ELIXIR: A Harry Potter Universe Fanfiction
Twenty Eight. Complicated
By the following morning, Marlowe was anxious to see Caiti and apologize to her. He decided he had dreaded the moment long enough. It was time to fix it.
She was not at breakfast when he, Sean, and Evelyn arrived, but this was not unusual so he shoveled down his food much faster than was strictly necessary, and then sat drumming his fingers on his knees and the table with his eyes glued to the door.
It was Saturday morning, which Marlowe thought was a great sign. They would have all kinds of time to talk about it, and Evelyn had said that Caiti liked to talk about things. Everything was going to be fine. The sun was out. Easter was the following day.
And best of all, Evelyn's parents had just sent her a large package of muggle sweets, including Marlowe's favorite coconut and chocolate bar which Evelyn had already passed over to him.
She had just pulled out a couple of magazines from the bottom of the box and was reading over the cover stories with a frown on her face. "Oh good," she said, tapping one of the covers.
Sean peered over at the magazine to see what she was talking about.
"Taylor Swift has just had a break-up," she said. "That means she'll have a new album out soon."
This made Marlowe, who had a certain awareness of muggle pop-culture thanks to his mother, and who was also a little high on hope, burst out laughing. Evelyn grinned at him as she began loading things back into the box. Sean looked back and forth between the two of them; he had absolutely no idea what was going on.
"Did Evelyn O'Sullivan just make a joke?" asked Marlowe.
"Hey, I can be funny," she said, pouting.
"Well, let it out more often, then. Don't keep that stuff in," he said, still chuckling.
"Who's Taylor Swift?" asked Sean, who had continued to look politely puzzled through this whole exchange.
Evelyn opened her mouth in mock offense and punched him in the shoulder. "Sean!" she said. "She's a singer. I must have told you about her a hundred times."
"Well- how do you know then?" he asked Marlowe.
"I just spent a month with my muggle mother-" he began to say, but he stopped abruptly, because Caiti had just entered. He stood up and walked away from them. Caiti had done her hair in two french braids today, something he had always liked. When she saw him coming, her face hardened and she shoved past him when he tried to stop and talk to her.
"Wait!" he called. "Caiti, please. I don't want to fight with you. I just wanted to apologize."
She swiveled around and glared at him with narrowed eyes and tight lips. "Don't mock me," she said and she turned to go again.
"Caiti, please," he said again. "I'm sorry."
She let out a high, stilted laugh with a little jerk of her head, and said, "It's gonna take more than sorry."
It was only then that Marlowe had realized how much he had sounded like her only a few days ago, his words almost an exact copy. The hopeful bubble he'd been protecting himself in all morning popped.
He saw her sit down, not with Evelyn and Sean, but with Theo. His stomach twinged and he stalked out of the room, not sure if he felt more angry or anxious or just let down.
That afternoon, there was Quidditch practice. Marlowe had already been less than excited to go before the latest debacle with Caiti, and now he felt less motivated than ever. They'd missed two practices that week because of the full moon, a fact which had not helped Marlowe to cope with the fact that after the match against Hufflepuff, his quidditch career would be over for good. He no longer had any idea what he wanted to do after school, and even if he had had a backup plan, he was not holding out hopes that anyone would be keen on hiring him. Especially not after Mr. Fenwick's situation. The pity Marlowe had felt for him lately had developed into bitterness again.
He said very little to his team as they got ready, and became especially snappy and brooding when Theo did not respond to his directions. Theo appeased him - barely - with a curt nod, no eye contact. It was so like Theo to be like that. Petty and childish.
They headed out to the field and up in the air. Marlowe was finding himself in a worse mood by the minute. He took a few laps on his broom, hoping the fresh April air would clear his head. The air felt thick with hesitating rain, but clean and promising anyhow.
It almost worked to calm him, but then he saw Theo and Clara hovering side by side in midair - Clara, his partner, who he'd always liked and respected. They gave him a sidelong glance, the kind that made it impossible to miss that he was being talked about. He flew over to them far too quickly, and rocketed straight between them. "God, what are you doing?" Theo shouted, and Marlowe swiveled around to stare at them. Clara had had to roll over in midair to avoid a collision and was looking rather startled and windblown.
