Rebel Rebel

McKinnon Manor, Isle of Skye, July 6 1977

The weight of politics clung to the air among the older guests, but the ballroom floor told a different story. The younger crowd swayed to the music, blissfully unburdened by the tension simmering beneath the surface. Lily Evans, drink in hand, couldn’t help but smile as the rhythm carried her. Waiting for Merrick to join her, she marveled at how surreal it all felt.

She almost couldn’t believe she’d considered skipping the party. Though she shared a dorm with Dorcas and Marlene, as they were all Grynffindors, they hadn’t been close until sixth year. They’d been friendly acquaintances, but never real friends, especially since Marlene often made excuses for James.

Maybe she’d misjudged them, but Dorcas and Marlene had always seemed wrapped up in gossip, boys, and the latest parties. It hadn’t helped that Marlene in Marlene’s eyes James could never do wrong. So, Lily had kept her distance, preferring to steer clear.

That all changed during an incident at the end of sixth year in the courtyard when Severus had shouted a horrible word, goaded by Potter and Sirius. As Potter retaliated, Marlene and Dorcas rushed to Lily, wrapping their arms around her and muttering curses at both boys. “Bloody idiots,” Marlene had said as they led her away, and for the first time, Lily felt like she truly belonged with them.

"Firewhisky with soda for the lady," Merrick grinned, passing Lily her drink.

Lily caught Merrick’s eye, feeling her cheeks warm. "Do parties at your place always get this big?"

Merrick shrugged, in his posh Scottish accent, "We’re Scots. It gets a wee bit out of hand."

Lily chuckled, then asked, "What’s next for you after Hogwarts?"

“Euro-Glyph School of Extraordinary Language,” Merrick replied casually. “After that... who knows?”

Lily raised her eyebrows, impressed. “That’s brilliant! I know how hard it is to get in.”

“Thanks,” Merrick said with a small shrug. “Pa’s not too impressed, though. Thinks learning hieroglyphs is a waste of time and reckons I should be focusing on the family business.”

He paused, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Not at all,” Lily reassured him, offering a warm smile. “It must be a lot to deal with, though.”

Merrick shrugged again, clearly used to the weight of those expectations. “What about you? Any plans after Hogwarts?”

Lily hesitated. “Honestly, I haven’t really thought about what I actually want to do. Maybe a potion mastery program”

Merrick looked at her seriously, his voice soft but sure. “You can do anything you want, Lily Evans.”

Lily nodded, appreciating the simplicity of his answer and the way he said her name, but deep down, she had a feeling that time was slipping away, that every decision now would define the rest of her life.

“Well, enough about the future. What about now? Shouldn’t we be dancing?” She smiled again, trying to lighten the mood.

Merrick grinned, setting down his drink. “Lead the way, Lily Evans.”

And with that, they moved toward the dance floor, where Dorcas and Benjy were already lost in the music. The beat pulsed through the air, and for the first time in a long while, Lily let herself get swept up in the moment. Just a girl, at a party, with friends. 

**

Across the room, Sirius leaned against the wall, his dark robes brushing the paneling as he took a swig from his flask. Firewhisky—smooth and fiery, nicked from his father’s stash. His gaze drifted to James, slouched beside him, staring at the dance floor. His best mate’s expression was unusually shadowed, his focus fixed on Lily, who was spinning with Merrick McKinnon, all radiant smiles and polished charm.

“You know,” Sirius drawled, taking another swig from his flask, “you should probably just forget about her.” 

James didn’t even glance at him. His jaw tightened, and he let out a soft huff, which might’ve been a laugh, but it sounded more like an exhale of frustration

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice carrying more weight than usual. “I’m painfully aware.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and studied James for a moment. “Don’t tell me you’re sulking, mate. That’s my job,” Sirius said with a teasing grin, nudging James’s shoulder with his own. James finally turned his head, meeting Sirius’s gaze with a faint, crooked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Not sulking. Just thinking.” 

“Dangerous habit,” Sirius quipped. “What, planning how to let me drink you under the table later? Because that’s already a foregone conclusion.”

James snorted, but he didn’t reply. Sirius sighed and slid down the wall, plopping onto the floor with a dramatic sigh. 

“Come on, you can join me. It’s much more fun down here,” he added, patting the space next to him. James hesitated for a moment, then followed suit, settling next to Sirius. 

“I snuck out tonight, you know,” Sirius said after a beat, swirling his Firewhisky in the flask. “Father didn’t say anything, but I think he knew. Didn’t care, really.” He let out a dry chuckle. “Mother, on the other hand, told me outright not to come.” 

