Hullo! If you continued reading, YAY thank you for giving this a shot. I realised that I couldn't quite catagorise this piece into simply 2 genres, so be forewarned - it contains friendship, humour, romance and - gasp - angst.
I hope you like it anyway, I think it's a rather different take on them together.
xxxicls
Fifth year
She hates her name.
I first met 'Marlene' after she transferred into Hogwarts from Beauxbatons. I heard she had had her sorting done personally in Dumbledore's office, and in accordance to that, I had a new house-mate.
She wasn't French, which I had been disappointed with.
Why the hell would someone move into England when Voldemort's rise was becoming more imminent by the day, you ask. Her parents were actually British representatives in the French Ministry, trying to beef up international security and gain the French ministry's support in the fight against dark magic.
That's not important at the moment though.
The first time I saw her properly, I was in Transfiguration lesson. Of course, I didn't know any of these things about her, much less that she wasn't French.
The thing that struck me first about her was her hair. She had uncommonly curly, short, hair; the large curls wound around her ears and the nape of her neck. It, however, was a fairly neutral mouse-brown. She was average height, and had a lean, athletic build. All in all, she was quite an attractive bird. She slipped into the seat to me, much to my delight.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey," she echoed, turning around to look at me curiously.
Electric blue eyes.
"No French accent?" I sulked disappointedly.
She rolled her eyes.
I then winked at her, and seeming to lose interest, she returned her attention to McGonagall.
"Name's Sirius," I said quickly.
She turned round to look at me. "My name's Marlene. But if you call me that, I will kill you."
I chuckled, liking this girl already. "Then what do I call you?"
"Kinny," she said simply.
"Kinny it is," I agreed, humouring her.
15 minutes into McGonagall's tirade about Animagi – like I needed that bull, I was one, for crying out loud – I turned back to her.
"Why 'Kinny'?"
She laughed lightly, and I realised the sound appealed to me immensely. "My last name is McKinnon. I'm Marlene McKinnon. But you call me Kinny. Or Kin."
"I call you Kinny?"
"Do you have a problem, Sirius?"
What a woman.
"Absolutely not… Marlene."
I wondered where this would go.
As she turned away from me, ready to ignore me for the rest of class, I felt the strangest sensation spread over my legs. I looked at Kinny, but it seemed that she was completely focused on the lesson.
Paranoia, perhaps.
Disappointed that I was unable to get a rise out of her, I turned away and spent the rest of the lesson doodling.
After a very long half an hour, McGonagall dismissed us. I braced my hands against the table and tried to stand, but instead, flopped over the side of the chair, my legs folding beneath me like… jelly.
From where I lay, lying half on the chair, half on the floor, yelling indignantly, I spied Kinny leaving the classroom, her books gathered in her arms. Just before she exited the classroom, she caught my eye and winked.
Sneaky little minx and her jelly-legs jinx.
(hey look, that rhymed.)
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