who pissed in her cornflakes
The concept of soulmates is odd.
In Judaism, it is believed that before a male child is born, his soulmate is announced by a voice in heaven—therefore, a match made in heaven—and describes husbands and wives as two halves of a whole, brought together again in holy matrimony.
In Greek mythology, humans were originally androgynous, with four arms, four legs, and two faces. Zeus split them in half, and from then on, humans searched their whole lives for their other half.
In Hinduism, a person has seven chakras, energy centers, which, when in tune and in harmony with those of a woman, creates a sense of completeness.
Of course, this is all bullshit.
Marlene McKinnon had made this discovery while digging through her mother’s cabinets as a nosy seven-year-old. At the bottom of the drawer, just where Marlene knew she would find them, were books. Any subject, any religion, any myths, any poems—anything her mother could get her hands on—would end up in those bottomless drawers. Her mother had what one could call... “phases.” This could be traced back to when Marlene was four, and her mother would go to the Muggle theater every day. She’d sit there in the dark for hours, utterly entranced by the film. She would come home every day, gushing about how some Avenger had gruesomely died or how some wizard had narrowly escaped. Eventually, Marlene’s father grew tired of her mother’s whims (if you could even call them that) and took a liking to his secretary’s cleavage. Rather typical, if you ask Marlene. But, of course, no one did, so here she was.
In her mother’s office.
At the bottom of her mother’s drawer.
Looking into her mother’s current obsession—Muggle books.
"Daniel, I can’t believe you don’t have moving pictures, it’s amazing!”
"Daniel, look at how this book describes wizards, marvelous, isn’t it?”
“Daniel, who is this silly character, Jesus?”
(That, in fact, may have been Dad’s breaking point, considering he was a devout Christian.)
But all of that’s beside the point.
If soulmates were real, that would mean a couple of things:
- Marlene’s parents weren’t meant for each other, meaning Marlene wasn’t meant to be here.
- There’s a chance Marlene could spend the rest of her life searching for something she might never find.
- Marlene would need someone else to make her feel whole.
Yeah, absolutely not.
So, right there, at the ripe age of seven, Marlene vowed to never believe in soulmates. She wouldn’t let one book, one story, one myth ever convince her of such a vile thing.
No one ever told her how fucking difficult it would be.
April 1969
Marlene strongly believes that girls and boys can be friends without it being weird, no matter what Angelina Trowley from her choir class says. This is made very clear when a (nasty) boy with mud-covered glasses knocked on their front door for water while she was snipping flower petals off her mother’s roses.
First of all, those are preposterous manners.
Secondly, who in the world does that?
James Potter, everybody! The boy who knocked on Marlene McKinnon’s front door when he was nine, wooed her mother with his puppy-dog eyes and his two missing front teeth, and eternally damned Marlene with his presence for the rest of her life.
With both her nagging mother and this persistent creature in her life, she had no choice but to inevitably relent to their incredibly bothersome tendencies and endure their long, painful conversations, which went something like this:
“Soooo, what’s your name?” (It took him some time to learn Marlene’s name.)
“Marlene.”
“Wow! That’s so pretty—[insert voice trailing off due to withering glare]... or not?”
“Hm.”
“Soooo, what do you like to do for fun?”
“Scoop roadkill off the side of the road and rip out its ribs to make toothpicks.”
“Oh.”
[Insert Marlene enjoying a second of peace.]
“Sooo—”
Yeah, that was pretty much the gist of it.
Eventually, he learned Marlene’s name, learned to not call anything about her pretty, and learned, most importantly, that she did not, in fact, rip out the bones of dead creatures. Though, she had to admit, she might just have made an exception for James.
November, 1970
“Oh, thank Merlin,” Marlene groaned, flopping back against the beanbag. Her dark hair spilled over the edges, snaking down to the floor.
Her mother seemed to have made it her life’s goal to scare away her children, because from the second the owl arrived bearing her invitation to Hogwarts, Marlene’s mother had not had the sense to leave her alone. To be clear, the letter had arrived at midnight.
It was now two in the afternoon. She was tired .
Her brother, Sam, protested, “No, no, nonono, get out, otherwise Mum’s gonna come in here too, and guess what? I don’t want Mum coming in here to disrupt the nice environment—”
“You’ve built for yourself, yeah, yeah, cut the crap, and let me hide out,” Marlene rolled her eyes.