"Warm up!" Marlowe snapped. "Don't just sit there. Let's go."
He flew away again in a huff and he could actually feel everyone's eyes on his back.
A few minutes later he sent them in groups to start going through the drills and plays they'd all been working on for the last few weeks. He was so stirred up that every time someone faltered, he couldn't help but shout at them. As Marlowe was none too happy with him for gaining Caiti's attention when he couldn't get it himself, Theo got the worst of his bad attitude.
Hunting down the snitch, he blew past Elliot, accidentally knocking him sideways - nearly off his broom. The glasses he had only recently acquired tumbled down towards the quidditch pitch, and Elliot only barely managed to re-grip his broom in time to stay upright.
Elliot steadied himself, blinked a few times, and then burst out laughing, but Marlowe had already pelted towards Theo, near the ground now with the snitch in his hand. Marlowe couldn't see the humor.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped. "Coulda knocked him off his broom. Broken his glasses, haven't you? Almost killed him."
Theo recoiled slightly. "God, calm down," he said, wrinkling his nose. "You can fix his glasses. It's a first year spell, reparo. And anyway, he's fine. Look, he's laughing."
"Yeah, well he's also eleven. So just... don't." Marlowe started to rise up again, fuming.
"It wasn't on purpose! Stop acting like a-"
"Like a what?" asked Marlowe darkly. "What were you going to say?"
Theo set his face. "Like a jerk," he said loudly. "You've already broken Caiti. No need to mess with everyone else too." He turned and began to fly away, towards the ground and the locker room.
"Practice isn't over yet, you idiot! You can't leave!" shouted Marlowe, but Theo had just landed.
He stepped off his broom and bellowed "WHO CARES?! Maybe if you stopped yelling at everyone, we'd want to play, but no one wants to be here." He stormed away, turning one last time at the entrance to the pitch. He opened his palm and let the snitch fly out.
"You catch it," he yelled, and then he was gone. Marlowe hung in the air feeling stunned, and angry, and, somewhere deep down, a little ashamed. He glanced up at the rest of his team. One by one they began to fly down to the ground without looking at him and left the way Theo had, until only Sean was left.
He stopped about a dozen feet away from Marlowe and asked, "Are you alright?"
"Aren't you gonna leave, too?" he snapped.
"Only if you want me too," said Sean.
Marlowe didn't know what to say to this, because he didn't know what he wanted. He was embarrassed about how he'd acted, but he hadn't stopped feeling angry and hurt either.
"Wanna help me catch this snitch?" asked Sean. Marlowe shook his head, took a deep long breath, and then began to rise up again to look for it anyhow. Neither of them were seekers. It took a very long time to both locate and actually claim the little golden ball, but by the time they had finally locked it and the other balls back into the trunk and stowed it away, Marlowe was feeling marginally better. It had been good to have a task that kept his mind off everything. Seeking required perfect focus.
Feeling abashed but still just the tiniest bit proud of the team he had selected, he couldn't help but think that it really was something Theo had been able to catch it at all with Marlowe shouting at him the whole time. Shame crept in again and he began to wish Sean had not been so kind. Sometimes he was too good of a friend. It reminded him of Evelyn, the way Sean could continue to be so kind without letting him forget that he had messed up. Again.
They walked to the locker room in silence while Marlowe debated how to address everything he was thinking about. "Thanks for staying," he said finally.
"Don't worry about it," said Sean.
Marlowe was worrying about it though. "How come," he began, running a hand through his hair, "you aren't mad at me?"
"About Caiti," Sean clarified.
Marlowe swallowed hard and nodded.
Sean did not answer right away. They were walking towards the door of the locker room to head back up to the castle by the time he answered. "I know you didn't mean it," he said quietly.
This somehow made Marlowe feel worse rather than better. He was not sure what to say.
Sean opened the door and headed out first with Marlowe close behind, head low.
"Can I have a word?"
It was not Sean's voice. The speaker had an accent.
Marlowe looked up. Oscar was standing just past the entrance to the pitch. He had evidently been waiting for them outside the door. Or at least, for one of them. His eyes were on Sean.
"Uh... yeah," he said. "Yeah, alright. I'll-" He glanced to Marlowe. "Meet you upstairs," he said.
