Chapter Text
It’s been four hours now since Marlene had crawled into bed, hair still damp, clad in her black T-shirt and boy shorts-her comfiest nighttime attire, ready to finally rest after a long day of bullshit. She had pulled her covers up. Twisted and turned until she found the perfect position to sleep in—on her right side with a hand tucked beneath her pillow—and closed her eyes.
However, where sleep usually pulled her into its hazy depths, it seems to have missed its cue tonight, leaving Marlene awake, staring at the ceiling of the Gryffindor dorms. The gold detailing on maroon curtains seemed to wink at her mockingly as moonlight slipped through the slim gap between them. She didn’t know what was wrong.
The tightness in her stomach kept building up within her, clawing its way up to her chest, burning in her throat and behind her eyes. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. She flipped onto her left side, drawing her knees up and pulling her covers higher up over her frame. Marlene clenched her eyes shut and prayed that sleep would finally take her.
“Marlene.”
“Marlene.”
“Marls.”
“Marlene!”
Marlene snapped her head in the direction of the loud voice.
“What?” she snapped back furiously.
Sirius stared at her in disbelief.
”Could you pass the eggs, please?” he said slowly, both brows raised, as if talking to a toddler.
Marlene’s face warmed in embarrassment. Trying her absolute best to avoid looking at the expressions of anyone else sitting at the table. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Sirius. “Fuck off, Sirius.” Marlene stood, grabbed her book bag from next to her legs, and stormed out of the Great Hall.
The incident at breakfast seemed to set the tone for the rest of her day. She slept in all her classes and slipped away from the crowds heading for lunch. She couldn’t bring herself to sit among her entire house, all of whom had seen her humiliate herself this morning. She wasn’t hungry much anyway.
Which was why Marlene had snuck into the Gryffindor female Quidditch changing rooms. No one ever bothered to lock it, like most unused classrooms, and it was far enough from the castle that most people wouldn’t bother walking all the way there and then all the way back, making it the perfect place for Marlene to sit and think for a couple of minutes.
She sat and leaned back against the lockers. It was always so quiet. Like the air itself was still. Just like her room back home. She missed it. And her guitar. She didn’t miss the long hours spent alone waiting for her parents to come home late at night. She didn’t miss the suffocating pressure of all the expectations she always fails to meet.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a scroll of parchment, a beaten-up quill, and an ink pot. She broke off the half-broken feather part of the quill and started sketching. She drew the beach, big waves crashing into the rocky shore. She’d only been once, but ever since, she’s wanted to visit it again someday. She felt a strange kinship to the vast body of water.
Not much later, Marlene packed away her supplies and trekked back up to the castle.
As she was making her way to Transfiguration, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to Lily, smiling casually up at her, her auburn hair a mess in her face, and what looked like a scone wrapped in tissues in her hands.
“Here.” She gestured to Marlene.
“You didn’t come to lunch, so I got you something.”
“Thanks.” She accepted the scone from Lily’s extended hand and took a bite.
Lily tucked her hair back behind her ears in an attempt to get it out of her face.
“I swear to god one day I’m gonna snap and chop it all off,” she huffed, twisting long inches back into a bun.
“No, you won’t.”
“No, I won’t,” she agreed, “but days like this I’m really tempted to.”
Marlene knows that they’re both ignoring how weird she’s been all day. That this was Lily’s way of being kind. Yet Marlene can’t help but feel drained at her attempt. Don't get her wrong; it really does warm her heart that Lily went through all the trouble to try and make her day a little better, but Marlene is just so sick of pretending.
The Fat Lady’s portrait opened, allowing Marlene to enter the Gryffindor dormitory. She was planning on heading straight to bed, but as she passed through the common room, she caught a glimpse of none other than Sirius Black, head thrown back in laughter at something Peter must have said. Her steps faltered. She turned around and sat on the couch nearest to him, and slid her bag to the floor.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you this morning.”
“Oh, er, it’s alright; if anything, I’m sorry too for being an arsehole.” He smiled regretfully. “I hope I haven’t upset you too much—”
“No, no, of course not,” she blurted, hands waving in disagreement.
“It’s just.” She sighed. “I’ve just had a shit couple of days.”
