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Post by renard walt goyle on Mar 31, 2019 14:27:59 GMT -7
Ondina Nell Weasley for starters
Something awful had possessed Renard Goyle over the Christmas holidays, and he was having an impossible time shaking it off. The sort of thing that he should have seen coming, because he had played the other half of it only a few months earlier, and was still keeping up his end of the bargain. But now the ball was in his possession and he made quite a few calculated mistakes in a row. The thing in question was that his insolent parents decided to bring up the b-word during Christmas dinner (hint: betrothal). His subsequent reaction of spitting out whatever he was trying to chew drew quite the disappointed looks from two people that couldn’t have been more idiotic. Their defense, which was poor in his opinion, was that they were betrothed by his age, and that it only seemed fit that he be as well. They didn’t like the retort about them being too stupid to know otherwise, and Bryelle’s direct reaction to that was exactly what Renard wanted to do, spit water on his father and then scream out something about ‘needing’ a betrothal or engagement, or whatever it was they were demanding of him.
So Renard did some thinking over the next few days. He knew what it was like to pretend to have an interest in another person; he was still sort of doing that with Lilith De Proost. Despite being dumber than bricks, his parents wouldn’t buy that though. His reaction already told them that there wasn’t a woman in his life and now he had to find one. If he had been more on top of the situation he would have declared De Proost was already in his sights and would have had her help him as he had with her. But that was impossible to do now and he knew he had to take it a step further.
A letter to explaining the details to a certain Ondina Weasley seemed like the perfect way to get her involved. Renard made sure to make it sound desperate, like he was pleading for her to help him. She didn’t owe him a thing, but it also felt like the sort of situation that she would want to get her dirty hands all over. He wanted to make it official too, by taking it all the way to the only place he knew of that would sign and date the paperwork, and, if necessary, rescind the whole thing once his parents got off the crazy train. The other notable offer in his letter to the Weasley girl was that he would be paying her to keep up the act, which he was sure she would be semi-decent at. That was the least of his worries though.
With an agreed upon date to show up to Blishwick’s (bright and early on a Saturday), Renard paced up and down the street in front of the shop, puffing away at a cigarette, as he was known to do whenever put in these sorts of situations. If sidewalks wore down easier, he would have already put a noticeable path in the one he was walking along. He could see Blishwick staring intently at him through the window, probably wondering if he was going to enter or not. There weren’t any other stores nearby that could have a person nervously pacing to and fro, and the matchmaker probably knew that.