Marguerith Black was seated under the pleasant shade of a plum tree near the small crystal-clear pond in her fiancé's covered garden. Outside, winter's chill dominated the landscape, but inside, heaters kept the temperature warm for the plants and for those seeking a moment of rest. She delicately embroidered a piece for her trousseau. With her mother bedridden due to illness for much of the day, Marguerith had learned to embroider with Rosette to keep her company, eventually growing to enjoy the craft.
It was her first time visiting the Thorne residence in northern England. As it wouldn't have been proper for her to spend the night alone at Pericles' house before the wedding, Hesper had accompanied her niece. However, at that moment, the Black family matriarch was out visiting the nearby village of Wallsburg with the red-haired Pericles.
From a distance, anyone watching the young brunette with green eyes would assume she was alone with her thoughts. But, if they looked closer, they would notice a figure moving behind the bushes near the tree.
"This garden is absolutely stunning," said a girl with dark bobbed hair, stepping out from among the plants. "I think I'll take my next vacation here."
Marguerith, still focused on her embroidery, chuckled softly under the plum tree.
"I think the staff might be a bit uncomfortable if they found someone camping out here," she joked.
The other brunette only smiled, sitting next to her twin. Carmilla Sheridan had been Marguerith's roommate during their years at Hogwarts, and in personality, she couldn't have been more different from the reserved Black. Carmilla was also spending the Christmas holiday in Wallsburg with her family and her fiancé, Abraham Reinfield.
Carmilla sat on the grass, resting her head on her bent knees as she gazed up at the gray sky through the garden's glass roof.
"You'll get your clothes dirty sitting there," Marguerith warned.
Carmilla merely shrugged. "And miss the chance to fully enjoy a garden this beautiful? I want something like this at my and Abe's home," she said dreamily. She had always loved plants, and her fiancé supported her idea of a garden. Shaking off her reverie, Carmilla turned her head to look at Marguerith, who was seated on a bench.
"But you still haven't told me how life as an almost-married woman is treating you. Have you had many romantic moments with your fiancé?"
Marguerith didn't bother looking up from her embroidery, thus missing the mischievous smile on her friend's face.
"My dear Marge, as discreet as ever. I promise whatever you tell me will stay between the two of us. Pinky swear."
Finally, Marguerith lifted her head. Seeing the teasing grin on Carmilla's lips, she shook her head. She knew her friend wouldn't be satisfied without some answer. Lowering her gaze, she replied:
"Pericles is a kind man, Milla. I'm content with how things are going. Besides, you know my obligations lie with my family too. This marriage will be good for all of us."
Carmilla sighed, scooting closer to Marguerith. She leaned her back against the wide trunk of the plum tree, mirroring her friend's posture.
"Obligations don't bring happiness, Marguerith. You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You don't have to be the perfect example all the time."
Marge put down the fabric and needle she was using and gazed at her friend seriously.
"It's not as simple as that," she replied.
Carmilla sighed again. She truly found it difficult to understand Marguerith's situation. She herself had had a relatively liberal upbringing by high-class wizarding standards.
"You know, Marge," Carmilla began, taking on a more serious tone than her usual lighthearted demeanor. "I know things are complicated... Especially for important and traditional families like yours, but I think everyone should prioritize their own happiness."
"Marriage and love are the same only for dreamers like you. And I've told you, Pericles is a kind man. I intend to be a good wife to him. It's the right thing to do."
"Maybe I am naïve," Carmilla replied. "But Marge… you've always been so private. Out of respect for that, Alicia and I often refrained from getting too personal with you, but that doesn't mean we cared for you any less than we did for each other. I just want you to be happy."
The youngest of the Black twins felt her expression soften at her friend's words. She had never suspected that her dormmates had been so concerned for her.
"I appreciate it, Carmilla," she responded with a smile.
However, the other girl didn't return the smile, keeping her grave expression.
"Knowing who you are in wizarding society, I probably shouldn't say this. But if I stay quiet, my conscience won't let me rest." She paused briefly. "It's always been obvious to me and Alicia that you were in love with Alphard ever since we were young. We were thrilled when we heard you were getting married. Alphie told Abe and Bart—"
"If he truly loved me, he wouldn't have left," Marguerith interrupted, letting a hint of melancholy creep into her voice.
Carmilla lowered her head, thoughtful.
"That's something Abe never understood, nor did I. Alphie seemed so happy and resolute. He just up and left, acting as if nothing had happened between you two." She continued, "I know it hurt you deeply. And from everything we've talked about today, it's clear to me that you don't love Pericles—that you're only doing this out of duty to your family. I don't know if I could spend the rest of my life with someone I didn't love. And just because Alphard was an idiot doesn't mean you should have to do this."
