Chapter Text
Monday, September 2nd, 1974. Marlene McKinnon.
At the beginning of this year, there had been three of them. Three inseparable girls, almost attached at the hip since they first met; Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, and Lily Evans. Together, they had most fourth-year Gryffindors wrapped around their fingers, willing to do anything for them (though Lily said that using “popularity” to get your way wasn’t entirely ethical). When they had all returned for third year, it was clear that Mary would definitely get the most love-letters from hopeless boys whom she never even looked at for more than three seconds. Lily was kind, and smart, and beautiful, and already had a boy pining for her since second year. Marlene didn’t quite know why she, herself, got any attention, but she didn’t enjoy it very much.
Although they were three very pretty girls, underneath Mary’s hair puffs and makeup, Lily’s ginger curls and freckles, and Marlene’s bleached hair and heavy eyeliner, were just three girls trying to get through their teenage years. The fact that all anyone saw in them was merely a pretty face only made it so much harder. Sure, they had each other, but if Marlene could get one day where she wasn’t looked at, she definitely would.
She sat next to Mary, with Lily across from them, at their first breakfast of fourth year. Yesterday was a tedious night, with the train ride which seemed to go forever, moving into their dormitories, and the lengthy sorting ceremony for the first years (“They ought to make it separate from dinner,” said Mary, resting her head on her clenched fist and picking at the wooden table, “I’m starving !”). Most everyone’s breakfast was sitting untouched on their plates, everybody quick to catch up with their friends, discussing boys they met in the summer, family trips, and, oh , how much they missed everyone. Marlene had spent most of her summer back home in Ireland, dancing to Abba with her adoptive family almost every night. They had paid a month-long visit to the Philippines, so Marlene could renew the flowers on her parents’ graves, but she didn’t want to bring the mood down, so she didn’t mention that part to Mary, who had met a “cute muggle boy” on her trip to Canada.
“Marls, I think I’m in love!” she wailed, burying her face in her hands, “Oh, how I regret not asking for his address… how will we keep in touch?”
As Mary was reenacting her tragedy, Lily’s nose was already buried in a book. Marlene and Lily had met up a couple of times over the summer, as only the year before did they fully realise that they both stayed with their respective families in Ireland during holidays. The two of them spent a lovely night walking around in a field of flowers, the stars above them shining and painting a picture only visible to the most creative of minds.
Slowly, they began to finally eat their breakfasts, only engaging in the occasional smalltalk, when Mary appreciated the taste of her pancakes, and Lily bothered to look up from her book, by some Muggle author Marlene didn’t know.
From slightly further down the table, came Remus Lupin, a copy of Osar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray in hand. With his leg swinging over the seat, he made himself comfortable in the empty spot next to Lily. He brushed golden-brown curls out of his eyes, briefly revealing a small scar on his forehead in the process.
“They’re being gits,” he said simply, snapping the book open. It was clear who he was talking about; James Potter and Sirius Black were undoubtedly staring at Remus, almost apologetic looks on their faces (their empathy wasn’t a very common occurrence). Next to them, Peter Pettigrew sat staring at his plate, head down, seemingly unaware of whatever happened.
“What’d they do this time?” asked Lily, her full attention finally on something other than her book.
“Er… something about me never talking about girls. I dunno,” Remus replied, squirming in his seat. He may not have been talking about girls, but, God, were girls talking about him. It was only their second day back, and already, Marlene must’ve heard his name a total of five hundred times. Sure, he had gotten taller, but she really didn’t see the appeal. She never did, really. Not even with Sirius Black. Mary, as well as every other girl in the Gryffindor house, had a crush on him in second year, and Marlene had to endure every second of it. Maybe hearing how cute and hot he was day and night for a whole year ruined him for her. Or maybe it was his utter arrogance and refusal to admit that anything he does is wrong.
***
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. They were given the entire evening to themselves to move in, catch up, and get used to being back at school. The next day, Tuesday the third, lessons would commence and the sweet bliss of freedom would leave them forevermore.
Marlene, Mary, Lily, and Alice Prewett (whom they shared a dorm with), were escaping the wrath of “the Marauders” (as they called themselves) upstairs, in their room. Posters were going back on walls, bedside tables were once more being cluttered with picture frames and books, and wardrobes were being stuffed with clothes. Even so far from the common room, the sound of Sirius’ new vinyl record could be heard clear as day. Apparently, his cousin had bought him it, and he just needed to make all of Gryffindor Tower listen to… Daniel Bowie? David Baker? Marlene wasn’t entirely sure, but if Sirius repeated the song “ Starman ” one more time, she might have gone insane.
