Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I do own socks though, however I can't give them to Dobby considering the owner of Harry Potter decided to kill him off.
Chapter One: Flutters
"It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world." ~Chaos Theory
(Atlas and his Burden)
Even if you had a map, you couldn't find it unless you knew. You would have to comb over the area a thousand times with skilled fingers. It seemed difficult to miss, and yet it was nearly as invisible as James' invisibility cloak.
"Curious," I thought as I sat on the worn tire swing, peering around the shabby Muggle playground again, despite it being one of the main settings for my childhood. It was not hidden, and yet nature had attempted to conceal it. It was as if Mother Earth had made a deal with me, that if I kept my haven a secret, then she would too.
The supports of the tire swing were grown over with ivy, and only a few pieces of the faded red paint showed through. The slide was in a battle with a tree and the swings had a bush between them. As a little girl, I had been here far too many times to count, and yet, even though I was nearly seventeen, the legal adult age for a wizard, I could still not help but escape here. It was getting dark, and I still spun lazily in circles on the old tire swing that I had so grown to love more than anything else. I loved it. Not because of the dizziness or the world as it blurred around me, although I did love those things, but because of the euphoric feeling it gave me.
It gave me butterflies. Not those dull ones, not moths in my stomachs, but really beautiful butterflies. The ones you'll remember your entire life. The blue ones that, when they fly into the air, you can see the sunlight catch their shimmering wings. That is the feeling that I associate with love. Whenever you see that person, those butterflies begin to flap incessantly until you can't take it anymore.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to rid the feeling. What I had felt, what I thought I had felt, was nothing more than the barest reflection of infatuation, a simple school girl's crush. Sirius Black was a boy who a girl could easily grow to like. He had ruggedly good looks, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes, a personality that screamed trouble maker, and a cold demeanor that every girl wished to warm and a smirk that every girl wished to kiss away. He was unattainable, and that is what made him so attractive.
This year would be different. This year, I would move on. I would do well in school for a change, play Quidditch like I always did, laugh with my friends, relish in the good moments, and cry in the bad. It would be the same as last year. Except, this year I was learning to cut away the chains that weighed me down. I already had enough on my shoulders, like Atlas with the world bearing down on him.
To most, I'm simply Marlene Mckinnon. I'm in Gryffindor, so people believe I'm brave (in most cases, I'm not. People often have the misconception that boldness is bravery.) I am known for speaking my opinion more often than I should (something I'm looking into, I swear!) I used to drink and besides Quidditch, partying was my sole extra-curricular, and there are a fair number of rumors spreading around (almost none of them are true). I'm a star Quidditch player (growing up as the youngest girl in a family of five brothers can do that to you). But no one assumes what I go through. No one imagines that Marlene Mckinnon is deeper than she seems. That she is not as shallow as people imagine her to be. That she is not as brave as she is made out to be.
Sometimes I really hate misconceptions. At times, I want to throw away everything I know about myself and be like James, laughing and pranking. Some other times, I want to be like Lily, passionate in my studies. And most of the times, I just want to escape my life and fly to the stars. I have as many thoughts as there are stars, and sometimes I think that if I wanted to, I could go to the stars and live in blissful oblivion and just escape everything.
"MARLENE!"
And then reality hits me, and I've got to maintain the image that I've attained again. I stumble out of the playground, casting a last look before I'm off to Hogwarts.
"Goodbye," I murmur. And even though it's only a trick of the light breeze, I can swear the playground says goodbye as well. I stumble out of the bushes and after a small walk, find Maverick, his hands cupped around his mouth shouting my name.
"I'm here, I'm here," I said and he attempts to glare at me, as if in disapproval of my running off. In a few seconds however, he grins, unable to retain any serious expression for longer than a minute. Maverick, seven years my senior at the age of twenty-three, is the epitome of bravery. He wrestles dragons every day, being a dragon keeper. The tips of his curly, dark blonde hair are slightly singed. He refuses to cut them, and thinks of these singed hairs as a sign of his bravery. He is impulsive, acts without thinking, and walks around as if he owns the entire bloody planet. And yet, as he ruffles my hair, I have a sudden wave of affection for him. It's one of those waves where you realize how precious a person is. I embrace him. He stumbles back, a bit surprised, and then returns the hug.
"You all right Marls? It's not…you know," He whispers in a hushed whisper. I did know, but I planned on making him say it.
"What are you talking about Mav?"
"Your…time of the month," He said even lower, as if even mentioning it would suggest something awful.
"No," I said, stifling a smile, "I'll just miss you at Hogwarts."
"All right," He chuckled, "I'll miss you too M&M."
I half heartily rolled my eyes at the name. My parents, either being obsessed over alliterations or the letter M, had named all of their six children with names beginning with M (leading to some unnecessary alliteration name bonding with Moaning Myrtle). We slowly walked to the large Mckinnon mansion, a nice brick home with three floors and a spacious attic.
Sometimes, the world works in strange ways. Twenty six years ago, if Avior Mckinnon's owl, Strix, had not injured his wing by flying into that window clumsily, Avior would have gotten his Hogwarts supply letter sooner and not been rushing into Diagon Alley. He would not have been blindly sprinting into Flourish and Blott's and run straight into Merriam Woodard, a cheerful but slightly timid muggle born seventh year Hufflepuff. He would not have knocked her over and caused her books to tumble into a puddle. He would not have offered to pay for her books and she would not have demanded for him to also buy her a drink as she was not having a good day either. They would not have talked, and they would not have eventually dated much to the chagrin of Avior's elitist pureblood parents, Meissa and Perseus Mckinnon. Given that Meissa and Perseus had died with their only son, the mansion was left to Avior. And so, we walked to the Mckinnon mansion, not very far from the Potter mansion and a few other pureblood family homes (who often went out of their way to avoid us blood traitors).
