Part 4
"His person is more charming than his personality," Gabriella said, lounging on her bed, twirling one long strand of hair that had come loose from her bun around a long, bony finger, "But that can be amended, do you not agree?"
Poppy just smiled at Gabriella's reflection in the mirror of their vanity, applying a bit of powder to her nose.
"You must admit that you think he is at least good-looking," Gabriella sat up.
"I think," Poppy said slowly, "That Albus Dumbledore is brilliant, witty, clever, and honest. And I am very pleased that you have found yourself such an...Affable young man. Have you received a letter from him yet?"
"No," Gabriella looked dissatisfied, then brightened, adding, "But it can be expected any day, can it not? You have seen the looks he has been bestowing so often on me at meals, and how he broods and becomes sulky when another girl catches his eye. I rather like him when he sulks like that. The way he frowns so thoughtfully," Gabriella smiled to herself, and went to the window, gazing out over the grounds.
Poppy, again, did not reply. Gabriella got into this attitude a lot, dreaming and wondering about when she would receive that letter from that special young man, whoever he was at the time. Poppy never revealed her feelings to anyone, not even Gabriella. Gabriella was too self-centered to care, so Poppy remained silent. It was better that way, for if Gabriella knew, she would throw a fit for days...
"Dearest, why do you apply so much powder?" Gabriella asked, leaning over Poppy's shoulder.
"You know perfectly well," Poppy replied, though she immediately dropped the sponge back into the dish.
"To hide your freckles, of course," Gabriella turned Poppy's face towards her, "Though
you have only seven or eight, I would say. And I quite despise you for that. You are, without a doubt, the loveliest girl in Hogwarts - "
"Except for Paulettina Farrows," Poppy interrupted as her cheeks flushed.
"Well, at least in Hufflepuff house then," Gabriella wrinkled her nose, "You have your dark curls, and your pale skin, and you are tall and stunning and modest. You are everything any wizard could want out of a wife."
"Thank you, Gabriella," Poppy looked at her slender, white hands.
"And that is why I hate you," Gabriella turned away, and went back to lounging on the bed, "Because you are stunning and I am plain. Plain as a brown goose. I have dull brown hair and dull brown eyes and I am quite browned from spending too much time out boating this summer, where as you are still as fair as ever."
"If you took your parasol - "
"It makes no difference. I hate holding the thing, and as the boat is only big enough for myself and a young man, I can not bring along one of the child servants to hold it for me, unless they were to row in a boat next to me and that is quite an atrocious idea, is it not?"
Poppy nodded, and caught up some unruly curls with a silver comb.
"But you do not think he is good-looking?!" Gabriella suddenly returned to their other conversation, "With those eyes, that hair! The way in which he carries himself, it is simply...Handsome!"
Poppy stood and smoothed her gray dress, "I do not wish to insult your taste in any way, for I have already made clear my great admiration for Mister Dumbledore, so take no offense, I beg you, dear, Gabriella. However, I do not find him very good-looking, for all his sulking and brooding that you find so charming. He is too tall, too gangly, and I especially do not like the way that his ears stick, or how extremely long his nose is."
Without another word, Poppy left the room, leaving Gabriella quite astonished.
The letter did not come, as the person who was supposedly sending it had no intention of doing so at any point during their life, and Gabriella was deeply distraught. She quickly turned to Poppy, who offered as much consolation as she felt proper, considering her rather rash outburst on the potential sender's physical flaws. Gabriella was stubborn, and still insisted on discussing with the other girls how handsome Albus was, but she began to see Poppy's view of things. Soon, Herbology and Muggle Studies with the Gryffindors became loathed lessons. If she was at the same table as Albus, Gabriella would not look at his face, for she would either stare at his nose or his ears or his freckles, which she was beginning to notice, were not only many, but obtrusive. They hid what would have been smooth, rosy tan skin, and to Gabriella, this was unacceptable, as though someone had smeared grease over Monet's greatest works.
So, if she was working at the same table as Albus, she would direct her copious conversation at Nicholas. Nicholas, who was not inclined to converse with anyone but Albus, Paulettina, or the professors, proved an ill-chosen candidate for small talk as well. The only other people nearby on these occasions were Paulettina, who Gabriella did not care to talk to after their encounter of the carriage ride, and Poppy, who was silent. If she was spoken to at all, Poppy would flush very deeply and attempt to bury herself in some plant, and then have to extract herself in the most tedious way, as her curls always got caught and tangled, no matter how smooth they had been that morning when she put them up.
