It was normal, Grace thought, for girls to grow up dreaming of their own weddings. Of the dress, the flowers, the guest lists, the musical arrangements—oh, and the groom of course. It had been her default late-night daydream throughout her years at Hogwarts. She already knew what kind of dress she would wear (one without lace, it was too itchy) and what sort of husband she would have (someone with kind, warm eyes), but she'd also considered what kind of people her siblings would end up with.
Verity needed someone ambitious but patient—someone without a temper who would love he through her moments. She remembered how heavy the weight on her chest had been when Verity had married Mr. Swann.
Clemetine needed someone bright and just as clever as her. Someone who was competitive but kind, and not probably not very stubborn since Clementine would have enough of that for both of them.
Noble needed someone patient but vibrant, someone who would support him and share in his excitement over his potioneering pursuits. Someone clever enough to lure him away from his workbench when he got too involved with his work. Someone he could trust.
Ford... well, Grace had always seem him with someone who possessed patience above all else. Someone tender, someone sweet. Someone who understood that he would always put other people's needs above his own, and would put him first because of it. Grace had always thought he'd end up with some mousy young woman who liked to read and constantly reassured him that it will all be well, and everything will seem better once you've got a good night's rest. Someone who would not add to his stress, but actively alleviate it.
Miss Farley did not seem that type, although Grace didn't dare speak that aloud.
She had nothing against Miss Farley—she was kind, and seemed loyal and friendly and capable of providing all the love and support Ford needed from a wife. But she was also... a hurricane of a girl. Maybe it was a mischaracterization, since Grace still remembered the rumors about her following the diary scandal at Hogwarts years ago, so maybe she ought to keep her mouth shut. Maybe there was a part of her mind that actively sought reasons to dislike Miss Farley, because it didn't seem like Ford was actually excited to marry her.
Or maybe it was as simple as this: Grace did not want Ford to get married to Miss Farley because she was not ready for Ford to get married.
The thought had her choking up from where she sat in the corner of the parlor, a half-knitted crocheted blanket draped across her lap as she twirled the hooks in her right hand. She tried to distract herself, but she suspected she was very much like her siblings in that respect: she could try all she wanted not to stress, but the stress would inevitably overtake her.
The moment Ford entered the room, Grace stopped all pretense of crocheting and instead watched him pointedly ignore her on the way to the bookshelf. Her brows furrowed, but she stopped herself from saying anything, certain he would at least greet her. It was the night before his wedding, after all—what better time to at least try to crack a joke?
Ten seconds passed, then twenty, and Grace soon found it more awkward not to say anything than to say something stupid. "Ford," she called quietly, tilting her head in an attempt to see what he was looking for. "What are you doing?"
Verity needed someone ambitious but patient—someone without a temper who would love he through her moments. She remembered how heavy the weight on her chest had been when Verity had married Mr. Swann.
Clemetine needed someone bright and just as clever as her. Someone who was competitive but kind, and not probably not very stubborn since Clementine would have enough of that for both of them.
Noble needed someone patient but vibrant, someone who would support him and share in his excitement over his potioneering pursuits. Someone clever enough to lure him away from his workbench when he got too involved with his work. Someone he could trust.
Ford... well, Grace had always seem him with someone who possessed patience above all else. Someone tender, someone sweet. Someone who understood that he would always put other people's needs above his own, and would put him first because of it. Grace had always thought he'd end up with some mousy young woman who liked to read and constantly reassured him that it will all be well, and everything will seem better once you've got a good night's rest. Someone who would not add to his stress, but actively alleviate it.
Miss Farley did not seem that type, although Grace didn't dare speak that aloud.
She had nothing against Miss Farley—she was kind, and seemed loyal and friendly and capable of providing all the love and support Ford needed from a wife. But she was also... a hurricane of a girl. Maybe it was a mischaracterization, since Grace still remembered the rumors about her following the diary scandal at Hogwarts years ago, so maybe she ought to keep her mouth shut. Maybe there was a part of her mind that actively sought reasons to dislike Miss Farley, because it didn't seem like Ford was actually excited to marry her.
Or maybe it was as simple as this: Grace did not want Ford to get married to Miss Farley because she was not ready for Ford to get married.
The thought had her choking up from where she sat in the corner of the parlor, a half-knitted crocheted blanket draped across her lap as she twirled the hooks in her right hand. She tried to distract herself, but she suspected she was very much like her siblings in that respect: she could try all she wanted not to stress, but the stress would inevitably overtake her.
The moment Ford entered the room, Grace stopped all pretense of crocheting and instead watched him pointedly ignore her on the way to the bookshelf. Her brows furrowed, but she stopped herself from saying anything, certain he would at least greet her. It was the night before his wedding, after all—what better time to at least try to crack a joke?
Ten seconds passed, then twenty, and Grace soon found it more awkward not to say anything than to say something stupid. "Ford," she called quietly, tilting her head in an attempt to see what he was looking for. "What are you doing?"
