A/N: Secret Santa gift fic for ANGEL (DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns)! I really hope you like this. Funnily enough, this first started as a Draco/Theo fic, then became Regulus/Marlene and here's where it is now… Hope you enjoy and have a very happy Christmas!
Title: indigo blue
Summary: Marlene is feeling blue, and she just can't seem to enjoy the Gryffindor Christmas party. Though perhaps some enchanted mistletoe and a certain Sirius Black might cheer her up...
WC: 2,576
Characters: Sirius B., Marlene M.
Genres: Romance, Angst, Humour
The music is pounding in the Gryffindor common room, on Christmas Eve. Of course it is. It wouldn't be Christmas if there wasn't a party. Marlene seriously doubts the fact that the couple of charms they cast around the common room are going to suffice.
But then again, Hogwarts is a magical castle, because, for some reason, the first three years of her time in Gryffindor, she never heard the faintest noise from the numerous parties Gryffindors have thrown. The castle probably puts up its own sound wards to let the ickle firsties sleep peacefully while they dream of sugar-plum fairies or whatever.
However, she knows very well that the castle definitely doesn't block out the noise for the professors, given the number of times the parties had to be broken up around 11PM when even Professor McGonagall decided that the House Cup celebrations should come to an end.
It's a little over midnight, right now, but she supposes they're turning a blind eye, though perhaps a deaf ear might be the better expression. Everybody needs a moment to decompress and celebrate nowadays. If you don't, you start thinking too hard about how celebrating Christmas in the middle of a war is simply ludicrous, and then things start to get ugly.
Because it simply is positively absurd; this festive cheer all around, this carol singing, this merry dining and whatever else should come at Christmas. People out there are dying, but Hogwarts is a little magical bubble no one bursts (because if they did, where would they hide from it all?). Lucidity and reason are not on the menu tonight.
Delirium and passion, on the other hand, are. At least, that's what Marlene thinks as she sees a bunch of her fellow Seventh Years bring out a new case of firewhisky, as she tries to ignore the furious make-out session happening on the couch in front of the fire, as her head rings from the heavy base line.
Marlene wants to scream at them, berate them for being so happy. But who is she to do that? Just because she can't slip into the mind-numbing false happiness Christmas creates? Just because she's apparently the only one who can be disgusted by this?
"Knut for your thoughts?" Sirius Black says, appearing at her side.
"They're probably worth less," she tells him, eyes still on the party. Then she adds: "Or much more."
"Being philosophical, are we?" he comments.
"You're drunk," is all she says, still not looking at him.
"Not yet," he tells her with a smirk.
She rolls her eyes, and her lips lift with a small smile.
"Prongs is, though," he tells her, as if it was helpful, as if she cared.
Though, of course she cares. Or at least she should. They are her friends, she should worry about them, or cheer them on, or basically just feel for them. James does look completely plastered as he spills his drink all over Lily's dress.
Maybe she does care a little, because that's her dress Lily is wearing. She likes that dress. Well, not really. It's a gift from her sister. Who is an Auror. And who is also currently missing. It looks better on Lily than her. Maybe she should just give it to her, as a Christmas present.
"He had better convince the elves to work that stain out of that dress. It's mine and I rather like it firewhisky-less."
He laughs. Of course he does. He's Sirius Black.
And that's another thing she just wants to scream at. Sirius Black, the living contradiction. First of all, his name. The most funniest thing about him is his name, and not his jokes. Okay, maybe not. But the most ironic thing about him is his name.
"Then why aren't you wearing it if you like it? There wouldn't be any firewhisky on it if you had." He gestures his hand to her own dress with his glass still in his hand. The liquid sloshes dangerously.
Serious Dark Wizard, you could translate it into, which is precisely what he is not. Nothing about him is or ever will be grave, solemn or sober. And though he is a Black, nothing will ever make him fight for the Dark side, nor will he ever cast a Dark spell. Well…
"Wouldn't be too sure about that," she tells him, taking his hand and steadying it. "But, it fits Lily better than me."
That's another contradiction. The events with Severus Snape speak for themselves. She doesn't like to think too much about that though. Or anything Gryffindor/Slytherin to be honest. It just reminds her of the war and how even impurities can slip into a bubble while no one is watching. She likes to close her eyes on that, which she guesses just makes her a bloody hypocrite.
