Rebel Rebel

Dumbledore's office,  Hogwarts, February 5, 1978

James and Sirius had been called to Dumbledore's office, their hearts pounding with the weight of their actions. As they walked up the spiraling staircase quietly, each step felt heavier, burdened with the uncertainty of what awaited them. James had refused to look at Sirius the whole time - his anger palpable.

The office was normally concealed by a gargoyle on the third floor. The gargoyle would step aside in response to a password. However, tonight the office's door was not closed and muffled voices could be heard inside. James halted with a gesture. “Wait,” he whispered, pressing his ear against the door. “Listen.”

Alastor Moody’s gravelly voice emerged clearly, urgent and fierce. “We’re running out of time, Albus. Voldemort’s forces grow stronger by the day. We need to act now. The Ministry is becoming more corrupt with each passing moment.”

Dumbledore’s calm but firm reply echoed through the door. “Indeed, Alastor, but you know the risks involved in assembling a group like this. Many are hesitant.”

Moody snorted, a mixture of frustration and contempt. “Hesitant? Most people are terrified, Albus. They’re burying their heads in the sand, hoping this will all blow over. We can’t afford that kind of cowardice any longer. The Order needs to act”

“The Longbottoms, the Bones, Caradoc are ready at a moment’s notice, but I’m not sure that will be enough,” Moody added, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

The two Marauders exchanged excited glances, their interest piqued by the prospect of involvement in something significant. James leaned closer, his heart racing at the thought of making a real difference.

“Perhaps we should look beyond the Auror office,” Dumbledore suggested.

Moody’s reply was swift and resolute. “We need those who truly understand the stakes. They can’t be blinded by idealism; they must know the darkness they’re facing. The wrong people in the wrong place could lead to catastrophe.”

Adrenaline surged through  James at the mention of recruiting younger witches and wizards. The idea of fighting back against Voldemort ignited a sense of purpose they had long craved.

“Once we’ve expanded our group, we can focus on their training and patrolling,” Moody continued. “I can run drills to prepare them for real combat. They need to grasp that this won’t be anything like what they’ve faced before.”

“Keep me in the know” Dumbledore replied, nodding along. Just then, the office door swung open, and Moody stormed out, nearly colliding with James and Sirius. He shot them a bewildered look, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, before descending the staircase in a hurry.

Dumbledore gestured for the boys to enter his office, the door creaking open to reveal the warm, inviting space filled with shelves of books and strange trinkets. The tension in the room was palpable as the two boys stepped inside.

“Sit” Dumbledore instructed, his tone gentle yet firm. As they settled into their seats, the Old man regarded them with a penetrating gaze. “A student nearly drown today”

 “I won’t expel you, Sirius, as you need to graduate. But there will be consequences for your actions.” He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. “You will serve detention for the rest of the year. Your recklessness cannot go unchecked.”

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore raised a hand, silencing him.

“And James,” the Headmaster continued, his eyes softening slightly, “though your bravery is commendable, you will have detention for the rest of the month and will not play the next two quidditch matches. I expect you two to reflect on your choices.”

The room fell silent as the reality of their situation settled in. 

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, regarding them with a thoughtful expression before letting them leave. “You are on the precipice of a great conflict, and I urge you to choose your battles wisely. The path ahead will not be easy, but it is crucial that you understand the importance of your decisions now”

**

Outside the office, the silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. The corridors of Hogwarts were quiet this late at night, but James barely registered it. All he could hear was the roaring in his ears, the pounding of his heart, the lingering echoes of Dumbledore’s words.

He should’ve felt relieved. They’d gotten off lighter than they deserved—again. A few detentions, a Quidditch ban. It could have been worse. It should have been worse.

Sirius, as always, stood beside him like nothing had happened, like he was waiting for James to roll his eyes, let out a breath of relief, and move on. Maybe even crack a joke about their latest brush with trouble.

But James couldn’t.

Because this wasn’t funny. This wasn’t some harmless prank gone a little too far.

This was too much.

James turned to him sharply, barely keeping his fury in check. “I can’t believe you did this.”

