Chapter 2

Margaret looked around her in distaste. She couldn't believe Vivian's audacity, summoning her to Professor Merlin's office like it was her own. But faculty was low on space, so it made sense that they'd assigned it to Vivian when Merlin went on Sabbatical; after all, Vivian had been Merlin's research assistant ever since her graduate days.

Most of Merlin's (Professor Merlin, Margaret corrected herself) things were still here, from the dusty tomes on the shelves to the numerous loose papers, dissertations and other academic paraphernalia scattered haphazardly around the room. 'Organized Chaos' she'd called it, the few times Margaret had visited her. Happy times.

However, there were definite signs of its new occupant redecorating. The unused desktop computer had been pushed unceremoniously into a corner, stand and all, and a brand-new silver laptop sat gleaming on the ornate desk that faced the door. The old oak desk itself had been given a facelift: instead of the leather writing pad, it now sported a clear Perspex cover, several multi-coloured crystals and a wrought iron desk ornament that looked like a clawed hand rearing up to attack.

Margaret shivered as a chill rolled down her spine. Get a grip! She chastised herself. There's nothing to worry ab-

"Ah, you're already here. Good," Vivian stalked in and slumped heavily into the large chair behind the desk. Her bobbed hair was flyblown. Smoothing it down with her hands, she looked craftily at Margaret seated demurely in front of her.

"Now that you're in your 2nd year and… certain new students will be entering these hallowed halls..." Vivian paused for dramatic effect. "I thought it might be a good idea to remind you of our little 'ground rules'."

Margaret tensed.

"Of course you're aware how much I value my first years," Vivian gushed, "I want nothing but the best for them. It would be horrible if any of them were to, say, lose out on the chance to get the Pendragon Grant for Excellence because they were -" she paused to consider her words carefully, "- distracted"

Margaret looked at Vivian in horror. "You wouldn't."

The Pendragon scholarship was a lifeline to most students who simply couldn't afford the tuition of this esteemed school. Gil, she knew, fell firmly into that category. Despite being the son of a former professor, he had inherited precious little, pulling himself through school only thanks to the generosity of the school board and his father's old friends.

One of whom was Baltra Liones, once the chancellor of this University and Margaret's father.

Vivian gave a tinkling laugh. "Of course I wouldn't, silly! But other members of the selection committee might, especially when they hear who Gilthunder is and why he needs the scholarship. I'm sure you wouldn't want those fastidious old farts to find out that his father had killed himself after 'misplacing' some very important funds." She narrowed her eyes at the young woman in front of her.

Even after 10 years, the accusation felt like a punch in the gut, but Margaret refused to back down from Vivian's gaze. How dare she! But she also remembered how easily the faculty board had been persuaded into believing the version that Vivian, an undergrad at the time, and a young lecturer named Hendrickson had presented. It had resulted in a public scandal that poor Gilthunder had never lived down and, with his mother already gone, he'd virtually become a pauper overnight.

"This is harassment," Margaret muttered low in her throat.

"No it's not," Vivian shot back confidently. "I'm well aware of the law my dear, so tattling to Daddy or daddy's old friends isn't going to help you here. Nor will Student Services or HR, I'm afraid." She suddenly leaned back, looking thoughtfully at Margaret. "I suppose you know that Dr. Hendrickson is now the head of HR?"

Margaret lurched forward suddenly, bile rising in her throat. She recalled how Vivian had cheerfully volunteered as a chaperone or substitute teacher when they were in school in order to get close to Gil, her actions overbearing and often suffocating, but never illegal or actionable. It was no secret in their hometown that she'd harboured an obsession for Gil. Even then, Vivian had been skilled at ingratiating herself with the people who mattered, and Margaret had no doubt that it was the same now.

Which meant her complaints would fall on deaf ears.

"So, Margaret," Vivian almost hissed her name. "What'll it be, hmm?"

Margaret knew she was trapped. "You - you're… you're a witch!" she burst out in frustration.

Vivian laughed again, "And don't you ever forget it! So, your answer?"

But there was no need for one, and both women knew it. Margaret stood up, pushing her chair back into place and trying hard to keep her turbulent thoughts off her face.

As her hand grazed the doorknob, Vivian's voice cracked like a whip behind her.

"I'd better not see or hear about you two together, or someone will be reading a rejection letter very soon."

Margaret swallowed past the thick lump in her throat. "I understand," she said quietly and walked out, closing the door behind her.


A/N: Thank you to everybody who visited and the ones who followed and favourited! Your support means the world to me since I'm just finding my feet here. Did I mention how much I adore Margaret? Who's your favourite out of the 3 sisters? Please leave a review so I know what I can improve. I plan to keep writing for this fandom as long as I can so any and all feedback is welcome :)