Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 4—Round 9

Team: Holyhead Harpies
Position: Captain
Task: Incorporate a classic Disney animated film into your story (Peter Pan)

Word Count: 2,732

I didn't do a re-telling or an AU as such, but rather I used the sentiments of Peter Pan (and the song lyrics!) as inspiration—I hope that's okay. And thank you to my wonderful beta, Lizzie (TheNextFolchart)

The Boy Who Never Grew Up

You don't forget a boy like Sirius Black.

You don't forget the way his eyes crease up at the corners when he laughs or the way he lazily flicks his hair out of his face when an unexpected breeze tousles it. You don't forget the way he leans back in his chair, that casually charming grin plastered on a face that you know will be forever youthful, or the glimmer of mirth in his eye right before he winks at you. You just don't forget him.

But he forgets you.

Marlene's heart is pumping so wildly that she fears it will burst from her chest. And surely that would be a more preferable fate than the one I'm currently facing,she thinks. She would need a gallon of Felix Felicis to be lucky enough to escape this. In some twisted way, she's almost reassured that her heart can beat as wildly as it is; she hadn't felt it move like this since Sirius had left, and a part of her had been worried he'd taken it permanently. But well and truly, she still has a heart, there's no denying it.

Even if it is completely shattered.

Marlene whips her head to the side, realising she's completely alone. Her family had been with her only moments ago—her mother, father, brother, and sister—but there's no sign of them now. Perhaps their reflexes are quicker than Marlene's, their senses sharper. Perhaps they'd seen the signs before she had, read the situation correctly, and gotten out of harm's way. Perhaps they'd gone for help. Or perhaps, Marlene thinks grimly, they are already dead.

She grips her firm maple wand in her left hand—Sirius is left-handed, too, but she can't think of that now—as she turns to face her pursuers. She has no indication of the current state of her family, and she begs every higher power, from deep within her soul, to let them make it so safety. She knows already that she won't be awarded that same blessing. Not even close.

There's a whole swarm of them gliding towards her, eerily approaching in a way that resembles storm clouds rolling across the sky. Their wispy robes trail behind them. Their disturbing rattling breaths penetrate the air.

As the coldness seeps into Marlene's body, so too does the little happiness she has left seep out. She doesn't need the Dementors to feel depressed—she's hasn't felt a shred of happiness since Sirius left—but as they draw nearer, her body, her soul, her entire being is plunged into an iciness so haunting and draining that it requires every ounce of strength she still possesses to stop herself from crumpling to the floor.

She's trapped. She's been backed up into an alley, a dead end, and the only way out is straight through the approaching army of Dementors. Her emotions are too out of control to apparate—she'll splinch herself if she tries. But there's a chance—she has to believe that there's a chance—that she can survive this. She's not ready to sacrifice herself just yet. She's a Gryffindor, and if need be, she's going to die like a Gryffindor. With her head held high, fighting for her life.

Marlene forces herself to remain calm and remember what Sirius taught her.

Think of a wonderful thought

Any merry little thought

"Looking good, McKinnon!"

Marlene rolls her eyes, but she's smiling as she saunters down the length of the Gryffindor table, headed for the door.

"Why do you let him talk to you like that?" Lily Evans is walking beside her.

"What?" Marlene is smirking. "Why do I let him compliment me?"

Lily's expression is stony and her mouth tight-set. "Letting Black objectify you belittles not only yourself as a woman, but all women—"

"You don't seem to mind when Potter does it to you."

Lily looks affronted. "I don't let him speak to me like that! And I hate it when he does. I do mind."

"They're just immature, Lily." Marlene sighs. "It's only a bit of fun. They'll grow out of it eventually, and when they do, they'll treat us with the respect we deserve. But for now..." She tosses her hair over her shoulder and offers Sirius a departing flirtatious look (Lily scowls). He winks. "It's all good fun."

"You make it sound like you think we're going to…to end up with Potter and Black."

Marlene feigns innocence, revelling in the delight of Sirius' wink (and knowing he's watching her walk away). "Isn't that the plan?"

"Well," Lily says, "whatever you reckon might happen between you and Black, I certainly don't have any intentions to end up with Potter! I'd rather…hex myself."

Marlene smirks. "Of course. Whatever you say."

"I'm serious," Lily sys. "And anyway, you'd have to be Confounded to believe boys like that could ever grow up."

Marlene doesn't say anything. In some ways, she wishes Sirius would mature. She wishes he'd step up, commit, treat her how a lady wants to be treated. And yet part of her—arguably the more dominant part—hopes he never grows up. She wants him to stay the same wickedly flirtatious bad-boy she has come to adore.

She doesn't give him the satisfaction of turning around when he wolf-whistles, but her smirk has never been more profound.