James frowned, glancing sideways at him. “But you came anyway.” 

“Obviously,” Sirius replied, tilting his head back against the wall. The chandelier’s light flickered above them, casting strange shadows across his face. “She can’t keep me under her thumb forever. Besides, if I stayed home, I’d probably be forced to endure yet another lecture.’” He sneered, his voice thick with disdain. “But hey, she didn’t actually curse me this time, so I suppose that’s progress, right?” 

James turned to look at him properly, his expression more serious now. “It’s not… I mean, you’re alright, though?” 

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Sirius interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Honestly. Just thought you might appreciate hearing about the ‘great escape.’ Bit of effort to get here, y’know?” 

James didn’t laugh. His eyes narrowed, but there was something about his expression that suggested he wasn’t entirely buying it.

Sirius took another swig. “Anyway,” he said with forced brightness, “how about we stop talking about my dreary life and discuss something more riveting. Like you dancing with someone who isn’t Lily.”

James groaned, leaning back against the wall. “You’re unbearable.”

“And you’re predictable,” Sirius countered, smirking. Then, his tone softened. “But seriously, mate, let it go. It’s not good for you.” 

The music thrummed in the background, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then James stood, offering Sirius a hand.

“Come on,” James said, pulling him up. “You look ridiculous down there.”

Sirius grinned as he dusted himself off. “Ridiculously charming, you mean.”

**

Meanwhile, upstairs, a different scene unfolded in the stillness of the manor. Alastair stood in his wife’s dimly lit bedroom, watching as she prepared for bed. Flora moved gracefully in her white nightgown, the soft fabric whispering against her skin as she removed her makeup and deftly unraveled her hair with a flick of her wand. 

Like many old pure-blood couples, they maintained separate bedrooms, yet seldom spent nights apart. They had married young—Flora just twenty and Alastair only twenty-three—in an arranged match. Flora came from a respected lineage, though her dowry was modest, as her uncle was the heir. Alastair’s family had wealth and a grand manor, but no bride. Despite their differences—Alastair, a proud Scot and Gryffindor, and Flora, a refined Slytherin—love had gradually bloomed between them over the course of their first year of marriage.

“For Merlin’s sake, get into bed, Alastair,” Flora chided playfully, glancing back at him over her shoulder. 

He sighed, the weight of the evening settling heavily on his shoulders. “Prewett and Bones both told me they won’t vote for the bill unless we include some civil rights protections.”

“You knew this would happen,” Flora replied, her voice steady. “Aster mentioned that he and the others are set on voting it down.”

Alastair sighted. Flora’s brother held the seat for the Rosier family, following the rather (unfortunate or fortunate depending on who asked) death of their uncle who had no children. He was always toeing the line of the Blacks, Malfoys and other Traditionalists .

“They’re never in favour of any changes,” he snapped, recalling the scene of Nobby Leach—a Reformer and first muggle born Minister of Magic—being driven out of the Minister’s office by the Traditionalist cabal..

Flora shot him a warning look but continued, her tone softening. “You’re going to need the Moderates and the Independents on your side.”

Alastair stepped closer, his hands finding her neck, gently massaging the tension he could feel there. “Bulstrode could be persuaded. You know he has a lot of sway with the rest of them.” 

“Greengrass’ wife thinks he might be open to supporting the bill, even with some civil rights protections, if you can offer some tax cuts for businesses or some infrastructure investment in his constituency in the next Wizengamot  session,” Flora suggested, leaning into his touch as she kissed his hand lightly.

Alastair mulled this over, his mind racing through potential strategies. “Tax cuts could sweeten the deal,” he murmured, clarity dawning with each word. 

Flora smiled, her eyes brightening at the prospect. “You simply need to convince them it’s not a compromise, but an opportunity.”

As Alastair met her gaze, he felt a renewed sense of determination. 

**

The sounds of The Beatles echoed through the ballroom, the music louder and the laughter more raucous as the clock passed two. Most guests had already left, but the younger crowd, free from their parents’ watchful eyes, kept the energy high. Marlene, finally free, and Dorcas spun across the dance floor, laughing, while Benjy Fenwick cackled at a joke only he understood. Even Marlene’s usually poised cousin, Eda, joined in, her sharp laughter cutting through the noise as she twirled with a glass of Firewhisky in hand.

Marlene’s smile faltered for a moment as she glanced across the room. Mary should be here, she thought. Instead, her friend was off in Spain. She’d just have to tell her about the madness later.