"We're back!" Maverick announced as we went through the door. What was previously a typical pureblood home filled with house elves, a large family tree that taunted them, hidden passages, and dark secrets, was totally transformed by Merriam Mckinnon, more commonly referred to as "Merry" since she was always happy. My mother possessed beautiful blonde hair and bright blue eyes, always filled with wonder. She had an artist's imagination and was cheerful in demeanor. She liked to dance and would often spontaneously drag one of my brother's to waltz with her whenever the radio played a song she liked. She particularly liked gardening, often found with her wide-brimmed hat shielding her face laboring over her flowers. She found beauty in everything. At times, she seemed a bit childish and at times she seemed more wise than anyone.
In a matter of days, she had transformed the gloomy Mckinnon mansion, into something bright. The walls were painted sunshine yellow. The dark wood was replaced with wood the color of honey. The house elves were freed. New furniture was put in, and although older, was more lived in and not as stiff. She had a perseverance that few people possessed.
She was, however, not a very good cook.
Which was really not a skill set necessary in a pre-dominantly male family where six of the eight family members would eat socks if they were buttered. But still, when I saw mum in the kitchen, my heart sped up a bit. It was, however, Marcell that was cooking and my mother simply sitting and sketching.
"Hullo Marley," My mother greeted me. "Good walk?"
"The best," I said as I sat near her. She returned this action with a smile and tucked a strand of my dark hair behind my ear.
"What? I don't get a greeting? Am I not worthy?" Marcell asked and I rolled my eyes.
"Hullo Marcell," I added with an eye roll and he hugged me with one arm as if I had been gone for two months instead of two hours. Marcell Mckinnon was, to place one word to it, a trouble maker. That's actually two words, but you get my drift. Marcell was a very typical boy. He was obsessed with Quidditch, rarely showered, and liked to always lighten the atmosphere with a bad joke or a fart (the latter I don't quite recommend you being around for). He was also a boy who had no respect for personal space or privacy. Henceforth, he had gone rummaging through my things and discovering a certain fact that I might fancy a certain someone. Causing the nickname "Mrs. Black" to follow me wherever I went through the house. But I wasn't going to swoon anymore at the thought of Sirius Black. Sirius Black was trouble. Honestly, my parents should do a better job of not pushing me into the arms of one of the school's biggest manwhores. Then again, if you look at my brothers collectively, they're probably not the best example of good parenting.
"You done your packing yet Marlene?" My mum said absentmindedly.
I cursed under my breath and Marcell raised an eyebrow while my mum briefly glanced upward.
"Language, Marlene," She added.
"Oh please mum, she's sixteen," Marcell added, although he was hardly a person to be giving parenting tips as a single bachelor in a Kiss the Chef apron.
"You should probably pack Marley," My mum added as she continued sketching, pencil lines forming across her paper.
"Or…" I added as I flung my hair up into a ponytail, "I could ask one of my oh so kind and clever and of age brothers to do a simple spell and whoop-de-doo, I'll be done for the day?" I suggested.
She shrugged, "As long as I don't get a letter from the Ministry."
(See this is why my brothers are allowed to act like gorillas. When my mum's in the middle of a project, she's totally blank about things going on around her)
"Marcell, oh so handsome Marcell?" I asked with a smile. He gestured to the frying pan he was currently holding.
"Oh yes, let me just cook and make you dinner at the same time. Will that be all Your Highness?"
I returned his statement with a scowl and stomped upstairs to find my other brothers. I peeked into Maddox's room.
"Hullo Mad," I said with a hopeful smile. He glanced up, his blue eyes confused.
"'Lo Marley, do you need something from my room?"
"Erm…yeah actually. You and your magnificent wand skills?" I ask pleadingly. He sighs and stands up to follow me.
Maddox is the second oldest and probably the most passive and quiet of our family. He was a Ravenclaw during his time in Hogwarts and now he works with Magical Law Enforcement. I know he wants to end up in Wizengamot one day. Maddox is very clever and logical. He's not one to really let his feelings direct his actions. For him, all the consequences have been calculated before he does something.
"So I haven't packed my bag yet…"
"Marley," He says exasperated, "You know Mum and Dad have been really lenient on you with…what happened," his Adam apple bobs as he swallows. He can't even say it. It's as if that entire memory, that entire situation has been prohibited to be spoken about, "but you've got to pull it together this year. You barely got into your NEWT classes this year."
"All right, save the lecture. I know, Dad's had this conversation with me before. No more old Marlene. Just a Lily Evans clone."
Maddox sighed, "That's not what I meant. Just…focus more. And write me if you have troubles with my study."
"Expect many letters."
"You make yourself sound much dumber than you are. You're good at a good lot of subjects."
"I don't need the self-esteem boost."
"You're brilliant at Transfiguration and DADA."
"Yeah, but that's about it. Except for Herbology and Care of Magical creatures and Divination, which are basically the easiest subjects. I'm rubbish at Charms and Potions," I added with a sigh and led Marcell into my cluttered room.