"Expecto Patronum," Marlene says as she clings to the memory. A few silver wisps escape her wand, but it isn't enough. Of course it isn't. Why would a fifteen-year-old Sirius Black catcalling her in the Great Hall be nearly enough to conjure a Patronus?

The Dementors are drawing ever closer, and Marlene feels desperate. Something more personal, she fiercely orders herself, her wand-arm starting to tremble. Something much, much happier.

It's Christmas, and Sirius Black isn't going home. He pretends to take pride in the fact that he's been disowned by his family—that he ran away like some independent, reckless rebel—but Marlene knows better. She can see how young he is, how scared and how very desperate for a mother's affection—any affection, really—of which he has never known. But he'd never admit it And she'd never bring it up to him anyway.

"I think Lily's starting to thaw a bit."

"What?" Marlene snorts. She and Sirius are alone in one corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. It's the last night before the Hogwarts Express leaves and the Christmas holidays begin. People are enjoying the company of their friends, and nobody even notices the attractive young couple hidden away in the corner. Marlene is painfully aware of the mistletoe dangling directly above their heads.

"I'm telling you," Sirius says almost proudly, "she doesn't even roll her eyes when he approaches her anymore. She likes spending time with him—I've even seen her smile a couple of times. A real, genuine smile!"

Talk of James and Lily's huge romantic advances doesn't exactly thrill Marlene. "I guess he's really starting to grow up."

Sirius' eyes twinkle. "I don't see the appeal myself," he says. "Giving up a life of fun all for some girl."

Marlene winces. Sirius doesn't notice.

"I mean, Evans is hot, don't get me wrong—"

Marlene looks away from him to hide her scowl.

"—but is any girl really hot enough for a life of misery? Is it really worth it?"

"James Potter seems to think so."

"He's an idiot." Sirius says it with a light-hearted smile. He looks back to Marlene, casually leaning against the wall. "But I know how much Evans means to him."

"So"—Marlene clears her throat, trying to sound casual (hoping the desperation in her eyes isn't apparent to him)—"you… what? You're just not interested in dating?"

Sirius' mouth curls into a grin. "Oh, believe me, McKinnon, I am. Let me tell you—"

"I mean a commitment." Marlene says it a little too sharply. "A…a proper relationship." She can feel her cheeks burning. "With anyone," she adds quickly, hoping he doesn't think she's implying she wants to be in a relationship with him. "At all."

Sirius cocks his head like a dog. "Absolutely not," he says after surveying her for a while. "I can think of nothing less appealing. Except maybe kissing old Snivellus. Merlin's beard, no." He shakes his head. "I like spontaneity, McKinnon. I like snogging, and sneaking around, and getting up to no good in the broom cupboards with girls who want the same thing."

Marlene rolls her eyes unintentionally, and Sirius grins.

"You're not jealous, are you, McKinnon?" he teases.

Marlene sticks out her chin and raises her eyebrows. "I beg your pardon? Jealous? Jealous of what? Of whom? Those poor girls whose mouths have been invaded by your insatiable tongue?" She tries to convince herself that she only feels so hot because of the fire just behind them.

Something is glittering in Sirius' eye—something that Marlene doesn't trust. "Ah," he says. "Okay. So you wouldn't care if I were to do this?" He's taken a step towards her, and being already backed up into the corner, Marlene has no choice but to let him. He winds a hand into her loose blonde curls, fingertips expertly grazing her skin as he cradles her cheek.

Marlene is frozen, eyes flickering towards a face that is all too close. "N-no."

Sirius nods, still looking mischievous, almost like he's pleased with her response. Marlene realises he's quite literally got her in the palm of his hand.

"Not even if I tell you there's mistletoe directly above us?" Sirius asks in a low voice.

"I hadn't noticed."

"Liar."

There's no time for Marlene to respond because he's brought his mouth to hers, one hand still cradling her face as the other snakes around her waist and pulls her closer.

Marlene feels as light as air, like a phoenix is trying to burst from the depths of her stomach: heart soaring, skin tingling, caring not that she's in a room full of people who are potentially playing witness to this, or that she's one of a huge array of girls to have found herself kissing those lips. Sirius Black, in that moment, is kissing her, and she's quite possibly the happiest she's ever been.

"Expecto… Patronum…"

If possible, her second attempt is even more feeble than the first. Marlene's left hand shakes so much that she almost drops her wand. She wants to scream; she wants to cry out in despair. Because if her first kiss with Sirius isn't happy enough or strong enough to conjure a Patronus, then nothing is. No moment—not any of the other many snogs she'd shared with him since then—compares to that first.