“No, absolutely not. Get out. Marlene, I’m serious. She’s not coming in here.”
“Stop being such a worrywart. You haven’t even wished me a happy birthday yet,” Marlene said gleefully, turning over on the beanbag.
“I’ll do it once I know Mum won’t come barging in here.”
Honestly, he’s the most stubborn person on the planet. Marlene couldn’t fathom how they came from the same family, because she was nothing like him.
“Let me stay.”
“Or what?”
Marlene grinned cheekily. “Or I’m gonna yell at the top of my lungs for Mum, and we’ll both be in hell.”
“Bloody hell, Marlene!” Sam fell back against his pillow dramatically, as if it were the end of the world. Bloody drama queen.
“Three,” Marlene jeered.
“You’re too scared,” he said confidently.
“Two,”
“Bloody coward,” he muttered, a little less confidently.
“One,”
“You wouldn’t,” he whispered, in utter fear.
“MU—”
“Alright, fine, stay, just shut up!” Sam snapped, finally giving in.
“Wow, thanks for offering, Sammy!” She said with false cheer.
“I’ll curse you.”
“Still haven’t wished me.” She put her head in her hands, looking up at her brother.
After a long pause, Sammy sighed.
“Birthday.”
August, 1971
"Alright, my dearies, goodbye! Marlene—have fun at Hogwarts, I’ll see you during the holidays, alright? Sam—don’t kill anyone. And for Merlin’s sake, stay with your sister during the train ride."
They dutifully answered, "Yes, Mum."
Both of them glanced at each other in unison, wordlessly agreeing that they would not be doing that. She kissed them both on the tops of their heads and shooed them off toward the train, which was blowing its last whistle, signaling its near departure.
Out of their mother’s earshot, Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever you do, stay away from me, Marlene. I don’t want any of my friends seeing you."
Marlene huffed. "Yeah, well, I don’t want to see any of those tossers anyway—"
"Bye, Marlene,” He sang teasingly, “Don’t die."
"That’s not funny!" She called after him, suddenly feeling a little lonely.
Marlene looked around, suddenly feeling much smaller without an older presence nearby. Here, alone, she was no more than a sticky eleven-year-old whose mother had chosen Muggle yoga over staying until the train actually left. No other kid was alone—either being smothered by their parents or laughing with their friends. All except one girl, who seemed dead set on giving everyone a death glare. Is that what everyone here's like?
Just as she had started to overthink, she heard a familiar voice call her name.
"Marlene!" James shouted behind her, and she spun around, eager to see a face she knew.
She almost squealed, but remembering the dignity she had carefully packed in her backpack, so she cleared her throat and managed a dignified, "James."
"Hiya, tosser," he greeted her, ruffling her perfectly pinned hair.
She groaned, slapping his hand away. "Keep your slimy hands away, or I'll—"
"End my entire bloodline, yes, I know," he finished, exceptionally cheerful for a dead person.
He took Marlene’s arm and began dragging her toward the train, shouting, "Bye!" over his shoulder to his mum before pulling them into a compartment.
"Sooo, are you ready for Hogwarts?"
"No," she replied grumpily, already in a bad mood because of...
Well, she couldn’t particularly think of a reason. But there was always a reason.
"Well, I'm excited, so I’ll be excited enough for both of us. Ladoo?"
If there was one good thing about James Potter, it was his mum, Euphemia Potter. She made the most delicious sweets—ladoo, halva, and Marlene’s favorite: kheer. Marlene’s mouth watered just thinking about it, but just as she reached to take one, she was interrupted by what looked like an extremely sweaty and well-fed boy.
When she said interrupted , she meant more like collided with , as her arm acted as a barrier between her and the odd boy who seemed very desperate to get into their cabin.
"Er, mate, you alright?" Marlene wasn’t a monster. If the poor boy was panting like a beast was chasing him, she figured she might as well ask.
James chimed in. "Yeah, you look like you’ve seen a ghost."
The boy looked thoroughly disturbed, his voice shaking as he said, "Not a ghost. A Black."
Marlene had no idea what he was talking about, but there was no way she’d let these two know that. So she simply matched the horrified expression on his face. James, on the other hand, wasn’t having any of it.
"Oh, come off it! No way. They can’t be that scary!"
"Bloody hell, mate, he looked like he was about to rip my eyes out and feed them to me! He was chasing and screaming after me and everything!"
