Archive of Our Own

Weepin' in a sunlit room, and

If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

'Til my dying day

-Taylor Swift, My Tears Ricochet 

How do you learn to live when you are dead? 

How do you learn to live eternity in peace when you fought in a war?

How do you stop fighting?

How do you stop flinching?

How do you stop being a war person?

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You shouldn’t have been a soldier. No one should’ve been a soldier.

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You always wanted to be a teacher. You always wanted to work at Hogwarts and stare at the kids with smiles and joy like you used to be and teach them charms. You learned that you would never be able to do that. You learned that your fate would be your death. You learned that your fate was a tragedy. No happy ending for Marlene Mckinnon.

You learned that you will never get the role you wanted and you had to learn to accept it. You had to learn to accept the fire in your veins and the storm in your step. You had to learn that people would still try to push you down because you are female and you do not look like them.

You were meant to be a mother and at home and a teacher and a peaceful soul. And maybe you could have become that. Maybe you would. But fate was not kind enough to give you that maybe. Fate was not kind enough to give you what society wanted you to be. And you would suffer for it. But maybe. Just maybe. That’s better. Maybe that’s what you were always supposed to do.

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You were innocent and kind and a storm all at once. You were a kid and stayed a kid.

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You are eleven and meet Dorcas Meadowes and Mary Macdonald.

Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene. A trio of girls whose eyes don’t look like they belong in their bodies.

Dorcas’s dark skin and dark hair and her vibrant curls. Her lovely warm brown eyes rumbled like the earth.

Mary’s tanned skin and brown hair and her waves that fit her face. Her lovely warm gray eyes moved like a wave on a stormy night.

You all laugh and run through the halls and meet Lily Evans. A girl with auburn hair and green eyes that match yours.

She’s friends with a boy that you can feel darkness falling off of. And you grab her and drag her down the halls to the library. 3 becomes 4.

Severus Snape is the boy’s name and you keep that in the back of your head.

Whispers fly around the castle about your tanned skin and slightly rounded nose and your dark roots and everything else they can pick from your appearance. You roll your eyes and laugh it off.

You scrape your knees during flying class and do not cry. You laugh and roll your eyes as a boy with long black hair snaps around. You smile at everyone as you bow and get back on your broom.

You master your DADA and charms class faster than anyone else and can feel the stares of Snape on your neck. You move to help Lily with the charm as stare turns to glare. 

You aren’t as good in potions and you can feel glee pouring off of Snape. You partner with Mary and Lily goes with Dorcas. Mary knows her around potions better than you and it’s funny and not.

Because you are a half-blood and society thinks you should be better than a muggle-born. But you think that’s stupid. You both are witches. Why does it matter? It doesn’t. That’s what you decide. 

You laugh and smile and then Christmas break pasts. Mary comes back, with sadness and grief pouring through holes. Holes that are new and not supposed to be there.

Her father is dead. You gather her in your arms and hope that your feelings will patch those stupid holes and numb the grief running from your friend. It doesn’t matter that you only met her this year. You are friends and you do not leave friends alone when they need help. 

Dorcas and Lily stay by her side when you aren’t there. 

Your nights are filled with sleepovers in a tiny single bed with Mary as Dorcas and Lily are asleep.

Books and little origami flowers lay over your bed and you laugh quietly as a paper swan flies over to your hand. Mary smiles and that’s good. Happiness swims and pushes through the grief and sadness and now it’s all three and thats better. So you smile.

Grief is still wrapped around Mary and it won’t disappear and thats okay. You can help with that. Right? Right.

Dorcas stared at you as she put on her tattered boots and ran outside for her next class. Emotions flash around her, too many to read. Too many to see. Too many and complex. And human.

Lily laughs as she waves bye to Snape and you still want to rip him apart. Because there is something wrong. But he hasn’t done anything and you don’t have proof and you can’t. So you keep your mouth shut as you drag Mary to practice your potions again.

You tie your blonde hair in a ponytail as you watch the Gryffindor team play against Slytherin. You scream and cheer as points are scored and stare in awe at Adelia Rockwood and Axton Kent, the two beaters of the Gryffindor team.

They flash past you and Adelia winks as you gasp.

You laugh as Mary peers over your shoulder with a book. “Something cool happenin’?” You roll your eyes. “You didn’t have to come Mares.” Dorcas cackles. “Of course, she came. This is the best part of the year.” You roll your eyes as you lean your head on her shoulder. “Whatever.” Lily sighs as she turns to Mary and begins whispering.

You get an O on your DADA test and an E on your Charms with A’s on all the final tests for the year and pack quickly. You board the train with Dorcas, Mary, and Lily. You can still hear those stupid whispers. About your nose and Dorcas’s curls and Mary’s skin and you want to throw something. You want to storm in the compartment and yell at them. But you do not.

You continue strutting down the hallway into your compartment. Mary and Lily quickly fall asleep and you stare out the window imagining flying and charms. Dorcas slumps onto your shoulder as she falls into slumber and you smile as you stare at the trees.

The train stops in the station and you wake up the girls. You quickly change back into normal clothes and grab your bags. You walk out the door and your eyes catch with a group of boys. Remus is one of them. A boy you met in the library. Sirius Black, a Potter, and someone else. He gives a small wave and you smile as you wave your hand.

Lily runs off to a family with a blonde girl glaring at her and two lovely parents. Mary turns to her mother and you give her a long hug. “Write me if you need anything. Anything at all.” You whisper as she walks away. You and Dorcas strut down the path and Dorcas lets go of your hand. “My brothers over there.” She says as she walks away with a man with dark brown hair.

You continue walking down the station path till finally, you see your mother. Her brown hair curled around her head. “Marlene, me alegro de verte querida. Vamos. No podemos mantener a tu padre esperando.” 

You give her a slight smile. “Me alegro de verte a ti también, mamá.” You quickly walk after your mother, her heels clicking on the ground.

