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“Dorcas!” she hears a voice call over the pounding of music. Merlin, that might be the first time anybody has acknowledged her presence tonight. Pros of tagging along to a Gryffindor party: crazy amounts of alcohol. Cons: as a Slytherin, hardly anybody knows her. Surprisingly, nobody really cares about her being here, but they certainly aren’t indulging in conversations either.
Dorcas turns to see none other than Remus Lupin, dragging a slightly tipsy-looking Marlene McKinnon in tow as Sirius trails behind them both.
“Remus,” she acknowledges. Her and Remus have spoken a handful of times; she runs into him in the library often. Dorcas isn’t one to strike up conversation, but she’d seen him enough times to build up a begrudging respect for his diligence to his studies. She wouldn’t say they’re best mates, but they’re on first name basis, which is rare for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin.
Remus hands a grumbling Marlene over to her. “Let me introduce you to our good mate: Marlene McKinnon. Marlene, Dorcas.”
“We’re acquainted, thank you very much,” Marlene says, snatching her arm away from Remus’ grip.
“She’s interrupting Sirius and mines alone time,” Remus tells Dorcas in a dramatic whisper. Dorcas just nods.
“Want a drink?” Dorcas offers, holding her cup of Butterbeer up to Marlene. She’d (somewhat regrettably) indulged in most of the stronger drinks earlier on in the night, now leaving her to nurse a Butterbeer for the remainder, lest she end up completely black out drunk.
Marlene eyes it suspiciously. “Sirius, you go first,” she says.
“Oh, I’m over alcohol,” Sirius says with a dramatic sigh. “Never letting a drop of that touch my lips again.”
“Prefer it when I’m in control of my own mind, thank you very much,” Remus agrees.
“Besides,” Sirius says with a laugh, “it’s way funnier watching your mates get pissed when you’re fully sober. For example, there’s James making an absolute arse out of himself to my baby brother,” he smirks, jerking his chin in the direction of the one and only James Potter, talking to Regulus in a wildly animated way, cup of Merlin-knows-what-alcohol in hand.
Marlene snorts, and Dorcas can’t help but smile. After all his hallway pranks and pompous jokes, she doesn’t mind seeing Potter make a right fool of himself.
He says something to Regulus, who launches into a fit of coughing, pounding on his chest with his fist as he stares at James in disbelief. At this moment, James happens to glance across the room, making eye contact with Sirius, and his face lights up even more than before.
“Ah, Dorcas, Marlene,” Remus begins apologetically, grabbing Sirius by the wrist, “I think that’s our cue to leave.”
Sirius protests for a second, until he spies James across the room, thrusting his drink towards a still coughing Regulus and stumbling towards them.
“McKinnon, Meadowes—I’m afraid our time here is up,” he says with a bright smile.
Remus drags Sirius off into the crowds, and they disappear, leaving Marlene and Dorcas stood face to face. Although they’re certainly ‘acquainted’ as put by Marlene, Dorcas can’t ever recall having a full conversation with her, so this is certainly new.
Marlene nods to break the tension. “Fancy seeing you here,” she says.
Dorcas nods too. “Yeah.”
They’re both silent.
“No, like, actually—how’d you manage to crash a Gryffindor party?”
“Oh.” Dorcas downs the rest of her Butterbeer, placing the cup on a table next to her. “James invited Regulus. Said he could bring all his mates along too, so yeah. Here I am.”
Marlene studies her for a second. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I’m ninety-nine-percent sure James has a raging crush on Regulus.”
Dorcas chokes. “I thought he liked Lily?” she says.
Marlene just shrugs. “Reckon he thought that too,” she says with a grin. “Dense as a brick, so he is.”
“Well, if that’s the case…” Dorcas trails off. “I’m ninety-nine-percent sure Regulus has a raging crush on James,” she admits.
Marlene just laughs. “Makes you really wonder what they were just talking about, doesn’t it?”
Dorcas smiles nervously. At that exact moment, the one and only James smashes right into Marlene, his apparently newfound cup of alcohol completely saturating her.
“Not the fucking Daisyroot, Potter!” Marlene cries in disbelief, shoving him away as the dark liquid seeps into her shirt.
“Ah, fuck, sorry!” he says, eyes wide.
Marlene sighs. “It’s fine,” she says, lifting the bottom of her shirt to wring it out.
James looks uncertain, but he nods slowly. “Sorry,” he says again. “I’ll do your Charms homework for you next week,” he says apologetically, before wandering off—probably in search of a refill.
Marlene gives Dorcas a wry smile. “See, he’s not that bad.” Then she stares down at her soaked shirt, wrinkling her brow in distaste. “Meadowes, gimmes your jacket, would you?”
As a matter of fact, Dorcas really likes this jacket. It’s leather—the nice sort—and Regulus bought it for her over the break just gone. She also particularly hates Daisyroot (who doesn’t?) and she doesn’t need that getting all over it.
“Just cast a Hot Air Charm,” Dorcas protests.
“Not doing any magic when I’m this sloshed,” Marlene says with a snort. “Last time that happened… Well, you don’t even wanna know.”