Sirius blinked, like he hadn’t seen this coming. Like he actually thought James would just shrug it off. “James—”

“I told you we were done with this.” His voice was low, trembling with the effort to keep it steady. He didn’t want to yell. Yelling meant Sirius would yell back, and then they’d be fighting in the middle of the corridor like idiots. But the anger burned just beneath his skin, seething, unshakable. “I thought you learned from what happened in the Shrieking Shack. From Remus. From Snape.” His throat felt tight. “But I should have known. You never learn.”

Sirius' jaw clenched. “They attacked Mary.”

James let out a sharp breath. “Mulciber got expelled.” He could still hear Dumbledore’s voice—a student nearly drowned —and it made his stomach churn. His voice rose slightly, the control slipping. “And someone could have died, Sirius.”

Sirius looked away, and for a moment, James thought maybe—maybe—he felt guilty. But knowing Sirius, he’d bury it, shove it down, pretend it wasn’t there. Because that’s what he always did.

James let out a short, humorless laugh. He felt exhausted. So bloody exhausted. “But yeah. That’s you, isn’t it? You never think about the consequences. You just do whatever the hell you want and expect the rest of us to deal with it.”

Sirius bristled. “I was handling it.”

James scoffed. “You call that handling it?” He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. His chest ached. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s not just about you.”

Sirius’ face darkened, but James was already past the point of caring.

And then, before he could stop himself—before he could think better of it—he said it.

“The same thing with Marlene. You did whatever you wanted.”

Sirius froze.

James almost regretted it. Almost.

Because for the first time tonight, Sirius didn’t have a comeback. No cocky smirk, no sharp-tongued deflection. Just silence. And James saw it—the flicker of something raw and vulnerable beneath the mask.

Good.

James took a step back, swallowing down the lump in his throat. His voice was quieter now, but somehow, it felt heavier than all the shouting in the world.

“I’m done, Sirius.”

Sirius flinched.

James exhaled shakily. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep cleaning up after your shit. I can’t keep watching you destroy everything and pretending like it doesn’t matter.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he ignored it.

He turned before he could second-guess himself, before he could take it back.

Walked away.

And he didn’t look back.

**

At lunch, Mary leans in, her voice light but probing. “Do you think you’ll go on another date with Merrick?” She twirls a piece of her curly hair around her finger, trying to sound offhand, but Lily catches the flicker of curiosity in her friend's eyes.

The Hogwarts dining hall buzzed with warm candlelight, floating high above four long tables filled with students. Golden plates gleamed beneath the enchanted ceiling that mirrored the dusky sky outside.

Lily shrugs, keeping her tone casual. “We’ll see. He’s quite busy with his father’s company, on top of his studies.” She picks at her food, stabbing a roasted potato a little harder than necessary. Her gaze drifts to Marlene, watching, waiting for any reaction.

Marlene doesn’t miss a beat. She grins, ever the jokester, her wild blonde curls bouncing with the motion. “Would be nice to have you as a sister-in-law. Your competitive side would probably love our annual Highland game.” Her smile is bright, but there’s a teasing lilt to her words that makes Lily's stomach twist.

Lily musters a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The ache in her chest lingers, a gnawing suspicion about James and Marlene. Marlene is one of her best friends, but it’s infuriating how easy it is to compare herself—how Marlene laughs without hesitation, how her curly hair always seems to fall perfectly into place, how James’ gaze seems to linger just a second too long when Marlene speaks. 

Before Marlene can notice any animosity, Dorcas appears at their table, her voice a low whisper of excitement. “Did you hear? Someone flooded the Slytherin dungeon last night.”

“Flooded?” Mary echoes, her brows shooting up. “How?”

Marlene raises a brow, her curiosity piqued. “Reckon it was the boys?” She asks, clearly entertained by the idea.

Lily’s mind jumps to James—his reckless streak, his penchant for pranks—but she quickly dismisses the thought. “James wouldn’t be that stupid,” she mutters, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

A silence settles over the group like a heavy cloud. Mary, who had been chatty moments ago, suddenly goes quiet, her gaze fixed on her untouched plate.

**

Mary doesn’t wait. After class, she tracks him down by the courtyard, her heart a steady drum against her ribs. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows over the stone walls, but the air between them is warm, charged.

“Was it you?” Her voice is soft, but there’s steel beneath it.