You walk into your father’s convenience store and he ignores you as he kisses your mother on the cheek. That’s okay. You walk upstairs and your older brother, Ash,  gives you a wave. “¿Cómo fue tu primer año, hermanita?” You smile at him as you place your bag down. “Fue genial. Hice algunos amigos y aprendí muchas cosas.” He smiles and ruffles your hair. You fake bite his hand and he laughs as walks downstairs. Happiness pours from him as cinnamon invades your nose.

You are home and with your family and that’s the best thing that will ever happen. “El año que viene será mejor.” You whisper as you slowly unpack.

“El año que viene será mejor.” You say as you walk down stairs.

You sit down and your family holds hands. “Que la vida sea siempre buena.” They whisper and you keep your mouth closed. Because life will not be great. You can feel it in your veins. You can see it in the emotions pouring from your father and mother. You can tell because Mary came back crying and Lily won’t admit that Snape’s bad for her and Remus is hiding something.

Your father’s stare is imprinted in your brain as your older brothers eat and your baby sister gaggles.

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You are 12 and your father can’t take you to the station. Lucas, your stupid older brother, who is 2 years older than you has to take you with Ash.

Ash gives you a hug. “Asegúrate de que Lucas no se meta en problemas. Cuida bien de tus amigos. Serás aceptado en el equipo, Marls.” He says and you nod. “Entendido.” You grab your bag and turn to Lucas. “Subir al tren, Lucas!” He rolls his eyes as he scrambles up.

You strut down the hall eyes searching till you see Dorcas’s curls and walk-in. Lily and Mary are also there. You stare at them and smile. Colors roll into the corners of your eyes as emotions pour out of them. Laughter rolls down the corridor as Sirius Black runs down the corridor.

You stare as Potter opens the door. “Oh, Evans!” You sigh. “Nope. Not today.” You say quickly and shut the door. Right on his face.

Dorcas snickers as you turn around and sit down. “So. Favorite quidditch position?” 

Lily sighs as the door opens again and Snape stands there. “Lily.” Lily looks up. “Severus!”

You close your eyes slowly and pretend you aren’t there.

The glare is still there and so is the stare.

He leaves as emotions of platonic love and happiness pour off of Lily. You smile at her and hold your necklace. Your eyes close and you dream about colors and wands flying and nothing.

You wake up ten minutes before the train stops. You all quickly change and laugh at small jokes.

You all walk in and sit down and eat and watch the sorting.

You clap and pretend the emotions aren’t suffocating you. You don’t know what you are. But that’s okay. Because you have other things to worry about. Like quidditch tryouts.

You go through your classes and quidditch tryouts happen. You and Potter are the younger there. Beater and Chaser. 

You fly through the sky more brutal than normal and you win. You are put on the team but Potter was too.

You stare at him and he stares at you.

You win the next game.

Dorcas’s younger sister has cancer. She comes to you crying.

You hold her tight and don’t let go. Lily sits there all day as Mary hums a song you don’t recognize.

You don’t laugh as much this year but you guys still run down the halls. You still play stupid little pranks on the ‘marauders’ and cackle as they walk out covered in goo or with pink hair or whatever they did that time.

You still are exceeding in Charms and DADA. You still suck at potions and are still pretty bad at transfiguration. You still stare at the stars during astronomy. You still are on a roll of E’s in Herbology. You still fall asleep in History of Magic.

You hold hands with Dorcas as you walk past the black lake. You still don’t have crushes on any of the other boys like the others. You still watch those two girls. One with bubblegum pink hair and one with blue tips as they kiss in the corners with smiles and laughter and gum. You watch as a professor berates them and how the girl with blue tips sticks up her middle finger. “ ¡Vete a la mierda!” The bubblegum-haired girl said as she ran off dragging the other off.

You realize that girl with bubblegum pink hair is Adelia Rockwood. You gape when you realize that it was her. You had wondered what had happened to her.

You laugh as she puts an arm around your shoulder. “So kid. You’re my partner. We should get to know each other better.” She says and you smile. You agree and she cackles.

She shows you little hallways and secret areas. She shows you places you could dance and sing and just have fun without the professor’s caring.

She shows you little corners with bubblegum stuck in the patches and paint-splattered over them. Where there is chapstick and makeup thrown around. Where bras and underwear and tank tops and shorts are thrown all over with jackets thrown over chairs and chocolates and candy and everything in between on a shelf.

You smile and she nods. A secret. “Only show it to people you think need it.” She tells you and you nod.

You go back to your dormitory with chapstick-covered lips and a new tank top. They don’t question where you got it and you hug Dorcas again as you cover her with a jacket.

Your brother Lucas lays on the ground in the hallway. Students screaming and running for professors. You run towards him.

You shake him and try to perform a diagnostics spell but nothing shows. Tears stream down your face as you feel his pulse fade from your hands and magic not work. “¡No puedes hacerme esto! ¡No puedes dejarme! Lucas, por favor. Por favor, no hagas esto. Ahora no. Aquí no. Por favor. Por favor. Por favor, Lucas.” You whisper and maybe it’s a scream at the same time as you try spell after spell. 

Dorcas drags you away from him as a professor comes over with Madam Pomfrey and you see her shake her head. You scream as they close his eyes. 

Your parents are owled and your mother appears in all black a week later.

You appear in a black leather jacket given to you by Sirius Black (You don’t know why. But you can guess. He has a younger brother.) Dorcas holds your hand as Mary is still humming. Lily holds her wand tight as she leads the way into the office.

You stare at her and your eyes go foggy once more. “Ha pasado una semana.” You say and she opens her mouth. “¿Por qué no viniste tan pronto como te llamaron?” You ask and you can feel Dumbledore’s stare. McGonagall sighs as your mother walks towards you.

