CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR! ༉‧₊˚✧
━━━━ ⋆𖤐₊˚.༄ ♡ ━━━━

SURPRISINGLY, ZOYA COULDN'T wait for school to start up once more. This upcoming September First would be the last time that she would ever get on the Hogwarts Express to start a magical school year or eat the welcoming feast in the Great Hall to celebrate. And then, after that, everything was over. She would be married and forced to spend the rest of her life with a corpse.

Well, technically, Manav Kashyap wasn't a corpse, but he was nearly double Zoya's age, so in her eyes, he might as well be. He was a bully, to say the least. A man who had never been treated right in school, so he took his time in making sure that he became known for his heinous character.

She still hadn't fully come to terms with the idea of her getting married within the year. She was barely seventeen and still a child attending school while preparing to marry a fully grown adult man.

She hadn't told anyone yet. Not her friends, nor her boyfriend.

Rahul.

How the hell was she supposed to tell the boy she had been in love with forever that their story would come to a close within the year? No more chapters would ever be written — except maybe an epilogue, where he's living through his happily ever after, while she suffers sad and alone watching everything from afar.

What would their lives be like in just 5 years? Zoya would be married, sure, but is it possible that she might have kids by then? Would Rahul?

How could Zoya ever be a mother when she is still a child herself? The thought drove her completely mad.

That was a common occurrence recently — Zoya Talwar going mad.

In fact, just the day prior, she had lost it. It started with the two sisters eating dinner silently with their parents. Their day was just like any other: wake up, train, eat, train some more, eat, and then sleep.

Zoya and Diya sat next to each other, the only noise in the entire room coming from silver spoons hitting plates. 

Nothing was amiss until the unthinkable happened: Chandrika spoke up.

"I hope you've prepared for tomorrow," Chandrika spoke in English.

Diya spoke for her, looking up from her plate as her face wrinkled, "What's tomorrow?"

"The Kashyaps have invited Zoya to lunch." Chandrika shrugged nonchalantly, lifting her spoon to her lips.

"They what?" Zoya whispered in shock. "Why didn't you tell me ahead of time?"

"I thought I did. Must've slipped my mind, that's all."

"You didn't think I would need time to process that?" Zoya's voice began to raise now.

"Zo..." Diya tacitly warned.

Chandrika looked up from her plate now, too, dropping her spoon noisily. The woman was growing increasingly tired of how all three members of her family seemed persistently at odds with her.

"You'd do well to learn your place in this family, Zoya! You are the eldest daughter, as was I, and you have the job of being the role model to Diya." Her voice was eerily calm, though her words felt virulent to her daughters. She turned to her husband, "Honestly, Abhi. If I had half of her courage when I was a child, I would be Minister for Magic at this point!"

Chandrika picked her spoon up once more, grabbing the napkin from her lap and folding it gently in her hands.

Her breathing steadied as she folded, keeping her calm while reminding herself of her position. She carefully cleaned the spatter that her food made when she dropped it.

Diya timidly spoke her, making her place known while attempting to leave the pot unstirred, "Maa, I think that Didi was just trying to—"

Chandrika inhaled once more, clearly ready to shoot back, when Abhimanyu grabbed her arm.

"Girls, I think it's best if the two of you head to your rooms and try to figure out what Zoya will wear tomorrow afternoon." He said, rubbing his wife's arm calmingly. He shot a look to Diya, and she looked down.

As the two teenagers walked noiselessly to Zoya's room, she simmered with anger. Why does it seem like everyone in the house knows why I'm getting married except myself?

Like a robot of sorts, Zoya walked over to her vanity, sitting down wordlessly.

Zoya noticed that Diya spoke very timidly, as if unsure of herself. Clearly, Chandrika's mood swings were a family-wide issue.

Diya closed the door behind her, "So I'm assuming we're starting with makeup first?"

Zoya nodded. "Yeah."

Without speaking, the two sat in front of the mirror as Diya began to paint gorgeous hues of pink on her sister's eyes and lips.

