Chapter Text
You look over at Merula, sitting by herself sullenly in the great hall. She’s been like that for the past forty minutes, and usually, you’d ignore her incessant brooding, but today she hasn’t even tried for a snide remark.
Rowan comes over and follows your train of sight. They answer your question before you can even set it forth. “Heard her grandmother passed away over the summer.” They say quietly, eyes flicking to Merula one more time before they walk off (probably to the library).
There’s a bust of commotion towards the doors of the great hall and you turn your head to see Barnaby shouldering his way towards you. “H’lo!” He says cheerfully, knocking over a display of giant sandwiches. He looks sheepish as the display realigns itself before turning to you.
“How was your summer?” He asks.
You shrug, before glancing at Merula again. She’s glowering at the two of you, but she averts her gaze before you can catch her eye. “It was okay. You’re looking healthy.” You add.
Barnaby grins, but even he notices how your gaze keeps flitting towards the Slytherin table. You clear your throat when he gives you an inquisitive look. “Did you hear about Merula?”
Barnaby’s face sobers. “Her nana passed away. I was at the funeral. She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk much.”
This time, the both of you look towards her. Merula catches it, and abruptly, she stands and storms off.
“She was like that all summer.” Barnaby adds when she sends a group of unfortunate first years scattering with a vicious glare.
You remember Jacob, and you remember sitting alone at home, wondering where he was. You remember the pitying looks and the whispers and you are suddenly hit with the urge to follow Merula, no matter how much trouble she’s brought you.
You turn back to Barnaby. “Hey, could you do me a favor?”
As discreetly as you can, you sneak your way into the Slytherin common room. It’s silent and completely empty, most likely because everyone’s at the feast.
You make your way towards Merula’s room quietly. When you get close enough, you press your ear up against the door but hear nothing. You try the knob, and it turns easily.
Almost apprehensively, you push your way in, almost scared of what you’ll find.
The room is surprisingly cozy, one side evidently Ismelda’s. Merula’s side is actually very tidy, although that may be due to the fact she hasn’t unpacked yet.
Merula whips around, wand already at the ready before she freezes when she sees it’s you. “What are you doing here?” She says in disbelief, lowering her wand. She stiffens and points her wand at you again when you smile at her sheepishly. “You shouldn’t be here.” She hisses.
“You seemed upset at the feast.” You explain.
“I was not upset.” Merula snaps, too indignant to be true.
“You see what I mean.” You say, gesturing at her figure as if it clarifies everything.
Merula shakes her head and deliberately changes the subject. “How did you get in?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Um,” you warily eye her wand, “could you lower your wand?” She narrows her eyes but complies, “thanks. Uh, oh yeah – Barnaby gave me the password and I snuck in.”
“Merlin’s beard.” You hear her mutter under her breath. “He’s going to get us all killed.”
“Anyway,” you interject. “how are you doing?”
“I’d be better if you’d get out.” She pauses for a minute before adding a petulant, “thanks for asking.” Her eyes soften just a fraction, pretty much imperceptible, but you’ve spent enough time looking at them to know when she’s lowering her guard.
You try to touch her arm but she scowls and slaps it away.
“Oh, come on Merula. I went through all that trouble to get here. Can’t we at least, I dunno,” you stop talking when her eyes narrow dangerously.
You were about to say cuddle, but Merula hates the word, probably because it makes her seem too soft. At one point last year, she’d openly let you use it before Ismelda overheard and started cackling. It’d been a week before she’d even let you near her.
You’ve been careful about saying it since then.
“…hang out.” You finish tersely, and Merula relaxes a little, if at all.
“Fine.” She acquiesces, but you can tell she’s much happier about it than she lets on. She jerks back before you can wrap an arm around her. “If we get caught it’s all Barnaby’s fault.”
“All Barnaby’s fault.” You echo soothingly as you ease her down. It’s quiet for a minute, and Merula is still tense against you before she starts talking.
“My gran passed away.” She murmurs. She shifts her head on your lap to stare at the wall, looking like she’s trying hard not to cry. “She was always strict and mean but, I never thought—after my parents,” she stumbles on her words, her voice cracking before she quiets again and clenches her teeth.