Marlene sinks to her knees, feeling limp and lifeless. The Dementors are drawing ever nearer, their rattling breaths so loud now that even her screams can't drown them out. Her body is cold, her heart heavy, and she knows, truly, that this is the end.

Dementors force their victims to relive your most painful memory, but Marlene isn't prepared.

It's not just one, but many—a series of snapshots in quick succession, each more painful than the previous one.

She sees every girl he's ever been with who isn't her.

She sees every time she's kissed him, thinking maybe this time it would mean something deeper—tempt him into a commitment—only for him to wink at her and take his leave.

She sees him laughing, his face creased up in youthful mirth, surrounded by his three friends, and as of recent years, Lily Evans—like she's one of their own. But never Marlene. Oh, no, she always watches from afar, never quite included in their inner circle. Never quite enough.

She relives Lily and James' wedding, where she had so desperately hoped, given the combination of the loved-up, jovial atmosphere and the gallons of alcohol Sirius was consuming, he might finally be tempted by the idea of settling down. But the best man is a boy who, unlike his best friend, has not grown up. And though his recklessness and youthful playfulness is something Marlene deeply admires, this is the moment she realises he is never going to change. And something about that moment destroys her, even now.

She watches herself enrolling in the Order, fearful not for her own life, but for his. Fearful that one day, he won't return—something she knows she'll never be prepared for. How odd, to fear losing someone who isn't even hers to begin with.

And the most recent: she sees herself begging him to stay, sees him walking out anyway. The Potters are going into hiding, and he's following suit. Alone. Because, of course, she isn't enough.

Her wand is still in her hand, but Marlene is trembling so much, crumpled on the cold, hard ground, that she can barely even lift it. The Dementors are upon her. She wants to die. She wants to die.

And then, a voice so soft and personal that Marlene feels as though it's being whispered into her ear.

Think of the happiest things

It's the same as having wings

Sirius is behind her, steadying her wand hand, amused and impressed that she's left-handed just like he is. He's so steady, so warm, and Marlene feels no fear at all. Not that there's anything to fear—there are no actual Dementors during their little session, but she is so keen to learn how to do the Patronus Charm, and Sirius is more than happy to teach her, so they've decided to practise it anyway.

Marlene knows, when the time comes, it'll be much more difficult, much more draining. For one thing, she won't have Sirius behind her, steadying her arm, breathing softly into her ear. "The very happiest thing," he murmurs. "The happiest you've ever felt in your whole entire life."

But Marlene doesn't even need to imagine. Because she's not recalling her happiest memory; she's living it.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Something huge and silver and unexpected bursts from Marlene's wand tip, and she's so startled that she almost falls back to the ground. Her eyes widen in surprise, her mouth falls open. Her Patronus is powerful—nothing like she's ever seen before in practise. Up until then, it had only ever been a simple, silvery shield radiating from her wand.

But the Patronus that's chasing the Dementors away in that moment is nothing of the sort. For one thing, it's a dog. A great, big, silvery dog, charging at the Dementors, making Marlene feel lighter than air as she kneels on the ground watching it.

Feeling stronger than she has in months, both physically and emotionally, Marlene climbs to her feet, gripping her wand firmly. The Dementors are gone, chased away by her guardian—and then it, too, is gone.

Marlene cannot believe she's survived.

Laughter escapes her lips, and she feels invincible. She makes a quick plan. First, she must look for her family, make sure they're alive and well, or else re-conjure her flashy new Patronus and protect them herself. And then, she thinks, her heart skipping a beat, she's going to find Sirius.

She doesn't care. She's going to find him, she's going to tell him what she's done—that it was him—his teaching and the memory of him—that saved her life, and if that's not a sign that they're destined to be together then she doesn't know what is. She'll beg him if she has to. Beg him to see the light and ask him why, if James can grow up, why can't Sirius, too? Why can he not commit to the girl who's surely his soulmate, whether he really believes in that sort of thing or not?

Hasn't he realised how fragile life is? How rare it is to connect with someone on such a deep and personal level as they do?

And perhaps she's just optimistic because she feels so good in this moment, but something within Marlene knows that this time, he is going to say yes. She runs to the end of the alleyway, adrenaline and elation pumping through her veins. She turns the corner sharply before skidding to an abrupt halt.

Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' deranged cousin, is standing over the lifeless bodies of Marlene's family.

Marlene's heart skips a beat as Bellatrix grins and raises her wand. And then it never beats again.

The Valentine-Making Station Challenge (by TheNextFolchart):

Stickers:
Butterfly – Write about someone emotionally, mentally, and/or physically fragile
Cupid – Write about a love that is painful
Tulips – Write about a couple's first kiss

Ribbons:
Black – Write about Sirius
Red – Write about a Gryffindor