Author's note: Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and you know I'm not J.K. because #transrights

Hogwarts: Assignment #4, Survival Skills Task #8 Write about someone sharing a meal.

Warnings: Grief; one-night-stand

Games Are All That's Left

I don't look for trouble

I do not accept blame

I've a good and a bad side

But they're one and the same

Ask me to arouse you

I will rise and obey

These are the games I play

o

I screw every morning

Then bathe and drink tea

I been playing canasta

Disastarously

All my recreation seems to suit me okay

These are the games I play

o

It's tough with love

Love's tough to show

Let me face the music

It's a song that I was waiting to hear so long

So long ago

—"The Games I Play," Falcettos

It was just bad timing, really, that Lily ran into whatever his name was as he left Marlene's flat and as Lily turned up with a container of what looked like cinnamon buns. Lily smiled politely and they waited until the curly-haired, well-built man got in the elevator and got off her floor before they talked.

"What are you doing here?" Marlene asked, tightening the black robe around herself. "Is everything alright?"

That was what their lives were like now; unexpected visits weren't nice, they possibly harkened awful news or terrible happenings.

"Yes," Lily said. "Of course, yes. Everything's fine, everyone's fine."

"Good," Marlene said. She shook her curls back and tried to think of how much make-up she'd been wearing last night and how disastrous her smokey eye might look in the morning. She probably looked alright. Her date had called her beautiful, but they tended to do that the morning after after Marlene did the things she'd done to him.

"I was just bringing you cinnamon buns," Lily said casually, as if she weren't holding the most beautiful looking cinnamon buns in the world. She was also looking pristine in a burgundy dress, studded with wildflowers, and a long grey cardigan. Her hair was pulled away from her face in the kind of practical French braids she'd almost exclusively worn since having Harry.

"Cinnamon buns?" Marlene asked.

"Cinnamon buns," Lily said. "You haven't been turning up for Sunday breakfasts as often anymore, and… well, I didn't want you to miss out when we made your favourite. There was sausage too, but the boys ate it all."

"That's sweet," Marlene said.

Lily nodded.

"Can I come in?" Lily asked.

And because Lily was as sweet as her cinnamon buns, Marlene couldn't say no. Luckily, the flat wasn't in as bad a state as it might have been. There were no obvious signs of debauchery and mayhem, aside from an overflowing ashtray, glasses of wine, and two empty bottles on the coffee table by the sofa.

Lily put the cinnamon buns down on the counter and rummaged through Marlene's cupboards to find two plates and some forks. She plated two of the cinnamon buns which were beautifully brown, dripping with homemade icing, and absolutely divine-looking.

"I'm not hungry," Marlene said. "I haven't had any coffee yet."

"I'll make coffee," Lily answered matter-of-factly, going back to the cupboards.

This was a particularly powerful iteration of Lily's inner mum friend, which was especially powerful as it was since she'd become a literal mother.

"You can't drink coffee," Marlene reminded her.

"I know," Lily said. "But you can and we're having breakfast together."

Marlene chewed on her lip and threw her hair back behind her shoulder.

"I don't want to talk about him," Marlene said. "About the bloke who just left…"

"Good, me neither," Lily said. "Besides, how far would we get? Do you even know his name?"

"Wow," Marlene said—even if Lily was right and she didn't remember his name at all. She didn't even try to recall it, because it didn't matter. He'd left his number on a scrap of paper by the fridge, maybe the name was there. That didn't matter either. "That was judgemental."

"I'm sorry," Lily said, wincing at her words. "I didn't mean it to be, I just…"

She was saved from finishing her sentence by the coffee maker making a jagged, awful sound. She startled and turned back to it.

"It's broken," Marlene said. "By the way."

It'd been broken for a few weeks now but Marlene had never been good at keeping house or fixing things. She didn't even know where in Muggle London one would go to get a Muggle coffee maker or the Muggle money necessary to purchase it. Again, that hadn't been her department but Dorcas's. So, she'd been jaywalking across the street to grab coffee from the tiny shop there. One of the baristas flirted with her regularly and sometimes she got free pastries out of it too, for being 'his favourite customer.' That probably wasn't worth mentioning to Lily.

"Oh," Lily said. "I'm sorry, I would have brought you coffee too."