The two sisters had always had an agreement with their beauty regiments. Diya handles the makeup, and Zoya takes care of the hair. Of course, everything became much easier after Zoya turned seventeen since her magic was legal now, but that didn't stop her from taking the time to put patience and care into every hairstyle.

Diya's love for makeup was always present, but rarely on herself. Although she adored cosmetics, she always used her talents on other people. Whether it was for an impromptu party at school or a gala that Zoya was stressing over, Diya was always there, makeup ready.

According to Zoya, even though Diya was horrible at most art forms, all her sister needed to become a modern Van Gogh was a bumpy canvas.

Who will do my makeup when I live with the Kashyap's so far away? Zoya thought to herself.

Who will tease Diya when she stumbles while she dances or when she misses her target during training?

How am I supposed to fulfill the duties of a wife when I don't even think I can boil an egg on my own?

Diya had just started to draw the eyeliner on her canvas' eyes when her grief overwhelmed her, eyes welling with tears.

Diya noticed immediately, tossing the brush down on the vanity as she lowered herself down to her knees. "Shit! Did I poke you?"

Zoya laughed tearfully, looking up to the ceiling as she shook her head, "No, I just—"

She couldn't get another word out before she choked on her tears, her hands coming up to her face as she rubbed her eyes, trying anything to stop.

As she cried, she felt her nails scratch her nose and cheeks numerous times, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. Somewhere deep inside of her, she believed that maybe the more damaged she looked tomorrow, the less Manav Kashyap would want to marry her.

"Zo, hey!" Diya hugged her sister.

It didn't help. Zoya continued to rub her face raw, her hands moving in irregular circular patterns.

The younger sister grabbed her sister's wrists, pulling them into her chest. "Hey! You're going to hurt yourself, Zoya."

Her sobs slowed now, but the tears didn't.

Diya still held Zoya's hands to her chest with one hand as she pulled her into a tight hug. She began to rock them and forth in a lulling motion.

She sniffled, "I'm sorry I ruined your work."

Diya's eyes welled up now, too. "That's the last thing I'm worried about, Zoya."

With the confirmation that Diya wasn't mad at her, Zoya leaned back into the hug, her back shaking with sobs as the two sat there, the gravity of her situation sinking in.

༉‧₊˚✧

Zoya couldn't recall any of what she had done the next day before arriving at the restaurant. It was just her and Diya who stood in front of the entrance.

As she looked through the windows of patrons eating in the restaurant, there was only one man whose face was daunting enough to be Manav Kashyap.

It helped that he was also the only person who looked Indian enough.

"Do you really think that the answers to your future lie behind that door?" Diya teased, her arm still linked with her sister's.

She shook her head, sighing, "Probably not. I doubt anything will change his mind about us getting married. It's a win-win for him: a young, innocent girl, and no more gossip about his love life."

Diya patted her sister's back comfortingly, "I'm so sorry, Zoya. I just wish that dad would tell us why you have to get married in the first place."

"I don't even think it matters anymore. At the end of the day, I'm getting married, and there's nothing we can do to change that." Zoya unlinked her arm from Diya's and walked forward, pulling the door open and smoothing her hair down as she walked up to the hostess stand.

Diya watched as her sister walked away with a frown. Sighing, the younger sister turned away from the restaurant, leaving Zoya with her fate for the moment.

"Hi, how are you!" The hostess greeted, her hair in a ponytail to avoid blending in with her black shirt.

"I'm fine. How are you?" Zoya smiled as the girl smiled in return, her thumbs up. "I'm here for Kashyap?"

The hostess's eyebrows scrunched together as she scanned the page for the reservation. "Ah! Here it is. Table for two. Mr. Kashyap is already at Table 17 if you want to follow me?"

Zoya smiled, lifting her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear before realizing that it was already clipped back on that side. "That would be lovely."

As the two walked closer and closer to the table, Zoya pushed down her doubt.

When Zoya first laid eyes on him, it was an emotion unlike anything she had ever felt. She had watched romantic movies growing up. She had read books too. There had always been that breathtaking moment when you meet your future husband.