You step back and glare at her. Dorcas squeezes your hand. “Marls. Marlene. Lo siento. Lo siento mucho, pero.” Your mother starts and you glare at her fierce and hateful. “Cállate. No quiero escucharlo.” You say and her mouth snaps shut.

“No le hables así a tu padre cuando llegues a casa.” You raise an eyebrow and turn to McGonagall. “Am I allowed to bring someone with me?” You ask quietly as Dorcas takes a breath. McGonagall whispers to Dumbledore and he whispers back. Emotions appear quickly on her and disappear just as fast. Sympathy, empathy, sadness. “If your mother agrees.”

You stare at your mother. She stares at you. “Sí. Adelante, trae a un amigo. Pero eso es todo, a tu padre no le gustará uno y mucho menos más.” You nod and squeeze Dorcas’s hand. She nods and you both step closer to your mother.

You walk with her through the fireplace.

Ash stares at you and his eyes move to Dorcas. He gives her a smile. “Sube las escaleras y lleva a Dorcas a mi habitación. Papá está borracho en este momento.” He whispers to you as he hugs you and you nod.

You drag Dorcas upstairs and put her in Ash’s room. “Don’t come out till Ash or I come to get you.” You tell her and she grabs your hand and pulls you into a hug. You place your head onto her shoulder and take a deep breath and move.

You walk downstairs. Your blonde hair in a ponytail and wearing all black. Red fingernails are the only thing different. Alisha and Lucia, your older sisters. Yumie, Lucas’s girlfriend. Neil and Cameron, her older brothers. 

They all stand in the living room with your mother and your father. Ash stands behind you and you all look at each other. Yumie stares at you with tears streaming down her face and she runs towards you. The emotions are running around the room. Grief and sadness are filling the room to the brim and you cannot breathe and she hugs you tight. Tighter than the hugs you give. “I’m so sorry. So sorry you had to see that.” She repeats. Over and over and over and over again.

You hug her back and realize maybe you shouldn’t have been there. Maybe you shouldn’t have been 12 and crying over your older brothers dying body trying to save him. But you can’t change that but you can change your nail color and your clothes.

So you nod slowly and hold Yumie close. You are taller than the rest of the girls at school already. You can reach your mother’s shoulder and you are almost as tall as Yumie.

You hold her and hope that maybe some of the emotions you were stealing from Dorcas lands in her.

You sit by Yumie as your family sits in a circle and you lean towards her. “Meet up with me when we get back to Hogwarts.” You whisper and she stares at you but she nods.

Your mother stares at your father and you stare at the walls and Alisha sighs. Lucia and Cameron talk as Neil raises his eyebrow. Ash stares at the ground.

“¿Quién es la persona de arriba?” Your father asks. You stare at him with the storm in your eyes that had been there when Lucas died. “Dorcas. Mi amigo. Me permitieron traer a alguien conmigo.” He frowns and you don’t look away. You’re allowed this. You are allowed a friend. Your brother died in front of you. You’re allowed a friend to be by your side.

Your father does not say anything as he turns and asks Alisha about her plans. You aren’t shocked. “Dile a tu amiga que puede venir a sentarse con nosotros.” He says and you nod. You quickly walk up the stairs, your family’s eyes on you as you open the door.

Dorcas looks up from the wall and she stands up. You walk down the steps that have grown creaky and you sit back in your spots. Your father does not spare a look at Dorcas. Lucia turns and starts to talk and you stare at the wall. 

3 hours later, you all walk out and into a car. Heading to your brother’s funeral. You stand as you stare at a casket. Lucas’s dead and cold and graying body lays still and you want to scream. You want to yell and throw things but you do not do either.

You walk up and let a single tear fall before the casket is taken away. You drive to the graveyard and stare as the casket is buried in the ground. You grab your rose (dyed red with his blood) and throw it in the hole in the ground. It hits the casket. You grab the shovel and throw the dirt into the grave and you shouldn’t be doing this. You are 12 years old, you shouldn’t be burying your older brother.

You sit in the stupid plastic seat on the stupid dirt as Yumie shovels more dirt into the grave and Cameron shushes Freya, your baby sister.

You go back to Hogwarts with Yumie and Dorcas the next day. Your father’s yelling is imprinted in your head. You drag Yumie into the corners with the chapstick and bubblegum and hand her some hair dye. You smile at her and stain her cheek with red lipstick.

The next day she walks out with red streaks in her hair. Sirius Black whistles as Yumie walks to her table and you curse him with a tickling jinx.

You wink at Remus as you head to Quidditch Practice. James stares at you and you stare back.

Adelia smiles at you as you jump onto your broom. You win the next game and Mary screams. 

Lily laughs as Marlene cackles and Dorcas smiles.

You dance in your dorms with origami swans flying around and music playing and you pretend that you still don’t cry at night staring at Lucas’s body in your eyelids.

You finish the year with O’s in Herbology, DADA, and Charms, and E’s in all your other classes. You strut down the hall of the train and instead of whispers of your skin color and nose and Dorcas’s curls and Mary’s skin, it’s about your brother and his death and what caused it and you scream in your compartment.

Dorcas rubs your arm as Mary stares out the window and Lily walks in from talking with Severus and opens her potions book. 

You walk off the train station say bye to the girls and walk off. Yumie quickly finds you and your hands connect as you meet Ash. He hugs you and you hug him back.

You walk off in silence and get in the car in silence. Yumie nods as Ash drops her off at a house that isn’t yours and you frown but you do not speak.

Because you are still a 12-year-old girl with no reach in life.

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You’re 13 years old and you’re still furious at the world. Lucas is still dead and your father still ignores you as much as he can.

You still have no attraction to boys and still dream of colors and fighting and wands and spells and nothing.

You still hate everything and you still want to scream. You still have your red lipstick on and you still paint your fingernails red and blue and every color you can find.

You still curl your hair and wear it in messy ponytails. You still have your mean growl and fierce smirk. You still don’t cry when she scrapes her knees.

