School and Theme: Beauxbatons / The Three Broomsticks
Special rule: Incorporate the meaning of the colour purple in your story (Power)
Main prompt: 2. [Any Pairing] Sirius/Marlene
Additional prompts: 8. [First line] "Looking back, [s]he could not tell you how [s]he got here", 15. [Word] Drama
Year: 1
Word count: 3829 (10% leeway from 3500)
Rumour Has It
Looking back, she could not tell you how she got here.
She remembered rushing to the common room to grab a textbook, but that simple plan had quickly devolved into chaos.
A bang echoed to her left, and she spun around in time to witness the start of yet another duel—two third years firing poorly cast spells at one another, eyes flaming and faces twisted into snarls. No one rushed to stop them; everybody was already otherwise occupied.
Spells flew left and right, some more vicious than others. A Muggle brawl had broken out by the stairwell. Shouts and grunts rang out through the Gryffindor common room as students did their best to inflict as much pain on one another as they could manage.
"Watch yourself, Marlene," shouted Sirius Black as he vaulted over a couch and tackled her to the ground, saving her from a wayward curse.
The spell sailed through the spot where her head had been and struck the mirror above the fireplace. Glass shattered and fell to the floor, forcing students to dive and stumble out of the way.
Marlene watched, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, as the gilded frame teetered, one precarious sway after another before gravity dragged it down. She flinched as it crashed to the floor, but no one else paid it any mind. Almost no one else.
"That was close." Sirius panted and pushed himself onto his elbows to get a better look at the broken mirror. "Lucky I was—"
Marlene rolled onto him and pinned him to the ground. His head hit the floor, and he winced, but she didn't care. "What did you do?"
He struggled beneath her, but she held tight as he shouted, "I didn't do anything!"
"Don't bloody lie to me, Black. Whenever something happens, you're always in the middle of it. Now tell me what you did."
"It wasn't me!"
Something hit Marlene in the side hard enough to force the air from her lungs and push her away from Sirius. She fell hard and looked up to see Carole holding a pillow as though it were a sword.
"I can't believe you would do this to me," Carole snarled, teeth bared. "You know how I feel about Benjy."
Marlene stared up at her dorm mate and rubbed the arm she'd landed on. "Carole, I—"
"Don't play coy now." Angry tears welled in Carole's eyes. "Polly saw the two of you in the Quidditch stands. You were all over him."
"What?" But her brain quickly caught up with the accusation. "No. I would never—"
"Liar!" Carole rushed forward and raised the pillow over her head for another blow, but Sirius was faster.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Carole's arms and legs snapped together, and she fell to the ground, stiff as a board. Sirius sidestepped around her and held his hand out to Marlene. She only hesitated a moment, glancing from her dorm mate to the rest of the common room, before grabbing on to him.
He pulled her to her feet. "Do you believe me now?"
His eyes darted around the common room, wide and fever-bright. Sweat dampened his forehead, hair clinging to his skin. He looked just as panicked as she felt.
"I believe you," she muttered, and she started dragging him toward the portrait hole. "But if you didn't do this, who did?"
Sirius shook his head. "No idea. I've been in the library all day with Remus."
They both jumped to the side to avoid colliding with a chessboard that was thrown from across the room. "What about James and Peter?"
"Quidditch practise for James, and mandatory tutoring for Peter."
Two boys stumbled into their path, throwing punches at one another. The smaller boy's fist connected with the other one's nose, and Marlene registered a sickening crunch, a splattering of blood, and an enraged howl before both boys were swallowed by the heaving mass of fighting students.
Her and Sirius's gazes caught, and she said, "We need to get Professor McGonagall."
"Couldn't agree with you more."
They barely made it a couple more steps, though, when a fifth year jumped in front of them, his wand aimed at Sirius.
"Did you tell Abby that I wet the bed?" he shouted.