This was nothing like that.

Never had she ever been so hesitant to see a stranger in her entire life.

He had already ordered food for the both of them, including a scotch for himself.

Who the hell orders scotch at noon?

After a few seconds of analysis from Zoya, the man realizes who stood before him, returning her gaze as he looked her up and down.

She definitely regretted her outfit now. Chandrika had been the one to choose the blush pink dress for Zoya to wear. She didn't have much of a say in the matter, but staring at this old man's lustful gaze on her young body, she wished she had.

He pushed his chair back and stood up, quickly wiping his dirty hands on a napkin on the table. He nodded dismissively once to the hostess before returning his unwanted gaze onto Zoya.

She turned to the hostess, who was heading back toward her stand, "Thank you."

The young girl smiled at her before returning to her post.

As Zoya turned her focus back onto Manav Kashyap, she noticed he had his hand out, expecting her to return the gesture. Slowly, she clasped her hand in his in an awkward handshake before he attempted to lift her knuckles to his lips.

Zoya tried her hardest to keep a visual reaction from showing on her face as he kissed the back of her hand. He must have felt her uncomfortable demeanor since he dropped her hand not long after.

"I'm Manav." He said, pulling his chair back under him as he sat down.

"Manav Kashyap." Zoya finished. "I know."

He raised an eyebrow in some form of amusement, "You should call me Manav. I would hope that you'll eventually drop the last name since we'll be sharing it."

Zoya smiled half-heartedly. "Sorry. Manav."

"That's better." Manav grinned in return. It was weird, though. Instead of the warm feeling associated with most smiles, Zoya felt hollow as she watched him smile.

Zoya watched as he lifted his glass up to his lips, sipping at his scotch as if it were morning tea. Sighing to herself, she silently readied herself for the remainder of the brunch.

༉‧₊˚✧

Diya knew that Zoya wasn't prepared to face the next chapter of her life in this way, and needless to say, she was pissed with her mother.

Pissed or not, Diya rather liked the way her face looked, and she would prefer not to get slapped again, so she kept her opinion to herself this time, trying to be as helpful to Zoya as she could in her difficult time.

This lunch meeting between Zoya and Manav Kashyap was meant to be one-on-one so that the future couple could figure out if they were the perfect match.

Diya wouldn't let that happen, though.

So as soon as she let Zoya walk into the restaurant, Diya changed her outfit, trying to become as unrecognizable as possible. She threw on a very cheaply made wig (she wasn't looking for quality, after all), a hoodie, and a pair of sunglasses.

She walked back up to the restaurant once more, ready to be the comfort that Zoya may end up needing.

Diya ran past the hostess stand, claiming that she already had a party waiting for her, before seating herself at the closest table to the future couple.

She had chosen Table 24, which had the best view of Zoya's face — and Manav Kashyap's back.

Back over at her table, Zoya sat with her chin in her palm. She tried her hardest to distract herself from the selfish man sitting in front of her. The beginning of their conversation had started with them talking about her.

"So, you obviously know most things about me, but what's new with you? Who is Zoya Talwar?"

A child bride. Her inner voice spoke up. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing.

Even though she was simmering with anger at her present situation, Zoya knew that if she messed up her parents' plans, her relationship with her family would never recover, and that's not something that she could deal with.

She felt so weak and scared. How could she ruin her own life just to keep her safety blanket?

How un-Gryffindor of her.

But at the same time, maybe this was the bravest and most unselfish choice? By sacrificing her own happiness, she was making her parents happy.

Isn't that what being a Gryffindor was all about?

Choosing to ignore her existential crisis, for the time being, she responded with, "Um, well. I'm about to go into my seventh year as a Gryffindor at Hogwarts."

He cut her off, "Ew."

A part of her hoped that he would end the relationship there and then.

Finally! Someone realized how fucking creepy this age gap is!

You could imagine Zoya's disappointment when Manav continued, "I was a Slytherin back when I was at Hogwarts. But, I'll see past this, just for you."