As Lily was organising her bookshelf, and Alice and Mary were giggling about Alice’s first encounter this year with Frank Longbottom, Marlene excused herself and climbed down the stairs, immediately regretting it as she heard the first impromptu “party” of the year.
“To another year of the Marauders, lads!” Sirius held up a mug of butterbeer, as if making a toast. James cheered the loudest, and Peter and Remus did so hesitantly, clearly minding the unwanted attention of the rest of Gryffindor house. Marlene, passing by, didn't go unnoticed.
“Alright, McKinnon?” James called out, after gulping down his entire mug of butterbeer in one go.
“Alright,” she replied, stopping to look at their celebration, “What’s that?” she nodded at the record player, as Sirius pranced around to whatever song was playing now.
“Ziggy Stardust,” Remus replied, “Bowie,”
“He’s magical!” called Sirius. He ran up behind Remus and grabbed him by the shoulders, directing him to stand up and dance. Remus hopped up reluctantly, a certain sparkle appearing in his eyes as Sirius’ hand held his and they horribly waltzed around the room. Their little corner of the room erupted in laughter, no-one caring what anyone else thought of them. James began jumping around at the chorus, embracing the boys as they all sang together.
Feeling the beat of the music, Marlene couldn’t refuse joining in with the dancing, and swung one hand around James’ shoulders, swaying with him until the final beats of the song played, and the record stopped spinning. The four of them collapsed onto any armchair or couch within distance, laughing in unison and panting as if they just ran a marathon. Though Marlene wasn’t very close with the boys (other than James, who was seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, as Marlene was chaser), they still felt like brothers during moments like these. During moments they could all appreciate their youth, creeping away as the seasons changed. Peter sat quietly beside them, not making a noise.
“What’s the matter, Pete?” said Sirius, quirking an eyebrow, “Don’t like Bowie?”
Peter chuckled in response, squirming as Sirius tousled his hair. All eyes looked up as Lily entered the common room, a confused look instantly covering her face as she noticed the group, “What’s up with you guys?” she said, approaching closer, “you all look mad,”
“The power of Bowie, Evans,” Sirius raised an arm to emphasise his words. James, upon noticing Lily’s presence, led a hand through his curly hair, obviously trying to impress her with his ravishing good looks. Lily always rolled her eyes at his efforts, but at the end of third year, and especially now, her cheeks became unusually rosy whenever James made his pathetic attempts at flirting. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that something was beginning to stir between them; as long as James didn’t give up, neither would Lily.
***
Tuesday, September 3rd. 1974. Marlene McKinnon.
Marlene could see gaps of sunlight through the blinds of one of the small windows. She had never been an early riser, but the excitement of starting the new school year struck something in her. She would make so many new memories, and mourn over others. Those memories, good or bad, would stick with her as long as she lived, glimpses of her youth coming back to her even in adulthood. She ought to enjoy her youth before it's in pieces, but the future would never exit her mind. The words what then? circled her thoughts constantly, and she wished she could just live in the moment. The first moment of her day started with getting dressed and climbing down to breakfast, so she did just that.
Hogwarts castle was quiet during this time of day. Her alarm clock signified that it was just past five in the morning, and barely a soul roamed the corridors. Everyone who was awake at this hour was either barely functioning in the commonrooms, crawling to the Great Hall for breakfast, or (if you were James Potter), flying a lap around the Quidditch pitch. Marlene still didn’t know how he did it. How he had so much energy so early in the day.
The corridors slowly led Marlene to the Great Hall, doors swung open, emitting the smell of hundreds of breakfast foods, already waiting for the students. There were only a few people inside, and a quick scan of the room landed her eyes on someone she had had a rivalry with since they first met, on the Quidditch pitch in second year.
There she was: Dorcas Meadowes. Fourth year. Beater for the Slytherin Quidditch team. Marlene’s rivalry with her was unspoken, of course, but both of them were undoubtedly aware of it. Every second of eye contact on the field, every moment alone in the dressing room after a match, and every glare across the Great Hall before a game.
Dorcas drove Marlene completely mental. How she made everything look so easy. How she effortlessly destroyed every other Quidditch team (except Gryffindor, of course). How she kept in touch with her femininity without losing any respect.
Though she didn’t want to admit it, Marlene envied her.
Before she realised she was staring, Marlene found Dorcas looking up, their eyes meeting across the Great Hall. Immediately, Marlene averted her gaze and made way to the Gryffindor table, anticipating the moment when she would be once again blessed by her friends’ presence. She purposefully sat with her back toward the Slytherin table, hoping to avoid any glances stolen by Dorcas.