Marguerith bit her lip again. Carmilla's words were harsh, nearly aggressive, but the young woman couldn't deny the truth in them. She turned her gaze toward the sewing basket beside her, putting away her fabric and needle.
"It's getting late. I think some tea would be nice right now," she said, standing up and brushing off her dress to avoid looking at Carmilla.
The girl with the bobbed hair sighed again, trying to calm herself. She had never spoken so directly to Marguerith before; she should have expected that it wouldn't work, and that Marguerith's reaction would be to retreat into her shell.
"Thank you, Marge," she replied, more formally than she had intended. "But I must be going; Abe is waiting for me in the village. Thank you for the invitation. It was good to see you again. I also appreciate the wedding invitation, but I won't be able to attend—I'll be in Scotland next month."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but I understand," Marguerith replied. "And thank you for visiting me, Milla."
The other girl nodded. In silence, the two of them walked toward the garden's exit. Marguerith could feel her temples pulsing, as if Carmilla's words were reverberating through her entire mind.
Marguerith opened the door with one hand while balancing the tray of tea in the other. At the office desk, Pericles was focused on the work he had brought home to finish. He wanted to get as much done as possible so he could enjoy the year-end festivities peacefully with his fiancée.
The man only looked up when he noticed Marguerith's shadow cast over the documents he was reviewing.
"Good evening, my dear," he said, looking at her with a tired smile.
She returned the gesture, placing the cinnamon tea cup in front of him. She watched him sip the steaming liquid, noticing his satisfaction in doing so.
"Thank you," he said before taking another sip.
The green-eyed brunette nodded, thinking to herself that this would be her life in the years to come. She had already given instructions for the servants' tasks for the next day. Just like at the Black house, where she helped her aunt and sister manage the manor, she felt quite comfortable with the responsibility and tried to fulfill it diligently.
In the end, her life wouldn't be so bad. Pericles was a good man, and this would be a good home. Even if it meant killing her old, foolish teenage dream.
She felt her fiancé's hand gently grasp hers. Trying to suppress her thoughts and doubts, she looked at him, noticing the concerned look on his face.
"Marge? Are you okay?" Thorne asked in his deep voice. "You've been pale and quiet since I returned from Wallsburg with your aunt."
The young woman just shook her head, forcing herself to smile, albeit faintly.
"I'm just tired, Pericles. And I have a bit of a headache."
The man stood up, gently holding Marguerith by the shoulders and placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
"You've been working too hard. I know the wedding is next month, and there's still a lot to do, but if you keep this pace, you're going to get sick."
She lifted her face, observing him carefully. Pericles was a good man... Marge repeated to herself once more.
He cared for her, was kind, and treated her well... What more could the youngest of the twins want?
"Perry," she murmured in a soft voice. "Since we're so close to the wedding ceremony... Maybe we shouldn't wait any longer."
The man didn't respond immediately, instead observing her facial features intently. He noticed the natural determination in her every action, but there was a trace of something else he couldn't quite pinpoint.
Without saying a word, he released Marguerith's shoulders and walked to the door, locking it so they wouldn't be disturbed. He returned to her, took her hand, and led her to the sofa in the office.
She followed, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. Even as she felt the softness of the sofa, she didn't dare lift her gaze. She felt Pericles' lips touch her forehead again, and his hands gently slide through her hair. She simply closed her eyes, letting her fiancé continue his caresses.
His lips met hers, while his hands moved from her hair to her waist. Pericles briefly pulled away. She kept her eyes closed even after the kiss ended. He held her in an embrace, resting his head in the curve of her neck that peeked out from under her dress collar. Slowly, he began to untie the ribbon of her dress, when he felt her body completely tense up. Pericles immediately let go, which caused her to open her eyes and look at him with a questioning expression.
"We really are close to the wedding ceremony, Marguerith, so we can wait," he said. "I don't want you to do anything against your will. You don't need to prove anything to me."
She opened her mouth, trying to say something in response to his statement, but couldn't find the right words.
"I've been with another man," she finally said.
Pericles nodded. That wasn't common for women from traditional families, but he wasn't going to judge her. Not when he knew that his own mother had married while pregnant with him, though the affair had been kept quiet at the time.
"Was he rough with you?" he asked, concerned.
"No, but he promised to marry me and then ran away..." She felt the sting of pain increase in her chest.
