Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
She doesn't expect to find him there. Actually, she doesn't expect to find anyone on top of the Astronomy Tower at three o'clock in the morning.
He's smoking, and she wrinkles her nose at the strong scent. Common sense is telling her to just walk away, leave him to his brooding, but when has she ever listened to it?
So, she walks over to him, pokes him in the chest. "You know smoking can kill you, right?"
He looks at her, surprise briefly crossing his face, before his lips curl slightly upwards in amusement. "I'll keep that in mind."
She takes a step back, rolls her eyes, her dressing gown blowing slightly in the light breeze. "Don't be an arse."
He raises an eyebrow, takes a long drag of his cigarette, probably because he knows that it'll annoy her. "You said it, not me."
She gives him a level stare. "You're insufferable," she says, but there's no real heat in her words and he laughs.
"You're not the first person who's told me that," he says, adjusting his silver and green scarf, before nodding his head in the direction of the candle that she's holding. "You might want to blow that out. I would rather not be caught up here."
"No," she says, and she's not about to explain that the reason she's refusing to do so is because she's not the biggest fan of the dark. "I'll take my chances."
He gives a long sigh but doesn't push it. "Fine."
It's silent for a moment and she stares at him as he stares at the sky.
"What brings you out here?" she asks, nothing better to do. And she almost laughs because she's making polite conversation with a Slytherin. What would her dorm mates think of this?
He takes a moment to reply, obviously trying to pick the right words. "Couldn't sleep," he admits finally, and she finds herself nodding.
"Me too," she says, her eyes straying to his arm. She's sure there's a Dark Mark hiding under his robes, and this should bother her, it really should. But it doesn't. Because right now, they're not on different sides of a war. They're just a boy and a girl. Nothing more, nothing less.
As if knowing where she's looking, he suddenly turns away, stubs his cigarette out.
"Sorry," she blurts out quickly. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
He looks at her, expressionless before giving a one shoulder shrug. "You didn't. I have to head back to bed anyway."
She nods, strangely disappointed, then gives him a small smile. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime."
He gives her a look she can't place, then nods and says, "Yeah, maybe so."
He leaves and she's left with a warm feeling in her chest.
/
Not long after that, she runs into him again. This time in the library, pouring over books.
She sits across from him, opens one of her books. Though she can't put her finger on it, there's something about him that makes her want to continually seek him out.
"Are you stalking me?" he asks finally and she laughs, looking up from her book.
"This is a library," she points out. "I have every right to be here."
He gives her a suspicious glance that makes her look down to hide her smile. After a moment, she looks up and asks, "What are you working on?"
Sighing, he prattles off a name. "I don't understand it."
She pushes away her book, completely uninterested in it now. "I can help if you want."
He gives her a pained look before slowly nodding. "Fine, okay."
She stands up and smiles. "Astronomy Tower, three."
With those words, it's the beginning of something.
Of what though, nobody's quite sure.
/
So it begins. Sneaking out of their dorms, tutoring under candlelight and stars, than without warning, a friendship has been born.
One day, he asks, "Are we friends?"
What a strange question. She gives him a look that she hopes tells her thoughts. "I like to think we are."
He rolls over onto his stomach, puts his chin in his hands. "Are we?"
She rolls her eyes, reaches over and lightly taps the side of his head. "I'm your friend. I can't speak for you."
He frowns, knits his eyebrows together in concentration. "But why?"
She lets out a deep breath. "Why what?"
"Why are we friends?" he asks, tone something she can't place. She studies him for a moment, notices the worry lines that seem to be tattooed on his face, notices his tense position.
"Do you mean, why are we friends because you're a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor?" she says at last and he nods, reluctant.
She ponders this for a moment, inches closer to him, brushes her hand along his shoulder blade. She smells a musky scent of cigarette smoke and sweat. He flinches at her touch, and without meaning too, she echoes her earlier thoughts.
"I honestly don't know. But Houses, and loyalties don't matter when I'm with you. We're just Regulus and Marlene, nothing more and nothing less."
He stares at her before reaching out and brushing his hand across her arm. "You know, maybe in another life, we could have been something more."
She doesn't say anything, just offers him a smile.
"He misses you," she says finally, because this seems like a safer topic than other lives and romantic intentions.
"Who?" he asks and they both know who she means and she wants to call him out on it, she really does, but if he wants to play that game, she'll let him.
"Sirius," she drawls, picking at her fingernails with fake interest. "He misses you."
"Sure, he does," he scoffs and does she hear a faint trace of hope in his voice?
Perhaps.
"How do you know?" she returns. He looks away, and oh, she has him there. "You know, you should go talk to him."
He doesn't say anything for a while and she doesn't think he will but suddenly, he says, "Yeah, maybe I will."
She smiles, pushing away all their books so she can lay beside him. "Good boy."
He laughs before instantly becoming serious. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," she says without delay, even though she's not sure why she does trust a boy with a cracked smile and scars on his soul. But the fact remains that she does.
He pulls himself up, looks down at her, eyes meeting. "I'm going blow out the candle."
She swallows, swallows the question of how he knows that she's afraid of the darkness, swallows down fear, nods. "Okay," she whispers.
He reaches over, blows, and the candlelight flickers once, twice, and than they are trapped in darkness.
She reaches for his hand and clumsily, fingers are intertwined. And slowly, her heart slows down and her breathing becomes even once again.
A comfortable silence settles between them as she rests her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his own heart.
Yes, we could have been something in another life, she thinks. 'But, what we are in this life is good enough for me.'
/
Three months later, Regulus is dead and Marlene's dreams are filled with their nights spent on the Astronomy Tower.
She is haunted by cigarettes and candelight.