Sitting on the bench beneath the oak tree, the young woman closed the book resting on her lap as she noticed that with the arrival of twilight, it was becoming harder to discern the printed words on the pages. She sighed as she realized that the elves were beginning to light the windows of the manor.
She was spending the weekend with Hesper at Cheshire's house, where she had enjoyed many moments of her childhood. Although she knew her visitor would arrive in a few minutes, Marguerith did not feel particularly anxious. It had become a sort of ritual between them since her uncle had invited Pericles for that first tea about a month ago.
Once again, she looked at the small wooden door in a nearby wall. Almost completely hidden under a curtain of ivy, it was only noticeable to those who knew the door was there.
The young woman heard the sound of ancient, rusty hinges creaking before she saw the mild and smiling face of the man crossing the threshold.
"Good afternoon, Pericles," she said, smiling.
"Good afternoon, Marguerith," he replied, returning the greeting. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."
The young woman shook her head in response.
"As punctual as always. I've prepared cinnamon tea for you."
Pericles smiled, watching the delicate and precise movements with which she prepared the tea for both of them. He felt utterly fascinated in Marguerith's presence. They had met almost every day that month, and the man realized he had never felt the way he did with young Miss Black.
He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and took out a small black velvet box, placing it on the table. Marguerith stopped pouring the tea, looking from Pericles to the box and back to the man.
He opened the lid, revealing a gold ring with a large emerald surrounded by diamonds. Marguerith felt her eyes well up with tears as she remembered a much simpler ring she still kept in her jewelry box.
Assuming the young woman was moved by the gesture, Thorne spoke up:
"I know everything is happening very quickly, and you don't need to answer now, but I hope that in the not-too-distant future, you'll agree to become my wife."
Marge lightly bit her lower lip. What could she say? She felt so lonely, even with Hesper in her life. Alphard's abandonment, the absence of her sister—all of it had become a burden. With each passing day, the walls of Grimmauld Place seemed more and more like the bars of a prison. Perhaps with Pericles, she could build a happier future.
"I accept," she finally replied. However, she realized there was something she wasn't ready to give up. "But on one condition. I can't change who I am. And I am a Black."
Pericles nodded. He was born into a family where the importance of women was a fact. It was always a matriarch who led them, so he understood his fiancée's pride in her heritage.
"Then I'm happy to welcome you as my wife, Marguerith Black-Thorne."
The Black family's ballroom in southern England was truly impressive, which was expected, given the family's position in the hierarchy of the wizarding society. But it wasn't the ancient tapestries or the meticulously painted panels adorning the walls that caught Pericles Thorne's attention, nor were the elegantly circulating servants or the lavish table of traditional dishes. What completely absorbed the man's senses was the small, delicate young woman walking beside him with short steps.
Marguerith Black was wearing a blue dress with gold details. Her hair was pulled back in a half-updo with a gold clip encrusted with delicate lapis lazuli stones to match the dress, allowing some curls to fall over the nape of her neck.
She kept her head held high, and even under her makeup, Thorne could see the blush that colored the youngest Black niece's cheeks. The man couldn't help but smile as he noticed her reaction. She was nervous, but even so, she tried to maintain a queenly demeanor.
Two months had passed since he had last seen her, nearly grown, at Betelgeuse and Stephanio's wedding. He had taken an immediate liking to the young woman on that occasion, but he was surprised when the Black family patriarch proposed a long-term commitment with the youngest of the twins.
However, Pericles was no fool. After all, he was a pureblood, and as noble as his intentions and approach to the young woman were, he was not naïve. He recognized that both he and the Blacks could profit greatly from this marriage. But he was not a scoundrel. He had only agreed to court Marguerith because he realized she had accepted the engagement of her own volition.
And now, he was at this grand celebration to mark their engagement. In four months, he and Marge would formalize their marriage. Sirius had been quite clear in proposing the time he deemed appropriate for the betrothal period.
Pericles was happy. He truly liked Marguerith. He felt an immense fondness for the young woman. She was proud and dignified, intelligent and well-mannered. She had grown up admiring strong women, like her mother and aunt. He wanted someone like that by his side.
Yet paradoxically, Marge exuded inexperience while also displaying a desire to learn from the world and life. Pericles wanted to teach her. He was curious to discover what that budding flower would be like when it finally bloomed.
"Marguerith?" he called to her, making her look up. "Would you like to get some fresh air? We still have time before the banquet, and I believe the guests will understand if we take a moment of peace before formalizing the commitment."
She simply nodded, following him to a nearby exit that led to the gardens. For a while, they walked in silence, leaving behind the lively noise of the guests. It had been some time since there had been a celebration of such magnitude in wizarding circles, perhaps not since Betelgeuse and Stephanio Ivory's wedding, so the engaged couple's departure went almost unnoticed despite them being the reason for the celebration.
Noticing they were completely alone, Thorne took the young woman's hand in his, continuing to walk through the garden, now accompanied only by the pale light of the moon.
Marguerith remained silent. The young Black couldn't say she was happy. She couldn't remember the last time she had truly been happy, but she was content. She felt she could have a pleasant life with Pericles. She could become a good wife and a good mother to his children.
