A/N: So, this one took a bit longer to get out, so sorry about that. Let me know what you think!

October 1978

If one had to choose a moment that set their life on a path for its final destination, it would be near impossible. For Marlene, however, the answer was simple. On what was supposed to be an ordinary week in the midst of the semester flourished the roots of the choices that would define her life. It began with a letter.

It was a Wednesday morning and the Great Hall was filled with drowsy students and the muted buzz of half-attempted conversation. She had the morning off as far as classes were concerned, but unfortunately an avalanche of homework as a by-product of the responsibilities of NEWTs prevented a lazy start to the day. As Marlene rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, a deafening rush of beating wings sounded overhead. She barely looked up as owls streamed through the rafters, choosing instead to nurse her lethargy in a cup of black coffee. As a yawn escaped her lips, a tightly rolled scroll fell onto her empty plate. A tawny owl circled a few times before coming to rest on the wooden table, hopping from foot to foot and clearly awaiting some sort of affection. Marlene recognised that owl. With a half smile, she stroked the creature's head and it hooted its appreciation before taking off once more. Turning her attention to the scroll, Marlene pulled apart the wax seal and unrolled it. A familiar flowery handwriting, in emerald green ink, bore a message:

"Marlene,

I know it's been too long since we last saw each other – and even since we last spoke. It's crazy how time seems to fly when there's no Transfiguration homework deadline and no Head Girl patrols (speaking of which, I hope the post is treating you well! I couldn't have hoped for a better successor).

This isn't a particularly fun letter to write, because I know how you feel about it. But we need you. And not just you, Marls. We need Mary and Dorcas. We need everyone.

The others didn't want me to do this, because they don't want you to feel pressured. It is, after all, your own decision. And I know it seems like a terrifying choice to make, and I know you feel like you're too young. I felt the same. I think I need to admit that my asking is motivated in part by selfishness. I feel like I've grown up so much since I graduated, and doing it without you has been terrifying.

Just let me know where you are, Marls. If you want, I can come to Hogsmeade some time for a chat.

All my love,

Lily

p.s. on a lighter note, I hope you like the invitation! It was, of course, made entirely by me. James doesn't know a thing about colour-ways."

From within the parchment fell a somehow unbent slip of square parchment; Marlene assumed some crafty magic had been used. It was cream with baby blue borders and swirling calligraphy bearing the names "LILY EVANS AND JAMES POTTER". A smile that somehow matured into a joyous laugh bubbled from Marlene's lips. If someone were to have bet her on the likelihood of Lily and James getting married not a year out of Hogwarts, Marlene would have lost all of her money. But she was happy for them. Exuberantly happy.

And, then, that happiness was curbed as she recalled the original intention of the letter. Marlene could not have been prouder of her friends for what they had committed to. She respected their bravery and their greatness, but she was scared. Not scared in the sense that she feared for her own safety. Rather, it was the safety of her family and friends that she had truly come to dread. Perhaps it was ill-placed superstition; perhaps it was merely bad luck. But Marlene blamed herself for the attack on Mary that fateful night. Had she not incited Mulciber's anger by denouncing his abuse of muggleborns the previous day, he may not have taken out said anger on Marlene's best friend to prove some sort of twisted point.

And then there was her family. Her brother and sister, twins, were only fifteen. What were they going to do if Marlene got herself involved in blatantly adversarial crowds? And her parents? Her mother was a muggleborn witch, and if they ever realised how much of her healing expertise she provided intentionally and specifically to muggleborns… Marlene shuddered. Perhaps she was being a coward. Was it still cowardice if it was for the benefit of another? Marlene supposed it was, as fear controlled her actions either way. Wasn't she supposed to be a Gryffindor?

With her mind heavy from what ifs, Marlene dragged herself to her feet, carefully depositing the invitation and the letter in the outside flap of her bag. Before she considered the fate of her own existence, Marlene first needed to turn her attention to a Potions essay with her name on it. And then, perhaps, she needed to work on her priorities.

"Is it true?" a voice demanded. Marlene glanced up from Advanced Potion Making, the book in which her nose had been buried for the last hour and a half. The library was quiet – it being the second month of term, and all –, but Marlene had escaped to its peaceful confines so that she could wrap her head around Golpallot's Third Law. Such a desire was proving to be fruitless.