He let out a low whistle at the mess, "Were you hoping that I'd clean this all up for you?"
"Nah, I was hoping you'd pack my trunk with a nice swish of your wand? I put all the things I want to bring in that pile," I pointed to the huge mound of stuff. He sighed as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him, and worked some of his magic so that I was packed and ready.
"Thanks Mad," I grinned.
"Come on, you're my baby sister. And plus you have those big brown doe eyes. I'm at a total disadvantage," He added, pushing his spectacles up his nose.
"DINNER!" My mum calls out. We head downstairs and sit at our table. We're the last ones, which doesn't go un-noticed.
"Welcome slow pokes," Marcell adds with a grin, "Come join the party."
I sit down next to Maxwell, sticking out my tongue at Marcell.
"Maturity at its finest," Maverick comments with a condescending shake of his head. Maxwell snorts, "Oh and your stuffed dragon is definitely the epitome of maturity."
"I'll have you know that Mr. Flame is a priceless artifact."
Let's give a round of applause for the mighty Mckinnon family.
"Boys, let's eat dinner," My mum added as she spooned some mash potatoes onto her plate.
"Is Dad coming?" I asked.
"Held up at work," Mum replied with a sigh.
"Pass the green beans Max," I asked and he passed them dutifully.
Maxwell is the most ambitious of us. I wouldn't have been too surprised if he was a Slytherin. He ended up in Ravenclaw though. He's a bit like the opposite of Maddox, being very impulsive and danger seeking. He's currently training to be an Auror. There's a war coming on, if you don't know. But he's still being trained so they won't send him on missions yet. But Max is so impulsive, that it wouldn't be too much of a shock if he jumped into a duel with Voldemort himself. Max is something different. The world would be losing something it they lost Max. The world would be losing a lot if they lost any of my family.
The fireplace flickered with life as emerald green flames roared to life and my father stepped out, looking a bit bedraggled and tired but still happy.
"Hullo. Dinner looks delicious," He commented, and hung his coat before washing his hand and sitting down at the head of the table. Dinner was filled with pleasant conversation, a splash of teasing (all right a lot of teasing), and plenty of laughs. And in that moment, I wish that every day were like that. And in that moment I realized just how much I had. We might not have a house elf like the Potters, but we had each other. I had a family who loved me dearly, who protected me. And while happy moments might not last that long in a time of war, I was glad that there were still a few.
I headed back upstairs to spend my last night before I left to Hogwarts. There was that small feeling of dread that I had for homework and school and the grades that I'd have to pull up. But it was completely overwhelmed by the excitement that fluttered in my stomach with nervous energy. I lay down on my bed, thinking of what was in store for me with the coming year. My thoughts were interrupted with a knock against the window. I sat up quickly but relaxed my tense muscles when I saw it was simply my owl Godric. I opened the window and he fluttered to perch on my finger. I untied the letters he held.
"Two letters? Go rest Godric," I said as I fed him two treats and stroked his dark gray feathers, setting him in his cage where he looked at me sleepily before his eyes closed peacefully. The first letter was evidently Lily's, obvious from her very neat, sloping cursive.
Dear Marly,
It's Lily, if you couldn't tell. I'm prefect again this year! And no, that doesn't mean I'll let you use the prefect bath again this year. Amos Diggory very nearly reported us to Dumbledore. I still can't believe we didn't get any points taken off for that. Probably because you snogged him completely senseless (not judging. He is rather fit). Anyway nothing's happened much since the last time we wrote, which I remind you, was ages ago. Usually Severus and I would be spending time together, but now things have been a little more than awkward.
Has something happened to you over the summer? Normally I'd be getting letters from you about which guys you had flings with and which ones you'd like to snog or what parties your brothers have brought you to. Your last few letters have been a bit depressing. All you've done is talk about Quidditch, which I'll remind you again, I know very little about. You're also talking about the "War" a lot more. It's not actually a war yet, but it will be soon, I suppose. I don't understand it. It's all blood isn't it? It's the same red in purebloods that runs through the veins of muggles and muggle borns and half bloods alike. The only way for your blood to be impure is if you cut yourself and fall into a mud puddle. I never understood prejudices really. But then again I was always the Gryffindor girl with the Slytherin best friend.
Have you talked to James lately? I'm so used to him bombarding me with letters. I haven't gotten a single one. Has Merlin answered my prayers and actually killed him off?
You seem different lately. You're acting different. You don't seem as happy or as optimistic as usual. Aren't you the one who is usually making the jokes? We need to talk on the train.
Lots of Love,
Lily
If anyone could see through it, it would be Lily. Yes, so much had changed this summer. So much had hurt me and so much had wounded me that I would not be the same carefree girl who only cared about having fun. I folded the letter up and placed in the ever-growing pile of letters in my desk drawer before opening up the second letter. It was from Mary Macdonald.