Sirius's eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth opened, but the fifth year wasn't waiting for an answer. He lunged at Sirius, jabbing his wand and screaming an incantation, but with one fell swoop, Sirius sent him flying with a Knockback Jinx.
Sirius seemed momentarily frozen, wand still raised, but quickly shook it off when Marlene asked, "Who was that?"
"No clue."
"So you didn't tell anyone that he wet the bed?" She wouldn't put it past him.
"I'm not twelve anymore," he said, looking indignant. "I can think of better rumours to spread about people."
She rolled her eyes but didn't comment.
The way to the portrait hole cleared, and they rushed toward it, practically diving through the opening.
Marlene's blood raced with adrenaline, and she bent double to catch her breath, but a whisper of fabric had her snapping upright. She and Sirius were not alone. Others stood huddled in the hallway, taking refuge as they cast fearful glances through the portrait hole and flinched away from the sounds of shouting and fighting.
Marlene frowned as she surveyed the small crowd. "What are you all doing here?"
Yaz, one of the sixth year prefects, stepped forward. "The torches at the end of the hall have gone out, and the Wand-Lighting Charm won't work."
Marlene looked down the hall at the pitch-black stain that extended from floor to ceiling. Sirius meanwhile had lit up the tip of his wand without any noticeable difficulty.
"The charm's working fine for me," he said.
"Try walking into the shadows," said Yaz, nodding to the end of the corridor.
Sirius shrugged and did as was suggested. The moment he stepped into the darkness, he disappeared as though a black curtain had closed behind him. Marlene's eyes widened, and she rushed forward but only got a couple of steps before Sirius cursed and stumbled back into sight.
Marlene ran to his side. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, fine," he said. He glared into the shadows, but the steel in his eyes couldn't hide the trembling of his hands. "My wand light went out the moment I stepped into the dark. I couldn't see a thing."
"We've all tried," said Yaz. She glanced back at the younger students and lowered her voice. "What's going on?"
Sirius twirled his wand between his fingers and continued to glower at the darkness. "We haven't figured that out yet."
As Sirius looked ahead, Marlene's gaze caught on the students behind them. "How come you guys aren't acting crazy?"
Yaz shrugged. "I figured it was maybe a virus of some kind. Like Bendii Syndrome from Star Trek. And this"—she nodded toward the wall of shadows—"is the castle's way of quarantining us."
Sirius frowned. "What's Star Trek?"
"It's…" Yaz began, but Sirius's attention had already left her. "Never mind."
"The castle wouldn't act like this if it were quarantining us," said Marlene. "It would use the staircases. This feels more like a spell."
Sirius's eyes widened. "Of course it's a spell!" He spun and gripped Marlene's arms. "This is a prank."
She narrowed her eyes on him. "I thought you said you weren't responsible."
He released her and turned back to face the dark as glee filled his gaze. "I'm not. Someone else did this. Someone who's trying to steal the Marauders' throne."
Yaz leaned in closer to Marlene, keeping a wary eye on Sirius as she whispered, "Marauders?"
"It's what he and his friends call themselves because they're dorks." The last word came out louder than the rest, and Sirius whirled on her.
"Take that back."
She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. "No. You know why? Because all I'm getting from this situation is that our housemates are attacking one another, and you now think it's all a game."
He stood tall and jutted his chin, but a flicker passed through his eyes. "No one's badly hurt."
"Yet."
His mouth opened, but he snapped it shut as another loud bang rang out from the common room. "We should find a way to get to Professor McGonagall."
"How?"
Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out a Muggle lighter.
Marlene eyed it, then him. "I didn't know you smoked."
"I don't." He flicked the lighter open, and a flame sprang to life. "It's for the aesthetic."
She sighed. No one could ever accuse Sirius of lacking dramatic flare. "Of course it is."
He stepped into the darkness, waited a moment, then popped his head out. "It's still lit. You coming?"