"I'm sorry," he said, adding, "But that's not why we need to rush. Let's enjoy our wedding night slowly."
"Alright," she finally whispered, standing and moving toward the door. "And thank you," Marge said, looking one last time at her fiancé before leaving.
There was no resentment in his eyes, only understanding.
Pericles was a good man, perhaps too good, Marguerith thought as she walked through the house's hallways.
Without realizing it, her feet had taken her to the balcony overlooking the gardens. She leaned on the railing, her eyes resting, with an empty expression, on the landscape. She didn't notice when the snowflakes began to fall from the sky many minutes later, dampening her hair.
She only returned to the real world, rescued from her confused and disjointed thoughts, when she felt the warmth of a hand gently placed on her shoulder.
"Marge? Has something happened?" the older woman asked.
"Aunt..." Marguerith murmured. "Am I really doing the right thing?"
Hesper gently cupped her niece's face; she didn't need to be a seer to know something was troubling the girl's heart. Since her return to Thorne Manor, she had noticed the silent restlessness pulsing within Marguerith.
"Right for whom? Your uncle? You? Pericles?" the older witch asked in a calm tone.
"I don't know..." the young woman bit her lip.
Marguerith sighed, unable to continue. She felt trapped in a snare, one she had partially woven herself.
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, Marge."
The older woman smiled slightly, once again stroking her niece's face. Though Marguerith and Betelgeuse were as reserved as a Black should be, there were things that could be perceived between the lines. Hesper had often wondered if the younger twin was in love with someone else, despite accepting the engagement. Perhaps it was still Alphard, or maybe someone new.
"Many sacrifices are demanded of our position," Hesper continued. "You won't be the first, and unfortunately, you won't be the last Black to find herself ensnared in a relationship for economic and social advantages."
"I know..." Marguerith agreed.
"However..." Hesper's firm voice made the young woman focus all her attention on the matriarch's next words. "If you change your mind and want to call off the engagement, know that you have my unconditional support. I've already stood up to Sirius for Lycoris, and I'd do the same for you."
"I know, Aunt... I know..." Marguerith responded, once again gazing at the horizon.
Marguerith blinked her green eyes, thinking about recent events. The conversations she'd had with Carmilla, Pericles, and Hesper swirled and intertwined in her mind. Only a few days remained until the wedding, just days before the new chapter of her life began.
Marge could simply end it all and face Sirius Black's wrath. It would be unbearable at first, despite Hesper's protection. But in time, her uncle would accept defeat and find another suitor for his niece. Perhaps someone she could fall in love with.
That was the crux of the matter... Could Marguerith fall in love again?
She wouldn't gain anything by defying Sirius. She had nothing left to strive for... Nor was there anything keeping her at Grimmauld Place... Nothing she desired...
Though Hesper had raised them to be intelligent and proactive women, it was still expected of her and her sister to follow the destiny of all traditional family women: to marry and bear their own children.
Why should she fight against it if she had no other dream left?
She felt like an empty shell when she thought about her future.
She heard a knock on the door, pulling her back to reality.
"Come in," she said, assuming it was one of the house's servants or her aunt.
However, it was her fiancé's worried eyes that appeared through the open door, bringing in a tray with breakfast.
"Good morning, Marge. I know it's not appropriate for me to come to your room before the wedding, especially after what we talked about yesterday. But I wanted to see how you were. Hesper said you woke up feeling unwell."
Marguerith simply nodded, adjusting herself in bed so she could sit up and serve herself from the tray Pericles placed on the bedside table.
"I'm just feeling a bit exhausted," she said, before nibbling on a piece of walnut cake.
"May I?" Pericles asked, pointing to a spot on the bed near her. She agreed, understanding that he wished to sit.
"Do you feel bad about what you told me yesterday?" he asked, holding one of her hands. "I don't think any less of you for having had an experience before we met..."
Marguerith lowered her eyes, observing their intertwined fingers. Although it was the end of 1951, a woman's purity was still valued as much as when her aunt and mother had married. To Marge, it spoke volumes about how Pericles felt about her. He seemed different from the other men in their social circle. Yet, after the conversation with Carmilla, she felt insecure.
"Are we doing the right thing?" the young Black asked, hoping the redhead could decide for her.
Pericles gave a half-smile and gently caressed her face with his free hand.
"Only time will tell. Every marriage is a gamble, and I want to believe ours is the right one. All I can promise is to love you and treat you with the respect you deserve."
Still with her head down, feeling a bit better, she replied:
"I want to take that gamble too."