You stare at Sirius Black and he stares at you. You both don’t love each other. Both of you could say that. But he still pulls you in and you still grab the back of his neck and their lips meet.

They still kiss in the hallways and hold hands, not fully connected but still.

You see how he stares as Remus Lupin walks the hall and you see how you stare at Dorcas’s lips and her lovely laugh and her everything.

Adelia laughs as you shove her.

You still wear the stupid black leather jacket as you grow as tall as your mother and almost to your father’s nose.

You don’t go home this Christmas.

Dorcas’s sister is dead. A death eater murdered her. Had ripped her heart from her body.

You hold her close as Mary lays down and Lily closes her eyes.

You stare out your window as you practice your charms. You practice every night with wands and magic and girls.

You and Sirius break up mid-way through the year. He goes after Remus and you do not go after Dorcas.

You do walk to your next class with Dorcas and stare at those little corners with the bubblegum and paint.

Whispers about an evil man invade the rumors you hear. About Narcissa Black, no Malfoy and Lucius joining him. Whispers of heirs and magic and blood supremacy. 

You glare at those stupid little boys and naive little girls who whisper it with smirks on their faces. You could have been one of them. But your too old eyes and your dead brother and everything else made sure of it.

You get on your broom and win the next quidditch game.

A couple of days later a girl just like you lay on the ground spitting up blood. You run over there, wand in hand. Dark magic. You mutter a couple of healing spells that Lucia had taught you during the summer. Madam Pomfrey comes over and Dorcas pulls you away. Madam Pomfrey pours a couple of potions and does a couple of spells and the girl is fine. Well as fine as a girl who was dying and now isn’t could be.

The girl asks for you and you walk into the infirmary. “Thank you.” She says quietly as her mother stares at you. You pretend you don’t see her dying on the ground, blood flying, your hands shaking, words falling out of your mouth, and you covered in blood.

You give her a fake smile with your red lips. “Of course, it’s no problem.” You turn away as her name is whispered to you. Dealla Wilson. 

Madam Pomfrey waves at you and you nod as you walk out the door.

You know you are destined to die. You can feel it in your firey veins and ‘unlimited’ stubbornness. No one could survive their whole life with just fiery veins and ‘unlimited’ stubbornness.

You strut down the halls with the leather jacket and curled blonde hair and red lips and pink cheeks and dark green eyes and a stormy strut.

Your wand twitches in your hand as you head to arithmancy. You sit down next to Lily. You guys share a look in your old eyes and thats it. She rants to you about Sirius Black and James Potter and Peter Pettigrew as you guys practice.

You laugh as you suggest plans of pranks. They’re nice and easy and really would only be annoying but that’s all you want to do. Because a girl was dying and your brother was dead. That happened here.

Lily laughs with you as she picks out a couple and changes them a tiny bit and throws the plans back at you.

You laugh as you head to Ancient Runes and sit next to Dorcas. You whisper about prank plans and flowers by the lake.

She reaches for your hand and you let her grab it and pretend that you can’t hear your father screaming in the background.

Adelia and you meet in those little corners and just talk. About everything and nothing. Next year is her last year at Hogwarts. She’s going to be an Auror. You smile and that’s not for you. (But you might not have a choice.) You smile and talk about studies and quidditch plans.

You walk by the lake as you practice spells and stare at the sky and that’s the peace you have. Those little moments in the corners of the halls and seconds of hand-holding with Dorcas. Whispers with Lily and papers with Mary.

Yumie and you pass each other in the halls. She gives you a wave and you give her a smile and a wave. 

She helps you with arithmancy and anything thing else you ask and you teach her a couple of the healing spells you know. 

Little repeated moments.

You are still a storm down the halls as you ignore the whispers.

Your nose and Dorcas’s curls and Mary’s skin. 

You listen to the whispers of the evil man, Voldemort.

You listen to ideals and whispers of rumors of plans.

You and Dorcas lean against each other on a bench in the library and you pretend that you can’t feel the school falling apart.

The emotions are there everywhere and anywhere. It never stops and you want to scream. But you don’t have that luxury. You don’t have the luxury of screaming and crying when you aren’t okay. So you rub people’s backs and heal little cuts and paint your lips red once more.

The black leather jacket never comes off. You and Sirius still meet on benches and help each other. He talks to you about the ‘Marauders’ and you talk to him about whispers. He talks to you about Voldemort and you talk about healing spells.

You stare at little Regulus Black as you watch Peter Pettigrew. Somethings off about everything.

You curl your hair and put on your lipstick. You tie your combat boots as you place your wand on your waist. You throw on your leather jacket over your Hogwarts shirt and Gryffindor tie. None of the teachers say anything.

You pretend that you can’t feel their emotions and see their stares. Sadness for you and your family and the girl, Dealla, and everyone else that’s fallen in this school.

You pretend that you haven’t watched the little kids in Gryffindor barf as a kid hits the floor. You pretend like you haven’t run over to so many people and tried to save them as Madam Pomfrey runs to get there. You pretend like you haven’t had to scrub the blood out of so many uniform white shirts and Gryffindor ties.

Remus sits by you during lunch and you hum a song Ash had taught you. Yumie waves from the Hufflepuff table and Adelia laughs as she hides in the Ravenclaw table. Pandora Lovegood, a friend of hers. She’s in the same year as you. Pandora sighs as she stares at the roof.

You finish the year with O’s and E’s. You walk into the train and change. You all stare at each other scared for what the next year will bring. Terror or hope? Fighting or peace? 

You walk off to your family’s. Dorcas squeezes your hand before she lets go and walks off with her brother and you walk up to Ash. Yumie meets up with you two as she waves goodbye to Pandora and a couple of other kids you don’t know. Adelia appears in the corner of your eye and she walks off with the girl with blue tips.