Marlene felt as confused as James looked. "Are you sure—"
It was almost comical, the scene that unfolded next. The boy who entered the cabin had to be the most beautiful person Marlene had ever seen—dark locks falling to his shoulders, piercing grey eyes scanning the compartment, and a toothy grin plastered on his face. His gaze lit up when it landed on Sweaty.
"Mate, your laces are untied! I don’t think you heard me, since you started running like a bloody hound dog!" he laughed.
Marlene bit back a laugh as Sweaty (she had decided to call him that) mouthed the word laces to himself, looking utterly bewildered.
"Ha... Sorry about that, Black," Sweaty stammered nervously.
Black held out his hand with a shrug. "It’s fine. I’m used to it. It’s Sirius, by the way."
James, who couldn’t stand not being the center of attention for more than two seconds, burst out as Sweaty shakily reached to shake Sirius’s hand, “Hi! I’m James! This is Marlene!”
Marlene managed a grimace, wondering how in the bloody hell she’d gotten herself into this situation. She gritted her teeth—James. It was always James. She was going to kill the spawn of Satan himself when they got out of the compartment.
“Hi,” she said weakly, giving them a small wave.
Sweaty scratched the back of his neck and muttered, “I’m Peter.”
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Marlene decided she’d had enough.
“Well, Sirius, Peter,” she said, giving James a pointed look, “ Potter. It’s been great meeting you, but I think I heard something about the candy trolley that goes around? Yes, yeah, I think I’ll go look for that!”
“No, Marlene, I think that’s more toward the middle of the train ride…”
“Hm, nooo, I think it might come early,” she said, trailing off with the biggest smile she could muster—then rushed out of the compartment, ignoring James’s confused cries after her and Peter’s request for her to bring back Chocolate Frogs.
Desperate to escape whatever that was, she flung herself into the nearest compartment, praying to Merlin that it wasn’t anyone weird, or older, or judgy, or smelly, or of the lesser sex—or... wow, that was a long list of the possible people that could be at Hogwarts.
It’s not like she was completely unaware of Hogwarts. Her mother, when she was in a good mood, would go on long rants and tangents about how the school itself was magical without magic (whatever that meant), how it was a place that brought people together (doubt it), and how it was the best place on Earth for a young witch or wizard to live (her mother liked to spew a lot of useless things).
Marlene knew about the Houses. She knew basic spells. She knew some magical history. But for the most part, she was as blind as a Muggleborn walking into Hogwarts for the first time. Her mother had been tight-lipped about how the school actually worked, preferring instead to go on about mystical nonsense and magical hogwash that never made any real sense.
It was fine. Marlene could fend for herself. She didn’t need help from her mother, or James, or—
“Hiya! Do you need help? Are you looking for someone?”
—Or from this random, extremely beautiful girl.
Merlin, why is everyone here so pretty?
So was the girl next to her, with flaming red hair and no shortage of freckles.
“Yeah, we could help you!” Her green eyes looked up at Marlene earnestly, and Marlene was suddenly at a loss for words.
“I—yeah…” They seemed alright. “Can I sit with you guys?”
The beautiful girl who’d spoken first lit up, her curls bouncing as she nodded furiously.
“Yes, of course! Lily and I—That’s Lily,” she added, nodding toward the red-haired girl, “We were just talking about how excited we were to start Hogwarts. I mean, we’d never even heard about it, and then a random witch shows up at our door, announcing that we were witches—isn’t that so exciting?”
Oh god.
Marlene smiled, knowing she had a long ride ahead of her, and nodded. “Sure is.”
After a few hours of talking, Marlene knew a couple of things about them.
First, their names were Mary and Lily.
Mary talked a lot, while Lily nodded a lot.
They were both Muggleborns. They didn’t know anything about Hogwarts and expected Marlene to tell them everything.
And most importantly—
They weren’t all too bad.
November, 1971
The first few months at Hogwarts were pretty mundane after the Sorting. She had been placed into Gryffindor, which felt especially odd given her Hufflepuff lineage. James, of course, was also in Gryffindor. She learned that Peter had been sorted into Gryffindor too, and though that was surprising, nothing could quite beat the Sorting Hat calling out "Gryffindor!" a minute after Sirius Black placed it on his head.