She nodded and turned to Yaz. "We'll be back as soon as possible. Can you keep an eye on the common room in the meantime and make sure no one does any serious damage?"
"I could manage that," said Yaz with a wavering smile. "Good luck."
Sirius's head had disappeared, but he'd stuck his hand out into the light. Marlene took it and stepped forward.
The darkness was absolute. She couldn't see the tip of her own nose, let alone anything else, and old fears prowled at the edge of her mind. Sirius shifted, no longer blocking the lighter he held in his free hand. The flame felt tiny and insignificant and did little to disperse the darkness, which clung to the hallway like a heavy cloak. The hairs on the back of Marlene's neck stood on end as the shadows crept around her, coming alive only to escape the dim light. Her imagination conjured up dark creatures lurking just beyond the firelight, and she edged closer to Sirius.
"Not scared of the dark, are you?" he asked. She couldn't see his face, but she was sure he was smirking down at her.
She elbowed him in the side but kept a firm hold on his hand. "Shut up."
His chuckle echoed oddly around the unseen space, and he started swinging their hands back and forth like a five-year-old at the park. "The dark only has power if you give it some—that's what James says. Your fear feeds it, so it's up to you to decide not to be afraid anymore."
"I didn't realise James ever talked about anything other than pranks, Quidditch, and Lily." She didn't mean it. James had repeatedly proven himself to be more than what met the eye, and she'd gone from tolerating him to liking him over the past six years. Sirius snorted, bumping his shoulder with hers, and she added more quietly, "You can't control fear."
"Not with that attitude you can't," he said, sounding even louder than usual.
She shook her head but dropped the matter—there was no arguing with blind optimism.
They walked slowly, one careful step after the next in case whoever had cast this spell had also set up boobytraps. Marlene's eyes steadily started adapting to the gloom, and her death-grip on Sirius's hand lessened.
"How come not everyone is infected?" she asked, her mind finally allowing itself to focus on something other than the shadows.
Sirius's arm jostled hers as he shrugged. "I wasn't in the common room when it started, so you tell me."
Marlene returned the shrug. "I only went in to grab a book. One minute everything was fine, then everyone went crazy, accusing people of one thing or another and starting fights and duels."
"What about during lunch?"
"I didn't go. The House-elves made Dorcas and me sandwiches. We've been studying outside all morning."
"You and Dorcas, huh?" he said, and Marlene's gaze snapped over to him, but he was little more than a disembodied hand holding a lighter. He carried on before she could think up a reply, "So whatever's happening, it's likely it started at lunchtime. Probably with a potion slipped into the pumpkin juice or something."
Marlene cleared her throat, forcing herself back on track and away from thoughts of her best friend whom she definitely was not attracted to. "You don't think it was a spell?"
"A spell affecting this many people? Seems unlikely. Plus, spells don't come with timers, but plenty of potions are slow-acting enough that the effects wouldn't have started up straight away."
She took his word for it—she wasn't about to argue the matter with someone who spent every free minute figuring out the best ways to inconvenience the greatest number of people.
"I hate this," she said as she stared out into the darkness.
There was nothing to see and nothing to orient herself by other than Sirius's hand. She had no idea how far they'd walked or where they were. Yet Sirius pulled her onward, walking with such confidence that she wanted to believe that he knew where they were going. But then again, since he did absolutely everything with confidence, she couldn't be sure.
"Whoever did this," she said, "they've got all the cards. All of the power in this situation is in their hands. All of the tricks, all of the advantages. And we're left"—she gestured all around them—"stumbling in the dark."
"It makes it more of a challenge."
Marlene stopped dead in her tracks, dragging Sirius to a halt along with her. "You still think this is all just a game."
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, McKinnon," he said, and he started walking again, pulling her along with him. "Everything's a game. That's how life works. Your problem is that you associate games with fun."