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You are in your 4th year and 45 muggle-borns are dead. 25 half-bloods are dead. You were out on the streets most nights. Sneaking out. You saved 15 people.

But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You are still the girl with a worn baseball cap and scraped knees.

But your hair is in a ponytail and your wands in your hair as potions lay on your belt. Your brother’s dead body and Dealla’s dying body and all those people you could and couldn’t save are painted in your eyelids. 

Your lips are painted crimson red with blood as your blonde hair is layered in soot that won’t come out and the tips stained with other people’s blood.

You walk down the hall and pretend like you can’t feel people’s stares and Sirius stares at you his mouth opening and closing. Remus lets out a deep breath as James Potter’s eyes widen and Peter stares at you. The Slytherins stare at you and you glare at them, knives going from your eyes to their souls.

Emotions appear and they clog your nerves and you throw up the cell walls. The emotions fade as the cell walls thicken and grow taller.

You sit down in the compartment and pretend like you don’t hear Lily’s gasp. Dorcas and Mary walk in and Dorcas’s eyes trace your face and you want to run. But you are a storm and you sit and stay.

Dorcas sits by you and Mary sits across from you and Lily stares out the window. James comes in and walks out and you ignore whatever conversation is happening. Your hands are still stained red with those people’s blood and you wish you never snuck out in the first place.

But you did and you can’t change that and so you change into your uniform and throw on your leather jacket and fix your ponytail and straighten your belt. You repaint your lips with crimson red lipstick and strut down the hall. You sit in the great hall and you half-listen to the speech. You walk back to your dorm after you eat and dedicate yourself to making little flowers and swans like you did when Mary’s dad died. 

Lily just lays on the seat by your bed as Dorcas lays down next to you and Mary starts to hum once more.

Lyrics inaudible. 

You fall asleep that night, legs on Lily’s lap and head on Dorcas’s chest.

You chug a bottle of water mixed with wine right before breakfast. You chug another after your classes as you let a Slytherin girl drag you into a dark corner and your lips connect and her hand goes down to your waist and you tug on her tie and your clothes are off. She is kissing down, down, down, and there. She sucks and licks and you hold onto her hair and tug.

You give her the favor of doing the same and you kiss her breast. You both finish and you grab your clothes and put them on and walk back to your common rooms. Neither of you knows each other’s name.

The girls don’t mention anything and you don’t say anything.

It’s another girl the next night. Then another and another and another and another.

Adelia stares at your bloodied hair and she just hugs you. She’s still becoming an Auror. You realize she didn’t want to be. But people are dying and you both are storms with hero complexes and you can’t leave people to die if you can try and save them.

You kiss another girl.

You and Peter talk about Charms and lakes and animals and plants.

You whisper about spells and animals and he whispers about family and loyalty.

You separate and you kiss another girl.

Heat and moans and pants and breaths in dark corners. Chapstick and rushing, putting clothes back on in those little corners.

You are still that weathered dagger. You still have those potions.

A girl falls, dark magic hits her in the chest and you are already there. Potion down her throat, shield thrown up by Dorcas as spell after spell falls from your mouth and the girl is alive once more.

Madam Pomfrey takes her away and you scrub the blood off your clothes and your hands. ( But it’s still there. ) You let yourself be dragged by an older Ravenclaw girl and your back in that corner with moans and pants and kissing and sucking and heat. Skin against skin.

You still go to your classes and people are still dying. Rumors of Voldemort fly around the castle into the ears of girls with painted nails.

You still stare at the walls as you and Peter hang out more and more.

You still stare at the scenery outside as Dorcas holds your hand and you guys walk past the lake.

You still are that stupid 14-year-old girl with stupid ideas.

You are still a painted girl with painted words.

Severus Snape calls Lily a Mudblood as you take care of Mary. James deals with it as you snarl at the approaching Slytherins.

You share a look and something, a bond attached to you two.

You win the quidditch cup.

Adelia leaves to become an Auror with a scholarship.

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It’s your fifth year and you and Dorcas are the first two people in the compartment. She stares at you and looks out and then grabs the back of your neck. She places her other hand on your cheek and brings you in and kisses you.

You stare at her as you blink. “Girlfriends?” Dorcas asks and you stare at the world in her eyes. “Girlfriends.” You whisper and pretend your breath hasn’t been replaced with dead girls’ last words and dead boys’ last wishes.

You see a stupid mark on Snape’s arm that was on the adults that killed those dead girls and dead boys. Death Eaters. He’s one now and there is nothing left to try and pretend you can save. Lily sobs in Mary’s arms as you glare out the window.

You’ve been covered with dead girls’ last wishes and words. Their blood and their words and their secrets and their wishes and their dreams. You still wear your medic bag on your shoulder and you still stare at the shadows like monsters are going to come running in and rip your heart out.

Your mother can whisper  “Todo está bien.” and your father can start to pay attention to you but war is coming and you are all doomed.

But you still hold the younger years in the warmest hugs you can give and you’ll still whisper to them. “Todo está bien. Estaremos bien.” You repeat in their ears as they sob in your arms wanting their parents.

You are still 15 years old and fighting a war that you shouldn’t be. But you aren’t pureblood. You are a half-blood. You still have non-magical blood. You still bleed ‘dirty’. You still have grit and stubbornness.

You claw your way back to the top of your classes and drag your friends with you. You hang out with the Marauders more as Lily and James start to get along for once. You and Dorcas hold hands as Remus and Sirius share a kiss. You laugh as Sirius sticks out his tongue. And everything is as good as it can be. 

You are still a dead girl in waiting but you are fighting. 

You still walk by the black lake and still wander around little corners. But now you are that girl with cool hair and a girlfriend that shows little girls where to hide and adventure.

You get a letter saying your family has moved. An attack on the house. ‘Dirty Blood’ is written in red on your walls. In your bedroom. 

You just nod because you don’t know how to react.