"Well, I think what you're wearing fits you pretty nicely," he tells her, eyeing her up. Then, he adds with a smirk, "Though I suppose it would look pretty great off you too."
And that's the final contradiction with Sirius Black. He's all witty banter and innuendo and then sometimes he's not. He flirts with everyone, has a string of ex-girlfriends, may or may not have a relationship with Remus Lupin but then sometimes – just sometimes – it's like she's the only one in the world. It's probably not healthy, and it's probably he drives her crazy but she has a really stupid heart.
"Innuendo won't get you anywhere, Black," she says, shaking her head.
"Oh, really? It worked pretty well with Sa-"
"You don't want to finish that sentence," she warns.
"You're no fun at all, Mar-mar," he teases.
That's when she looks at him, and, as usual, it takes her off guard; the way his eyes are so dark you can see yourself in them. And then you don't know if he's just a reflection of yourself, or a distorted version, and how does he even see you?
"How do you want le to be fun? There's literally a war going on out there. Something everyone seems to be ignoring," she says bitterly.
"You really are no fun," he says, but the teasing tone is gone. There is a pause where he looks at her, and it's almost uncomfortable, Marlene has to resist the urge to look away. "Heard about your sister, I'm sorry."
Marlene bristles. "It's fine. Where did you hear that?"
"Oh, Mar-mar, I hear everything, I know everything," he tells her, and she knows he's back to his teasing self. She's glad.
"We both know that's far from true."
"Is so," he fires back.
She gives him an 'are you serious' look, and he replies with a look that says 'I'm always Sirius', which is just pathetic but it still makes her smile.
"Well, maybe not everything, but I do know the important drama and gossip that goes around in this school," he adds, and knocks back the last of the liquid in his cup.
"So my sister is just gossip, then?" she says coldly.
"What! No, no! Not at all!"
"Relax," she says with a laugh, "Just joking. But thank you."
"Wow, Marlene, I really need to teach you some better jokes if you think that's funny," he replies.
She rolls her eyes. "Do your best, Sirius."
"Well, for example: want to know something funny?"
"Go on."
"There's mistletoe above your heads," he says, nodding up.
Marlene looks up, too, and sure enough, there's mistletoe, which she hadn't noticed. Merlin, she must have been pathetic, under that mistletoe, all alone, as if waiting for someone to kiss her.
"Absolutely hilarious," she mutters.
"It gets better." He pauses, as if to muster suspense: "It's enchanted. You literally can't leave until you've kissed someone."
"Enchanted mistletoe," Marlene echoes. "Really?"
"Brand new from Zonko's," he specifies.
"And how would you know that?" she questions.
"I may or may not have bought it-" he starts.
"Let me guess, you also placed it here and hoped to get some entertainment out of it?"
"Well, I wouldn't say entertainment but perhaps-"
"And I suppose a quick peck on the cheek won't do?"
He grins. "Well, I could have put the 'Innocent Peck' setting, but I figured 'Supreme Snog Session' had a bit more pizazz to it. I am a sucker for alliteration."
"Technically, it would be sibilance for an 's' sound-"
"Sibilance, schmibilance," he intervenes.
"-and I can't believe you used the word 'pizazz' in a sentence."
"I once put it in an essay for Minnie," he tells her, looking rather smug, "She wasn't too happy about it."
Marlene laughs. "I don't even want to know under what circumstances you managed to write that."
He laughs with her. "But you know, that's not the funniest thing about this mistletoe."
"Then what is?" she asks.
"You're the only one under the mistletoe."
It takes a moment for her to realise what he means. But of course, it's only a very small sprig, and she literally can't move from where she is resting against the wall. "Oh, I get it."
"Do you?" he says with a smirk.
"I'll have to ask someone to kiss me, won't I?"
"It appears that is what you have to do," he says nodding his head, as if he hadn't completely considered it.
"And for matters of practicality, I should probably just ask the closest person next to me?"
"Sounds like a reasonable solution."
"And that person just so happens to be you," she deadpanned.
He looks at her with wide surprised eyes she knows are perfectly fake, but she is after all, rather amused. "Really? I hadn't noticed!"
"Right, I completely understand why this is funny," she says. Then, with a dramatic voice: "Oh, no! I'm stuck! Whatever will I do? I just need someone to kiss me!"
"What can I do to make things better?" he says, catching on quickly, and with a smirk.
"I suppose I should just ask someone to kiss me. How about-" She pauses, pretends to think: "Peter!"
