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(This whole thing will be from Marlene’s POV btw)
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Quidditch? Probably not, I love it, but todays game was really testing my luck. James isn’t helping either, with his forced cheerfulness and somehow pessimistic pep talks. It’s infuriating.
It’s quite easy to tell that nobody wants to be here right now. This team has played through snow, hail, wind, and a bunch of other things muggles would have lost their shit over. Gryffindor would beat the opposing team no matter what. But this was the last straw.
It’s early April so while scientists and the annoying Easter signs on the bulletin board in Gryffindor common room may continusly insist it’s spring, I don’t buy it with all this sleet, hail, and snow Hogwarts has been getting. It’s ridiculous! This school’s weather is more inconsistent then half the kids here sleep schedule.
And of course since Wizards insist on being so optimistic and pleasant us poor unfortunate teenagers are forced to fly around on uncomfortable broomsticks and in most cases, toss around a huge red ball towards even bigger silver hoops. In my case, I have to try to find a minuscule golden ball before Slytherin’s seeker, Dorcas Meadowes does.
Unfortunately for me, Dorcas was incredibly good at her job. If Alice, Frank, and James weren’t such good chasers the team would certainly lose almost every game. Dorcas has this way of floating with the broom so it doesn’t look like she’s flying the broom, but the broom is simply an accessory while she flies.
The most impressive thing has to be her moves. Not that I pay attention to her during a match, of course, but she’s amazing! Watching her zigzagging with uncontrollable speed and purpose towards the snitch is a sight to see, honestly. Must be her glasses that bring out the sparkle in her eyes that let her see it so well.
By the time my sorry team reaches the middle of the field so James and Lucius can shake hands and we can finally get on with this, my over the top robes are soaked through and my school broom would’ve given me at least 3 splinters if it wasn’t for the gloves each seeker has. Mine are to tight to be comfortable and I’m to busy focusing on that detail of quidditch to hear Madam Hooch’s whistle blow.
Or maybe it was just the wind that carried the sound to short a way so it only reached my teammates. Either way, Slytherin and Gryffindor are in the air and flying by the time I realize I should be too.
Kicking off from the muddy ground and subsequently spraying Madam Hooch with mud, I start to skirt the edges of the field looking for gold. I’m so focused, I really think I see it, before looking at the bigger picture and registering with myself that it’s the stupid kiss cam professor McGonagall installed 3 years ago when I was a Second Year.
It was supposed to be something fun and normal and look like a camera but apparently James and Sirius got a hold of it before this game, so now it looks like Cupid and a rainbow made love and had a child out of it. Covered in the gold I saw, pink and red hearts, and white ribbons it’s really a truly atrocious sight to behold in the middle of what seems to building up to a thunderstorm.
I need to have a talk with James and Sirius about what and how to vandalize later, if Lily doesn’t get to them first. I wouldn’t mind, I learned my best from her.
I continue scouting the pitch, my brain keeping track of the score in some far corner of my mind that isn’t already occupied by searching. Gryffindor is ahead 70-30, so now would be a great time to find the stupid snitch and end this wretched match.
Checking my watch, I can see we’re already 30 minutes into the game. Where did the time go? Probably stolen by Dorcas, Slytherin’s seeker. For the past (maybe) 10 minutes she’s been following me around, watching my moves. I’ve half a mind to pull a Wronskie Feint on her and just nose dive, but 1: this broom could never manage that 2: she could get hurt
Wait
Who cares if she gets hurt? I shake my head, silently reprimanding my brain for caring about a Slytherin, much more my enemy. Or self declared enemy. I don’t really know if she knows I exist but I’ve had something against her since she took my spot on the Hogwarts express in 1st year. Glad she did though, or I never would have met Mary and Lily. And then they might not have met each other, which would be a real shame for Hogwarts gossip magazine as the story featuring them dating boosted reading by 47%.
I’m getting distracted again. I must focus on the match if I want this miserable weather to disappear under the roof of a cozy warm common room. Speeding away from Dorcas as fast as this crappy broom will allow, I’m slightly aware of something else following me.
The Kiss Cam.
Can’t a girl catch a break? It had first targeted me only 4 months ago before Christmas with Remus of all people. A gay man and lesbian. We had good platonic chemistry (which is what it goes off of) so I can see where it’s coming from, but it’s apparent that it does not have a functioning gaydar. Or at least a good one.
I’d fly faster away from it if I could, I swear, but stupid speed magic on it and stupid hand me down school broom we’re against me that day.
As it got closer, I could see my bored face reflecting on the big screen. I seemed to looked how I felt, that being hungry, bored, and slightly curious. Trying to ignore it, I continued my attempt to end this stupid match when gold caught my eye again.
Unfortunately, ‘twas not the snitch, but Dorcas’ hexagon shaped, wire rimmed rose gold glasses. I only knew that because it was on the screen, definitely not because I was looking at her stunning brown eyes earlier. No. Wait. What stunning brown eyes?
I was so caught up in my thoughts of Dorcas’ eyes, not like that, mind you, that it took a moment to fully grasp that it was Dorcas’ face on the kiss cam. Dorcas’ face that was now incredibly close to mine, I now realize.