Sirius leans against a pillar, arms crossed. His smirk flickers, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe.” A lazy shrug. “Did it for you.”

Her stomach twists. “For me?” The words burn. “Sirius, you could have hurt someone. Just like Mulciber hurt me.” Her voice cracks on the last word, and she hates it.

The smirk vanishes. His jaw tightens. “It’s not the same,” he snaps. But there’s something else in his voice—something unsteady. “We can’t all be feeble like you. I had to fight back.”

Mary inhales sharply. “Feeble?” Her fingers curl into fists at her sides. “You think I’m feeble because I don’t lash out like you?”

Sirius scoffs, but it lacks his usual arrogance. “I don’t know, Mary. Maybe if you stood up for yourself—”

“Fuck you ! I stand up for myself every day,” she interrupts, voice sharp as glass. “Every time I walk into a room full of people who don’t want me there. Every time I don’t let them win.” She steps closer, forcing him to meet her gaze. “You think this is about me? It’s about you. Your ego. You weren’t avenging me, Sirius—you were proving something to yourself.”

Sirius exhales, looking away for the first time. “That’s not true.” But there’s no fight in it.

Mary shakes her head. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I am.” His voice is quiet now.

“No.” Her throat tightens. “You just wanted to play hero.”

Silence swells between them. Sirius swallows hard, something unreadable flickering across his face. But it’s too late. Mary steps back.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles,” she says. “I just needed you to be my friend.”

And then she turns, walking away before he can try to stop her. Behind her, Sirius stands frozen, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

** 

The corridor was eerily quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of James and Lily's footsteps as they walked side by side, having just left the Head Boy and Girl’s meeting behind. James noticed the way Lily kept glancing at him, her thoughts clearly turning over whatever had been discussed.

“So,” Lily began, breaking the silence, “did you have anything to do with flooding the dungeon?”

James came to a sudden stop, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “No, not this time,” he replied quickly. But then, with a wry smile, he added, “It’s still sort of my fault.”

Lily raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “How’s it your fault?”

He hesitated. There was no way he could explain how Sirius had used his own Invisibility Cloak to sneak into the Slytherin common room.

“Well...” James scratched the back of his neck, his gaze shifting slightly. “I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve stopped Sirius.”

“You can’t be responsible for every mess Sirius makes,” Lily said firmly.

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So you believe me, then?”

There was a beat of silence as Lily studied him, her gaze sharp, almost searching, like she was trying to read between the lines. James felt the weight of her scrutiny, the tension in the air. After what felt like an eternity, she answered softly, “I want to.”

Before James could respond, the sound of footsteps approaching interrupted him. Marlene rounded the corner, her usual confident grin lighting up her face.

“Well, well,” Marlene’s voice rang out teasingly. “What do we have here?”

James shot her an exasperated look. “What are you doing out so late?”

Marlene shrugged nonchalantly, eyes scanning the hallway. “I didn’t feel like being in the Great Hall or the common room. Figured I’d get some fresh air. Hufflepuff had to cancel practice, so I thought I’d do a few laps on the pitch.”

James raised an eyebrow, glancing at Lily. She was giving Marlene a skeptical look, though she remained silent. After a moment, James shrugged and, without thinking, grinned at Marlene. “I’ll join you.”

Lily shot him a quick, almost too-casual glance, but said nothing. She just turned and walked off, leaving James and Marlene to follow.

The two made their way to the Quidditch pitch, the cool night air nipping at their skin, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound in the stillness. When they arrived, James didn’t waste any time, immediately starting a few laps around the pitch, the wind rushing past his face as he pushed himself harder to clear his mind.

Marlene matched his pace, her stride easy and effortless. After a few laps, they slowed down and began tossing a Quaffle through the hoops, the familiar motions almost meditative. It didn’t require thinking, just moving—something James needed right now.

Eventually, they settled on the grass, the pitch bathed in pale moonlight. Marlene pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of her wand and exhaling the smoke into the crisp air. James stretched out beside her, resting on his elbows, staring up at the starry sky.

“You’re smoking again,” he remarked, his tone not as disapproving as it usually was.

Marlene shrugged, taking another drag and glancing over at him. “Helps me think.”

