Marcia left the library hours later, having thought over what Remus Lupin had told her over and over, and still hadn't come to any definite conclusions on what she was to do. On one hand, she had just told someone who and what she was. That sort of disclosure came with the expectation, she imagined, to come forth and act the part. On the other hand, he had just told her that the process was unbearably unpleasant. If she had been sure she didn't want to get in touch with the owl inside of her before, this new information didn't change things.

And so, rather than reading or practicing for her lessons, Marcia sat and thought herself in circles. It wasn't until that evening, after leaving Great Hall, that Marcia saw anyone she had a mind to talk to. Julia had changed from her school uniform into a fashionable ensemble of cropped shirt and vest and a pair of bell bottom slacks and was heading out of Ravenclaw tower. "Marcia!" she exclaimed.

"Jules?"

A smile broadened Julia's face. "Oh, I'm so glad I ran into you. I was hoping you might come along before we went to the Three Broomsticks."

It was only then that Marcia saw that Julia wasn't alone. Jemma, a girl who had once been as thick with the other two as any three witches could be, stood just behand Julia.

"Hi, Marcia. Haven't seen much of you this term."

With her head still spinning with new information, Marcia put her hand to her temple and was about to say she was too tired, but Julia took her wrist and winked. "Come on, silly goose. We'll wait."

With that, Marcia found herself with no choice but to change and return to walk with her friends down to Hogsmead. The stores were alive with what was probably the last warm day of summer, and several older students had made good on their Friday evening to come down for a pint of butterbeer and a good time. Julia and Jemma walked arm in arm, but though Jemma had offered her other arm to Marcia, Marcia walked separately. The two chatted, and Marcia only listened with half an ear to their gossip.

They were half way to the Three Broomsticks when Marcia, who had by now fallen a little behind her friends, caught a glimpse of a familiar Griffindor. Remus was standing outside Honeydukes with a bag of chocolates. His back was turned, and he gestured at a shorter, blonde boy. Then, he stepped back in and Marcia lost sight of him as the door closed. When she turned to rejoin her friends, they had stopped walking and were facing her.

"Who was that?" asked Julia. There was a tone in her voice that indicated what she thought that boy might be. She had, it seemed, developed a flirtatious side of her that hadn't existed before the last summer. Marcia wasn't sure what she thought of it, yet.

She caught up with them and continued towards the front door, and held it for her friends. "Nothing, just someone I met in the library." Somebody like her. The thought of it was comforting, though he'd offered her no words of comfort, she'd realize later when she reflected on the encounter.

Julia let go of Jemma and went through, and led the three to some seats at the crowded bar. Marcia found herself standing until a wizard took it upon himself to move his cloak from the stool next to him. They each ordered a butterbeer, and Jemma and Julia turned in on one another so that Marcia would have had to have leaned in and forced her way into the conversation to be a part. Right now, she didn't have the energy. Instead, she took her butterbeer and turned around in her seat so she could look out the windows and watch the streets.

It all felt so natural and normal to her, she realized. Being human, drinking butterbeer, wearing heeled boots and hoop earrings. The news her parents had given her last summer had sounded so alarming because it didn't fit. It didn't feel true. She resigned herself, then, sipping her butterbeer with her friends, that what didn't bother her couldn't hurt her and what didn't hurt her couldn't bother her. That, she settled on with a touch of pride, was a riddle worthy of any sphynx.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marcia noticed Jemma, then. She had gotten up from her seat at the bar opposite Julia, and had struck up conversation with a young man, either an older student or someone who had recently graduated. She sighed and slumped lower in her seat.

"Hey, you look down." Without Jemma to talk to, Julia had refocused her attention back to Marcia. "What's up?" She nudged Marcia's arm, prompting the her to straighten and turn back around, placing her nearly empty cup on the bar.

Marcia shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing, really."

"You've seemed a little down since summer ended. Spending a lot of time in the library." She continued to stroke Marcia's arm.

"I happen to like the library."

"And we haven't really chatted about it."

"About what?" Marcia suddenly thought back into their last conversations, trying to find if she had neglected Julia, but came up short.

"About whatever it is that has you off in a corner most evenings."

Marcia sighed and tipped up the dregs of her butterbeer.

"Or don't tell me." Julia's voice had an edge to it now. "Look, I get it if you're having a rough time with something, but I want you to feel better and I want to help if I can, so can you please talk about it?" She was practically begging, and Julia felt ashamed to have kept it from her friend for so long.

She pushed her glass away from her and angled herself so she could face Julia. "Just some bad news from my folks this summer. Haven't been speaking with them very much since." Julia waited as Marcia mouthed a few false starts, then came out with, "They told me I'm adopted."