You watch a boy fall to the ground and you are already next to him before anyone can even react.

Spell, potion, bandage, spell, potion, and move as Madam Pomfrey appears.

McGonagall stares at you as you walk away, your dirty blonde curls bounce as you walk.

Sirius becomes keeper and Dorcas becomes the other beater.

You still want to scream when the emotions flood in and you throw the wall up again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

You’re still in that corner with Dorcas and your shirts are off and skirts are thrown down and you two are finished and walking back to your beds with your clothes back on and hair fixed.

Dead girls and dead boys haunt your eyelids. Lucas is dead in your dreams and Dealla is dying.

You win the quidditch match and you do not scream and celebrate. Peter sits by you and you laugh and joke and swear to be friends till the end. (And maybe you should have noticed the darkness peering into his arm.)

You are in the library reading with Remus and he slips up. He mentions he is a werewolf and then freaks out but you just nod slowly and hold his arm. “It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone. I swear.” You say and he calms slightly and you stare out the window. “I really don’t care. You’re a werewolf so what? You haven’t killed me yet. You won’t.” You say. (And you were right.)’

He sighs as you walk away. 

You heal another girl and another boy and Madam Pomfrey looks at you. “Honestly. You should take my job.” She says and maybe you should.

But your family needs you close and you can’t do that if you’re at Hogwarts.

So you keep with your normal studies and hang out with the girls and the marauders.

You pretend like it’s a surprise when James reveals that Sirius had run away to his house. It’s not as surprising as they think it is.

You see where you think your old eyes came from.

The year speeds by and you go home and you clean up around the house. Yumie’s moved to America to go through a potions masters course and Ash is only around half the time and so it’s just you and Freya and mamá and papá. Your mamá is barely around always with the nurses and your father is always working. So it’s just you and Freya.

But that’s okay because you want to be a mother. And with how the world is going it’s just a possibility and not a confirmed dream. Not like fighting and healing. It’s not guaranteed that you can do it.

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It’s your 6th year and it’s not just potions on your belt. It’s daggers and knives and poisons and everything else you can fit.

You hide in small corners and pretend like it’s all okay. Lily’s dancing in the sunlight and Mary’s laughing and everything isn’t okay but you can pretend it is. 

Dorcas holds your hand and you hate the grand hall and all its hanging posters and its nice candles and its night sky roof and all of it. It’s too peaceful, it's not outside.

It’s not outside your home with blood and tears and things that can’t be described. It’s not dance battles in alleyways and monthly dances in cafes.

It’s not dying bodies of muggles and wizards and witches older and younger than you. It’s not them pleading for someone to heal them. It’s not them whispering prayers for the mockingbird.

Mockingbird. The name you were given with your tied-up hair and black outfit. The stupid little girl running down the streets with healing potions and doing magic illegally. Bandages and alcohol were stuffed in her stupid bag on her shoulder.

James is quidditch captain running drills daily and that’s normal. It’s like being the cashier every day in your dad’s shop.

More kids are falling and dying by dark magic and you aren’t always there and Madam Pomfrey can’t save them all but Hogwarts won’t close because where would anyone learn.

You stare at the wall as another is dead and Neil has owled you telling you that Lucia hasn’t been home for a couple of days and to be on a lookout for clues or letters and he’ll tell you if she comes back. Alive or dead? That’s your question. Is your sister going to be dead when you get her back?

She’s alive. You find out after you win the next quidditch game and finish your first test for advanced arithmancy.

You are still showing little girls secret corners. You stare out the windows as little boys run around. Older girls and boys come up to you asking for lessons on healing magic and how to make healing potions and where to get bandages and where to get poisons and daggers.

You show them little stores in the cracks of cities on a map. You watch awe explode over their faces as you heal little scrapes with ease.

You do not smile. Not like you should. They stare at you and you stare at them. The odds of kids dying in the school lessen not disappear but lessen. “Que el mundo sea amable.” You whisper at night in your bedroom. You say as you move away and let Madam Pomfrey check the kid that was dying. You think as you read updates from your brothers and your sisters and Yumie.

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It’s your 7th year and you’ve got a part-time scholarship for the Auror academy. Just for this year. You stare at the letter in the grand hall. Dorcas on your right, Mary on your left. Lily is in front of you with the Marauders on her side. 

You stare at the letter and you snatch a quill out of your bag. You scratch your signature under ‘I agree’ and let the owl take the letter.

It’s too late to become your dream. It’s too late to become a teacher. Not when you’ve been wrapped into this war and you aren’t even out of school. Emmeline Vance, another 7th year in Hufflepuff stares at you and you know she got the same offer. 

You and Emmeline go together to a stupid dark room and no one is there. It’s pitch black and you grab your wand. Emmeline goes to gasp or do something and you slap your hand over her mouth. She grabs her wand and something in the shadows move and a spell flies out of your wand. Invisible. A thud as it hits the ground and you pull out your knife with your other hand.

“Homenum Revlio.” You whisper and two other people reveal themselves in green light. You shot stupefy twice and they hit the ground.

“Lumos maxima,” Emmeline says as she goes out of her frozen mode. You turn around and raise an eyebrow. “Rennervate.” You said as he got up. A man with red hair stared at you and Emmeline and laughed. 

He waved his hand and the two others walked over. A girl with black short hair and a man with black hair.

“Sneak attack. That’s a wonderful welcome.” Emmeline says and you snort. “If you were trying to prepare us? We would still have more of a warning. Because if we are out in the field there are chances to be killed.” You say and the girl smiles.

“That’s what I said to them.” She mutters as the black-haired man rolls his eyes.

You spend every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday evening at an Auror’s academy. Healing, Fighting, Torture, Plans. All of it. Taught to you and Emmeline and a couple of other 17 and 18-year-old kids. You are still kids. But it doesn’t matter. Because this is war and most dreams die. Rules change and things are never the same. 