James leaned back further, his fingers grazing the grass. His mind kept returning to the mess with the prank. “I got suspended from Quidditch.”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Of course you did. You love trouble. Well, there goes the Quidditch Cup.”

James ran a hand through his black hair, clearly frustrated. “It’s all Sirius’s fault. He never thinks things through,” he groaned. “It’s always something with him.” 

Marlene took a drag from her cigarette, her voice softening. “Well…you know why he does some of the things he does. It’s because of his family. You really think he wakes up and decides to be a arse? No. That’s been drilled into him his whole life.”

James looked at her, brow furrowed. “Are you defending him? After everything—how can you even stand to be around him?”

Marlene exhaled sharply, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “I’m not defending him.”

She added, her tone turning sharper now, irritation creeping in. “I get it, Black can be a nightmare. He’s selfish, reckless, sometimes cruel.  But, I get that you're angry, James, but I'm not the one causing it.”

“You should stay away from him,” James snapped, his frustration growing.

Marlene's expression hardened. “I’m not going to stop talking to him just because you’re mad. He’s a bloody idiot, yeah, and I’m pissed at him too. But I’m not going to cut him out like he’s some disease just because ‘King James’ says so.”

James’s temper flared. “It’s not about cutting him out, Marlene. It’s about knowing when enough is enough. He drags us into every mess, and you’re still giving him the time of day. After he dumped you, no less!”

Marlene crossed her arms, her voice getting sharper. “I’m not your bloody puppet, James. I don’t need you telling me who I can or can’t talk to. I’ve got my own issues with Black—believe me, I do—but I’m not going to let you dictate my life.”

James blinked, taken aback by her outburst. “I’m not telling you what to do—”

“So what are you telling me?” Marlene cut in, her voice rising slightly. “What do you want from me? You don’t get to decide who I talk to, or when I’m allowed to be mad at someone. I’m my own person.”

James felt his anger deflate slightly. “I know, I bloody know that. Sorry, I’m just... pissed off about everything. I hate feeling like I’m always cleaning up after him.”

Marlene nodded, uncrossing her arms. “Yeah, well, welcome to the chaos that is dealing with Sirius Black. It’s never boring, at least.”

**

Sirius stopped in his tracks when he saw Remus sitting alone in the common room. The firelight flickered over his face, casting shadows under his eyes. He looked exhausted. Sirius hesitated for only a second before walking over, forcing an easy grin.

“Moony,” he said, flopping onto the couch across from him. “You should’ve seen the row I had with Mary. Absolute nightmare, that one. You’d think she—”

“You were fighting with Mary?” Remus cut in, eyebrows lifting slightly. Mary? Was she the one Sirius had been sneaking around with? It would make sense, they had been spending more and more time together. He pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter.

Sirius exhaled sharply, leaning back. “Yeah, well. She was being difficult.”

Remus let out a humorless laugh. “James was right. You really are an arsehole.”

The words landed like a slap, but Sirius covered the sting with a scoff. “Oh, come off it, Moony—”

“No.” Remus shot to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor. “I can’t believe you have the gall to come up and talk to me like nothing happened. Like you didn’t prove—again—that you’ve learned nothing.”

Sirius blinked. “Remus—”

“I thought you’d changed after the Shack.” Remus’s voice was tight, controlled, but barely. “I thought you actually understood what you did, what could’ve happened. But you don’t, do you? You’re still just—” He shook his head. “Adrift.”

Sirius swallowed. “Moony—”

“Stop calling me that.” Remus clenched his fists, shaking his head. “I’m over it, Sirius. I’ve spent too much time trying to understand you, trying to save you from yourself. But you don’t want to be saved, do you? Well, fine. Save yourself.”

Sirius sat there, stunned, as Remus turned on his heel and walked away. His heart clenched in a way he didn’t quite understand—except he did. The realization settled deep in his gut, hollow and heavy.

**

For days, Marlene had watched Sirius pull away from everyone, retreating into solitude. He no longer lounged in the common room, no longer filled the space with his usual effortless charm. Instead, silence followed him like a shadow.

She wasn’t sure what she expected to feel about it. Satisfaction, maybe. He had hurt her, after all—had pulled her in just to push her away when it suited him. And yet, despite it all, there was something about seeing Sirius like this, isolated and hollow-eyed, that made her stomach twist.