Marlene didn’t know much about the kid, but even she could tell it wasn’t a small thing for a pureblood with centuries of Slytherins in his family to end up in a different House. She was pleased when Mary and Lily were both sorted into Gryffindor too, and even happier when they discovered they’d be rooming together.
After that, though, things started to feel a bit redundant.
Charms with Hufflepuffs, Potions with Slytherins, Transfiguration with Ravenclaws, Defense Against the Dark Arts with Slytherins, History of Magic with Hufflepuffs... on and on and on.
The only out-of-the-ordinary thing that had happened since the term started was when the professors woke up on Halloween wearing costumes, and it took Dumbledore himself to remove them. The credit for that would go to James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin.
Lupin was an odd one, with scars all over his face but a very shy persona. Really, Marlene felt bad for him, with all the rumors flying around about him.
I heard that he fell off a four-story building!
I heard that he was in a fire as a baby!
I heard that—
"For Merlin's sake, shut up!" Mary snapped at the girl who was spreading the latest rumor. "It's not like Remus is deaf. He's sitting right there!"
She pointed at the sandy-haired boy, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
He scratched his head and awkwardly started, "Er—"
"Yeah, leave Remus alone!" Sirius Black had suddenly appeared at Remus’s side, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"Shh!" Everyone spun around to see a murderous Madam Pince, holding a finger up to her lips.
Sirius smiled apologetically at the librarian, who huffed and looked away.
Mary faced Sirius, looking him up and down, "Oi, Black. What's it to you?"
Sirius' grin grew tight, as did his grip on Remus, "Remus is my best mate, aren't ya?"
Marlene felt even worse from the kid, who seemed to be willing the ground beneath his feet to open.
"Yeah, Black," He choked out, his burning face too pitiful to look at.
Mary gave him an unimpressed smile.
"How charming."
Marlene knew she liked Mary for a reason.
January, 1972
Marlene figured out that she had quite the knack for flying. Well, at least that's what Madam Hooch said.
She had to admit, it was rather freeing being up in the air, able to do whatever. To spin in a circle midair, to hang upside down until the blood rushed to your face, to feel your hair whipping as you flew as fast as you could.
Yeah, it’s alright.
At least she’s not Lily, who couldn’t get the broom off the ground for the life of her. She stood there for an hour, her face burning as bright as her hair, tears brimming in her eyes, hand stuck out over her impertinent broom.
"Up!" Nothing.
"Up!" Nothing.
"UP!" Yeah… still nothing.
Not that Marlene pities her, though, as Lily excelled in every subject. It wasn’t fair. Marlene was a Half-blood and knew more about wizards, so how did Lily know everything?
"Yeah, she’s amazing, isn’t she?" James said dreamily. Marlene swore that he swooned.
Marlene groaned, slapping his arm. "James!"
He jumped and scratched his head sheepishly. "Sorry, Marls. But she’s just so great."
"That’s what’s so unfair," Marlene whined.
An unfamiliar hard look came into James’ eyes.
"Just admit you’re jealous, Marls. Don’t blame this on whose blood is purer. You know I don’t believe in that rubbish."
Marlene glanced at James, not used to this serious version of him. She elbowed him a little softer than she usually would.
"You know I don’t believe in that either, and I’m not jealous. She’s just so good at everything without even trying, and it’s infuriating!"
Marlene heard the hysteria in her voice and grimaced, unable to meet James’ eyes, who seemed to be looking at her with pity. "I mean, there’s plenty you’re good at. Like flying! You were one of the first to get the broom up!"
"Yeah, and Sirius was the first," she grumbled.
He leaned in close. "And you’re bloody brilliant at making everyone laugh."
Marlene felt her face heat up and shrugged off his compliment. "I guess."
"C’mon, cheer up," James knocked his shoulder into Marlene’s. "Let’s sneak down to the kitchens and get some hot chocolate."
She rolled her eyes with a smile and looked at him. "Thanks, James."
"'Course, Marls."
"James?" She said before she could overthink it.
He turned around. "Hm?"
"You're an alright friend."
He grinned.
"Back 'atcha, Marls."
February, 1972
February greeted Hogwarts with a thick layer of snow blanketing the campus, the air so cold it seemed to melt whenever someone laughed. Marlene wasn’t entirely sure why she was outside the castle. Lily was in the library studying with Remus, Mary was off doing Merlin knows what, and James was serving his tenth detention of the term alone. So, it’s not like she had anything else to do.