You learned that when Lucas died and Yumie left and Papá got worse and Ash kept the music on longer and you stayed in the streets at night and worked all day.

No one questions your dirty blonde hair and the tainted red parts of it and you don’t question the bruises, not from training and the tear tracks and the shivering. But you do throw foundation bottles and highlight and some coats and a chocolate bar at their heads.

You keep up with your studies and DADA is no longer required for you. You are excused from charms after you finish the last spells on your second week.

You and Dorcas go on walks by the forest and kiss in little corners and you are still a beater and Dorcas is still a beater and Sirius is still a keeper and James is still a chaser.

Remus and Lily are still in the bleachers reading and Mary and Peter are still cheering. Peter disappears sometimes but that doesn’t matter.

There are parties in the Gryffindor common room after everyone 4th year and younger are upstairs and asleep. Music and drinks and dancing and rubbing your ass against someone’s body and laughing and truth or dare and never have I ever and laughter and sleeping on the chairs.

The Gryffindor seventh-year population gets smaller and smaller till it’s just you and Mary and Dorcas and Lily and James and Peter and Remus and Sirius.

Lily and James kiss in the middle of the common room half-drunk on whiskey and you all whistle and scream.

 You spin around and stare at Dorcas and pull her in as Remus laughs and Sirius whistles. Lily smiles and Mary cackles from above Peter and James rolls his eyes.

You and Emmeline become close but not close enough for secrets and bookshelves.

No one in your family owls you till after Christmas break when you don’t come home, instead of staying at the Auror Academy and spending all day studying and evening training.

You meet Regulus Black officially and offer him help but he says no and something is wrong but you don’t know what and so you sigh and nod and let him go.

You watch memories from dead Aurors in class and the new recruits gasp and all those 17 and 18-year-old kids that are on the stupid scholarship don’t. They don’t flinch or gasp or shout. Because it’s been like that for a couple of years and you’ve had to heal people and people have died.

You and your friends graduate and smile and get drunk in a muggle bar in downtown London. You are wearing your black leather jacket and combat boots and black jeans and a white crop top. A black hat on your head and it’s the time of your life. The best time you’ll get.

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You are 19. You have just graduated from Hogwarts and joined the order of the phoenix. Voldemort is as high as he can be in the rank of evil wizards and your family is in hiding. Everything is a mess. People are dying and you can’t heal all of them and it’s all so much and you haven’t been able to feel emotions and you don’t have little corners with bubblegum and paint to hide in anymore.

You kiss Dorcas in front of others and pieces of you hate it. No more places to hide and no safe spaces. But this is war and war isn’t safe. There aren’t places to hide. Not forever. That’s why you are fighting. You’re fighting so your family doesn’t have to hide.

So you take a deep breath and swallow. You grab two daggers and hide them in your clothes as you see Adelia walk into a meeting. You see Alice and Frank Longbottom walk in and you smile. 

You greet and talk to all the older members of the order and pretend like you don’t notice McGonagall’s stares and some of the others looking at your hair.

You go to a muggle tattoo place and get a lioness on your shoulder. You can see Dorcas raise her eyebrow when she sees is and you shrug and kiss her again.

You go on your first mission and come back with a sprained wrist and a wound in your stomach. A scar to match a sprained wrist. They are quickly healed and you are sent back out.

You and Yumie, who is a potions master.

You both go out wands blazin’. But only one of you comes back. You come back, necklace on your neck and tears on your face. Soaked in blood. Yours and hers. Her body can’t be buried. You wouldn’t be able to find all the pieces in a hundred years. You are healed and new scars lay on your arms and legs and face and chest.

You clean up by you replace the blood in your hair with red dye and the soot is still there. The stained hair is still there crimson and mocking.

But you walk out and Dorcas holds you in the meeting and none of it matters because Yumie is dead and Lucas is dead and you never really get to see your family because you are always on missions. 

Dorcas stares at you one night as you lay under the itchy sheets. “We should run away.” She says and you stare at the ripped-up roof and a part of you wants to run and a part of you needs to stay. “Maybe. Maybe later.” You say and that’s the end of the conversation once more.

You still fight and you still come back bruised and bloody and every time your family looks at you, the few times they can, you don’t think they recognize you. Not fully at least. But you can’t blame them. Because you can’t feel emotions and you can’t see them and your bloody and bruised and scared and you might not be a mother and that dream might die with you. 

You may never get the life you want but you are fighting and living and then Regulus is dead and so are James’s parents.

You go to both funerals in black.

You could have saved Regulus. You could have. But you didn’t.

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You are 20. You are kissing Dorcas in ripped-up hotel rooms and taking care of Freya. You are still going on missions and Lily is pregnant. She and James are getting married and you are the maid of honor. 

Sirius is the best man. Peter and Remus stand by him. Mary and Dorcas are behind you as Lily and James say their vows.

Lily’s family might not be there and James’s parents are dead but they are there. Sirius, Remus, Peter, Mary, Dorcas, and you. You are all there with them. You all whistle and scream as they kiss and the crowd claps. 

You smile as they dance and you are dragged onto the dance floor and you spin around in Dorcas’s arms and Mary is dancing with Peter. Sirius and Remus are in the corner.

You go on a mission the next day with Adelia.

Spells are thrown and Bellatrix glares at you and you sigh. Because the spy told them where they are and you’re fucked. You throw another spell as you hide with Adelia behind a broken stone wall and spells are flying and a spell goes right by your nose.

Adelia pulls out a knife and stares at you and your eyes widen. “No.” Adelia gives you a wink as her white and pink hair flys in the wind. “Yes. Run. Get the stuff and go!” She screams as she runs into the storm and tears stream down your cheek.

You want to chase after her but then her doing so would be pointless and Dorcas would lose you now and Lily and James just got married. So you run away and grab the maps and soldier positions and member list and apparate away. 

