March 1st, 1895 — Flourish & Blott's Bookstore, Early afternoon
Angelica had decided to live. She had spent the better part of the last three and a half years overshadowed by a husband who forgot his duty to love her. She’d been punished by his silence and his secrets, her heart shattered repeatedly by his rejection and the loss of the child that never was. Angelica had lost herself and her direction, allowed another to dictate her world, and watched it narrow to nothing. She promised herself, after Viktor, that she would never be made a fool by a man again. And yet, she’d become her husband’s fool, a shadow of herself. Emrys had given her his name and his protection, such as it was, and then tossed her aside. She could not wither and die awaiting his love. She refused.
It was both easy and frightening to seek out Marion Flourish. She was one of the brighter lights in Angelica’s year, a Ravenclaw worth the title. When Angel first caught the then-Miss Hawthorn in the library with a book on linguistics, Angel’s appreciation of the other girl easily doubled, and Angel was more than happy to share her passion and proficiency with her classmate. For all intents and purposes, the girls had become friends then. Angel blamed the men in their lives for separating the two after graduation.
She and Marion had reconnected after Angelica returned from Russia, their connection both intellectual and fulfilling. Angelica had been happy to dote on Marion’s boys when they were born, and she regretted never having them as students. But that was her life before Emrys, now lost to her.
When she stepped into the bookstore, Angelica did so with a hint of unfamiliar trepidation. She hadn’t seen the other witch in over a year and had no idea how her appearance would be received. Angelica could only hope. She didn’t have to force her smile when she saw Marion, head bent over a book. At least, some things never changed. “Pardon me, I’m looking for something interesting,” Angel asked in Italian, eager to see the light of recognition in the other woman.
It was both easy and frightening to seek out Marion Flourish. She was one of the brighter lights in Angelica’s year, a Ravenclaw worth the title. When Angel first caught the then-Miss Hawthorn in the library with a book on linguistics, Angel’s appreciation of the other girl easily doubled, and Angel was more than happy to share her passion and proficiency with her classmate. For all intents and purposes, the girls had become friends then. Angel blamed the men in their lives for separating the two after graduation.
She and Marion had reconnected after Angelica returned from Russia, their connection both intellectual and fulfilling. Angelica had been happy to dote on Marion’s boys when they were born, and she regretted never having them as students. But that was her life before Emrys, now lost to her.
When she stepped into the bookstore, Angelica did so with a hint of unfamiliar trepidation. She hadn’t seen the other witch in over a year and had no idea how her appearance would be received. Angelica could only hope. She didn’t have to force her smile when she saw Marion, head bent over a book. At least, some things never changed. “Pardon me, I’m looking for something interesting,” Angel asked in Italian, eager to see the light of recognition in the other woman.
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