A/N: Yay, Marlene! So um. I don't know where this one came from either, really. But it was fun to write (: I hope y'all enjoy~

CHARACTER: Marlene McKinnon

YEAR: 6th/1976

PLACE: Gryffindor Common Room

WORDS: 652

Potter's Problem with This Particular Party

Marlene decides Lily is a fun drunk.

"Ha!" her friend shouts. She is in Caradoc Dearborn's lap, one arm around his shoulders, the other held out with a half-full glass of firewhisky, Marlene's drink of choice. Dearborn has an arm wrapped around her waist and the other resting lazily on the back of the couch.

She doesn't much like Dearborn, mostly because she wants James to win Lily over, partly because he's the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain and a rubbish strategist against Slytherin's team.

Marlene scans the room. The Gryffindor parties are always the best, and the prefects make sure third years and below stay in their dorms. Slytherins are never invited, but many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in her year go. Probably because it's "the Marauders" who throw them. (Sirius still won't tell her where they got the name from.)

The Marauders are in a corner with a larger group, mostly boys. Peter and Sirius are using grand hand gestures to describe something or other. Remus looks as uncomfortable as always. His friends got him drunk once in fourth year. He was a lot like Lily is right now. She resolves to get him that way again tonight. He needs to relax more often.

James, though, looks absolutely miserable. His eyes are on Lily and Dearborn. His eyes are also shockingly clear.

She is deeply concerned. Taking Emmeline's hand (and interrupting whatever she had been saying), she goes to their corner. She pushes her pale blonde friend into Remus—who catches her, thank Merlin.

Marlene sits next to James at his rowdy table.

"What the fuck does she see in him?" he asks her.

She shrugs. "He's fit." At his glare, she grins. "C'mon. We both know he's not as talented as you, as smart as you, as witty as you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he says with a weak smile.

"You're funny and the second-best good-looking person in school."

"Who's first?"

She flashes a bright, toothy grin. "You're lookin' at her."

He snorts. "She's drunk and all over a prat."

She sighs. "Lighten up and grab another girl. Elizabeth Sanders fancies you." She nods to a soft-featured brunette across the room. "Persephone is playing, get her to dance. Do it in front of Lily."

James shakes his head. "I don't like using people like that."

"You're too noble, you damn Gryffindor." She pauses. "You took girls out before."

"That was to get over Evans, not to get back at her."

"Calling her 'Lily' would be a step in the right direction."

"Tried that. She threatened to curse my—"

"Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten."

"I hadn't."

"Was that before or after you confessed your love to her?"

"During."

"Ah. Fourth year, I miss it."

James groans. "I don't."

They're quiet for a few minutes, the party rising in volume around them to more than make up for it. Marlene breaks their silence with, "I still think you should ask her." She nods to Elizabeth again. "Let her know it's just as friends or something if you don't want to lead her on."

He takes her glass and gulps down the rest of her drink. As he stands, he says, "Okay."

Once she sees him dancing with Elizabeth—and Lily glaring at them—she lets out an exaggerated sigh and swishes her hips as she walks up to Sirius. "Oi, Black!"

His head snaps up, almost as if she's called her very obedient dog. Sirius? Obedient? Ha! She actually laughs aloud at that one.

"Do you need a fucking invitation?" she says, grinning knowingly. He begins to extract himself from his group of admirers (or whatever the hell they are). To spur him on, she licks her lips and pushes her mess of blonde hair out of her face with one hand.

He reaches her just in time with a confident smirk. Just in time, too.

Lily and James have started arguing again.