Before her stood a fifth year clad in robes lined with blue. Her hair, like Marlene's, was a sprawl of unruly, half-formed curls; it, however, was cut short in a futile attempt at restraint. With arms folded across her chest and eyes filled with burning displeasure, Marlene realised there was no escaping what was about to escalate into a full-blown sibling quarrel.

"Well, hello, baby sister," Marlene said pleasantly, dog-earing her textbook and closing it carefully. "To what do I owe this clearly amicable visit?" Luella McKinnon spread her arms across the wooden table, lowering herself so she was able to hiss at her sister without drawing attention from the surrounding students. "Is it true?" she repeated. "About you and Rosier."

Marlene sighed. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific, sis. If you're talking about him being Head Boy, then –"

"No, I'm not talking about that," she snapped. "I'm talking about you and him. I overheard Iris Wilkes talking about it in Herbology. Apparently that Selwyn girl is heartbroken, and she's swearing vengeance."

Marlene looked blankly at her sister. "Look, Lu, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Luella was growing impatient now. She threw down her bag that was slung over her shoulder, scraped a chair back, and sat forcefully down upon it, looking obstinately expectant at her sister. Marlene spread her arms wide in a half-shrug. "If you're not going to tell me, then I – "

"Did you sleep with him?"

"What?!" Marlene exploded. A few heads jerked up from their books in surprise at the loud outburst, and somewhere amidst the sea of shelves came a hissed Shhhh!. The Gryffindor ignored this, of course, for her head was swimming with a terrible accusation.

"So, it's not true?"

"Of course it's not bloody well true, Luella!" Marlene was fuming to the point that her hands were actually shaking. At least the younger girl had the decency to look a little abashed. "Who's been saying this?"

There was hesitance is Luella's eyes, and something akin to sympathy. "Everyone, Marlene. Even Leo asked me if it was true. He didn't want to ask you himself, on account of it being a pretty… y'know, private subject." Oh, Merlin. The fact that her little brother was hearing rumours of her sordid affair long before she had herself… She was going to kill whoever was responsible. Marlene jumped abruptly to her feet and began shoving textbooks into her bag, her mind racing. If this is his idea of a joke…

"Marlene, wait! Your ink…!" Luella snatched away a loose inkpot before Marlene could shove it into the midst of her bag without screwing on its lid. "Look, maybe you should calm down before you…"

"No, I will not calm down. Not until I sort this out. I mean, seriously, do people not have anything better to do with their lives?" she retorted furiously, stuffing the last of her books away and doing up the clasp with clumsy fingers. "I'll see you later, Lu." And with that, Marlene stormed away. She barely noticed where her feet were taking her as she practically flew down corridors. Anger fuelling her path, Marlene barely avoided knocking a few years over the bannisters of the Grand Staircase.

As she arrived at the Great Hall – with less of a grand entrance than she had intended, for the doors were extremely heavy and didn't burst open quite the way she wanted –, her eyes formed daggers as she located her target. Rosier was splayed across one of the benches, elbows resting atop the table and chin resting atop steepled fingers. A congregation of Slytherins surrounded him. It was as though the rest of the world had melted away; in that moment, she was totally unaware of the scene she was about to cause, and how it would look for a Head Girl to beat the crap out of her fellow Head Prefect in the midst of a study session in the Great Hall. Marlene thundered towards him, becoming slowly aware of the heads that turned upon her arrival. As she approached the gang of idiots, a ripple of acknowledgement swept through them, followed by sniggers of mirth. Rosier grinned at her in that smug and unbearable way she had come to detest.

"McKinnon! To what do I owe this pleasure? I'm as surprised as you are, sweetheart. I didn't even realise you were at the top of my To Do list." A chorus of snickers emanated from the group. The way he spoke to her made her blood boil. Her fingers itched to whip out her wand and wipe that smirk off his face by force. This was most definitely a test in anger management.

"Rosier," she said through gritted teeth. "Can I talk to you? Outside?" With the encouragement of jeering from his gang of fools, Rosier climbed arrogantly to his feet. Marlene turned on heel and stormed off, hearing the footsteps of Rosier close behind.