“I’m not sure Benjy can keep up with you, Doe,” Marlene teased as Benjy fumbled his way across the floor.

“Nobody can keep up with me, Marls,” Dorcas grinned, spinning with dramatic flair.

Marlene couldn’t help but smile as she watched Dorcas. 

Eda, who had been standing nearby, let out a rare laugh. “Let’s hope no one breaks an ankle,” she remarked, her tone sharp.

Just then, James and Sirius swaggered over, clearly tipsy. James was a little more composed, but Sirius’s lopsided grin and loose movements gave away just how much he’d had to drink.

“Eda,” James greeted, a grin tugging at his lips.

Eda rolled her eyes and gave him an icy stare. “Potter.” She found James loud and uncouth, probably much like the rest of Gryffindor House. 

“Black,” she nodded curtly to Sirius before turning to leave, her tone dry. “I’ll leave you lot to it.” Sirius, despite being a Black, didn’t seem to earn any favor with her either.

Sirius chuckled. “Always a ray of sunshine, that one.”

“She’s not the only one,” Marlene muttered, her eyes narrowing as she shot Sirius a pointed look.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean, McKinnon? Don’t tell me you’ve been to the Rosier charm school.”

Marlene snorted, her tone frosty. “I wouldn’t need lessons to handle you, Black.”

James quickly stepped in between them, throwing an arm around Sirius. “Alright, alright, let’s not ruin the evening. We’re all friends here, yeah?”

“Friends?” Marlene scoffed, crossing her arms. “You brought him, James. Maybe you can keep him out of trouble.”

“I’m standing right here,” Sirius chimed in with mock indignation.

“Unfortunately,” Marlene shot back.

Before things could escalate, Dorcas intervened, pulling Sirius away with a grin. “Come on, Black, show me those terrible dance moves of yours before Marlene decides to hex you.”

Sirius shot Marlene a final smirk as he allowed himself to be pulled away, but she just rolled her eyes.

**

After their friends drifted away, James and Marlene lingered near the edge of the ballroom, the festive noise fading into the background. For a moment, they stood in companionable silence, watching Sirius flail through another dramatic spin.

“Someone needs to tell Black he’s not auditioning for a musical,” Marlene muttered under her breath, watching him nearly trip over his own feet again.

James chuckled beside her. “I don’t think he’d ever let anyone tell him that.”

James glanced at her sidelong, his tone casual but probing. “Saw your parents heading off to bed earlier.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. Very pleased with themselves. Mother got to parade me around all her society friends.”

“And you’ve been sulking ever since,” James observed gently, his teasing laced with concern.

“Am I supposed to celebrate being officially able to be married off, James? To the highest bidder?” she snapped, the bitterness in her voice surprising even herself. 

“You know Flora and Alastair would never do that,” James countered. “They’re far too scared of you.”

She let out a hollow laugh, the bitterness lingering in her voice. “Maybe they should be. I only agreed to this stupid ball to keep them off my back for the summer.”

James was quiet for a moment, studying her. Then, softly, “What’s really bothering you?”

She stared off into the distance, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever feel like all of this”—she gestured around the ballroom—“is just utterly hollow? We dress in these clothes, dance under these chandeliers, and for what?”

Her existence felt like an endless cycle of vanities and meaningless gatherings. The world outside the manor was literally burning. Another muggle family was murdered last week in Edinburgh and yet they still were stuck upholding their parents’ traditions. 

“Come now, Marls, it’s part of our world! I thought you enjoyed the attention,” he said gently.

“It sometimes feels like a gilded cage,” she replied, her tone more serious. She did not want to end up like her mother. A teenage bride to a man she barely knew.  

“I understand - but perhaps we don’t need to change the world all at once. Tonight, can we just exist?” he pleaded. 

Marlene envied his simplicity. She wished she could embrace the present, but that gnawing feeling in her gut never left her.

“Marls,” James said softly after a moment, “is everything alright between us?”

Her breath caught, and her chest tightened at the question. She stiffened, her lips pressing together before she forced out a reply, her tone a little too quick. “Of course.”

He hesitated, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “I know I’ve said this before, but what happened... It was a mistake. I just want us to move past it, to return to how things were.”

Marlene stiffened again, her hands nervously brushing her hair back behind her ear as she tried to divert the conversation. She couldn’t help the way her stomach twisted. She exhaled dramatically, trying to mask the depth of her emotions. “It was just a bloody shag, James.”

But even as she said it, she could feel that gnawing feeling in her chest—the ache she couldn’t quite explain. James was almost family to her—the key word being almost.