This was all very frustrating to Gabriella, who was aiming to please her parents, first and foremost. She was their only daughter and they wanted to see her married to someone respectable and, more importantly, rich. Second, she was aiming to please herself, and set out in her seventh year to find herself a rich and handsome match. It was turning out more difficult than she had planned on. Certainly, she, who was beautiful (she thought), rich, and from a well-respected pureblood family, would have no trouble finding a handsome young bachelor with modest prospects and a large fortune in Gringott's? Honestly, almost everyone at Hogwarts was rich and handsome, so to come and find herself at a loss, well, you can imagine how much it would hurt her. It would hurt any young woman.
"He is so terribly frustrating!" Gabriella exclaimed, "I have no idea what sort of mind game he is playing with me. He does not speak to me, does not look me in the eye, he hardly bows to me when we pass in the hallway, he avoids me at all other costs, and after dinner last night he would even come to fill out my book!"
Gabriella pouted and sat heavily down on her bed. Poppy, who was pulling on her night
cap, could not help but think that Albus Dumbledore's avoidance of her friend was for a very obvious reason, but Gabriella would not listen to anything she did not wish to hear, so it was pointless for Poppy to try and explain.
"It is a great puzzle," Poppy said instead as she sat down on her bed, "But I think that, if you give it time, he will be able to sort out his intentions."
Gabriella was easily pleased, Poppy knew, and she showed it.
"Of course!" Gabriella exclaimed, "You are brilliant, dearest! He must be terribly confused right now. No doubt that his parents have someone in mind, but he has not found them to be correct for him, probably too dull or ignorant to be the wife of a great mind such as he. He simply has not told his parents yet, for fear of disappointing them, but when he does and they realize what a mistake they made, then he can tell them of his long-hidden affections for myself!"
With that, Gabriella hugged Poppy, blew out the candle, and went to sleep. Poppy did not go to sleep, but sat by the window and looked out over the grounds, dark and lifeless in the night, the dew on the grass reflecting the starlight. She felt nothing but contempt towards Gabriella. Albus Dumbledore was a good, honest young man. Surely he would not be tempted by Gabriella, for all her money (Gabriella was to inherit a good deal from her parents when she was married), and all her open advances on him. Poppy sighed, and, seeing the late hour, went to bed.
"His person is more charming than his personality," Gabriella said, lounging on her bed, twirling one long strand of hair that had come loose from her bun around a long, bony finger, "But that can be amended, do you not agree?"
Poppy just smiled at Gabriella's reflection in the mirror of their vanity, applying a bit of powder to her nose.
"You must admit that you think he is at least good-looking," Gabriella sat up.
"I think," Poppy said slowly, "That Albus Dumbledore is brilliant, witty, clever, and honest. And I am very pleased that you have found yourself such an...Affable young man. Have you received a letter from him yet?"
"No," Gabriella looked dissatisfied, then brightened, adding, "But it can be expected any day, can it not? You have seen the looks he has been bestowing so often on me at meals, and how he broods and becomes sulky when another girl catches his eye. I rather like him when he sulks like that. The way he frowns so thoughtfully," Gabriella smiled to herself, and went to the window, gazing out over the grounds.
Poppy, again, did not reply. Gabriella got into this attitude a lot, dreaming and wondering about when she would receive that letter from that special young man, whoever he was at the time. Poppy never revealed her feelings to anyone, not even Gabriella. Gabriella was too self-centered to care, so Poppy remained silent. It was better that way, for if Gabriella knew, she would throw a fit for days...
"Dearest, why do you apply so much powder?" Gabriella asked, leaning over Poppy's shoulder.
"You know perfectly well," Poppy replied, though she immediately dropped the sponge back into the dish.
"To hide your freckles, of course," Gabriella turned Poppy's face towards her, "Though
you have only seven or eight, I would say. And I quite despise you for that. You are, without a doubt, the loveliest girl in Hogwarts - "
"Except for Paulettina Farrows," Poppy interrupted as her cheeks flushed.
"Well, at least in Hufflepuff house then," Gabriella wrinkled her nose, "You have your dark curls, and your pale skin, and you are tall and stunning and modest. You are everything any wizard could want out of a wife."
"Thank you, Gabriella," Poppy looked at her slender, white hands.
"And that is why I hate you," Gabriella turned away, and went back to lounging on the bed, "Because you are stunning and I am plain. Plain as a brown goose. I have dull brown hair and dull brown eyes and I am quite browned from spending too much time out boating this summer, where as you are still as fair as ever."