"Are you kidding me?!" she hissed as soon as they were alone in the Entrance Hall. "Is this supposed to be funny?" Rosier chuckled, as if it was, indeed, supposed to be funny. "Calm down, McKinnon," he said infuriatingly pleasantly. "I actually don't know where this came from. Maybe someone read too much into our midnight patrols."

"Oh, shut up, Rosier," she snapped. "And don't play dumb. I want you to find whoever started this and put an end to it."

"For once, I am actually being honest."

Before Marlene could reply, a screech of rage cut through her concentration, resonating through the previously empty hall. Unbeknownst to Marlene, a few students had stopped to observe the confrontation between their Head Prefects, and even more halted in their tracks at the newest addition to the group. She was a tall, lithe girl whose pale caramel blonde hair swung in waves as she marched towards them. A heart-shaped face played host to bright round eyes, a perfectly proportioned nose and plump lips that were pressed together in tight fury.

"I knew it," the girl spat, eyes narrowed at Rosier.

"Look, Callista, whatever you've heard, I can tell you it's not true." Had this matter not involved her, Marlene might have found such an encounter to be amusing. Rosier looked uncomfortable – an emotion one would not normally associate with such a nonchalant person – and probably rightly so. Callista Selwyn looked as if she wanted to rip a hole in his chest.

"How long has this been going on?" she demanded.

Marlene held her hands up as she began to speak. "I can promise you – "

Before she could get the rest of her words out, a force like a punch to the stomach threw her backwards. The Hall was still ringing with the shriek of a Stupefy! as Marlene landed painfully on the stone floor. What had intended to be a stunning spell had only knocked the wind out of Marlene, who was able to jump furiously – albeit sorely – to her feet. "Put your wand away, Callista!"

A thick crowd had formed, now; it must have been exciting to watch the Head Girl duel with an angry sixth year, and Marlene knew that is exactly what it looked like. She had known that being partnered with Rosier would only lead to drama, and thus far her theory was proving correct.

Someone stepped from the crowd; he was tall and broad, and had the same striking eyes as Callista. Marlene often saw him spending time with Rosier and, before him, Mulciber and Snape. "Stop," Theodore Selwyn said calmly, focusing only on his sister.

She ignored him, and instead whirled on Marlene. "Why everyone keeps thinking you're worth their time is beyond me."

Before Marlene had time to reply, Theodore broke in, his voice sharper than before. "Cal." It was something akin to a warning. Marlene watched as he shot a meaningful look at Rosier, whose eyes betrayed no emotion as they blankly surveyed the irrational girl and her brother.

Ignoring him still, Callista trained her eyes on Marlene as a twisted smile spread across her pretty face. "I hope you like funerals."

"Callista." Theodore grabbed her by the arm and pulled her backwards. She snatched herself free, turned on heel, and fled in the general direction of the dungeons. Before Marlene could even process what had happened in that short encounter, there was a flurry of movement among the circle of on looking students. They, themselves, began to flee as a figure marched through the crowd. It was McGonagall. Her lips were pursed and her brow was furrowed. A sinking feeling clawed at the inside of Marlene's stomach as the stern eyes of Professor McGonagall surveyed the chaotic scene and finally came to rest on Marlene. Had she not known better, Marlene thought she might have spied what looked like a flash of pity beneath her square spectacles.

"Miss McKinnon. With me, please."

The sheer inequity of it all! Why did she not want to see Rosier, too? It was almost certainly his fault that Marlene was in this situation in the first place. Swallowing the outbreak of infuriation within, Marlene shot silent daggers at Rosier. She had expected him to look smug, as he often did when something worked in his favour. His face, however, remained blank. There was something in his eyes that unsettled Marlene. For a moment, they stared at one another; then McGonagall cleared her throat. Rosier swept from the Great Hall, following Callista into the dungeons, as Marlene turned and begrudgingly followed McGonagall up the stairs. Instead of marching Marlene to her office, however, McGonagall led her to an altogether unfamiliar office. She rapped her knuckles on the door and entered on invitation from a squeaky voice within. The office was a large room lined with bookshelves surrounding a large oak desk. A handful of portraits stirred lazily as Marlene stepped through the threshold, some shielding their eyes against the sunlight filtering in from the oval windows on the back wall. The newest Head of Ravenclaw House, Professor Flitwick, was stood atop a stool as they entered. He gestured kindly to an empty seat beside two other occupied ones. Two heads obscured by a mass of brown curls turned to face the newcomer – Marlene stared back at Luella and Leo, eyes wide with the same confusion that she saw reflected on her siblings' faces.