“I get it.” Grey eyes pierced through her. “Sometimes I feel like a fire blazes inside of me, and the only way I can let it out is by lashing out at someone else.” His eyes flicked to the hearth of the common room.
“How do you make it stop?”
“Finding people who care can help more than you think.” He smiled at her.
Marlene could sense much was left unsaid, but she didn’t press. She patted him on the shoulder and climbed up the stairs to the Girls’ dorms.
The next morning arrived in the form of a pillow to her face. Marlene startled awake and shoved the mascara-smudged pillow- definitely Mary’s- off of her face. And as if the make-up residue wasn’t proof enough of Mary’s proprietorship of the pillow, there Mary stood in all her scowling glory, arms crossed over her chest.
“What’s going on?” Marlene mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
“What’s going on is SOMEONE won't wake up, and now we’re late for class!”
“Shit.” Marlene scrambled to get her blouse on.
Mary’s brows furrowed, her dark eyes once bright with Ire now narrowed in cool calculation. “What’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been acting all…” She gestured at her with one hand. “Spill,” Mary demanded, a frown on her face.
Marlene’s nose flared. Fucking really? “Can you not interrogate me first thing in the morning?!” she snapped, hands clenching into fists.
Mary stared at her for a moment before her eyes softened. “Fine. We’ll chat later then.”
“Thank you.” Mary smiled, turning to put on her shoes.
“Have you seen my skirt anywhere?” Marlene asked, her hands rummaging through her clothes. God, this is going to take forever to tidy up later.
“Have you checked under your bed?”
Marlene scrambles to reach under her wooden bed frame, extending farther right first, then left and- yes! She pulls out the red and dusty ruffled fabric, shaking it in the air aggressively, then, as she is about to put her leg through, she sees a tear the length of her hand, ripping from the middle of the skirt and through its hem. Marlene’s left eye twitches. The universe really had some sick fucking sense of humor, didn’t it?
They do end up missing breakfast by half an hour. Mary basically tailored one of her skirts to fit Marlene. Thank Merlin for the presence of Marlene’s dormmates in her life, honestly. Marlene feels like she would’ve given up and just gone back to bed for all her troubles had Mary not insisted she get up. Nothing seems to be going her way these days. However, Charms with the Slytherins just so happens to be today’s first period. Which also just so happens to be Marlene’s favorite class. Not that she’s any good at it, or any other class for that matter, but at least the lectures are interesting, and the coursework is never too long, which makes it superior to other classes in Marlene’s opinion.
“Good morning, Class,” Professor Flitwick chirped. “Today, I just wanted to introduce and discuss the fifth year mid-term Charms project assignment for this year. It will account for twenty percent of your total grade, however-” The fifth years made it clear what they thought of that. Fifth years! Fifth years! Settle down now. It will be assigned to you as a pair project. Please raise your hand if you hear your name and take note of your partner.”
Ok, that's fine. That’s all well and good with Marlene. Except it wasn’t. It really bloody well wasn’t. As Flitwick started to list the names of each pair, Marlene realized that he was pairing one Gryffindor and Slytherin per group. A sense of doom washes over her. She feels strangely betrayed by Flitwick. She was counting on this class not to fuck her over like this.
“Ms McKinnon and Ms Meadowes” Who? She looked over, and it was one of Slytherin’s chasers raising her hand. At least it wasn’t anyone Marlene had a problem with. Look at her being positive. Hell might actually be freezing over. Her partner walked over to her desk, her stride steady, posture perfect, and head held high. She was one of those types, wasn’t she? Marlene was not awake enough for this. “Meet me at the library at six to discuss,” she said smoothly. Even her voice is perfect. “Er, yeah sure. I can do six,” Marlene replied, hands picking at her sleeves. The chaser nodded respectfully, then adjusted her bag on her shoulder and walked out of the classroom. Marlene watched her wade between all the students and through the door. Meadowes may have been a bit stiff, but she was cordial enough to make Marlene think maybe she’d let some of the teamwork she displayed on the pitch translate into the project. Merlin knows Marlene’s going to need all the help she can get. And really, how bad could working with a Slytherin be?