She told herself she was just curious, nothing more. But she knew better.

She found him slouched in a library chair, staring blankly at a book he clearly wasn’t reading. That was what did it, in the end—the sheer wrongness of Black, of all people, hiding away like this. The Black she knew had spent the summer filling her house, lounging on her parents’ sofa like he’d always belonged there, like he hadn’t just been kicked out of his own home. She had seen him at his lowest, then, angry and lost and raw in a way few people ever got to witness. And maybe that was why, despite everything, she couldn’t just walk away now.

With a sigh, she shoved her hands in her pockets and strolled over.

 “So, what terrible thing have you done this time?”

His head snapped up. Surprise flickered across his face before he smoothed it over with a lazy smirk—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, you know me. Always up to something.”

She arched a brow. “James looks ready to hex you into next week. Remus won’t even say your name. You’ve really out done yourself this time.”

His smirk faltered. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Well, I thought I’d teach them the Slynterins a lesson, but it got out of hand. Fast. James and I got dragged to Dumbledore’s office.” A humorless chuckle. “He thinks I’m an arsehole. Says he’s done with me.”

Marlene let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’s… well, even for you, that’s a bit much.”

He shot her a look, expecting judgment. But she only shrugged.

The truth was, she understood. Sirius had always been more reckless than her—where she weighed the risks just enough to keep herself from falling too hard, he hurled himself into the fire and dared it to burn him. But that recklessness, that raw, unfiltered need to tear the world apart and make something new from the ashes? That, she understood perfectly. 

Marlene tilted her head. “James isn’t done with you.”

Sirius scoffed. “Doesn’t feel like he cares.” His voice was quieter now, rawer.

She studied him for a moment. “He’s just pissed. You know how he is—he’s a soft git, deep down. Give it time.”

Sirius made a face. “Don’t let him hear you say that. His fragile ego might not recover.”

Marlene snorted. “Please, James lives for dramatics.”

For a moment, that almost felt normal—like things weren’t so broken between all of them. But then Sirius let out a sigh, gaze dropping to the table as if the weight of everything pressed down on him again.

She hesitated before nudging his arm. “You know, you don’t have to avoid the common room,” she said. “You don’t have to hide.”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, something unreadable in them. “Why are you even talking to me, McKinnon?” His voice was quieter now. “After everything?”

Marlene stilled. He was right. The last time they spoke, she had told him to stop using her—had thrown his arrogance right back in his face after he’d tried to kiss her like nothing had happened. 

A dozen answers flickered through her mind, none of them ones she was ready to say out loud. Because you spent a summer, half-broken, sleeping off a perpetual hungover at Mckinnon’s Manor. Because you’re the only one who seems to really understand. Because I saw the way you looked when you thought no one was watching. Because, even now, I can’t seem to stop caring.

She could have been honest. Instead, she shrugged, lips curling at the edges. “Oh, I don’t know,” she mused. “Maybe I just enjoy watching you suffer. Bit of a hobby.”

Sirius let out a short laugh.

Marlene smirked. “Or maybe I just make bad decisions.”

He gave her a long look, something unreadable in his gaze, then nodded once. “Fair enough.” A pause, then, softer—“Thanks, Marlene, really.”

She didn’t answer. She just nudged his book closer to him with a pointed look. “At least pretend to read something, Black.” Then she walked off, leaving him with a faint smirk still lingering on his lips.

**

The common room was unusually quiet that night. Lily sat by the fire, flipping through Witch Weekly, while Dorcas scribbled furiously at her Charms homework. Across from them, Marlene and Sirius were huddled on the sofa, speaking in hushed tones—a strange sight. Ever since the Marauders’ disagreement, things had been tense, as though the entire Gryffindor house had been turned upside down. Although Lily wasn’t directly involved, she felt the weight of it all and wished they’d just make up.

What she didn’t realize was that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

James stormed into the room, Remus and Peter trailing behind him, his face set in grim determination. The moment they appeared, the atmosphere shifted, like a storm about to break. James's eyes immediately locked on Sirius and Marlene, and his jaw tightened. Remus tried, unsuccessfully, to hold him back, but James shrugged him off, seething.