You card a hand through her hair, ignoring the straw-like texture. Merula shudders out an exhale before turning to bury her face in your abdomen. You press your fingers to her hand and tangle them together and you realize she’s crying, shoulders shaking.
As gently as you can, you pull her into sitting position, careful not to look at her face. You wrap an arm around her waist, your hand pressing her head into your shoulder. You can feel the fabric of your shirt dampening, but all you do is murmur softly—almost inaudible, comforting words.
Merula brings her arms around your neck, pressing her face even deeper. It must take an hour before her breathing smooths out, but you stay there even though your leg’s falling asleep and your back’s starting to ache.
It takes another hour for her to fall asleep. Your shoulder is completely soaked and the room is quiet. You’re laying Merula down when you hear voices and footsteps coming up the stairs. You stiffen when Ismelda walks in, looking cheerful. Her eyes go wide when she sees the two of you, before the edges of her lips start to curl.
There’s a malignant look in her eye, but you start talking before she can even begin. “Not a word.” You whisper.
Ismelda seems taken aback before her smiles returns. “Or you’ll what?”
You frown. “Or Barnaby might just find out about your fancying him.”
She freezes at that, and pales even more than she already is. “It’s not like me saying it will do anything.” She huffs after a second. She must sense your confusion because she continues. “Everyone already knows you guys are a thing.”
She lets that sink in and you raise a brow. “How?”
She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “Um, the whole thing in the great hall? Everyone saw?”
There’s a silence. Ismelda shifts before adding, “she’s liked you since first year.” Then she moves to leave. “Have fun.” She mutters before closing the door behind her.
Merula moves slightly in her sleep and you lie down next to her as quietly as you can. There are dark lines under her eyes, but her breathing is steady. You’re hit with the urge to kiss her, but you tell yourself not like this, maybe in the morning.
Your housemates will probably start worrying if you don’t return, but Merula looks so serene like this that you’re compelled to stay. Her eyebrows aren’t drawn into their angry arch, mouth no longer stretched into a malefic sneer.
You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you open your eyes, it’s clear that time has passed. It’s still early as far as you can tell, there’s no hustle or bustle of movement of students making their ways to class, and Merula is still asleep.
It’s quiet for a moment before her eyes flicker open. She just stares at you for a second before she remembers where she is and jerks back so abruptly you go toppling onto the floor.
Bewildered, she looks around. “Why are you still here?” She hisses frantically. You scramble up to calm her down before she can throw a fit.
“Hey,” you push her down, “hey, no one knows. Ismelda won’t say anything.”
Merula briefly stops her worrying, before her eyes go wide. “Ismelda saw you?” She all but screeches.
“Yes, but she – ow – Merula, please, she won’t say anything, ow.”
“How are you going to get out of here? Someone’s going to report you.” Merula says, and you realize she’s not worried about Ismelda telling people, but whether or not you’re going to lose housepoints.
You place a hand on her waist and pull yourself up onto the bed. “She won’t say anything. I, uh, kind of blackmailed her.”
Merula stills but doesn’t ask. “How are we going to get to class?”
You scratch your neck because she’s got you there. You weren’t exactly planning out your visit in long detail. “I’ll leave when everyone’s gone to class?”
Merula huffs out an exasperated sigh. “How will you know everyone’s gone to class?” She rolls her eyes when you smile embarrassedly. Then, to your surprise, she lies down.
“Are you staying with me?” You ask, in disbelief. “Won’t you miss your first class?”
Merula tries to feign nonchalance. “Everyone skips class.” She says. “You do it all the time.”
You lie down with her, trying not to grin too wide. She frowns when she catches the glint in your eye. “What?”
“Apparently, you’ve fancied me since first year.” You bark out a laugh when Merula flushes a bright red and pushes you away, sending you sprawling on the floor.
She’s red in the face, spluttering empty threats of turning you in herself, and you’d be hard pressed to believe her if her smile didn’t speak so differently.