"If you took your parasol - "
"It makes no difference. I hate holding the thing, and as the boat is only big enough for myself and a young man, I can not bring along one of the child servants to hold it for me, unless they were to row in a boat next to me and that is quite an atrocious idea, is it not?"
Poppy nodded, and caught up some unruly curls with a silver comb.
"But you do not think he is good-looking?!" Gabriella suddenly returned to their other conversation, "With those eyes, that hair! The way in which he carries himself, it is simply...Handsome!"
Poppy stood and smoothed her gray dress, "I do not wish to insult your taste in any way, for I have already made clear my great admiration for Mister Dumbledore, so take no offense, I beg you, dear, Gabriella. However, I do not find him very good-looking, for all his sulking and brooding that you find so charming. He is too tall, too gangly, and I especially do not like the way that his ears stick, or how extremely long his nose is."
Without another word, Poppy left the room, leaving Gabriella quite astonished.
The letter did not come, as the person who was supposedly sending it had no intention of doing so at any point during their life, and Gabriella was deeply distraught. She quickly turned to Poppy, who offered as much consolation as she felt proper, considering her rather rash outburst on the potential sender's physical flaws. Gabriella was stubborn, and still insisted on discussing with the other girls how handsome Albus was, but she began to see Poppy's view of things. Soon, Herbology and Muggle Studies with the Gryffindors became loathed lessons. If she was at the same table as Albus, Gabriella would not look at his face, for she would either stare at his nose or his ears or his freckles, which she was beginning to notice, were not only many, but obtrusive. They hid what would have been smooth, rosy tan skin, and to Gabriella, this was unacceptable, as though someone had smeared grease over Monet's greatest works.
So, if she was working at the same table as Albus, she would direct her copious conversation at Nicholas. Nicholas, who was not inclined to converse with anyone but Albus, Paulettina, or the professors, proved an ill-chosen candidate for small talk as well. The only other people nearby on these occasions were Paulettina, who Gabriella did not care to talk to after their encounter of the carriage ride, and Poppy, who was silent. If she was spoken to at all, Poppy would flush very deeply and attempt to bury herself in some plant, and then have to extract herself in the most tedious way, as her curls always got caught and tangled, no matter how smooth they had been that morning when she put them up.
This was all very frustrating to Gabriella, who was aiming to please her parents, first and foremost. She was their only daughter and they wanted to see her married to someone respectable and, more importantly, rich. Second, she was aiming to please herself, and set out in her seventh year to find herself a rich and handsome match. It was turning out more difficult than she had planned on. Certainly, she, who was beautiful (she thought), rich, and from a well-respected pureblood family, would have no trouble finding a handsome young bachelor with modest prospects and a large fortune in Gringott's? Honestly, almost everyone at Hogwarts was rich and handsome, so to come and find herself at a loss, well, you can imagine how much it would hurt her. It would hurt any young woman.
"He is so terribly frustrating!" Gabriella exclaimed, "I have no idea what sort of mind game he is playing with me. He does not speak to me, does not look me in the eye, he hardly bows to me when we pass in the hallway, he avoids me at all other costs, and after dinner last night he would even come to fill out my book!"
Gabriella pouted and sat heavily down on her bed. Poppy, who was pulling on her night
cap, could not help but think that Albus Dumbledore's avoidance of her friend was for a very obvious reason, but Gabriella would not listen to anything she did not wish to hear, so it was pointless for Poppy to try and explain.
"It is a great puzzle," Poppy said instead as she sat down on her bed, "But I think that, if you give it time, he will be able to sort out his intentions."
Gabriella was easily pleased, Poppy knew, and she showed it.
"Of course!" Gabriella exclaimed, "You are brilliant, dearest! He must be terribly confused right now. No doubt that his parents have someone in mind, but he has not found them to be correct for him, probably too dull or ignorant to be the wife of a great mind such as he. He simply has not told his parents yet, for fear of disappointing them, but when he does and they realize what a mistake they made, then he can tell them of his long-hidden affections for myself!"
With that, Gabriella hugged Poppy, blew out the candle, and went to sleep. Poppy did not go to sleep, but sat by the window and looked out over the grounds, dark and lifeless in the night, the dew on the grass reflecting the starlight. She felt nothing but contempt towards Gabriella. Albus Dumbledore was a good, honest young man. Surely he would not be tempted by Gabriella, for all her money (Gabriella was to inherit a good deal from her parents when she was married), and all her open advances on him. Poppy sighed, and, seeing the late hour, went to bed.