smiles back, and they live in their own little world for a few precious moments.
Marietta likes to think she is a good artist, but once she showed a picture of hers to a shop owner and he chased her away before she even saw it.
Marietta never showed anyone any of her drawings again.
She hates this life, one as a florist, of all things, but she hasn't got a choice. She has nowhere to go. She drifts around aimlessly, all because of that word.
The little brass bell hanging on the door tinkles, and a customer walks in. A family. One girl with copper hair, a red-haired man and a woman with wild, bushy hair.
Marietta goes cold. Granger. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley have just walked in to her flower shop. She can feel her heart pounding in her throat, seized by a sudden desire to throttle the woman. The woman who put a little curse on a piece of paper and condemned Marietta for life.
"Hello?" Granger inquires of her, walking straight up to her desk. "Where are the geraniums?"
"And tulips. Don't forget the tulips," the red-haired man says. Ronald Weasley. Marietta remembers him: Harry Potter's best friend.
They don't seem to recognize her. Granger isn't even looking at her full-on.
"No." She says the word quietly, but with a force that she's sure she's never used before. "No."
The shop is quiet for a moment.
"... Marietta? Marietta Edgecombe?" Her eyes widen with recognition.
"Yes. No, I'm not helping you," she replies simply, her fury threatening to tip right over the edge. "You remember me, don't you?"
"Marietta, I -"
"No. I'm not helping." She doesn't know where this childish stubbornness is coming from, but it's making Granger mad and she likes that.
"Marietta!" she cries, throwing her hands up. "That was years ago!"
"So what? This word did not disappear with the years, Granger, it's ruined my life!" She's standing up, now, yelling her. People outside stop and stare even more than they already do, and Marietta wants to slap every single goddamn one of them.
"I didn't mean -"
"I don't care what you meant," Marietta says angrily. "I don't care."
"It was so people wouldn't betray us to -"
"You ruined. My. Life." Tears are beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. She sees the little girl, Granger's daughter, standing behind Ronald Weasley with a fearful look on her face. Granger has a daughter. Granger loves someone who loves her back. She has a family. Granger is a world-famous heroine. Granger is adored by everyone. She has a happy ending.
Everything Marietta wanted, and everything she doesn't have. People praised her for her beautiful face and voice and her beautiful artwork but all of that doesn't even matter now, because of this woman with everything.
"Well, I really won't -"
"I don't care what you won't do now. You could've thought about what your spell could have done to me when you put it on that parchment. You could've though, no, I won't do that. But you did." Her voice is stronger now, and she stands up straighter, blinking back her tears and letting the world see her scarred face.
"Marietta, please! Listen! I didn't even think anyone would have the nerve to betray us, but someone did! I trusted you. You signed the parchment yourself. You bound yourself to it."
Marietta opens her mouth and spits at her.
"You don't know my parents, Granger. You don't know how ... I couldn't have kept my mouth shut, no matter what. And I'm so sorry that I betrayed your trust, but -"
"Your argument is completely illogical," Granger says haughtily. "I'm terribly sorry that your parents are who they are, but you signed that parchment. You could've walked away early on."
"I would've told anyway."
"Then stop blaming me! You could've walked away without signing it and told on us, and you wouldn't have that word on your face! It's your fault."
The words slam on Marietta like a thousand bricks. "I -"
"Ugh, this is hopeless," Granger says to Weasley, shooting Marietta a look of venom. "Let's go, Ron."
"Okay," Weasley squeaks. He catches Marietta's eye and looks at her apologetically, but Marietta is done.
"Don't come in ever again."
"I'll be glad to," Granger says, leading her daughter by the hand and walking out. For the first time, Marietta notices that there are photographers outside with cameras in hand, a bloodthirsty look in their eyes, hungry for the scandal. Granger, she remembers, is famous.
They look absolutely delighted when Marietta curls up at her desk and sobs bitterly, and they snap away.
a/n: There's so much more I want to add to this, but word count limits ... T_T
Please don't favourite without reviewing, ;)