"Oh," said Marlowe. He took a few tentative steps past Sean and then turned around and backed up a few more. He stopped. "Okay. Well. See you."
Sean glanced at him, but didn't say anything else. He and Oscar turned and began to walk the other way and Marlowe was left to walk up to the castle alone.
"You are doing well?" Oscar asked once Marlowe was gone.
"Alright," said Sean. "You?"
Oscar nodded.
"So," said Sean. He and the other champions had really not spoken all that much. He felt uncomfortable, especially because the meeting had been sprung on him unexpectedly, and he was more than a little distracted by the events of that day's practice. "You wanted to talk about something?"
"You 'ave not 'eard anything about the tournament? The third task?"
Sean shook his head. His stomach plummeted to his feet. He had given the tournament next to no thought since the day of the second task, seeing as it had been vastly overshadowed by all the drama surrounding Marlowe's attack. At once, he regretted this oversight with wholehearted longing for two entire months which he should have spent worrying and wondering what was coming in this final hurdle.
"Neither 'ave I," said Oscar thoughtfully. He appeared much more calm than Sean felt, mildly agitated at most. "I 'ave talked to Eline and she 'as not 'eard anything either."
"Do you think they're planning to tell us?" asked Sean. They had been given next to nothing before each of the last tasks, but the little they had been told had at least given him a direction in which to focus his research.
"I am not sure," said Oscar. "There are still almost two months, but nothing 'as been said at all since the second task. No mention... and they are so much longer apart than the first two."
Sean nodded, staring at the ground. "Yeah," he said. "It's odd."
"Anyway," said Oscar. "If you 'aven't 'eard anything... "
"I haven't," said Sean.
"Yes, well. Have a good day, then." He began to go.
"Oscar," said Sean. He turned back. "I'll tell you. If I do."
Oscar nodded, lips quirking just slightly up. "I will do the same."
"Thanks," said Sean. He stuck his thumbs in his pockets, rocked back on his heels and looked down. When he looked up again, Oscar was still there.
"Your friend," he said, frowning. "He is back, then?"
Sean nodded.
"I'm sorry about what 'appened."
"Thanks," said Sean again.
"Well," said Oscar.
"See you," said Sean, after another awkward pause.
Oscar raised a hand in farewell and began to head back towards the Beauxbatons carriage. Sean stood there a minute before he left too, back to the castle. Between Marlowe's attitude and the daunting unknown of the third task, Sean couldn't decide what to worry about first.
When Marlowe arrived in the common room, the first thing he saw was the back of Caiti's head where she was sitting on the floor. Theo was with her, still in his quidditch robes. Neither of them looked up when he came in. Marlowe ducked his head down and took to the edge of the room on his way to his dorm, hoping he could sneak past them without a confrontation. Caiti would surely not be happy once Theo explained his version of what had happened in practice, as he was surely in the middle of doing. His eyes were narrowed and his cheeks flushed, hands gesturing wildly.
"I'm telling you Caiti," he said when Marlowe was in earshot. "You're lucky you got out when you did." Marlowe half dove into the stairwell, but he could not bring himself to keep heading up. Standing with his back against the wall two steps up, he was concealed but still able to listen in to their conversation. He wanted to hear Caiti's response, to gauge how upset she really was, though he was terrified of what she might say. "He's dangerous," Theo finished.
"No he's- he's- I- Theo," Caiti spluttered.
"I'm serious, Caiti. You should've seen him. Totally irrational. And he was shouting over little things so imagine something bigger."
"I'm sure there was more to it than that-"
"You don't have to make excuses for him, Caiti. You broke up. He doesn't deserve-"
This was news to Marlowe. Had she been telling people they were over? He felt an awful chill run over his whole body, numbing his face. He stared unblinking at the opposite wall until Caiti cut Theo off.
"We didn't break, up, Theo. And I don't plan on it. He's- he's- an idiot, and he really hurt me, and I'm not ready to forgive him yet, but you can't just say things like that about him. I'm hurt, okay? It doesn't mean I hate him. It doesn't mean he's a bad person." Her voice was shaking, but Marlowe felt more relaxed than he had all day. She was actually defending him, even after all the awful things he had said to her.