'Lo Marls,
Remember me? It's your friend Mary Macdonald. You haven't written back in a couple of weeks so I just sent you a letter. I know I'll see you probably shortly after or before this letter gets to you, but I just wanted to see how you were doing. What's happened over your summer? You know all about mine, just working in the green grocer store with my parents. You should come visit in the winter sometime; it's really a lovely place. Our flat upstairs isn't too shabby either. I need to talk to you. Not Lily, although I'm sure her advice would be just fine. But in essence, you're probably the better person. I know you'll probably scoff at this. If you were here, you'd probably swear to protect me or something of the like. But I'm scared. I always thought Hogwarts was my safe haven, but now? Now everything has changed. You've said it before, there's a war coming. I'm going to be right in the middle as a muggle born. I've already been attacked by Mulciber. I can still hear his taunts echoing in my nightmares. He put the Imperius curse on me, remember? He was going to make myself do awful things. I shiver just thinking of what could've happened. Thank Merlin that Reginald Cattermole (the seventh year Hufflepuff prefect, in case you forgot) stopped it. Merlin Marls, it scares me a lot. I'm a pretty shoddy Gryffindor, aren't I? I'm scared Marls. I'm really scared. My parents barely know anything. I think they like it better to be in ignorant bliss. But honestly Marls, I'm terrified. Everything I've known has been flipped. We'll talk later, but your owl is looking a bit hungry and honestly with him being so big and all and me being so small, I'm not taking any chances.
Love,
Mary
I sighed and dropped that letter into the pile, which I quickly wrapped up with a piece of spare string and placed in my trunk. Mary Macdonald was scared. But the truth was, I was scared too. James Potter, my mate and neighbor, had once dubbed me the "Gryffindor Princess". The nickname had caught on and now a couple of blokes had come to calling me that. But it was given to me because he thought I was a true Gryffindor. Courageous in the face of danger and loyal even in the darkest times. He said I was a lioness, a person who faced every challenge with a snarl. But even lionesses feel fear sometimes. And even the most outgoing people are wounded and are never the same.
I prepared to bed and climbed into the covers for the last night I would spend at home. Sixth year was full of possibilities. I could feel it. But not all of them were good, and some of them were even dark.
(Custom)
It was tradition. And since my father's family was known for never giving up tradition, it seemed a bit fitting that my brothers did not give up tradition either. But in the same sense, I guess another adjective to describe my brothers would be mental, as in, they-should-probably-be-checked-into-St. Mungo's-soon-before-they-inflict-any-mental-disord er-related-incidents mental.
It was a simple tradition, not in the mechanics, but it was good, light-hearted fun. Frankly, I suppose that fun was just something we all needed right now. I may have complained about it, but inside I smiled. It started when I was eleven, the day before I went to Hogwarts. I was woken up by a bucket of ice water doused over my head. Over the years it grew more complicated as my brothers grew more logical. And so, as I woke up this morning, I was dimly aware that it was the first day of school and that some sort of item would be waking me up this morning. It was in fact, a huge system of pulleys and levers and toys set up to work in a sort of Ruth Goldberg machine, which sent a huge icy amount of water over my head.
"Your expression was priceless!" Marcell cheered exuberantly as he snapped a picture with the wizarding camera. Even my mother was there, a wide smile on her face, the sunlight streaming through the window casting a glow around her. I glared at my brothers, each of them with their own unique smiles.
Maverick had a half-smirk that had received many swoons back in his Hogwarts days. Maddox had a close-lipped smile, part condescending, part amused, as if he was wondering whether or not I had figured out the logistics of the prank he had taken a large part of. Marcell had his goofy wide grin on, still snapping pictures of my stern glare. Maxwell's expression was the most serious, but he still had a small smile, but his gaze was far away. And Manning…well Manning wasn't here today, and the mere thought caused my heart to wrench painfully.
My dad came into the doorway, noticed my drenched hair, and frowned a bit. "I missed it?" He asked, nearly pouting.
"No worries Dad, Marcell has a wonderful picture that will obviously be framed in the living room showing off M&M's glorious beauty," Marcell said as he reached out to ruffle my hair, which I batted away. He retreated with a low chuckle.
"I'm going to take a shower," I announced and went to the bathroom. The hot water was pounding against my skin. I half-hoped that it would wash all the memories of the summer away. All the sadness, all the impact. And yet, it didn't. I was still Marlene, the same old Marlene. And yet, I was a different Marlene. I was no longer the Marlene who would wear plunging necklines and roll her skirt up and spent half an hour on makeup alone. I was no longer the Marlene who liked to snog, who pushed away her studies, who drank a bit too much at parties.
She was gone.
And that fact scared me. As I climbed out the shower, I put on a nice white "peasant-style" blouse and dark denim trousers with a bit of a flare. According to my mum, who read Muggle fashion magazines with my grandmum, a Muggle designer named Yves St. Laurent had introduced peasant-style blouses in his line. Mum bought me a few of them for her and me. As mum called for everyone to get downstairs and in the car, I hopped on one foot as I tried to tug on a navy Converse sneaker. I hurried downstairs to grab a bit of breakfast and Marcell raised an eyebrow at the wet hair.
"I didn't know the look drowned rat was in."
"Prat."
"Do you want me to style your hair Marly?" My mother asked and I nodded as I cut up my fruit into small pieces.
With her fingers running through my long dark hair, I felt as if I was eleven again. Going to Kings Cross with my mother having done my hair. She placed a drying spell on it, heating up her wand, and wrapping strands of my hair around it. Marcell put a disgusted face on, as if personal hygiene was absolutely revolting to him, which considering how he smelled might have been partly accurate.
"I've missed doing your hair. What happened to my little girl? She's all grown up," My mother said fondly as she placed her long, elegant fingers underneath my chin.