You stare at Dumbledore covered in blood. Your breath is still dead girls’ last words and dead boys’ last wishes. But now they are Adelia’s command and your dying dreams and your dead hope and Dorcas’s lovely whispers.

You glare at him as you slam the papers on the table and walk to the locker room. You can feel the stares of the order. You walk into the locker room snatch a pair of clothes and place them by a shover. You take off your clothes into you are bare and step in.

You let the water wash over you and turn red, tinted by the blood. drip…… drip….. drip. You sigh as you stare at the wall as water pours over your face and you slowly start to shower. Start to scrub off the blood.

You pretend like Adelia didn’t yell at you to run as she gave up her life. No wand just a dagger. A dagger, fire in her veins, and stubbornness.

You walk out the door in new clothes and newly curled hair and painted lips and a new scar to match your other ones.

You sit at the table with the others with a fierce glare. There is a spy and everyone knows that but no one knows who. Any of these people could be a spy. But it couldn’t be Lily or James or Sirius or Dorcas or Mary or Peter or Remus because they were your friends and they were loyal and they would never betray you.

Your golden necklace from Yumie lays on your chest, cold. Just like your heart. The heart that had grown cold. The heart that is golden and cold and should have gold and warm and lively and happy and not cold.

You haven’t felt anyone’s emotions in a while. (You had built the walls too high. Far too high.) And maybe if you could you could tell who the spy was and make sure everyone was safe but you can’t.

But your veins are still fiery and you are still stubborn and you are still a storm and you are still a maybe-mother and so you stay. You don’t leave when Dorcas asks if you want to run away. You take your place on an order that might never be remembered. That might be for naught. But you take your wand and your fiery spirit and your golden, cold heart and you stand in that picture and you stand on the front lines. 

These people will have a hero. Even if it’s only for a year. Even if it costs you your life. Even if it is all for naught. That’s would be enough. That’s enough for you. 

Your dirty blonde curls are tied in a ponytail that you won’t let down and the tips are still red. Your cheeks now have permanent soot and dirt painted on them and you have eyebags tattooed underneath your eyes and you have the stupid leather jacket that you can still fit.

You stare with scars on your face and your arms and your legs and your chest and you raise your wand and a spell falls from your lips and your wand and light and the death eater is dead.

Your job is far from over. It will probably never be over.

Harry James Potter is born and Alice smiles and Sirius cracks a smirk and you laugh.

Till you can be a mother (if you live), you can be the best aunt you can be.

You will make sure this child has a world to live in. Because Freya needs a world and you need a world and everyone needs this world and you have always had a big heart.

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You are 21 and you are fighting for the order. You have saved people and healed people. You’ve been tortured and ruined. You still kiss Dorcas in ripped-up hotel rooms. You still are drunk on whiskey half the time. 

You hear a knock on your door and you shake your head at your mom. “Lo tengo, mamá.” You say as you stare in the hole of your door.

Wand in your hand. Peter stands there, alone.

“Walks on the black lake.” You say.

He stares at the hole. “Secrets and rumors fly through the river into the ears of little girls.” He says.

You open the door and look around. He stares at you. “I’m sorry.” He says and you stare at him. “What?” Bellatrix Lestrange and two death eaters appear behind him.

“Correr!” You exclaim behind you as you shoot off spells as you run through the house. 

Peter chases you down the halls. He was the traitor. He was supposed to be your friend and he lied.

He had been loyal and not to you or James or Lily or anyone else. Lily and James were doomed because of their lifetime friend. You could hear the screams of your mother and you gasp as you watch Freya fall to the ground dead.

You scream as Ash and Alisha fall and Lucia is dead and Neil and Cameron and your mother and your father and you’re the last one left.

You hold up your wand, blonde hair flying, red lips, and leather jacket as Peter points his wand at you.

Bellatrix and the two death eaters behind him.

“Close your eyes,” Peter says and you laugh. “ No . If you’re going to betray me. If you are going to kill me. You have to watch me. You have to watch my life fade from my body. You need to remember what I look like as I fall.” It will be painted in his eyelids.

Bellatrix laughs. “Giving up so soon?” She asks mockingly. “No, just giving him the rules.” You say before cutting the head of one of the death eaters off. 

You throw another spell at the other and they go up in flames. You duck under a Crucio as you press your emergency button. But it's too late as your cornered and there is no way out and you are crucio’d.

You fall to the ground and screams burst from your dry throat as your ribs break and you wither. Another group of death eaters appears and Travers is leading them. Your banners and posters are lit into flame as you see Bree, your stupid little cousin fall to the ground. Her blood moves like a river and straight onto you.

Your hair is a mess of soot and your family’s blood. Your lips are red and you are dying and Peter stares at you and his wand is pointed at your head. You weakly move up and put your head against his wand.

You stare at him straight in the eyes as you cough up blood and point your wand at backup death eaters. You blow them into pieces and once more it’s Peter and Bellatrix staring at you alone.

“Kill me, Peter. Kill your friend. Kill the person you swore loyalty to! But I will never leave your head. You’ll suffer for this!” You scream as the words Avada Kedavra spill from his lips and one last spell falls from your wand. You cut Bellatrix’s right lower leg straight off as your body hits the ground and your head bounces and.

You were told your life would flash in front of your eyes. But it’s just you and Dorcas laughing and smiling as you see white and you are dead. You are dead and your hopes are dead and your dreams are dead. It’s all dead and you will never get to help anyone ever again because that dies with you and your soul.

You are Marlene Mckinnon, 21-years-old and a dead soldier. You are female and a fighter, and a could-have-been mother. You fought in a world that hates you. Your name would be a legacy in the heart of another group of girls that fights and pranks and runs around a castle with laughter and smiles. You are not a character mentioned once and you are not useless. You are a dead woman with a legacy made out of red lipstick, curled hair, combat boots, a leather jacket, blood, and a wand.