Here she was, dragging her fingertips across the frosted stone, humming absentmindedly to herself. Honestly, in such a chaotic environment, loneliness seemed to find her company quite easily.
"Wotcher, McKinnon!"
Or not.
Marlene turned, smiling at Lily, whose hair whipped around her face as she waved frantically. The sight was adorable, and Marlene couldn’t help but shout back, "Oi, Evans, don’t run so fast, you’ll trip!"
Lily laughed, almost slipping on the icy ground. Marlene snorted, shaking her head as Lily made her way toward her.
By the time Lily reached her, she was a little out of breath. "I made it."
Marlene grinned. "Here I was thinking I’d have to carry you to the infirmary."
Lily raised an eyebrow. "Merlin knows how long Madam Pomfrey’s rant would be if I came in with a broken neck from slipping on the snow."
"Please," Marlene groaned. "No more talk about rants. McGonagall’s class has traumatized me enough already."
Lily tilted her head, studying her. "That was yesterday."
"Your point?" Marlene deadpanned, a smile tugging at her lips when Lily rolled her eyes. "Like you’d care, you little genius."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"I am far, far away from being a genius, McKinnon."
"Way to kick me while I’m already down. Ouch, Evans."
"What do you me— Oh, Marlene!" Lily threw her hands up in exasperation. "You’re plenty smart, don’t say that."
"Whatever you say, Evans," Marlene sang, amusement clear in her voice.
Lily took a breath, ready to dive back into her lecture. "I think that if you just applied yourself more, then you could—"
Marlene’s mind drifted as Lily continued, droning on about applying yourself and studying hard. She nodded occasionally, humming in agreement, while her eyes wandered to the windowsill. An idea sparked, one that would surely annoy Lily, but that only made it more perfect.
Without missing a beat, Marlene stuck out her hand and scooped up a handful of snow. As Lily rambled on about studying this and applying yourself to that, Marlene shaped the perfect snowball in her hands.
It was flawless. Truly, a work of art. It helps when your friend too busy being more obsessed with academics than James is with Quidditch to notice.
"But even if you don’t, Marlene," Lily was saying, "I’ll still think—"
Marlene didn’t care what Lily would still think, not when she was already putting distance between them.
Lily turned around, hands on her hips. For a moment, she looked just like Marlene’s mother.
"Honestly, where did you go—"
Splat.
The snowball didn’t land exactly where Marlene intended, but it definitely hit its target.
Lily gasped, eyes wide. "Marlene McKinnon, did you just throw a snowball at me?"
Marlene froze, unsure if Lily was angry or not. "Maybe?"
"Oh, Marlene," Lily sighed, giving her a long look. "Only Merlin can save you now."
Huh?
"Huh?"
Splat!
Oh.
Well, if Lily Evans wanted to do it that way, then fine.
She mock cried out and picked up another snowball, tossing them back and forth with Lily. Their laughter rang throughout the campus as snowballs flew through the air, and by the end of it, Marlene was drenched in icy water. Still, there was a persistent warmth inside of her, one that made her giddy and unable to stop smiling. It was unnatural, but Marlene couldn't find it in herself to dislike it.
It was odd, because this whole time at Hogwarts, the most at home she had ever felt was with Lily Evans.
April, 1972
"Lily!"
Marlene grimaced, recognized the nasally voice all too well. He hadn't been much of a bother to them throughout the year, but James had developed a bad habit of whinging about him as small talk.
Lily spun around, her fiery hair whipping into Marlene’s face. She choked on some of the strands—though she had to admit, it didn’t taste half bad. She really needed to ask Lily what shampoo she used.
"Not now, Sev," Lily said, not unkindly, about to turn away when a hand clamped onto her shoulder.
Marlene and Mary exchanged a knowing look, remembering all too well the last argument between Lily and Snape
Lily had slammed their dorm room door shut, tears flowing down her face, and hidden under her covers. They were both too surprised to immediately help her, but as soon as their senses returned, they'd begun to coo and beg her to come out from under the sheets.
"No."
Sniffle.
"Er, Lily, maybe you’d feel better if you talked about it?"
"No."
Another sniffle.
"Fancy a walk? We could sneak down to the kitchens?"
"No."
Another sniffle.
They had looked at each other helplessly, when Marlene had an idea.
"I know! How about a study session?"