Half an hour later, James waltzed into the Great Hall, looking as though he had been awake since the crack of dawn, which, admittedly, was most likely true.Too tired to deal with the bubble of energy that James was, Marlene kept her head down, eyes plastered on her toast. Of course, she did that in vain, because you can never escape from a 6am conversation with James Potter.
“Alright, Marlene?” he said, jogging over to sit across from her.
“Yeah, mate,” she said in a flat voice, “spectacular,”
“You’ve gotta join me for a fly one of these days,” he put his own piece of toast onto a plate, and began spreading marmalade across it, “really helps you wake up,”
“Mm, maybe” she murmured.
After a short pause of awkward silence, James began to speak again, “D’ya know if anyone else is up yet?”
Marlene pondered for a moment, glancing at her wrist-watch, “Er… Lily might be at the library, I’m not sure,”
“Perfect,”
And with that, James sprung up, toast still in hand, and pranced out of the door. God, he was so into Lily, it was actually sort of embarrassing to witness. It was previously established that Lily was starting to reciprocate James’ feelings, but it was only a matter of time before at least one of them got hurt, either through a misunderstanding, or a month-long relationship, or both. But who was Marlene to judge? She'd never had a crush before; she remembered so clearly in first year, picking a random Gryffindor boy to "like". She wanted so desperately to fit in somewhere … she and her family look nothing alike, and it was her one chance at being "normal". That's what it felt like, anyway; she now knew both her family and friends loved her very dearly, but, still, that feeling crept back at her every once in a while.
Around fifteen minutes later, the Great Hall was starting to fill up, and Mary, alongside Lily, came to join Marlene. A few steps behind were James and the Marauders (as usual, James and Sirius were engaged in… to say the least loud conversation, Remus was pretending not to find them hilarious, and Peter was completely detached from reality). With the way Lily kept glancing at James and tucking her hair behind her ear, it was obvious they had talked in the library, where Marlene directed him.
"Lily…" began Marlene in a suggestive voice, "wanna tell us what happened with you and James?"
"He just visited me in the library!"
"To snog?" piped up Mary.
"No!" said Lily, loudly, before continuing in a whisper, "Remus was there too!"
"To watch you snog?"
"Gross!"
"Well… your demeanour changed, Lils. What happened to the girl who despised James Fleamont Potter ," Marlene enunciated his name, loudly enough that the group of boys would hear her, "and his pathetic pick-up lines?"
"Hush!" Lily raised her hands, as if physically pushing Marlene's volume down, "I guess… I don't know. He's sweet."
Mary exaggerated a gasp, "Did you, Lily Evans, just call James Potter ," she also made sure his name was the loudest, " sweet? Why, this is something to celebrate!"
Lily groaned "Look! He just helped me carry my books… and made me laugh… I don't know,"
At the appearance of blush on Lily's cheeks, Mary and Marlene exchanged looks. Unbelievable. Lily Evans was verbally expressing her attraction to James Potter.
Though it was fun teasing Lily, Marlene still felt a pair of eyes glued to the back of her head, and she was afraid that, if she turned around, she would find Dorcas Meadowes. But why on earth would Dorcas be staring at her? It was just wishful thinking. Marlene snapped out of it. Wishing for what ?
***
Of course, the first lesson of the day had to be Potions. And of course, the only empty seat left was next to Dorcas Meadowes. She sat there, spinning her quill between her fingers, staring down at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Would she remember the awkward millisecond of eye contact the previous morning? If so, would she pay any mind to it? Marlene glanced at James, who was nothing if not aware of her ongoing feud with Dorcas, having witnessed it at so many Quidditch games; he was already looking in her direction, snickering as if this lesson would be the funniest thing in the world, going downhill as soon as Marlene was to sit down. Grimacing at him in response, Marlene took a few steps forward and placed her bookbag on the floor next to the wooden stool, covered in cracks and splinters (all of the furniture and equipment in this classroom seemed to be ancient; Marlene wouldn’t be surprised if it was older than Professor Slughorn–who stood at the front of the classroom, messily scribbling something on the chalkboard–or even the school itself). Not even daring to look to her right, where Dorcas suddenly stiffened, now holding the quill perfectly still in her hands, Marlene brushed off the back of her skirt and sat down.
Each potion-brewing station in the room consisted of two stools, a cauldron, and several little flasks for storing ingredients of sampling potions. There were two stations for one decently-sized wooden table (sharing an equal amount of splinters with the stools), and across from Marlene and Dorcas were Lily and Severus Snape. Lily was tilting away from Severus, chin cupped in the palm of her hand, and a dissatisfied expression on her face. Maybe she was finally starting to see that he wasn’t a pleasant person to be around.
