You married young—too young. You were barely out of Hogwarts when you found yourself standing at the altar, hands clasped with a man a few years your senior, William, whom you'd met one summer in Edinburgh. Your youthful romance swept you off your feet, and before you knew it, you were promising to spend the rest of your life with him.

In the beginning, everything seemed perfect. William painted a picture of a future filled with luxury and happiness, and you believed every word. Each promise he made felt like a beacon of hope, and he seemed to make good on them—until he didn’t. He turned cold, his gaze became distant, and his behavior shifted from neglectful to outright cruel.

You couldn’t understand why this was happening, but you stayed silent. You had loved him with all your heart, devoted yourself to him entirely, and the thought of leaving was too terrifying to consider. You lived together in a cramped, ugly flat in one of the poorest neighbourhoods in London, a far cry from the grand life he had promised you. Despite his assurances of wealth, it was your job that kept you both afloat, leaving you drained and with nothing for yourself.

On days when the weight of it all became unbearable, you would escape to Bermondsey Beach. It was there, as if by some unspoken agreement, that you would often find your childhood friend, Theseus Scamander. He was a tall figure against the bleak November sky, his broad shoulders wrapped in a coat, his sharp jawline clenched as he stared out at the water. His blue eyes, though distant, always softened when they met yours, and his dark blonde hair was tousled just enough by the wind to add to his effortless charm.

Theseus knew it was wrong, this love he felt for you, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away. “As long as I can't have you, I'll keep you in my memory and love you just as I do now," he murmured, his eyes looking at the sea.

And though it was wrong, it was in those moments with him that you felt the most alive.