"Yeah," I croaked, "Nearly seventeen."
"Always my little girl," She replied and continued curling. I bit my lip.
"You're all done," She replied and patted me on the back to send me to find a brother to apparate with.
"My lady?" Maverick joked as he extended my arm. I bit my lip to hide my laughter, and accepted his arm.
"Has someone got Godric? Her trunk?" My father asked around and two voices piped up, "All right, see you all in Kings Cross."
There were plenty of people who found that apparating was a pain and uncomfortable. I might have been one of the only few people who enjoyed the twisting sensation. It was like my tire-swing, but full of more possibilities. In that time where space and dimension did not exist, anything was possible. As my feet found the ground again, I was swept up again. Marcell and Maxwell swept me off until my stomach rested on both of their shoulders.
"Oi! Put me down!" I said between laughter.
"Not a chance," Marcell added. Maxwell added an agreeing low laugh. My family created quite a lot of attention, which meant that Marcell and Maxwell would have to put me down before crossing the barrier. They set me down with grins that would rival those of the Cheshire Cat. I wobbled on my feet for a few seconds, but eventually gained my balance.
We crossed the barrier each, and as I emerged from the brick, there was that familiar noise of the Hogwarts Express and the laughter and smiles. And even when I had spotted so familiar faces, I still couldn't help but wish that I could just stay home with my family.
My parents embraced me in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice tightening.
"It's over Marlene. There's still hope. It's not completely your fault."
"When you see him, tell him I'm sorry."
"We will. And you will have to write to us often. Anything you need, just ask us. We'll be sending you letters weekly."
I nodded, wiping away at the tears that had formed in my eyes. My brothers swarmed me and all hugged me together in a large circle. Me, being the shortest, practically disappeared. Despite everything, I couldn't help but grin.
"I know you're all lazy arses, but you have to all write to me. I love you all," I said as I wrapped myself around each of them. They all agreed.
"It's going to be a good year. I can sense it," My mum added.
"If I'm lucky," I said. And with one last wave, my hand clenched around the handle of the trunk, I boarded the train that would take me back home.
(10: 45 A.M. September 1st 1977)
As Lily Evans put it, the perfect compartment would contain your best mates, a few jokesters, and a handsome bloke. Unfortunately (or fortunately in this case), I was much too early to find a compartment with all my mates, and was left on my own. It was a nice compartment with enough seats for about eight people to lounge pretty comfortably. I dragged my luggage up and lay down on the bench. Eventually, after a few moments of failing to get any sleep, I groggily made my way to the Prefect's Compartment, in hopes of finding Lily or Remus or someone that I knew.
I had never been in the Prefect's Compartment, but now I wished I had been in there earlier. There were charmed cooled drinks on shelves, and I found myself suddenly thirsty. Kimberly Elliot, a Ravenclaw in my year, raised her thin eyebrows as I came into the Prefect's Compartment. I ignored other glares coming to me.
"Mckinnon," Kimberly said with a slightly cold edge, "Has Dumbledore finally lost all his marbles and made you a prefect?"
"No, he's still got a few marbles left, although I'm pretty sure a few were lost when he appointed you as prefect," I retorted back, "I know about that…thing," I said in a whisper. Her eyes grew large and she stammered before sitting down, a blush rising to her cheeks. I smirked to myself a bit. For a moment, the old Marlene had fluttered to life, and in the same second she had disappeared.
"Now what exactly do you have on Kimberly Elliot?" An amused voice came from behind me. I whirled around, and discovered Sirius Black lounging on a chair as if it was a throne. He was the same Sirius Black as last year, who held an air of superiority as if his mere presence was cause for celebration and adoration, a lack of respect for anything that said "authority", and an attitude that matched with a motorcycle, a cigarette, and a leather jacket. I cocked my head in surprise.
"Sirius Black…prefect? Impossible," I scoffed.
"Just an escort to the one and only Remus Lupin," He supplied, waving a hand in the air lazily, "And the Prefect Compartment has wonderful cool drinks. Now where'd you find all about Elliot's secrets?" He asked, a lazy smile crossing his handsome face.
"Oh, I honestly don't know anything about Kimberly Elliot's personal life, besides that she's a Ravenclaw gossip. But everyone has a secret they don't want anyone to tell."
"Clever, Princess."
"Excuse me?"
"As in that nickname James concocted up for you? Gryffindor Princess? It's fitting."
"Are you in any way implying that I'm a spoiled brat?"
"Take it as a compliment, I don't give them too freely."
"On the contrary…"
"Marlene?" Lily asked as she entered the compartment door.
Lily Evans was positively lovely. She had a personality that shrieked, "perfect" with looks to match. She was complex, sometimes not speaking for bits and retreating into her own head. She was a girl of opposites. Sometimes an introvert when she retreated into the library, and sometimes an extrovert when she helped other students. She was patient, and at the same time she lost her temper often. She was not a pessimist nor an optimist, but a bit of both.
"Hi Lily," I returned with a smile. She didn't return it. Her eyebrows were clenched in confusion and a bit of anger, and I had the impending sense that something had been upsetting her.
"What's wrong with everyone today?" Sirius asked as he took in Lily's angry face. She turned to glare at him.