He winked at her, making her stomach turn in ways that probably weren't healthy.

Zoya's response (or lack thereof) was all he needed to continue talking about himself for the next hour.

She zoned out as he rambled on, making sure to nod every once in a while to provide the illusion that she was listening.

Everything in the restaurant captured her attention, except for her future husband, so Zoya noticed the "blonde" girl seated by herself sipping a glass of lemonade.

Diya's disguise was shitty, to say the least. Not only was the blonde wig so obviously fake, but her sunglasses were also low enough on her face that anyone who knew her could recognize her instantly.

As Manav cracked yet another unfunny joke, Zoya beamed at the ridiculous sight of her sister. She had felt so unsupported through this entire ordeal, even though Diya had made it perfectly clear that she would always be there.

As always, Zoya had horrible timing since Manav was smiling back now, making a grab for her hand on the table.

His calloused hands enveloped her small ones, his thumb rubbing her knuckles awkwardly. She resisted the urge to grimace.

"It's been ages since someone has properly laughed at one of my jokes." His face contorted into what Zoya thought might be a smile.

Swallowing, she tried her hardest to preserve whatever happiness he was feeling.

A happy Manav meant happy Chandrika, which meant a happy Zoya.

"Well, that's a shame." She smiled to the best of her ability. "You're kinda funny. Eventually, we'll have more to relate to and laugh about."

The lie slipped past her lips effortlessly.

"So it's set then, isn't it?" Manav sank back into his seat as if he was the child about to marry an old man. "We're getting married."

Zoya saw her chance and took it, "Not if you're not happy!"

"Are you kidding?" Manav made that same face, confirming that it was a smile. "I'll finally have my parents off my back. Same with you."

Zoya visibly deflated. "Yeah. Of course."

That brunch had truly sealed her fate. She was getting married, and soon.

Not long after that, Manav had paid and gotten up from the table, walking straight out of the restaurant and leaving Zoya alone.

"You can come over now, Diya." She called out in the direction of the table, still staring at the table in dejection.

"How did you know it was me?"

"No one else could ever look this ridiculous." Zoya looked up, pointing to her sister's appearance.

"Hey!"

Zoya smiled back at her sister, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It didn't go well?" Diya asked, sitting down in the seat that Manav Kashyap had occupied.

"Honestly, I think it depends on who you ask." Zoya sighed.

"No matter what, you know I'm here for you, Zoya," Diya said once again.

Her younger sister's eyes shone with honesty, making it feel as though warm hands had wrapped around Zoya's heart and squeezed.

"I love you, Diya." She smiled. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Diya smiled mischievously, "You can always repay me by introducing you to your secret boyfriend."

"This again?" Zoya rolled her eyes. "It doesn't even matter now, anyway. Everyone seems pretty set on this wedding happening."

Diya picked her chair up and walked around the table. Her sister watched as she gently puts it back on the ground, sitting down once more.

The two sisters embraced as Diya began, "You still have a year of freedom. Just because everyone is set on the wedding happening doesn't mean that we can't stop it."

Zoya pulled back from the hug to look down at Diya, who rested on her shoulder. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid to stop the wedding, Diya."

"What?" Diya replied, her voice high pitched. "I would never!"

Zoya stared back at her, no hint of amusement on her face. "I mean it. Don't give them a reason to marry you off next."

"Fine. But, this doesn't mean that we can't give you the best last single year ever." Diya wrapped her arms around her sister, shaking her lightly.

Zoya leaned into the embrace, treasuring the moment. With the engagement practically confirmed, it almost seemed like there was a clock in her head ticking down the moments until her life changed forever.

The next few months will be the last free months of my life. There's no way in hell that I won't spend it living life to the fullest. Zoya thought, her eyes closing as she tilted her head onto Diya's shoulder.

༉‧₊˚✧
a/n

i'm not even kidding when i say that the idea for this chapter has existed for almost a year 😭

the gif i made for this chapter and the title was decided on 4jan2021 which is so insane.