Julia's jaw dropped. She sputtered and scoffed. "You mean you didn't know?" Marcia stared and she felt her stomach fall out of her body, along with quite a bit of butterbeer she'd just consumed. "I mean, I didn't know for certain, but I had a feeling. You don't look like either of them." Julia continued staring. "You mean you really didn't know?"

Marcia shook her head.

"And you didn't…no wonder you've been in a mood. I thought you were still…" Julia glanced around at where Jemma was starting to sit close with that young wizard. "You know."

Marcia did. She hadn't known, however, that Julia had known about her and Jemma. Marcia had known, she thought as she looked back at their affair, that it wouldn't last with Jemma. She had known, and yet their fourteen year old brains were too addled to know any better. Well, Marcia's had been. Jemma seemed to have sorted herself out. Across the room, Jemma started to kiss the boy. "No, of course not," she said, quickly looking away. "Listen, would you mind if we took this outside? I'm sure someone would like our seats, and truth be told, I wasn't feeling too well when we left the castle." She tilted her head over at Jemma. "Besides, I think we've lost her."

"Of course." The two witches paid for their drinks and left the pub. They didn't walk directly back to the castle, but took the long way so they would have plenty of time to chat. After the noise inside died away a bit, Julia asked, "So, how do you feel about it?"

Marcia kicked a pebble down the road. "Honestly?" Julia smiled. "I feel a little betrayed. I feel like they should have told me sooner or not at all. One or the other." And then the feelings started to pour out. "Do you have any idea what it's like to know who you are one day and have that taken away from you the next? How that feels?"

"Of course I do. I was muggle-born."

In the heat of the moment, Marcia had forgotten that fact. "Well, that's about the size of it, then," she concluded. "I feel like I was lied to about myself and now I'm…just trying to figure stuff out with me and with them."

"I get it." Julia took Marcia's hand, and this time she allowed the contact.

Marcia wasn't sure if Julia did get it, but she liked to think she did, at least with this half. She squeezed Julia's hand back. The knot that had managed to work itself up loosened, and Marcia breathed a deep breath, and pushed her shoulders back. "Feels good to say it out loud."

"Good." Julia swung their arms as they walked a little farther. "You've been pretty off lately. It'll be nice to have you back."

Marcia turned to her and gave her an apologetic smile. "Have I really been that bad?"

"Yes, but I forgive you if you start spending more time with me…and if you maybe tell me what happened last year with Jemma. I'm dying to know." She squeezed Marcia's hand, sending a shiver of worry down Marcia's spine, until she realized that Julia was only talking about juicy gossip—she didn't know. She wouldn't want to know, probably.

The road came to an end. Marcia made to turn around, but Julia stayed standing still. She pointed out to a hill with a house on top. "You see that house over there?"

Marcia turned around, and stepped back. It was the haunted cottage, the shrieking shack, the site of a hundred grizzly tales which had scared her as a third year and still left her feeling uneasy. "Yeah."

"I heard a new story from Ernest." Julia grinned wickedly. She was going to tell it, Marcia realized, just to scare her. "It goes like this. Once upon a time, this land was covered with small farms and monasteries. All around us, they worked the land and every so often, the Vikings would come. One was worst of all, named Vlad the Grotesque." Julia started to speak with a creepy intonation to her voice. "He came up in his river boat and ordered his men and women—you know they had women warriors?—and they would shake down every farmer and they stormed the nunnery and killed every last devotee." Julia paused. "Then, when he was a rich old Viking, he settled down right here. Even when he died, his spirit still haunts the treasure, and he keeps the warriors as an army of infiri, all ready to strike if someone goes inside. Night after night, they scream their pain at being so long bound to this world."

Julia finished on a whisper, and Marcia thought she could hear the faint calling of the house beyond. As the sun set, the dark windows grew darker, and the shingles seemed to slope farther down in a menacing, makeshift sort of way. She pulled at Julia's hand, but Julia stayed put, grinning tauntingly at Marcia's discomfort. Then, she realized—the building couldn't be more than a hundred years old. "You twit!"

Julia laughed, even as Marcia shook her their hands free of one another and followed Marcia back down the path. Marcia wrapped her poncho around herself and shivered at the thought of it. "You totally believed me, just for a second there!"

"Git, getoff me."

"I'm glad you're back." Julia took Marcia's arm and prompted, "So. You were going to tell me about Jemma."

Marcia scoffed. "I don't think I owe you anything after that." However, there wasn't a bit of unkindness in her words. Julia had listened, and Julia had understood. That was enough.