She definitely doesn't want to kiss Peter, and has to repress and chill of disgust as his small figures scuttles over to them. But, if Sirius wants to play with her, she can very well play with him. The angry look Sirius shoots at Peter is enough to make her raise her eyebrows in amusement, especially as the ratty man scuttles away, intimidated by Sirius.
"It would appear your knight in shining armour has abandoned you," he tells her.
"Such a shame," she says, "I guess I'll just have to stay stuck here all evening. It's a real shame, I was having such fun."
"Marlene," he says, with a sigh.
"Oh, hello, Sirius. I hadn't noticed you there."
"Marlene."
"Are you waiting for me to ask you something? Because I'm waiting for you to ask me to ask you something."
"You expect me to do what?"
"Ask me to ask you," she states, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. Pride is clearly on the line here, and they both value it dearly.
"You're unbelievable."
"I believe the term is stubborn. And I will not bow down to your ego. It's far too inflated already."
He rolls his eyes with a smile. Marlene grins back at him. She loves the way she's twisted the situation, and it's no longer her who needs saving, but rather Sirius who came up with this whole masquerade just to kiss her. She guesses it makes he feel special, and even though it's cliché as hell, she doesn't particularly care, right in that moment.
The party's quietened down a bit. Some of the fourth years must have gone to bed. Lily must have sent them up. And the music isn't the loud pounding it was once. It's much softer now. Couples all around gently swat to the music. It's all supposed to be very romantic.
"I like your dress," he says suddenly.
"If you're trying to barter me into asking you, it's not working."
"No, no it's a very pretty dress, blue and all that."
"It's indigo."
"Like your eyes."
She laughs. "All right, it's getting rather pathetic now."
He ignores her. "And very smooth, what material is this?"
He's stepped closer to her, now. His arm is on her sleeve.
"It's silk," she states.
"Very nice."
And suddenly she's noticed what he's done. Okay, maybe he's a little too close to her than some society codes accept, but it just so happens that he's under the mistletoe too, and he's probably stuck too. With her. Under the mistletoe. Very smooth, very clever. Now no one has asked no one, and he's just discreetly slipped in. Though, of course, it's still her victory, because she never asked him to step in. She figures he's probably reasoning on his side that he's the one who has won for some obscure reason or another.
"I see," she says.
"Whatever are you seeing, Mar-mar?" he asks nonchalantly.
"Wouldn't you happen to be stuck too?"
"Possibly?" he replies with a smirk.
And suddenly they're kissing. It's heated, it's passionate. It's teeth clashing, and lips bruising. It's utterly Marlene and Sirius, and they're both more or less drunk. Because, yes, Marlene is a bloody hypocrite and she's had a glass or two, and he's she-doesn't-even-know-what and he's had more than a few and yet it's all absolutely okay and it's fierce and it burns and who knows any more.
What it is is definitely not perfect. But for some reason, Marlene forgets all about her sister who's missing, and the war that's raging, the fact that Hogwarts probably isn't the bubble she thinks it is, and all of her troubles. All she remembers is that it's Christmas Eve – or morning by now – and she's kissing Sirius fricking Black and that's that.
She understands why they all want to party, why they all want to forget and be happy. It's so much easier, and they all need something not to go mad, and keep a semblance of humanity.
The kiss ends, because all the best things do, but Marlene secretly hopes it's only the end of the kiss and not them, if there is a them, if there ever is a them. He looks at her with joyous eyes, and her reflection in them tell her she's smiling too, and maybe, just maybe the Christmas cheer has finally managed to creep into her while she wasn't looking.
"Supreme Snog Session, huh?" she says, and her grin reaches her eyes.
"Or something like that," he agrees, "Sibilance you know…"
"I guess I do." She pauses then says, "I don't suppose you've got more than one of these mistletoes hanging around?"
"Funnily enough, they're all over the castle. I may or may not have caught Snivellus and Trelawney under one yesterday," he tells her and adds, "That was something I never thought I'd see."
"Seriously?" she says with a laugh.
"I'm always Sirius."
"Spare me."
"I don't see why I should."
"How about if I told you I'd rather like to test those other mistletoes you've put up?"
"Pray tell?"
"And I think I'm going to need a couple of kisses if I want to get out from under all of them."
"Are you suggesting I help you out?"
"I guess so."
And they smile at each other, and it's Christmas morning, and for a moment or two or six, it's going to be okay.