Dorcas doesn’t know what happened, and she has a feeling that Marlene is right—she doesn’t want to. So, yes—a perfectly valid point, although Dorcas still isn’t that willing to give up her jacket.
“I’ll cast it,” she attempts, reaching for her wand, but Marlene just rolls her eyes.
“You’re sloshed too. Just gimme the jacket, yeah? I’ll get it all squeaky clean for you after tonight, when I’ve recovered from whatever hangover I’ll have.”
Dorcas hesitates. And then Marlene’s saying:
“Meadowes, why do you hate me?”
Well, Dorcas wasn’t expecting that. She opens her mouth to give an answer, except the only thing she can say is, “I don’t.” And surprisingly, she realises, it’s true.
Marlene arches an eyebrow, staring at her disbelievingly. “You give me the stink eye every time we pass in the halls and turn your nose up whenever we’re Potions partners.”
“Well…” Dorcas trails off. “I don’t know,” she admits. “All my dormmates hate Gryffindors. And all my friends sort of hated your bunch too, until recently. I guess it just… rubbed off on me.”
“Okay,” Marlene says with a nonchalant shrug. “Sounds fair enough. Now, I’d say an apology for all that unjust treatment is in order, and as a material girl, I would quite fancy your jacket.”
Ah, the good old fashioned guilt trip. So, that's where that'd been going. Dorcas caves.
“Fine,” she relents, pulling her jacket off her shoulders, extending it out to Marlene. Instead of taking it right out, though, Marlene starts to take her shirt off, lifting the hem to expose the soft skin of her midriff, and nope. Dorcas’ hand shoots out to catch Marlene’s wrist. “What’re you doing?” she demands.
Marlee gives her an incredulous look. “Taking my shirt off,” she says slowly. “D’you think I’m going to wear your lovely leather jacket on top of my Daisyroot-soaked shirt? I’m not that barbaric.”
“Here?” Dorcas says, gesturing towards the raging party around them. Dorcas appreciates her confidence, but in the middle of an alcohol-filled party surrounded by drunken teenagers? No.
“Okay, okay, fair point,” Marlene says with a sigh. “Accompany me to my dorm?” she asks with a bright smile.
Dorcas wonders how kindly the other Gryffindor girls would take to her setting foot in their dorm, but Marlene just swats her on the arm.
“C’mon, just make sure I don’t get kidnapped along the way, yeah?”
Dorcas shoulders her jacket. “Fine,” she relents. “Lead the way.”
Marlene drags her through the crowd, slipping into the Gryffindor girl’s dormitories, and closing the door quietly behind her. Dorcas stands awkwardly. Then Marlene strips her soaking top off over her head, the line of her cleavage slightly spilling out over her bra, and— Oh, fuck. Dorcas is staring right at her tits. Worse than that: she can’t look away, either.
Dorcas has seen tits before. In magazines. Pictures. Just… not in real life. All of her dormmates are the snobbish, rich pureblood sort, who value their privacy above anything else, and act like the smallest display of even near nudity is simply primitive. And of course, she’s gone swimming with Pandora before, but Pandora is a lithe little thing, and besides, they’ve been friends for years.
So, yes—maybe in her whole sixteen years of life, Dorcas Meadowes has never quite seen someone else’s breasts before. Maybe she’s seeing them for the first time right now, and maybe they’re a lot fucking better than she’s ever known.
Marlene pauses, dripping shirt still in one hand as she stares at Dorcas.
“You’re looking at my boobs,” she says. Ah yes, straight to the point.
Dorcas finds sudden interest in the Gryffindor bed drapes. “No, I’m not!” she says defensively.
Marlene snorts. “You definitely were.” After a moment of thinking, she adds, “It’s alright—they kinda look like eyes.”
“What the fuck?”
“Hey, you were the one staring.”
Dorcas splutters indignantly, all though there’s not much dignity left for her anyway. “Just… take my fucking jacket, McKinnon,” she says finally, pulling it off and tossing it to the other girl. Marlene catches it with ease.
After quickly drying herself off with a t-shirt strewn on the floor (not that Dorcas is looking), she tugs the jacket on. It’s a loose fit, but it’s just that bit tighter on Marlene than it is on Dorcas. She pulls the zipper up, and Dorcas does not stare at the V-neck opening where it doesn’t quite close fully. Not at all.
“Back to the party!” Marlene says cheerfully. Dorcas squeaks, and Marlene sighs, suddenly looking sympathetic. “Honestly, Meadowes, it’s fine. Happens to the best of us, I think. You should’ve seen little third year Marlene when Lily Evans walked out of the bathrooms after forgetting her towel.”
Dorcas swallows. She feels a bit like an unintentional creep, but Marlene seems to know she didn’t mean anything by it. “Right. Sorry.”
Marlene waves off her apology, smiling. “You’re fine. Like I said: happens to the best of us.”
“We’re certainly on speaking terms now, aren’t we?” Dorcas says mildly.
Marlene laughs. “Beyond that if you ask me, Meadowes, but yes.”
“Alright then.” That’s fine with Dorcas.
(Maybe more than fine.)
“Now, accompany me back outside?” Marlene says, extending her hand in offering.
Dorcas takes it.