"What's going on?" Marlene said curiously.

"Miss McKinnon, if you could take a seat." McGonagall said as she joined Flitwick at the head of the table. She appeared to be uncomfortable. This was a sight Marlene was wholly unfamiliar with; normally, McGonagall was sharply barking orders or just simply emanating a sense of disproval. Once again, what appeared to be sympathy broke at the corners of her pursed lips. Marlene obeyed McGonagall's request and took a seat beside Leo. His chocolate coloured eyes were furrowed in confusion, and he looked at Marlene for what she assumed was an explanation. In response, Marlene merely shrugged.

"There is no easy way to say this," Flitwick said quietly, bowing his head. "There has been an incident. I am so truly sorry, but your parents are… they're gone."

Silence. Deafening, painstaking silence. All Marlene could hear was the sudden spike in her heart rate and her breath that was coming out in ragged spurts. She moved her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"They're – what? I don't understand." Leo's voice was hoarse. Beside her, Marlene noticed his fingernails digging into the arms of the chairs. His skin was white from the effort. She had the urge to cover his fingers with her own, but her brain didn't seem to be connected to her muscles.

There was a moment of silence; Marlene watched as both professors battled inwardly for what words to use. McGonagall cleared her throat. "They were killed. Neighbours contacted the Ministry when the Dark Mark was spotted over the house."

A tremendous, indescribable feeling erupted in the pit of Marlene's stomach. Her skin grew prickly hot, yet icy cold at the same time. She felt the colour drain out of her cheeks until she knew that only sheet white remained. There was a pain in her chest that she had never felt before: an overwhelming feeling of helplessness battling against the urge to scream until it made a difference. And yet she just sat there. She couldn't even focus on the two teachers in front of her because her eyes were swimming in a hazy mist; she couldn't even reach out her hand to console her siblings because it was too heavy to lift.

A sob shattered the hole into which Marlene had withdrawn herself. Feeling crept back into her limbs as her head snapped towards the source of the noise. Luella was sitting with her head in her hands, tears rolling freely onto the stone floor. Leo was watching her in a way that was similarly blank to Marlene's withdrawn state, but with a hand resting gently on her elbow. Marlene jumped to her feet and rushed to Luella's side, encircling her with her arms and pulling her little sister's head to her chest. For a while, the silence was broken only by the progressively louder moans from Luella. Slowly, Leo climbed to his feet and joined his sisters, wrapping his broad arms around the two of them. Sobs began to rack at his body and he buried his face in Marlene's hair as if to hide the shame of crying. Only Marlene remained dry-eyed. For what reason, she did not know. It felt as if the anguish she was feeling had absorbed all the tears in her body; it was replacing them with waves of both fury and absolute desolation. Emptiness. A soul-crushing emptiness that she did not know was possible.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Leo finally broke away. Marlene looked vacantly at her teachers, who were looking compassionately at the scene in front of them with both concern and sadness etched into their tired faces.

"It will be in the papers tomorrow," Flitwick cautioned. "We wanted you to know before the media…" Marlene bowed her head appreciatively.

"What will we do?" Leo's voice was still hoarse. He had returned to his seat and his tall body was hunched over under mountains of pain and sorrow. He looked so fragile.

"Marlene is of age. If you are happy with it, she can become your legal guardian. Whilst there was no Will found, Marlene will receive the McKinnon estate and fortune as per the inheritance laws." McGonagall looked at Marlene as if for validation. In response, Marlene opened her mouth and closed it again. Legal guardian? She didn't even know how to cook. This was too much to deal with.

"We will give you a moment," McGonagall said finally. "I am so very sorry for your loss. I truly am." After a moment of stillness, Flitwick and McGonagall withdrew from the office. McGonagall's words floated in the air, not quite registering with Marlene. What use were words now, anyway? What could they fix? The silence was broken by a fresh wave of sobs reverberating from deep within Luella. Her whole body shook with the anguish.