"Oh, come on Caiti," Theo said, half laughing. "He was a jerk to you and to me and to everyone else. How could you not hate him?"
Marlowe could practically hear her jaw drop open in the silence that followed. "I do not- I never- You know what, just drop it, Theo. I don't want to talk about this." He heard her slamming books shut and making a whole lot of ruckus as she prepared to go. "And for the record, this is why I did break up with you. You're always- judging people and jumping to conclusions," she said. "It's always all about you and your feelings. Life doesn't work that way. It's always more complicated than that."
And then she was walking towards where Marlowe was hidden and she caught a glimpse of someone in the stairs. She stopped and they looked at each other. She had angry tears in her eyes. He wanted to say something but no stroke of brilliance came to him. She bit down hard and turned on her heel to walk across the room and up the other staircase.
Still, Marlowe felt light. He was not sure yet how to get her to talk to him again, but hope was back. He would find a way soon.
He realized a short time later that all he had needed to say was thank you.
Caiti sat cross-legged on her bed with Edison cupped in her hands. She frowned deeply at him, not really seeing anything at all. She wasn't sure why she had snapped at Theo. She regretted being rude to him already. After all, he was her one option at mealtimes besides sitting with Sean and Evelyn who would, undoubtedly, sit with Marlowe. But he was driving her crazy lately. Always complaining about something or other, always quick to tell her all the reasons why he thought she should not be with Marlowe.
She had been reminded for the first time since they had begun talking regularly again why it had just not worked out. Theo was great most of the time, but when he wasn't, he was awful. There was very little in between. She hated to criticize him, even if only to herself, because he had been so, so good to her the past few months, but somewhere in that time, he had slipped back into old habits, old comfort zones. He had begun to treat her the way he had used to, like the only right way for her to do something was the way he would have her do it.
She flopped back against the pillows, knees up, and set Edison on her sternum where he began hopping around happily. His fuzzy, blue fur tickled.
She had given her relationship with Theo so little thought since the beginning of the school year, but so many things that Caiti had forgotten about in their absence had come rushing back in the last day or so. It had not been all bad of course. Theo had often been sweet and thoughtful and he never forgot when she told him something she liked, whether it was chocolate frogs or the color blue or the specific brand of self-inking quills she preferred.
But there were so many things she had overlooked for so long and shouldn't have that now seemed more apparent problems than they ever had while they were still together. How he had gotten short and irritable with her when she tried to joke around while he was doing homework, and how he used to take her graded homework out of her hands without asking and criticize her when she got a worse grade than he did, and how he teased her for her baby face when he knew she was self conscious about how round her cheeks were.
Oddly, more than fueling her anger towards Theo, it made her miss Marlowe. But she didn't miss the Marlowe that had returned at the beginning of March. She missed the Marlowe from before. The Marlowe that had stayed at the Yule Ball with her until two in the morning, and who had consistently asked her to kiss him almost daily for five and a half years, never once giving up on her, even during the brief period in which they had both been dating someone. And she missed his easy jokes and his bright smile and the way his teasing never felt cruel.
But that wasn't the Marlowe she had seen since he returned. There were shades of him, enough that she still believed he had not honestly changed, but was only hiding, only she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to wait for him to come out again.
Still when she thought about the things he had said to her, it stung. Her stomach bubbled with that acidic mixture of fear, embarrassment, and inadequacy - the sort of butterflies that did not make her want to smile. She certainly wasn't prepared to be on speaking terms with him yet. But it also calmed her to know that she knew that Theo had been wrong. She did not hate Marlowe. She did not want to break up with him. It was exactly two weeks ago that she had told Marlowe she loved him. She had meant it, and she still meant it now. It was like she had told Theo - things were always more complicated.
Her situation with Marlowe was perhaps the most twisted, tense, disorganized, complicated mess she had ever gotten herself into.
Saturday evening, Evelyn headed back down to the common room after she showered to find Sean. She wore another of his old, oversized t-shirts - this time advertising Fillibuster's Fireworks - and a pair of loose fitting purple shorts. She'd pulled her wet hair up into a bun so it wouldn't get her shirt too wet, but beads of excess water still dripped down the back of her neck every so often.
