“Dear Merlin,” Phineas said, with a wince. The only reason to marry off a girl so young was if she were une petite idiote or had gotten herself into trouble, and was thus better off sheltered from society’s eye in some distant marriage to spare everyone the embarrassment. Well, if that was so it was for the best she would be gone, so that he might wash his hands of her existence.
Still – he rolled his eyes, less than pleased by the prospect of granting another student the privilege in her stead. “Well, I won’t have that –” he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, trying to think of the other Slytherin girl’s name and failing – the seeker, the working class ruffian who looked like she’d been hit in the face with a shovel (she probably had, for that matter: wasn’t her father some rough lout?) “– girl taking her place. You will have to find me someone else.” A pity, that even Slytherin could be scraping the bottom of the barrel for prefect candidates nowadays.
Still – he rolled his eyes, less than pleased by the prospect of granting another student the privilege in her stead. “Well, I won’t have that –” he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, trying to think of the other Slytherin girl’s name and failing – the seeker, the working class ruffian who looked like she’d been hit in the face with a shovel (she probably had, for that matter: wasn’t her father some rough lout?) “– girl taking her place. You will have to find me someone else.” A pity, that even Slytherin could be scraping the bottom of the barrel for prefect candidates nowadays.