"It will be okay," Marlene whispered. They were the first words she had spoken since her world was destroyed, and they felt heavy on her lips. Her voice was weak, shaking and faltering with each syllable. The words were false. Leo stared blankly at her, knowing of her dishonesty and yet not having the strength or the willpower to challenge her. They all knew; they were far from okay.

Leo climbed shakily to his feet. Marlene didn't understand how he could have grown so quickly; he practically towered over her, now. And her heart broke all over again. How could she care for him? She needed to be cared for. Who was going to do that?

"Lu, let me take you back to your dormitory," Leo murmured. The youngest of the McKinnons stared wide-eyed at her older – if only by a minute – brother, skin marred by blotches of pink. He offered his hand and she grasped it as if she needed it to live, climbing unsteadily to her feet. Marlene wiped away the wet on Luella's hot cheeks with trembling fingertips, but the act merely provoked a fresh wave of sobs. Marlene felt so helpless in that moment. Within her, a pain was erupting that was so raw it felt as if her chest was being clawed at from the inside. And, yet, she would want that pain to last forever if only it meant that Luella's and Leo's would disappear.

As Leo began to lead Luella from the room, Marlene moved as if to intervene. Letting them go felt so wrong. They needed to be together in this moment. But every time Luella looked at her with an agony so raw in her eyes, Marlene wanted to escape and disappear forever. How could she fix that? When they were young and they stumbled and grazed their knee, their mother would pick them up and brush them down. She would tell them that tears didn't solve pain; only smiles could do that. And they would plaster tearful beams across their little faces, and somehow it worked. The pain would just disappear. Now, Marlene wasn't even sure she remembered how to smile.

"It's okay, Marls," Leo said gently, reacting to Marlene's helplessness. Still grasping Luella's hand tightly, he leant over and pressed his lips comfortingly against Marlene's cheek. "I'll look after her. Go get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

Father would be so proud of him, Marlene thought desolately as she watched the door close behind her siblings. And that was it. Perhaps it was being alone for the first time, or perhaps it was the suddenly relentless bombardment of childhood memories that tore at her brain. Whatever it was, it had broken the shield. Tears fell thick and fast; they began silently but ultimately burst from her body in an unstoppable wave of violent shaking and weeping. It took minutes before Marlene was able to suppress the sobs, gulping hungrily at the air between judders from her body.

She took a moment to compose herself – smear furiously at the tears beneath her eyes, gracelessly wipe at her nose with the sleeve of her robes, and run her fingers through her hair as if that would fix everything – before leaving the office. It surprised her for a moment that the outside world hadn't simply frozen in place. As she walked the halls, students passed her as if they didn't know what had happened. And of course they didn't. But how could something that tore at every fibre of Marlene's being not at least be recognised by the strangers passing her in the corridors?

Despite having set course for the Gryffindor Common Room, something nagged at Marlene that made her change her route. A feeling of unease crawled across her skin. Something pressed at her mind, begging her to recall something. And then, like a dark cloud, the memory descended heavily. I hope you like funerals. Her feet pounded on the stone beneath them as the words flew about her brain. I hope you like funerals. She knew. Callista knew because someone had planned it. Selwyn. Marlene's mother had told her about him. About the boy who terrorised the students of Hogwarts in her days. Who had taken a special interest in the young muggleborn girl who ended up marrying a pureblood. They knew. Their family knew.

She was flying through the corridors now. A fury that scared even her was pulsing through Marlene's veins. The door to the owlry flew open as she threw her weight behind it, sending a group of nearby owls into a frenzied panic. Marlene ripped out Lily's letter from the depths of her bag and turned it onto its back, snatched a quill from her bag and drowned it in ink.

"I'm in."

Two words. She scratched them into the parchment, no explanation warranted. She tied it to the nearest free owl and sent it soaring into the dusky sky. As she watched it shrink into the distance, she heard the thumping of her heart in time to the beating of the bird's wings. And with every thump and with every beat she heard each word pounding in her brain. I hope you like funerals.