He was a kind man, and he respected her. Marge could see the care he had for her.
Two months ago, she had almost hesitated at her uncle's proposal, but now she knew it was the right thing to do.
She needed to forget Alphard. She needed to accept that there would never be a life with him, no matter how much she loved him. Her future was with Pericles, she knew she had to accept that.
"Marge," he called to her again, more intimately now that they were alone.
The young woman looked at her fiancé, feeling her face heat up a bit more.
"What is it, Pericles?" she asked in a soft voice.
The man didn't answer, just moved a little closer, placing his free hand on Marge's waist. Now that the engagement was practically official, he believed he could allow himself a bit more intimacy with the young woman. They were engaged, after all. He had only been excessively respectful because he understood her social position.
So, Pericles leaned in, pressing his lips to the brunette's in a kiss. He noticed the young woman trembling in his arms, but he wasn't surprised; he had expected such a reaction. As far as he knew, she had never had a romantic relationship before her engagement to him.
Marguerith, for her part, closed her eyes, trying to reciprocate her fiancé's kiss equally, but it was difficult as the memory of what she had shared with Alphard flooded her mind.
And she wanted to forget... she needed to forget...
Aribeth Thorne noticed when the couple returned from the gardens. From the smile Pericles wore and the deep blush on Marguerith's cheeks, the druidess assumed they had a pleasant interaction while they were alone.
The young woman noticed they were being watched and turned her attention to Pericles's aunt, letting a discreet smile form at the corner of her lips. She respected and admired Aribeth, even before becoming her nephew's girlfriend. The memory of the druidess alongside the white dragon that Dumbledore had shown her years before left a strong impression, which was solidified when the redhead took Marguerith to be formally introduced to the family before the engagement party.
"Mrs. Thorne," the bride said, addressing the woman who approached the couple. "I'm pleased to see you again."
"I say the same, Marguerith. I'm happy to welcome you into the family, dear," Aribeth said softly. "I know Phineas and Rosette would also be happy for you if they were here."
Marge nodded, a nostalgic expression crossing her face as she remembered her late parents. The affectionate way the druidess spoke of them lowered her defenses on a topic that always pained her. For the first time in years, she felt at peace about the two.
Pericles was pleased with his aunt's approval of the engagement. It wasn't as though Aribeth controlled his life because she was the matriarch and leader of the family, but her opinion was very important to him.
Out of the corner of her eye, Aribeth noticed the figure of Hesper Black appear at the entrance of the grand hall, impeccable and unflappable, as usual.
The druidess fixed her amber eyes on Hesper's face, and the woman allowed a small smile to appear on her lips.
"My dears, please excuse me, but it's been a long time since I've seen Hesper. I believe I need to correct that mistake."
The two women made their way toward each other, meeting in the middle of the hall. Those who observed the scene couldn't help but be struck by how imposing both of them were, each in her own way.
"Good evening, Aribeth," the woman with violet eyes greeted the druidess softly.
"Good evening, Hesper," the redhead replied with equal politeness.
To say it had been a long time since they last saw each other was an understatement. They hadn't met since Phineas Black's funeral. Aribeth had been out of the country when Rosette passed away. And while neither of the two women thought poorly of the other, they both knew that Aribeth didn't hold much affection for Sirius, precisely because of the friendship she had with Phin during his life. Hesper was even surprised by how polite and cordial her husband and the druidess were now that they were about to become one family.
"I never imagined that one day we would be celebrating the engagement of Phin and Rose's daughter with my nephew," the redhead began again. "Especially considering the age difference between them."
The Black matriarch turned her attention to the couple, who were now arm in arm, greeting Cassius and Violet Thorne, the groom's parents, as well as Caractacus Burke, Violet's father.
"The age difference between Phin and Rose was also significant, and they were very happy," Hesper commented, to which Aribeth nodded.
"And I hope our nephews will be too," the druidess agreed, also turning her gaze to the couple.
For a long time, she had been concerned about Pericles's future. Violet had many complications during childbirth, which made further pregnancies impossible. To compensate for the absence of other children, both she and Cassius spoiled their son excessively. He had become an elitist young man, unconcerned with the future, and later, a man who seemed unwilling to take on the responsibilities of adult life. Therefore, it was with a mix of joy and relief that Aribeth received the news of her nephew's engagement to the daughter of her late friends. She wouldn't let her antipathy towards Sirius interfere with the couple's happiness.
"It's a pity what happened to Phineas's newspaper," Hesper said, cutting off Aribeth's train of thought.
"It was better to sell it to the Prophet's people. After what happened to Goodfellow's brother in Poland, leaving England was the best thing for him and Willie. Besides, I believe Goodriac still felt guilty about what happened to Phin," the druidess replied, not hiding the sadness in her voice.
"Where are they now?" the Black matriarch asked.
"If I'm not mistaken, in India."
A waiter approached the two women, offering champagne glasses that they promptly took.
"But let's leave our ghosts and absent friends aside and toast to our future," Aribeth joked.
"Then, to the Black-Thorne," Hesper said as the glasses clinked.