Chapter 122 - – Only Twelve (1/2)
In the common room, the 5th and 7th years were already calmly studying for their future exams. Of course, that calm would evaporate the closer the exams came. In the meanwhile, Alchemy flutters between chairs and tables being treated like the king he was by his loyal subjects. Although if Terry wasn't careful, Alchemy was going to get fat from all the snacks he was being fed.
Heading up the stairs to the girl's dorms, Rowan enters the elegantly furnished bedroom to find all the three girls huddled around Tiffany's bed. ”What's going on? Terry said that something important was being discussed.” Rowan asked as she placed her book-bag on the floor.
Seeing the red-rimmed eyes of Tiffany, Rowan frowns and says, ”What's wrong?”
”Daddy says he's going to engage me to Vasco Vespucci,” Tiffany sniffed as Bethanie and Silvia wrapped their arms around her.
”But we're only twelve!” Rowan protested in disbelief.
”It's not that uncommon among pureblood families,” Silvia bitterly said. ”The earliest age is twelve, yes, but typically when it is done the betrothal occurs around our 5th or 6th year. Otherwise, not until after we graduate.”
”But why now?” Rowan stammered as she climbed onto the bed.
”Daddy says that the Vespucci's are Italian's and that they want a nice and proper pureblood British bride for their eldest son. But since they're Italian's none of the sacred 28 families will betroth their daughters to them. But mama was a Selwyn before she married daddy and a member of the sacred 28 families. And I'm a second-generation via birth, so they were worried I'd get snatched up and offered Daddy a very large marriage dowry for my hand in marriage,” Tiffany sniffled as she blew rather loudly into a slightly wet hankie.
Bethanie makes soft soothing sounds as she gently rubs circles across Tiffany's back. ”It'll be okay, love, you'll see,” Bethanie whispered. ”At least he's our age and despite being a Gryffindor, he seems to be rather well educated and handsome. And you do like them handsome.”
Tiffany weakly smiles as Rowan asks, ”But surely you'll at least be given a choice, won't you?”
Silvia and Bethanie share gazes, before Silvia says, ”Typically, yes, but that all depends on the family. Personally, my father is rather generous and promised me that I would at least be allowed to finish my education and any mastery of my choice before any discussions of marriage came up. And should I find a pureblood to marry before then, that would fall perfectly in line with my father's wishes. But as I said, it all depends on the family.”
”Well, you could always run away,” Rowan winced as she spoke the sentence.
Tiffany laughs and says, ”I'm twelve and in another five years, I'll be seventeen. By then they'll have made sure to have us exchange rings no later than our 5th or 6th year. No boy after that will even dare come near me. And even if I do manage to successfully run away, I know I wouldn't do very well for myself.
Let's be honest, girls. I'm too vain, a gossip, and an utter ditz. And I know for a fact I'm only passing our courses because the three of you are here to help me. I really don't have much of a talent for anything beyond my pureblood name and my looks. I doubt I really would be able to support myself beyond prostitution. Because I would have too as I would be disowned and be left utterly penniless. Not to mention that but I'd have to leave the isles and head over to the States as Europe is not an option given my family's connection and relatives found in France and Germany.”
”Well, I would always offer you sanctuary,” Rowan said as she gently reached over to squeeze Tiffany's knee.
”That's kind of you, Rowan, but your grandfather is a traditionalist,” Tiffany sniffled. ”Sir Prince would certainly offer me sanctuary himself if I was in mortal danger, but not from a betrothal without any proof of abuse.”
Rowan opens her mouth and closes it suddenly feeling so very lost and so very weak. She thought she could change the future and she might very well. But there were always people who would still get the short end of the stick.
Bethanie sensing Rowan's inner turmoil reaches over and gently cups Rowan's face. ”Sometimes muggleborn witches wonder why we Slytherin and other pureblood witches seem to hate them so very much. It is not that we solely dislike their muggleborn existence, but rather we envy the freedom of choices that their births have offered them. If we're born into a kind family, we already consider ourselves quite lucky. And that much more like in Silvia's case where we are given a choice to make something of ourselves.
However, most of us are not as lucky, we are born into cold homes and then are given into marriage to wizards who generally are just as terrible as our own fathers. And so, rather than love or even warmth every time that we see our cold, unaffectionate mothers, we are filled with absolute terror. For we know and see our own futures selves that will one day numb our own hearts in order to survive.”