She picked up the two plates and brought them to the kitchen table, smoothing down her dress as she sat down. She looked at Marlene so expectantly that Marlene sat across from her, though she had no intention of touching the (absolutely divine-looking) cinnamon bun before her.

Lily looked at her expectantly again and so she took a bite. Damn it, this woman had such a hold over her. She put her fork back down.

"Are you eating okay?" Lily asked, taking another bite of her cinnamon bun, big emerald green eyes inquisitive and concerned as they looked at Marlene.

"I'm alright," Marlene said.

"That wasn't the question," Lily said quietly. She looked at Marlene again with a look begging for answers.

"I remember to eat more often now," Marlene said. "There's a good Korean place down the street."

They knew her by name there too. The owner's wife punched in Marlene's typical order the second she saw her, now. She only waited half as long for her bibimbap, extra kimchi, as other customers might.

"That's good," Lily said, taking another bite.

"I'm doing better," Marlene said. "I'm doing fine. You don't have to agree with my methods for that to be true."

"You're right," Lily said. "And you should know that I don't care how many people you sleep with, I really don't. And for the record, I don't think that Dorcas would either."

"Alright," Marlene said, putting her fork down. "I don't want to end up talking about her every time I see you, Lily."

"I don't either," Lily said. Her eyes watered but her chin toughened with determination. "But she comes up every time because you're still hurting, doesn't she?"

"I'm not doing this because I'm—okay," Marlene said, pushing her plate away and crossing her arms. "I don't want to… how's Harry?"

"Harry's doing well," Lily said. "He's moved onto pushy pears as his favourite now. Maybe we gave him too many yams. You should come see him, he looks handsome in the sweater you got him."

"That's good," Marlene said. She had distracted Lily by asking about the baby; she was officially out of cards to play now. "I'm doing fine, Lily."

"Okay," Lily said. "You know I would love nothing more than to hear that."

"To hear that and believe me?" Marlene finished.

"You do this, Marlene," Lily said. "When you feel something too strongly, you rush into something that will make you feel too much of something else. It's why you borrow Sirius' motorbike and why you box and why you fly like a daredevil, but that doesn't last long and so I worry about the in-between times when you aren't drowning yourself."

"What the hell do you think you would be like if James dropped dead?" Marlene snapped. "If—if Voldemort himself showed up to finish the job and cornered her in a back alley and left her body crumpled on the ground as if it didn't matter?"

"I wouldn't be okay," Lily said. "I wouldn't be fine, which is why I don't think you're fine either and why I worry."

"Well, what would you?" Marlene asked. "Harry aside. Yeah, pretend you don't have Harry there to make the world feel a little bit okay. Pretend that you're alone when it happens, that you don't really have anything you care for half as much going on. Pretend that you have a job you hate and that you're tired of the war and so fucking terrified of losing someone else that Order meetings are practically torture. What would you do? Tell me what you'd do and if you give me some sort of an answer, then I'll be happy to take your advice."

"I don't have an answer," Lily said quietly.

"Exactly," Marlene said. "Exactly. All that's left, really, is to play games because what the fuck else could possibly matter? And if it matters, is it worth the risk that it'll vanish too?"

Lily pushed her plate away too.

"I don't have an answer," Lily repeated. "I just came to force feed you, to check in and keep you on your feet until maybe you find one."

Marlene's anger deflated and she took a deep breath.

"The cinnamon buns are really good," she said.

"Thank you," Lily said. "James is making jerk chicken and festivals tonight. One of Remus' blackberry pies is in the fridge. You should come by."

"Okay," Marlene said. "Okay, maybe I will."

"Okay," Lily said. She reached her hand across the table and Marlene took it, squeezing.

"You're important to me," Lily reminded her softly.

"You matter to me too," Marlene said. "I love you so much and I know how badly it'd hurt to lose you now. That's why… it's nice to play games or do things that don't matter sometimes."

"Okay," Lily said. She squeezed your hand. "But you matter to me, so I'll come bearing cinnamon buns every week if I have to."

"If you do, you should be prepared for some men and some women who aren't quite as fit as the one you saw today," Marlene said.

Lily laughed and squeezed Marlene's hand today.

WC: 1652