"Nothing. Everything is fu-" She paused as she noticed she would get a bit more than a little attention for using language in the Prefect's Compartment, "Everything's fine. I suggest you two get out before the prefect meeting starts. I'll see you later," She supplied and with a raise of her head, she made her way to her seat next to Remus. I shrugged and stepped out of the compartment to make my way back to mine. Thankfully, Mary MacDonald and not a strange first year were sitting down in the compartment.
Today, Mary's hair was her natural light brown. Since third year, when she had perfected multiple hair charms, she changed her hair every month. It was a bit of a plea for attention, she had admitted to me. She had always felt as if she was in people's shadow, a wallflower. Despite her hair, she still clung to her shy tendencies. Mary talked quickly, as if she just wanted to get words out in order to go back to closing her mouth. She rarely got mad, instead she got frustrated. I had never known Mary to yell or shout.
Today, she looked a bit scared.
When I pushed open the compartment door, she flung herself at me, her slim arms wrapping around me.
"Hey Mary," I said as I hugged her back. "You all right?"
"Fine," She gasped out, "Just a bit on edge."
"Understandable," I added as I sat down on the seat across from her, stretching out my legs.
We sat in a blissful silence for a few minutes as the Hogwarts Express let out a few warning sounds. The compartment door slid open and Dorcas Meadowes stepped in. Mary, as the sight of her, pulled her legs closer to her and tried to scrunch farther away from Dorcas.
Dorcas Meadowes and I had been friends since we were nine, but enemies first. Dorcas' mum and mine had been friends in Hogwarts and had hoped that by pushing us together, we would relive their own friendship. Our first encounter had ended up with three broken China dolls and more than a few bruises. Eventually, seeing as we would constantly be brought together, we made peace and slowly formed a friendship. There was a fire in her blue eyes as she sat down fiercely next to me.
"And good morning to you too," I said.
"Shut it Mckinnon."
"Is nothing right with anyone anymore?" I said as I thought of Lily's angry face.
Mary opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it. Dorcas raised an eyebrow, "Something to say Macdonald?"
"No, nothing at all."
"What a surprise. Mary still hasn't grown a spine."
"Shush Dorcas, we get it. You're a raving bitch, but you can at least keep your mouth shut," Lily said as she opened the compartment door and slammed it hard, almost as if she wanted to shatter the glass.
"Something crawled up your bum and died?" Dorcas asked, an amused smile on her face at Lily's unpleasantness.
Lily returned the comment with a glare.
"Honestly Dorcas," Lily said, pronouncing the name sharply, "I could ask the same of you," She said fiercely through gritted teeth.
"All right you two," I said with a sigh, feeling like a mother between two quarreling siblings, "Dorcas, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything."
Lily scoffed, "Dorcas the mute. How relieving."
Dorcas opened her mouth to make a snappy retort but I shot her a look.
"Lily, honestly you could try to be a little nicer or at least explain what's got you into this mood."
She returned this statement by looking out the glass window, arms crossed, lips set in a stern line.
Dorcas scoffed, "I'm going to go find other, more interesting compartments."
Lily sniggered, "Marlene's your only friend."
Dorcas opened her mouth to retort, but found that Lily was in fact right. Instead she walked out the compartment slamming the door with enough force that I was sure the glass would've shattered.
"I'm going to sleep," Mary announced timidly, and Lily nodded wearily, pulling out her Charms book.
"I'm talking a walk," I announced after Lily had flipped through ten pages quickly with seemingly no purpose. The two nodded and Mary rested her head against the seat again.
Dorcas was leaning in the hallway.
"I hate your other friends," She commented as I leaned against the wall she was against.
"You hate everyone."
"I don't hate you."
"Name someone else."
She paused in her thinking, and then smiled a bit as if she had solved the world's greatest mystery, "I don't hate my mum."
"Sometimes," She added.
"Why do you hate everyone?"
She rolled her eyes in an exasperated fashion as if she was so tired of this question, "You can never trust people. I'm obligated to trust you because we've known each other for so long. Plus you're just…Marlene," She added.
"Well isn't this touching?" The compartment door that we were resting against slid open and James Potter's face showed through.
"Figures we'd be in front of their nosy group," Dorcas said.
"Nosy? Breathtakingly handsome, intelligent, strong, athletic…" James said as he listed the Marauders' characteristics.
"Let's not forget the great amount of modesty you possess. I'll see you later, I can't breathe with their egos taking up all the room," Dorcas said as she hurried down the train corridor.
"Lovely girl that Dorcas Meadowes."
"Be nice."
"Aren't I always?"
I smiled despite myself and embraced James.
"You prat, we live a block away from each other and you never made time for me."
He clucked, "Time runs both ways."
"You're constantly playing Quidditch."
"You could too! In fact you might actually need a bit of practice…" I elbowed him in the ribs.
"That's all right James, I deal with the insane Quidditch captain for the majority of the year. Summer's a break from him."
A few laughs came from the compartment and my eyes darted around James' tall frame to the inside of the compartment where the infamous Marauders were lounging around.
"Want to come in?" James asked and I shrugged, coming in and sitting on a bench next to Remus.
"Princess," Sirius Black greeted lazily as he lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips, blowing smoke easily as if it was second nature.
"Black," I returned, "Lupin, Peter."
They both nodded at me in acknowledgment.
"So how's Evans? Still raging? What'd you do now Prongs?" Sirius asked, in between smoking, an amused tone in his voice.
"James," Remus added exasperated, "What'd you do?"
