Author's Note:
School: Ilvermorny
Year: Exchange 2
Writing School: Write a ficlet with pronouns and in-depth characterisation.
Word Count: 840
Optional Prompts:
[Event] A wedding reception
[Image] Bar at the Folie-Bergere by Manet
[Physical appearance] Perfect posture
Home
"Head up, shoulders back, tummy in. You can do this, Millie," Millicent whispered to herself. She inspected her makeup, re-lining her eyes and reapplying the dusky rose lipstick her mother had thrust into her hands that morning.
"Everyone who's anyone will be at the Malfoy wedding, Millicent," Mrs. Bullstrode had said. "Find a suitable man or your father has plans to betrothe you so you'll finally be off our hands."
"Come on, Millie, it's just a party. It's not the end of the world," Millicent said to her unimpressed reflection.
She turned towards the door, tugging at the lace hem of her dress to ensure it hadn't bunched up. The only thing worse than being the fattest girl at the party was being the fattest girl at the party with her arse hanging out.
Millicent stepped out into the room, remembering to keep her perfect posture in check. Guests danced and chatted in clusters by the appetizer table. Millicent glimpsed Pansy on the arm of a devastatingly handsome wizard. Luckily, neither of them glanced her way, saving Millicent from a barbed conversation about her perpetual singledom. She moved with all the grace her bulky body could muster towards the bar.
"Gin and tonic, please," Millicent said. She desperately wanted to grab a tangerine from the little crystal bowl on her right, but the mental image of juice squirting down her front held her back.
"Here you go," said the bartender.
"Luna Lovegood?" Millicent asked.
"Last I checked," Luna replied. She wore a tight black vest and her wispy blonde hair was up in a high bun. "Enjoy your drink, Ms. Bulstrode."
"Thank you," Millicent said. "This is excellent."
"I'll have what the lovely lady is having." A very tall, very wide-shouldered wizard had appeared on the stool beside her. "Hello, Millie," he said, and her heart lurched.
'Oh Merlin. Breathe in, breathe out. Head up, shoulders back, tummy in,' Millie thought.
"Good evening, Flint," she said, giving him a wobbly smile.
"Marcus, please." He leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, I read every one of your articles at school. I really hope you've kept writing."
"Thank you, Marcus." His name tickled her tongue like little champagne bubbles. "Wow, I didn't realize anyone read my work."
"I'm a fan," he said, wincing.
"Are you well?" she asked.
He sipped his drink. "It's nothing. It's just so good to see you. I've missed our chats."
Millicent thought back. Sure, they'd spent a lot of time together in the common room before he'd graduated, but she'd been one of the guys. She was sure nobody could see her in a romantic way, not with her stocky, matronly shape.
"Those were the days." She quickly sipped the last of her drink.
"Indeed," he replied, frowning. "Millie, I must ask you something."
"Yes?" she asked.
"Why didn't you reply to my letters?"
"Letters?" she asked. "What letters?"
His eyes widened in disbelief. "I sent you letters. After Hogwarts."
"I'm sorry. I never received them, honest!" Millicent thought back to the greedy look on her father's face when he'd mentioned that one of the senior partners at his runic firm had lost his wife to dragon pox. Maybe those years of insults about how she was unlovable had been meant to serve a very specific purpose. She shivered.
"I wanted to see you," Marcus said. "Formally, of course. I wrote a letter, but never received a reply. I thought you hated me."
"I would never!" Millicent exclaimed. "I've always liked you!"
Marcus grimaced and Millicent thought she'd really put her foot in it, but then he broke out into a huge grin.
"Sorry," he said, "I know my teeth are horrible, but I just…that makes me so happy, you don't even know—"
"Is that why you winced before?" Millicent asked. "All I see is a lovely smile."
"They're horrid," he said, "I'm saving up to get them fixed."
"Well, I think that my shape is horrible," Millicent blurted out.
"What? You're beautiful!" Marcus protested.
Millicent softened. "Well, thank you. I just meant that we all are our own worst critics. But now I must tell you something."
"What?" Marcus moved closer to her and she found herself nearly swooning at how safe it felt to be with him. How had she ever convinced herself that it had just been friendship that had kept them up until the wee hours of the morning talking on the plush Slytherin Common Room couches?
"My father wants to marry me off to someone at his job, and he's been sabotaging any potential romantic relationships for his own ambitions."
"How very Slytherin," Marcus said, his eyebrows furrowing.
"So I've decided I'm not going back," Millicent continued. "Can I come home with you?"
He drew her close until their noses were touching. "Yes, Millie. A thousand times, yes!"
Marcus gently tipped up her chin to kiss her tenderly, and for the first time, Millicent's perfect posture failed as she melted into the comfortable bulk of his body.
'Home,' she thought. 'I'm home.'