But Dorcas? Why her?
Couldn’t be because just this morning when both teams had gotten up at the crack of dawn I was throwing
glances glares at her over my toast and eggs. Very threatening glares as well! Not desperate glances, as Lily would describe it because despite what James Potter would have you believe Lily is a hopeless romantic who’s way to invested in my love life.
And it definitely couldn’t be because in Charms class she had congratulated me on my Color Change charm and I had become redder than a ripe tomato.
And it most certainly couldn’t be because everytime she showed up late for a match, or a party, or class, or something I would hold the door for her! Or anything she was at, I don’t watch her schedule! Well, only for research purposes. To beat her! In this match! It’s Lily’s job anyways. Gods, she would use this whole inner talk to justify her enemies to lovers trope she has laid out for me and Dorcas. I didn’t encourage that, so you know.
And I mean, what are the chances it could be because Dorcas looked as desperate to kiss me as I felt? Probably as high as Remus on any open Saturday, actually.
Dorcas was staring at me now. Intensely. I haven’t had this much gay panic since 2nd year when Narcissa Black, a 5th year at the time, dyed her hair blonde. Don’t tell Sirius I said that. But back to Dorcas, as my thoughts seemed to do.
I could see every shade of brown in her eyes, she was so close. Her broom was next to mine, both of them somehow hovering. I could feel the crowd holding its breathe. Oh! Right! Breath.
Breathe Marlene. Breathe.
Her lips are far to close to mine. I could see the shine from whatever lip gloss she used this morning, I could count every eyelash, I could kiss her. I so badly wanted to. The crowd is starting to get impatient.
I don’t know how much time has gone by before she leans forward. Pulling me close, it feels like she’s electrified my heartbeat and amplified it across the stadium. Brushing her lips against mine and slowly drawing them to my ears, I can barely hear her when she whispered
“You do know what the kiss cam is for, right?”
Then she’s reaching behind me, and I thought she was going to kiss me again, I so badly wanted her to, but before I can react she pulls the snitch from behind me.
“Better luck next time.”
And I can see her wink behind the lens of her glasses and pull away before I truly grasp what just happened.
Then Slytherin is cheering and Dorcas is doing her floating thing to the middle of the pitch to be supported by her teammates. And I’m still wondering how I just had the most amazing, sweet, soft, did I mention amazing first kiss with the girl of my dreams who was then torn away from me.
“Marlene! What the bloody hell was that!” James yells, snapping me out of the loop that’s started to play in my mind of Dorcas’ eyes and her hexagon rose-gold wire rimmed glasses. Oops. Yeah, James would be mad about this. Stupid potter and his rich family and good broom, I couldn’t fly away from him anymore than a muggle could run from a dragon.
“Did you just let yourself be bloody seduced by the opposing team?!”
“I WASNT seduced.”
“Don’t kid yourself.”
I can hear the anger in his tone. It’s justified, and he’s probably right anyways. I bite back the urge to suggest if it was Regulus James’ would’ve done the same thing.
Ugh. What had I become? Falling for a girl I was so determined to defeat and hate the beginning of this match? No. Unacceptable.
“I’m sorry James. Really. But I didn’t know what to do.” This was me trying to make a sorry excuse but it doesn’t really matter to him. He rolls his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh just to rub it in before motioning me to fly down to the pitch with him.
At the pitch, Lucius is yelling at Dorcas for something I can’t hear, and Lily is screaming running towards me. I want to break down, cry, and tell her she was right the whole time but I also want to pretend nothing happened and join in with Lily’s hopeless romantic ideals. It seems like a good plan.
“Oh, I was right! I was right Marlene, wasn’t I? You two fancy each other! You should have seen your face. Mary’s ecstatic by the way, you’ll have to give her all the details. Oh, and…” Lily just keeps talking. She’s like that sometimes, for worse or for better.
It hurts to interrupt her planning to turn all of Hogwarts gay, but it must be done if I plan to drown myself in the grimy showers of the changing rooms.
“Lils, that sounds amazing, it really does. But I have to change. I’ll be back soon.”
Stripping my soaked quidditch robes and hanging them up near the showers, I grab my normal robes and pray to Jesus and Hera alike that none of my teammates have messed with them. One of them must’ve answered because only someone’s orange cat hair is on them.
It’s always nice to get lost in the steam of the showers, now even more than usual. I swear I really did try to drown Dorcas from my thoughts, but alas Cupid refused to remove whatever arrow had struck my heart so I just gave up somewhere around the 30 minute mark. Dorcas was just to addictive.
Of course, I had a somber common room to attend to, so I dried off as fast as I could once I finished wallowing in my self inflicted sorrow of both losing the game and what I now considered the love of my life.
I’d almost forgotten the upcoming storm during the game, so when I got outside the cold was more of a shock then Gryffindor losing to Slytherin.
Trying to position my robes (who made these without hoods?) so my hair didn’t get more soaked, I prepared to run up the hill towards the inevitable pity party that would be the common room. I was so prepared, before I heard a familiar sweet voice from my left.
“Need an umbrella?”