Sean sat exactly where she'd left him, at a table by the window, working his way through a review guide for Care of Magical Creatures. He was hunched over his parchment with his fingers pressed into his temples. When Evelyn reached him, she threaded her arms through the space his arms made between his head and the table and wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on the top of his head.
"Hey," he said dully.
"You look stressed," she said.
He let out a short breath through his nose that Evelyn knew was something of a sarcastic laugh.
"Tell me what's stressing you out," she said.
"Honestly," said Sean, "everything but you."
Evelyn smiled a tiny bit in spite of herself. She ducked her head down to press her forehead into the joint of his neck and shoulder and gave him a little squeeze, clasped hands resting against his collarbone.
"So list a couple things," she said. Her voice came out muffled against his shirt. Another drop of water fell off her hair and onto his shoulder so she started to unweave herself from around him and perched on the arm of his chair instead. She stacked her hands on her knees. Sean sat back and gave her a pointed look.
"Caiti. Marlowe. N.E.W.T.s. And the third task," he said, ticking each one off on his fingers.
"Well," said Evelyn. She placed one hand on the back of his neck and drew her fingernails lightly back and forth, curling and uncurling her fingers. "This is the first I've heard you mention the third task, so let's start there."
Sean stayed very still, eyes still locked on hers. "I ran into Oscar after practice," he said. Then he frowned like he'd thought better of something and added, "I mean, I guess I didn't run into him, he came to find me."
"Mmhmm," said Evelyn with her lips slightly pursed. She had found, through many years of being the listener, that it was often best not to say too much until it seemed like most of the story had come out.
"Well he wanted to talk about the third task. He asked if I'd heard anything, which I haven't. Obviously. And he said he and Eline hadn't either. But now like- it's two months away, and it's the last one, so it's probably the hardest, isn't it? And well, they've at least given us a vague direction for the last two tasks. Don't you think they'd have given us some kind of hint by now?"
Evelyn narrowed her eyes in thought. "Maybe the point is to see how you do with no preparation. Maybe it's supposed to be a surprise."
"Well I can answer that question without competing at all," said Sean.
"What question?"
"How well I would do without preparation."
Evelyn raised her eyebrows at him.
"The answer being not well at all," said Sean.
"Oh, don't put yourself down," she said with a flippant shake of her head. "You've hardly known a thing these past two times and you've done great."
"Yeah, well... I don't like surprises much," said Sean. "Only good ones, sometimes."
"I know," said Evelyn lightly. "You're a planner. So am I. But that doesn't mean you don't know how to act on the spot."
Sean looked away out the window. It was Evelyn's very favorite time of day - the post-dinner dusk when the sky was not quite dark, but not quite light, and no longer the bright blue of the afternoon but somewhere between purple and gray.
"You remember the day you asked me how I'd feel if you did something like- like what Marlowe did for Caiti?"
Evelyn did not answer verbally, but slid her hand to brush across his upper back now. She could feel the knots and tension without even digging into the muscle. Sean glanced back at her for confirmation. She gave one nod, and he turned to look out the window again.
"I keep thinking about that and wondering what I would do. Because I don't know if I'd- if I'd've done what he did." She knew now why he was not looking at her anymore. Sean did not usually have a problem with eye contact, except when he was admitting something about himself that he had come to believe was true, but probably wasn't.
"I just keep thinking," he continued, "that I'd've just frozen and- I don't know. I just don't think my instincts work that way."
Evelyn kept quiet for a minute while she considered what to say to this. "I don't think Marlowe would've guessed he'd do that, either," she said finally. "I think it was a surprise to him more than anyone."
She felt more than heard Sean's sigh, which was very soft, but perfectly visible in the sudden sagging of his shoulders.
"I don't know," he said. "I think Marlowe's always had more of- whatever that was than me."
"You know what? Let's not make this about Marlowe," she said. "We're supposed to be talking about the third task, and do you want to hear what I think?" She paused for all of one second, but she was not really waiting for his answer. "I'm going to tell you. I think that you are much better at spur of the moment decisions than you think you are and I'm going to give you one major example although I'm sure I could think of a lot more if you gave me some time. Quidditch."
Sean turned to her looking skeptical. He opened his mouth but she said, "Don't argue yet. Just think about it."