“Marlene!” James shouted, his voice booming across the room. “What are you doing with him? I told you stay away”

Both Marlene and Sirius shot to their feet, startled. The common room fell silent, every Gryffindor now watching the unfolding drama with bated breath.

“James—” Marlene began. 

“Stay out of it, Mckinnon, for your own good.”James snapped, his tone biting. 

The use of her last name hit hard. James had never spoken to her like that outside of Quidditch, and the coldness in his voice made her flinch. She dropped her gaze to the floor, shocked.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Sirius barked, stepping forward. “She’s done nothing wrong. This is between us.”

Now all eyes were on the two best friends, the tension in the room almost unbearable. Marlene, standing close to Sirius, could feel the weight of their past pressing in on the present. She shot James a wary look, sensing how bad this could get.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you,” James growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I’ll talk to her however I bloody well please.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched, his temper flaring. “I know I fucked up, alright, but don’t take it out on her. All she’s ever done is try to help. You could at least show her some respect.”

Marlene, standing beside Sirius, took a small step back. Lily could see her hands trembling ever so slightly.

James, undeterred, didn’t even glance at Remus. His anger surged again as he pointed an accusatory finger at Sirius, eyes blazing. “You want to lecture me about respect? After all the shit you pulled” He pointed an accusatory finger at Sirius, eyes blazing. “You never deserved her!”

Remus stood behind James. His eyes darted between Sirius and James, but when Sirius mentioned Marlene, his gaze fixed on Sirius, his brow furrowing. The tension in the room shifted palpably as he leaned forward, clearly caught off guard. “Wait,” he said, his voice low but sharp, cutting through the heated exchange. “It was Marlene?” 

Sirius turned slightly, startled by Remus’s question, but quickly masked his expression. “That’s not—this isn’t about that,” Sirius snapped, his voice tight, though his cheeks flushed faintly.

Sirius turned to James, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm “You think you deserve her ?”

The entire room held its breath.

"Oh don’t worry, I had her first" The words slipped from James’s mouth, and the moment they did, the room seemed to freeze. A collective gasp filled the space, all eyes locking on him. 

Lily’s stomach turned to ice. No. No, that can’t be true. Her eyes darted to Marlene, searching—begging—for denial. But Marlene just stood there, lips parted, her face frozen in a mask of guilt and horror. She didn’t deny it. She didn’t even try.

“Say that again” Sirius snarled, closing the gap between them. His fists clenched, his eyes wild with fury.

James held his gaze, something dark flickering in his own. “Guess you weren’t the only one, mate…”

In that instant, something broke in Sirius. His eyes flicked between his best friend and Marlene, his heartbreak was palpable, and Lily felt it like a punch to the gut. Marlene’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, her usual fire replaced by a crippling silence. 

With a roar of rage, Sirius lunged at James, fists flying as the seventh years screamed. James retaliated with a swift punch, splitting Sirius’s lip, blood spraying across the common room floor.

Lily wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She was rooted to the spot, horror-struck, as Remus, Peter, and Dirk Creswell finally managed to pull them apart.

Sirius stormed out of the room without another word, slamming the portrait behind him. The whispers in the common room grew louder, disbelief hanging in the air like a fog. No one could quite process what had just unfolded.

“You promised, James!” Marlene’s voice cracked, raw with betrayal. Her mascara streaked down her tear-stained cheeks. 

James, who had seemed so untouchable moments ago, now stood hollowed out, regret creeping into his features. “Marlene, I—”

“For Merlin’s sake, fuck off!” she shouted, her voice breaking completely before she bolted up the stairs, Dorcas hot on her heels.

James didn’t move. He stared blankly at the spot where she had been, frozen, until finally, he muttered to Remus and Peter, “Don’t follow me,” and walked out, disappearing through the portrait hole.

Lily remained rooted where she stood, her mind racing, disbelief clinging to every corner of her thoughts. What had just unraveled before her was too devastating to fully process, and yet the weight of it sat heavy in the air, suffocating. And still, the sharpest sting came from the bitter truth she couldn’t ignore: she had been right about Marlene and James.

Lily Evans was always right — even when she wished she weren’t.