She hadn’t even realised quite how far on edge she was until she was waiting, tensed, to see how he took that; but his answer came as a profound relief. It meant that at least they were... well, she would not go so far as to say on the same page yet, with the next to nothing she knew about him, but certainly reading from the same book. Or, at least, hovering in the same library aisle or thereabouts. Mr. Greengrass was sorry, and wanted to make the best of it too.
“Alright.” She smiled again, feeling a knot in her chest – one of the many – loosening ever so slightly as she exhaled. She wanted to be optimistic about this, but... as he had said: it hadn’t been easy to find that line yet, not when she had been feeling defeated all week. But perhaps a little of the pressure of this had been cast aside when he had put down the flowers; maybe a little air had come into the room at the wry face he pulled.
Jemima was very aware that he might well have ruined her life entirely, if he had refused her parents’ urging to marry her. He had forced her hand in the first place, by not maintaining their innocence, but – he wouldn’t have been ruined forever, to be thought a rake. So he had saved her as much as he had condemned her, and she could try to be grateful for that.
(Jack would have saved her too, entirely selflessly on his part. But if Jemima had let him, she would have condemned him to be muttered about, to have his name sullied by mere association, and that – that was not a fair trade at all. She couldn’t have borne the guilt of it.)
So the best of a bad situation it was. “Well, I have always wanted to live in Hogsmeade, so,” Jemima said brightly, in a very tentative attempt to be amusing, “you would not have ruined it entirely.” (Not that the Farley family home was not very nice, in its rambling country cottage kind of way, with a pretty garden and the quaint view of fields behind them... but most of her friends lived in Hogsmeade, and there was not much of interest in the village of Tutshill beyond the local muggles and the quidditch team, and Jemima did not want to live in her parents’ house forever, besides.)
“Alright.” She smiled again, feeling a knot in her chest – one of the many – loosening ever so slightly as she exhaled. She wanted to be optimistic about this, but... as he had said: it hadn’t been easy to find that line yet, not when she had been feeling defeated all week. But perhaps a little of the pressure of this had been cast aside when he had put down the flowers; maybe a little air had come into the room at the wry face he pulled.
Jemima was very aware that he might well have ruined her life entirely, if he had refused her parents’ urging to marry her. He had forced her hand in the first place, by not maintaining their innocence, but – he wouldn’t have been ruined forever, to be thought a rake. So he had saved her as much as he had condemned her, and she could try to be grateful for that.
(Jack would have saved her too, entirely selflessly on his part. But if Jemima had let him, she would have condemned him to be muttered about, to have his name sullied by mere association, and that – that was not a fair trade at all. She couldn’t have borne the guilt of it.)
So the best of a bad situation it was. “Well, I have always wanted to live in Hogsmeade, so,” Jemima said brightly, in a very tentative attempt to be amusing, “you would not have ruined it entirely.” (Not that the Farley family home was not very nice, in its rambling country cottage kind of way, with a pretty garden and the quaint view of fields behind them... but most of her friends lived in Hogsmeade, and there was not much of interest in the village of Tutshill beyond the local muggles and the quidditch team, and Jemima did not want to live in her parents’ house forever, besides.)