"I didn't do anything! Whatever's crawled up that bird's bum isn't my fault!" James protested, raising his hands in justification. Peter's face fell as if he was expecting some great epic about James' misdoings and deeds.
"I'm sure you'd like to crawl up her-" an elbow in the ribs cut off Sirius' inappropriate train of thought from Remus.
I knew that James had admired Lily for a long time now. In the beginning, he liked pranking her more than he liked her, for she had a very irritable manner and got angered easily. Later, his feelings developed into what Lily dubbed, "false, disgusting puppy love." Now, his eyes did not even shine when we mentioned Lily. I had the assumption that he had given her up, just like everything that did not become putty in his bare hands.
(2:30 P.M. September 1st 1977)
I had returned to my compartment with Lily and Mary. Lily had calmed down considerably and was slowly becoming the Lily everyone knew and loved. Mary was awake, and we were passing around a considerable amount of candy from the trolley.
"Circe," I said absentmindedly as I threw the chocolate frog card into the middle where a pile was growing.
"Dumbledore," Lily supplied as she lay down on the long bench.
"Morgana," Mary says as she tossed it in.
After a few seconds of lethargic eating of chocolate frogs, I pipe up.
"So Lily, care to mention what got your knickers in a twist this morning?"
Lily's body tensed up but then she let out a resigning sigh.
"It was Severus."
This time, Mary and I both sat up.
"Oh Lils," Mary said as she scooted near her. I sat next to her, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"I thought he was going to apologize, but instead he just called me more names. I think he was trying to prove something to his friends."
Mary stiffened. She knew all about when Slytherins wanted to prove what they could do in front of their friends.
"It's all right though," Lily said, holding her head up, letting her long red locks tumble down her back, "I've given up hope for him."
I nodded solemnly, "It's for the best."
She snapped, "How do you know that? I don't see you friendly with any of the Slytherins? Or do you just assume? You know, everyone in Gryffindor just assumes the worst of Slytherins."
"I didn't mean it like that!" I cried out in my defense, "Just that he's hurt you so much it's better that you don't leave yourself in his friendship."
She bit her lip and then slowly nodded and wearily slumped down in her chair, "Yeah, you're right. Sorry I snapped at you."
"Here," I said as I handed her a piece of Honeydukes finest chocolate, "this'll make you feel better."
It was a lie though. If chocolate could make you feel better, could make you happy, I should've been about ten pounds heavier. Mary and Lily both shared knowing looks, as if they knew that this was not the truth. But of course they did, for we were teenagers and not children.
(6: 45 P.M. September 1st 1977)
There was a screaming. It was my screaming and it was so defeaning to my ears that I willed myself to stop, but I found that I couldn't. My throat was growing hoarse. A crowd was forming around us and I had a need to just run away, to tear through the crowd and leave behind everything. Slowly the screaming became a gargled cry and all I could do was let the tears fall into his hair. There was blood that covered my favorite white dress.
"Marlene! Marlene!"
"Marlene!" My eyes snapped open and Lily was looking down on me, hands on her hips.
"We're here. At Hogwarts," She supplied, as I looked dazed around my surroundings.
"Oh."
She looked at the uniform I had changed in, her eyebrows raising just the tiniest bit at the skirt that was just a few inches above the knee, the shirt that was buttoned up far more than it usually was, the makeup-less face. She seemed to remember her letter where she was going to talk to me on the train. The changes in me had not hit her until now.
"Later," She said finally, confirming the time that we'd talk. The thing about Lily was that she always believed that diplomacy was the answer. That by talking, things would get solved. But some things were beyond talking. Some things were too complicated, too muddled to unsolved just by letting out a string of words.
(7:15 P.M. September 1st 1977)
After nearly having to ride in a carriage with a few snobby Ravenclaws who turned their noses up at the sight of me when I opened the door, I eventually found an empty carriage and fell into it, lying down. It was not near bedtime, and yet a wave of exhaustion ran over me. The carriage door opened again, and I wearily opened my eyes to see Dorcas Meadowes entering.
"Off," She commanded and without even waiting for me to move my legs, she pushed them off of the bench and sat down without a second word.
To many, Dorcas Meadowes was an inexplicable bitch. To me, Dorcas Meadowes was a pureblood that hadn't learned how to let people in. Her mother was a good woman; my mum often spoke highly of her. However, like many pureblood marriages, her parents were forced into marriage and her father was less than a good person. He had beat Dorcas' mother for every misdeed Dorcas had done as a naïve child and later when she was only a toddler, he beat her too. Dorcas Meadowes did not know how to trust. If even her own father had turned against her, then petty teenagers who roamed the hallways of Hogwarts surely would. She had learned, that if she was not in control, that if she did not have power, she would get hurt. And so she had learned to always harness power and to always be commanding.
"Lovely to see you too," I said as I sat up and brushed my hair away from my face.
"It's always lovely to see me. Haven't you heard? I'm stunning," She said with a nonchalant straighten of her spin, a tilt of her chin, and a flip of her long blonde curls.
"I don't know why you always complain about the Marauders' egos, when yours is plenty big too," I added as I mocked her hair flip. She scowled and went back to looking out the window.
"Oh look, there's your little friend Macey and Daisy."
"There aren't any girls in Hogwarts named Macey or Daisy."
She shrugged, and I looked out the window to see Lily and Mary walking along the path.