She didn't have a dictionary at hand, but she was pretty sure that games were defined by fun. Pointing that out, though, seemed unwise because Sirius's voice had dropped, and tension ran through his fingers as he held on to her. There was a story behind his words, but she got the feeling that she wasn't yet privy to it.
They fell into silence, and eventually, Marlene noticed that she could see the tip of her nose again. Slowly but surely, the blackness that surrounded them faded to grey before disappearing altogether. She stared around wide-eyed, taking in the light and colours, which had never looked so good. A sigh escaped her, and she ran a couple of metres, dragging Sirius along with her, putting some extra distance between them and the darkness.
"That's weird," said Sirius, staring back into the shadows.
"What is?"
He tore his gaze away and settled it on her. "It wasn't boobytrapped."
She furrowed her brow. "Should it have been?"
"If you're going to put in that much effort to stop people from leaving their common room, you wouldn't have just one safety measure, would you?" He glanced back over his shoulder. "I would have boobytrapped it."
"That's because you're a bad person," she said off-handedly, but her eyes darted down the path they'd come.
"True as that may be, this tells us something about our culprit." He grinned. "They're an amateur."
Marlene snorted, her mood lightening now that the darkness was no longer bearing down on her. "Or there was a boobytrap, but it was clever and discreet enough that neither of us have noticed it yet. Just because there weren't fireworks and an explosion doesn't mean that a trick wasn't played. Although I don't expect you to understand that."
"If you're suggesting that subtlety isn't my strong suit, there's no need. Remus has already beaten you to it today."
She cocked her brow at him as they started down the hall. "What did you do?"
"I was innocently stretching out my legs in front of me, and he accused me of instigating salacious activities."
Her eyebrows shot further toward her hairline. "You were playing footsie with your boyfriend in the library?"
"I was bored. Besides, you really expect me to believe that you and Dorcas were only studying?"
A blush burned her cheeks, and she stared intently ahead of her. "Yes."
"Studying outside on a nice day like this. Having a little picnic by the lake, just the two of you. You're right. That sounds totally platonic," he said.
Marlene pressed her lips together, and her gaze dropped to her feet. She did not have feelings for Dorcas, she reminded herself; they were just friends.
"For what it's worth," said Sirius, "I recommend dating someone of your own gender—there's less drama."
The tension building within her escaped in a guffaw. "Less drama? Just last night, you and Remus got into a fight because you spilt ink on his Transfiguration notes."
"But we only fight to make up. Because let me tell you—"
"I don't want to know." She had an inkling as to where his comment had been headed and nipping that in the bud was a must if she didn't want to struggle looking Remus in the eye for the remainder of the school year.
The door to Professor McGonagall's office stood at the end of the hall, and Marlene upped the pace before Sirius could resume the conversation. She knocked once, then again, but no one answered. She was about to raise her fist a third time when a head popped through the solid door.
She jumped back with a shout, her heart trying desperately to beat its way out of her chest as Peeves cackled manically and floated into the hallway.
"Did I give the little girl a fright?" Peeves asked, feigning concern even as his orange eyes mocked her.
She resisted the urge to hex the bloody poltergeist as Sirius stepped forward. "Peeves, where's Professor McGonagall?"
Peeves flipped onto his back and floated through the air as though he were lounging in a pool. "Not here."
"Could you tell us where she is?"
"I could do that, yes."
Sirius and Marlene waited, but Peeves remained quiet. Sirius sighed and said, "I'll set off a Dungbomb in Filch's office if you tell us where we can find Professor McGonagall."
Peeves grinned, showing off crooked yellow teeth. "Staff meeting in the Headmaster's office."
With that, he zoomed off, and Marlene turned to Sirius. "That's on the other side of the castle."
"We'd better get going then."
They headed down the corridor at a jog, which was unfortunate because Marlene was by no means naturally athletic and Hogwarts didn't offer many opportunities for her to improve her stamina. She huffed and panted, clutching her side as a stitch started stabbing away beneath her skin.
