Chapter Text
The new fad in London's wizarding society were gossip columns. There was something for all tastes, from the most scandalous accounts to those that didn’t even mention a name, leaving to speculation the task of finding the truth in the vague descriptions reported, but the ladies’ favourite was undoubtedly The Queen of the Quills. The mysterious newspaper arrived on the doorstep of every witch from Westminster to Dalston three months earlier, and for two weeks it was distributed unbidden every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, until the author started to demand the outrageous price of five Knuts a paper. Marlene admired the meddlesome woman’s savvy: by the time she forced the people to pay for her curious mix of commentary, social news, scathing insults and occasional compliments, everyone was so addicted they forked over their money without a single complaint. In her most recent edition, for example, she gave quite a good account of the Malfoy’s ball, mentioning who was talking to whom, what everyone wore and how dreadful Mrs. Walburga Black looked in purple, but the best bit was about her disowned eldest son, Sirius. The handsome rake left London six years earlier after a furious quarrel with his parents, but apparently his extensive travels in Africa came to an end and he returned, hosted indefinitely by the Potters, whom were good friends of Marlene’s father.
"I remember that boy," Mrs. McKinnon commented, peering at the paper over her daughter's shoulder. "He was something of a hellion, if my memory serves. Always at odds with his family but reputed to be quite brilliant. I’m fairly sure James said he scored an Outstanding in his N.E.W.T.s, which is more than I can say about you.”
Marlene fought hard not to roll her eyes, something her mother hated with such fierceness she even slapped her for it during an argument. The situation was as follows: Marlene finished her schooling at Hogwarts the previous year, and although her tests had all returned with glorious E’s and A’s, there had been no O’s, news her household hadn’t particularly liked. Marlene, actually, found the whole situation hilarious. There was nothing outstanding about her, and that her accomplishments reflected that part of her character could only be right.
"He sounds quite interesting," she retorted, in hope to at least change subject, earning a sharp look from her mother.
“He’s rather unsuitable for a young lady of your age, that’s what he is,” she hissed, putting an end to whatever topic Marlene was trying to open. It was always the same story: one hour she was seconds away from calling her a spinster, because having only one suitor she didn’t even like at the ripe old age of nineteen was rather unseemly, and the other she wasn’t old enough to even think of a men’s name. What neither of them knew, though, was that the subjects of their brief conversation were also talking about Marlene, and the prospect of how the season would change for James with his friend back in town.
“I really don’t see how exactly I’m meant to make your existence more peaceful,” drawled Sirius, sitting in an armchair in his best friend's living room. He felt safe now that he could see his bespectacled face again, but the impending party hosted by his cousin Andromeda distressed him, and even though he had told himself over and over that there was no reason for any other member of their family to attend, James’s words didn’t help him not to dread his return to society.
"They’ll find you, and while some will stick to their ultimate goal, most will move on to the new prey and I'll get a breather," James replied, before taking a long and theatrical sip of his brandy.
“Who, pray tell, are they?” demanded Sirius, dumbfounded enough to consider if his friend had taken a few too many blows to the head playing Quidditch.
“Society mothers. Women like your aunt, with daughters of marriageable age. You can run from an Erumpent but not from them, and I should warn you, Mrs. McKinnon is the worst of the lot,” he went on, as if he was telling a horror story. “They will hunt you down, and in a matter of seconds you’ll find yourself trapped in conversation with a pale girl you vaguely remember from our times at Hogwarts, only now they're dressed in white instead of black.”
“You’re telling me you’ve become something of an eligible gentleman while I was away?” Sirius asked, amused.
"Not out of any aspirations to the role on my part, I assure you, but Marlene graduated last year, and I escort her to society functions from time to time,” replied James, deeply rooted fondness softening his tone. Although Fleamont and Euphemia’s only child had many friends, he had never made a secret of his desire to have a sibling, someone to care for and who could fill the grey English days with mischief and laughter. The neighbour’s daughter, younger by five years, filled the role almost perfectly, and although at the time someone whispered behind their backs about the intimate friendship, the two were never left alone and now even the more old-fashioned folks understood that nothing but sincere brotherly affection flowed between them.
"Since you're here, you should come to the McKinnons for dinner with me this weekend," James offered, as if he'd found the solution to a problem he hadn't previously known about. "I'll talk to Angus, he's the only one who can make his wife behave, and you don’t have to worry about Marls, she’s kind of the exception to the rule. The poor girl has only one suitor, a perfectly amiable lad if you ask me, but he’s rather dim in the head and I don't think he realized his feelings are not reciprocated. If she keeps avoiding him, I’m almost certain he’ll go away, but if he doesn’t, I’m afraid I’ll be in need to show off my eldest brother side.”
Sirius chuckled. It was delightful to see James ready to resume his Hogwarts ways even after all these years but it made him long for something more, a family of his own, or maybe a place he could call home, full of love and softness.
“So, you’ll come for supper, then?” James stood. “Informal, of course.”
“I’d be delighted.”