Dorcas did it often. She did it purposely in a power play. If she forgot your name, you were unimportant and therefore irrelevant. She hadn't forgotten my name since we were nine.
"I really hate Flora," She commented.
"Flower names, clever Meadowes."
"Does she always have to pretend she's always perfect? Isn't that exhausting?"
"Lily's not perfect."
"Could've fooled the entire Hogwarts population. She's such a fucking cliché. Perfect smart bookworm who becomes prefect and then Head Girl. By the end of the year, I swear if she doesn't take down her perfection mask once, I'll make her."
"Doe…" I said, my voice taking a warning tone, "First off you're being unnecessarily mean. Second off, she would have no reason to pretend to be perfect. She's Lily Evans. She's charismatic, everyone loves her."
Dorcas raised a wary eyebrow, "Who says she doesn't have a reason to be perfect? Who says charisma isn't all part of the act? Everyone has a flaw, a secret they want to hide. You of all people know that," She added dryly. She sighed and for a second her own mask crumbled.
Dorcas Meadowes was a hypocrite for accusing Lily of wearing a mask. Dorcas Meadowes may have claimed that she was a "bitch of the highest bitchiness" when in reality she was a girl whose childhood was stolen, and therefore had her heart frozen.
(7:50 P.M. September 1st 1977)
It was now the seventh time a hungry growl had come from the Marauder's general direction and McGonagall had since developed a murderous gaze. I could see Dorcas rolling her eyes from the Ravenclaw table and Lily expressed her condescension similarly with a scowl as she began picking at her cuticles. Each time a low growl came from the table, Sirius was unable to contain his bark-like laughter, and each time McGonagall's glare grew sharper and the Slytherins eyed him with a hint of disgust. I turned my attention back to the Sorting Hat as "Wagner, Cora" was sorted into Gryffindor. I let out a whoop for good measure and the first year blushed as she sat down on the bench. Eventually, "Zinke, Avery" was sorted into Hufflepuff. Dumbledore stood up to make his speech, addressing the typical things, warning the first years and all students not to get into any trouble, a familiar twinkle in his eye as he raised his cup to the Marauders, who beamed with pride. They grinned lazily as if being recognized for their trouble-making ways was of the greatest honor.
"I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Dumbledore said as he gestured to a tall looming figure seated at the table. He had long stringy black hair, a face of angles, and eyes that were fit to kill that skimmed over the room. I shuddered as they grazed past me. His form dominated the table as he nodded at the recognition. "Professor Garwell."
"That position's cursed," Mary said as she leaned over to whisper to me. I thought it was a bit silly to believe in superstitions, but nodded anyway. It was true that he was our fourth Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to teach us.
"And now, please feel free to dig in," Dumbledore said concluding his short and simple speech, raising his glass again before sitting down.
(9:00 P.M. September 1st 1977)
Every welcome back feast ended this way. People felt warm, felt at home, felt a sense of belonging and fullness (and not just from food). I rubbed shoulders with Mary as we made our slow trickle out of the Great Hall towards our dorm. Lily had rushed ahead of us, having volunteered to lead the first years with Remus.
"Typical Lily," I thought, and my mind flashed back to Dorcas' words about Lily placing a mask of perfection over herself. What did Lily possibly have to hide?
"You all right?" Mary asked, shaking me out of my thoughts.
"Oh, yeah fine," I said with a shaky smile, "Weirdly exhausted though."
"We'll be at the dormitory soon," She offered with a comforting pat on my shoulder.
"Brill."
Eventually, we made our way up the stairs, grouped together with the other Gryffindors who were also heading to the dormitories.
The Marauders were standing in front of us and kept jostling each other, so much so that I was sure that one of them was going to tumble down and bring me down the stairs as well. Another surge of exhaustion ran over me and I gripped the banister tightly, my knuckles turning white. What was wrong with me? It was only 9:00 and on the first day of school, I was usually so energetic that I fell asleep around 3:00. I sucked in a deep breath and my grip tightened.
"Marly?" Mary's voice echoed in my head and my vision swam. Her voice was becoming more distant and I began to sway.
"Whoa Mckinnon," I heard a voice say and Sirius Black's arms were suddenly around my waist, "I know I'm charming and all, but honestly the saying 'sweeping someone off their feet' does not apply when the person is on a very tall flight of stairs."
"Here give her to me," I heard James command, and my weary body was placed in James' arms.
"Where are you going?" Peter asked.
"Pomfrey, where else? This isn't normal. People don't just pass out on the staircase, do they?" James snapped at Peter. Part of me could picture Peter wincing at the harsh rebuttal.
"I'm coming with," Mary said and her footsteps too sounded.
"No, you're not. Sorry Macdonald, but honestly I'm dropping her off at the Hospital Wing. Pomfrey won't let any one stay at this late of an hour. It's best if you just head up. Whispers sounded around us and I knew that we had gathered a crowd.
"Marls?" James asks as the whispers fell farther and farther away and his footsteps grew louder. I wanted to sleep.
"What James?" I croaked as I tried to get as comfortable as I could. I was so tired.
"Stay awake Marls. I have no idea what's wrong with you but I highly suspect that this is not a natural thing. Just stay awake. Listen to my voice."
"I don't want to. You're boring."
He chuckles, "Thanks for your honesty. Stay awake though Marlene."
I gave a murmur and then my eyelids finally shut, giving way to the immense exhaustion I felt.