“Brice. What are you talking about? I’m not upset. What do you think I’m going to tell you?”

No, it was far too late now. Brice couldn’t stop the snowball effect that each worry piled on in his mind. And Merlin help him he was so desperately in love with her. He couldn’t tell her of course, he knew what she would do. She would never speak to him again. Because she was betrothed and she was the eldest daughter and she made herself out to be a model of good behavior for her younger sister. And not only that, but here he was, Daisy’s friend and her future husband, lusting after her older sister like some ill-mannered animal. He really shouldn’t have been looking at her legs earlier. Brice glanced down at where her hand was over his, her delicate finger clutched around the square tops of his own. Even her fingers were delightful. Every bit about her was something he loved and was familiar with.

“Oh, Bloody hell.” Brice didn’t know that he’d groaned that out loud as he took his hand from hers and placed his forehead in them, his elbows balanced on the oars while he waited for her to break her bad news to him. And what’s worse was that she apparently wanted him to say it out loud first. That stung; usually Dahlia was a straight forward sort of witch. He appreciated that quality in her, she was very much cut from a stronger cloth than he was, and he admired her for that. If there was someone who could walk into a fire and merely glare it out, it was his Dahlia. No, not his. Never his. Not anymore anyway.

“Just get it over with Dahl.” The boy looked down at his feet, trying to hide away the forlorn look that was weaving its way across his thick, dark brows. “Don’t make me say it…it’ll kill me.” He very much thought it might. There was already a pain in his chest that seemed to be spreading, bunching the muscles at his shoulders and along his neck.

“Brice. Brice. I don’t know what you’re thinking of, but I’m not trying to tell you something upsetting. I got my Hogwarts letter this week.”


“What?” That word was gasped as he looked back up at the girl across from him in the boat. What was she talking about Hogwarts for? She was supposed to say something about their sneaking around and how that was horrible and disrespectful to Daisy and Warwick. Then she was to go on and explain to him that this summer had been nice, but it was over now and she didn’t require his company further. And then he’d nod dumbly and row them back to shore and slink off to quietly contemplate a long walk off the short pier.

“Guess what.”

And then a sense of relief that was so great that it gave him chills when it washed over him, and then that was followed up by a strange sensation that knit its way over his face as he looked at her. Annoyance. Yes, that was the proper word for it, he tried to quell it as he pulled his hands from his face and into his hair, the curls wrapping themselves around his fingers and pulling on the sensitive flesh atop his head.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Brice looked up at the sky for a moment, his words more meant for himself than for Dahlia. After all she’d decided to start this whole ball rolling by making him think that she was going to say something awful. And now he knew what she wanted to tell him.

“Of course you got Head Girl.” He’d not even needed to guess, who else besides Dahlia deserved it? He couldn’t think of a single person in all of Hogwarts. But it was hard to congratulate her when the panic was still swimming in his blood. “I thought you were going to say something…else.” He mumbled, picking back up the oars and looking away.