บท 719: Mulciber Matchmaking Ⅳ
With Mulciber Sr. otherwise occupied with the physical repercussions of the laxative potion laced tea, the Greengrass are thankfully left alone to converse with the rather solemn Peregrine. Certain that Mulciber Sr. is gone and out of earshot the eldest daughter of Mordecai, Edna Greengrass rises indignantly to her feet. Feeling furious and humiliated she points at Peregrine. "Have the lot of you gone roaring mad?! You wish for me to marry into that household and a squib at that! I'd sooner marry one of those new money families than into that household!"
Not waiting for her family's reaction, Edna storms out of the parlor room with her mother, Phyllis chasing steadfastly after her daughter to comfort her. "Well, that went better than expected considering the circumstances," Benedict drily muttered as he took a sip of his tea that was not laced with any laxatives.
"How dare he lie to me!" Mordecai raged and sputtered indignantly. "I shall see Mulciber receives his proper dues!"
"Really, brother? And what is that?" Benedict crisply asked causing Mordecai to drastically wilt.
"Er, well," Mordecai panicked as his younger brother and grandmother gazed at him expectantly. Faking a cough, he stammers, "Can't breathe," and sips at his tea as he tries to bring his fake cough under control.
Ethel's features return to normal mostly except for her still sharp talons. Her talons pensively tap against the tablecloth causing tiny tears in the cloth. "I should take his head, it would be within my right," Ethel hissed causing Mordecai to pale further at the grotesque image described.
"Calm yourself, grandmother," Benedict said as he took a bite out of a pastry.
"Yes, grandmother!" Mordecai keenly added. "We mustn't do such things that are frowned upon in proper wizarding society!"
"Why aren't you choking, Mordecai?" Ethel pointedly asked through narrowed eyes causing Mordecai to whimper and fall silent.
"Madam may I be permitted to speak?" Said Peregrine, whom all the Greengrass members had temporarily forgotten about. The entire Greengrass turn their gazes towards Peregrine in unison. It was a bit disturbing to see hawk-like eyes turn in to gaze at him especially that of the elderly Veela and family matriarch, Ethel Greengrass.
Ethel's talons curl for a moment into the tablecloth leaving visible holes, before relaxing. "Speak," she coldly ordered leaving no room for protests.
"Thank you," Peregrine sincerely said as he pulled himself straight up to gaze sincerely at the elderly Veela. "I wish to speak the truth and lay the terms for my proposal."
Peregrine paused, but there were no interruptions as he continued to speak. "I was raised in the Mulciber household until I was ten years of age. Knowing that my father would soon rid himself of my existence for in his eyes my being a squib was a sin that needed to be erased. Despite the repercussions, my mother, Meredith defied the deadly plans of the one who sired me. In the dead of night, she stole me away and carefully hid me away from even my father's reach," his words drew aghast gasps from Constance and Rosie Greengrass, while Mordecai, Ethel, and Benedict all pensively narrowed their eyes at the truthful, but the severity of the statement.
"My mother cannot escape the grasp of my father and as the matriarch said before, she is tied to him for life and he will not release her," Peregrine flatly admitted.
"Incidentally, I came to live with a distant squib cousin of my mother. I was raised in the muggle realm and was even schooled there. I thought I would never return to the wizarding realm until the Gringotts proposal was announced. By sheer coincidence or even fate one might call it, I had recently graduated with an accounting degree from a muggle university by the name of Oxford. To my surprise and great honor, I was granted a position at Gringotts. By my own merits, I have since been promoted and earn a rather good living for myself, if I do say so," Peregrine confidently declared.
"I have no desire for any of my father's fortune nor all that which my lineage can offer except for the redemption of my mother from my father's hands. I would never have accepted my father's bargain to marry if not for the death of my younger brother, and the devil's bargain that he offered in exchange for my mother's freedom," Peregrine's face twisted with bitterness. "However, I cannot abandon my family again, and I will accept the devil's bargain if it will grant my mother a semblance of freedom as much as can be given under the circumstances.
There is a moment of hushed silence as Ethel further eyes the male before her and her talons retract. Gazing at her talons for a moment, she sighs in understanding. "Instincts are never wrong," she grumbled to herself, before raising her hypnotic gaze. "I can sense your words are sincerely spoken, eldest son of the Mulciber's. However, if I grant your petition, can you truthfully vow that you will do all in your power to protect the descendant of my flesh? Can you uphold such a vow even above that of your own life?"
"I will freely vow it now with no conditions attached," Peregrine sincerely answered as he took a sharp butter knife and dug it into the flesh of his thumb. "I, Peregrine Mucliber, will pledge my life in turn and vow to be true, and all I request is that I least be heard and considered. So, mote be." Despite being a squib, such a vow is true as a dark droplet of blood falls to the ground and seemingly evaporates. And though squibs did not possess magic, that did not mean that their vows were not any less binding.
Wincing, Peregrine sets the butter knife and takes the offered handkerchief from Benedict to tie around his thumb and staunch the bleeding. He should have just slicked the skin instead, he cut the fleshiest part of his thumb. He would have to take a healing potion later otherwise he'd not be able to hold a quill when he reported for work.
Pensively, Ethel studies the wizard for a moment, before turning her gaze to one of her dearest great-granddaughters, Rosie. "Mm, what do you have to say on the subject, my sweet one?" She gravely asked her great-granddaughter.
Rosie blinks with some apprehension as all eyes turn and focus on her. Still, she does not wilt under the combined gazes and instead tilts her head high to gaze steadfastly back at them. "Great-grandmother has always said to trust in our instincts, and I feel that he speaks true," she decisively replied as her Aunt Constance squeezes her held hand as if to give her more courage. "I do not mind being wedded into such a house even if there lay some danger ahead. I believe it is a worthy gamble on my part and it will tie our two families as allies in these tumulus times."
"Well said, Rosie!" Mordecai exclaimed only to quickly clamp up at a single glance from his grandmother. Prudently, he decides to remain silent and pretend that he is a piece of furniture blending into the background.
"I see," Benedict said with a sad smile, "I never thought to hear those words spoken again." He turned his gaze to Peregrine with mixed feelings. "I once heard a similar phrase from a girl, I once knew, your mother," he explained as he produced a golden betrothal contract produced by Gringotts.
"Mother?" Peregrine blankly asked.
"A kind and intelligent girl, Marlene Bell always was," Benedict explained. "However, she was trapped by the love for her father, and well, you know her story no doubt rest better than most."
"A friend?" Peregrine further asked.
"A friend of one of my cousins," Benedict genuinely answered as he had been older than the girl, but he had always looked after his many female cousins, who came to visit. And she had happened to be friends with one if his younger female cousins, who studied at Beauxbatons.
They had been so youth then youths full of dreams and emotions. Many had married, others had left for distant lands, and some long-dead for one reason or another. Time is rather fleeting, and we fail to see that which is precious until it is long gone and out of our grasp.
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EsliEsma
EsliEsma Squibs likely are born like broken jars that as they grow older, their magic simply leaks out until it dries up. For example, Arabella Figg was not affected by the wards surrounding the Dursley home-like Wizarding folks. At the same time, the same magic Arabella could use things like the floo or even connect to her cat's in a manner which was more than than ordinary. Hence, why I think that being a squib is like a mutation, an illness that becomes permanent, but slowly heals itself over several generations aka muggleborn witches and wizards.
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