“You know, Lily,” Snape said, pretending that she cares for whatever he has to say, “this school has really gone down the drain. They let most anyone in,” he furrowed a brow, suddenly aware of who he was talking to, “not in that way, Lils.”
“Don’t call me that,” Lily said, not looking back at him.
“But your friends call you that, don’t they?”
“I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about.”
James, sitting at the station behind Lily, snapped around and called out: “Hey, Lils , any idea what lesson we have after this?”
Sirius, James’ forever protégé added to the banter: “Hey, Lils , wanna sit with us at lunch?” He elbowed James, “James would be thrilled .” That earned him a playful shove to the shoulder.
Snape moved in closer to Lily, “Don’t listen to them, you don’t need them.” To this, Lily remained silent, because before she could groan or even roll her eyes, Professor Slughorn turned around, addressing the class.
“Welcome, students, to your fourth-year Potions class at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” he spoke slowly, but his voice was laying out the words as if they were being spread like butter on a piece of toast, “This year, we shall cover the brewing of antidotes, which you will revisit in your seventh year, as well as many other potions such as,” he paused, talking to the left of his desk, “Wit-Sharpening Potion, Skele-Gro, Amortentia,” he winked at the table closest to him, at which a group of girls of mixed houses sat, “and as many more.”
Slughorn twisted his greying moustache (it still had spots of ginger in it, but it was quite obvious that he was an aged man). He began explaining the first task of their school year, which was to brew the Wit-Sharpening Potion, as a pair with the person sitting next to you. Oh great, not only did Marlene have to strain her neck in order to not look at Dorcas, but she had to work collaboratively with her? Couldn’t Slughorn make the first class of the year a theory lesson? He gave a quick demonstration of how to brew the potion, and directed them to their textbooks, leaving them to fend for themselves. When he stopped talking, an awkward silence fell over Marlene’s side of the table.
“Er… right, so,” Dorcas inhaled, reading from the textbook, “ Ginger roots. Armadillo bile. Ground Scarab beetle… pretty sure that's it.”
“Okay,” Marlene said shortly. “I can get it all, you start reading the instructions.” With a stern face, she rose from her seat, and began searching for the ingredients. If she had to do this, she would do it with as little conversation as possible. Something about Dorcas Meadowes irritated Marlene. When she looked at her, it felt like Dorcas knew all of her darkest secrets; it was like she was fully aware of all of Marlene’s insecurities. As far as Marlene was aware, there was no real reason for this loathing… it was just there , and she couldn’t do anything about it.
Around fifteen minutes into their potion-brewing, Slughorn began wandering around the class, rewarding students he thought were doing well with an approving look, or perhaps a short “well done,” and students he thought were doing terribly with the raise of an eyebrow, or otherwise nothing at all. As he walked towards Marlene’s table, he peered into Lily’s cauldron, and his plump facial features contorted into an almost impressed expression, “Well done, Lily!” He looked to the left of her, “and Severus.” He passed Marlene’s and Drocas’ cauldron without a word.
Marlene and Dorcas only shared brief conversation across the lesson. Marlene did ponder whether she was addressing her too harshly, but didn’t stop her behaviour. It was clear that Dorcas wanted for the two of them to be civil, but Marlene just… didn’t know how. It was hard to let go of a grudge, even if there was no particular reason for it. After a few lengthy moments of silence, Dorcas raised her head from the work, and turned around to Marlene.
“Why do you hate me?” She said, sharply, “Even this morning, in the Great Hall… I could feel you staring daggers.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Marlene, avoiding Dorcas’ gaze.
“Don’t play dumb, McKinnon. If you’re going to play this game, get a new Potions partner.”
“Well, it’s not like this is forever, is it?” said Marlene, “You’ll survive.”
As if on cue, Slughorn once again addressed the class: “Oh, I forgot to mention,” he said, “you will be partnered with the person next to you until Christmas break, which means these are your assigned seats for the time being.”
Dorcas raised her eyebrows, “At least try to be nice. Or indifferent. Whatever.”
The two of them barely spoke for the rest of the lesson, all the way to cleaning up their station, and piling out of the classroom. Marlene chewed her lip as she was about to follow her friends to their next class. Making up her mind, she spinned around, and caught Dorcas before she disappeared around the corridor.
“Why don’t you hate me?” she said, looking Dorcas in the eyes for the first time since before breakfast.
“Do I have reason to?”