Sirius noticed her slowing down and pulled her to a stop. "You okay?"
That git hadn't even broken a sweat—constantly running away from trouble evidently had its advantages. "I'm fine. But maybe you should go ahead without me. I can wait for you here."
"And risk Carole catching up with you and bludgeoning you to death with a pillow?" he said lightly. "Come on, McKinnon, no one gets left behind."
She sighed, but Sirius kept tugging on her hand, so she got moving again only to stop abruptly a moment later.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered, ears peeled, trying to catch the sound of sniggering. Perhaps Peeves was following them, but the poltergeist wasn't one for doing things quietly—he and Sirius had that in common.
Sirius's eyebrows bunched together. "What?"
She stood very still and this time heard a slight shuffling to her left. Sirius heard it, too, and, as one, they spun and drew their wands, aiming at a dark alcove. An unnaturally dark alcove.
"Come out right now, or I will go in there and personally drag you out," Marlene warned.
A long moment passed, and Marlene lowered her wand, prepared to make good on her threat, but before she could, Severus Snape stepped out of the alcove, wand raised and pointed at Sirius.
Sirius didn't even flinch. "I should've known you were behind this."
"Behind what?" Snape asked smoothly, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes and a cruel twist to his lips.
As Sirius opened his mouth, Marlene saw their entire conversation playing out—the dramatic back-and-forth, the denials and accusations, name-callings and insults—and she didn't have the time for that. Dorcas was still waiting for her, after all. So she slammed into Snape and pinned him to the wall fast enough to catch him off guard. His wand clattered to the ground as his eyes widened, and she pressed her own wand against his throat.
"Tell us what you did and how to stop it. Now."
His eyes narrowed to slits, and his lips twisted into a snarl, but she pressed her wand a little bit harder and glared right back.
"A potion," he finally spat, "named Pheme's Concoction, after the Greek goddess of rumour and gossip. It makes the drinker think and say all kinds of things"—his gaze flicked to Sirius—"revealing their deepest, darkest secrets."
"That's a bit elaborate for your first-ever prank, isn't it?" Marlene asked. She'd heard about that potion, and even for someone with Snape's skill, it would be a challenge to brew.
Snape didn't even look at her. He merely threw a cold smile at Sirius. "Mediocrity isn't for everyone. Rumours and secrets have more power than most will ever admit." A mocking glint entered his eyes, one far cruller than Peeves could ever manage. "It's such a pity that Remus couldn't make it to lunch."
Sirius's face contorted, handsome features turning monstrous. "You little—"
"Sirius, not now," Marlene snapped. The boys could get back to their stupid rivalry later, but right now, she had bigger concerns. "How do we reverse the effects?"
"It should wear off soon," said Snape, but his gaze didn't leave Sirius.
Marlene slammed him harder against the wall. "How soon?"
Snape winced and tried to hide it by directing his glare at Marlene. "There's a vial in my pocket—an antidote. So long as you haven't broken it."
"Why do you have the cure in your pocket?" asked Sirius.
"Because when I realised that the intended target wasn't infected, I knew that I had to reverse the effects."
"Out of the goodness of your heart?"
"To avoid getting caught."
"Always a coward." Sirius reached into Snape's pocket and pulled out a large flask. He tugged Marlene away from the other boy but kept his wand at the ready as he threw Snape a look of pure loathing. "Piss off."
Snape glowered but didn't need telling twice.
Marlene watched him go. "Shouldn't we—"
"Let me worry about Snape." His gaze softened as he turned to her. "You have a not-date to get back to."
"I should stay and help you—"
But Sirius shook his head. "I'll take care of the antidote. You go."
Marlene hesitated before giving in to temptation. She whispered her thanks and turned to leave, but Sirius had one last thing to say.
"Hey, Marlene?" She turned back to him. "We've had enough drama for one day—maybe you should tell Dorcas how you feel."
A slow grin pulled at her features. "Maybe I will."