She had begrudgingly come out from underneath the covers at that, muttering about an essay Slughorn had assigned. Marlene and Mary had sighed in relief when she wasn’t crying anymore, only to jinx it the moment Mary mentioned Potions partners.
"Severus doesn’t care about me!" Lily wailed, her essay growing increasingly wet.
Mary wrinkled her nose, as she always did when Snape was mentioned, but nevertheless said, "No, I’m sure he does. What did he do now?"
"H-his friends called me a M-Mudblood, and he told me later that I wasn’t like the rest of the Muggleborns, so it didn't count," Lily sniffled.
Mary looked outraged. "No bloody way. And he didn’t even apologize?"
Lily cried even harder at that.
Marlene, speechless, had no idea what to do. She'd never had to comfort a crying friend or deal with what Mary called 'a toxic friendship.'
"Lily, maybe you shouldn't be friends with him."
"B-but," Lily looked at her with puppy-dog eyes, her blubbering beginning again.
Bloody hell, why does everybody have those?
"Shh, Lils, it's okay, it'll be alright," Marlene said, awkwardly patting her friend's back.
Marlene shuddered at the memory. Never again.
Lily flinched at the hand on her shoulder and spun around.
"Severus! Don't."
Marlene had never heard Lily's voice so venomous and decided that she would not be dealing with a crying Lily tonight. She had about five essays due and no time for that.
Marlene had always liked to deal with things head-on, so why not deal with this right now?
"Snape," Marlene said, coming toe to toe with him, "She said not now.'"
"Marlene," Mary started cautiously, "Maybe you shouldn't."
"McKinnon," Snape sneered with an upturned nose. "This conversation's between Lily and me."
"There's not gonna be a conversation," Marlene said, pushing him back lightly.
Marlene wasn't scared of Snape. She towered over him, and even if she didn’t, she had more nerve than he ever would. She knew he wouldn’t do anything risking public humiliation, so she pushed him again, a little harder.
"Leave her alone, Snape, or I'll—"
"—Do nothing!" Mary cut in, her murderous eyes trained on Marlene.
Marlene rolled her eyes and glared at Snape. "Whatever. Just leave her alone right now."
Snape stuck his nose out, because he had no other response to people winning an argument, and walked away, muttering angrily under his breath.
Marlene shook her head and turned to face Lily, who was beaming at her.
"My savior!" Lily flung herself into Marlene's arms, sniffling against them.
Mary smiled at Marlene and tugged at a strand of her hair. "Our knight in shining armor, even."
Marlene giggled, immediately rethought her whole life, and then giggled again.
"I know, I know, I'm so amazing."
They giggled together, causing Marlene to giggle, again, and Merlin, she really needs to stop doing that.
June, 1972
The rest of the term had flown by without a hitch, with Marlene finally getting the hang of how she had to act around Mary and Lily. She now knew to stroke Lily's hair when she got teary, to agree furiously with Mary when she was venting, and most importantly, to say absolutely nothing when the two of them got snippy with each other. Not that they ever did, but on rare occasions, it was usually the best bet.
Snape had only bothered them two more times before Marlene and James had a private chat with him, telling him to leave Lily alone or he would find himself on the Great Hall's tables for breakfast the next morning.
James and Marlene hadn't really gotten the chance to talk very much second term, but that was because he was spending all of his time with The Marauders, which, if you ask Marlene, was an exceptionally stupid name. Although, that was all too fitting for the group, as Sirius, though he got top marks, had to have been the definition of tosser. Flipping his hair this way and that, flashing his ridiculously white teeth at every girl who glanced at him twice. Desperate. Peter wasn't too bad, just extremely clumbsy. He had spoiled Marlene's dress by spilling pumpkin juice all over it.
From the other side of table.
Marlene still couldn't find out how in the world he managed to do that.
He'd also dropped his books on Lily's head once, but as the saint she is, Lily had just laughed it off. But it's fine, Marlene could spend days describing each of the time's Peter'd messed up.
Remus Lupin was idiotic by association. Why a boy with such great potential chose to spend time with a group like that is truly the tragic question. He was the only one who could probably spell his name right, and with three wizards of pureblood lineage, that's got to have said something. Not that it matters, of course.
"Marlene, could you pass me the pumpkin juice," Peter asked, leaning over to grab it himself anyways. Honestly.
"Peter, do not! If you spill this, I'll wring the juice from the cloth into your mouth, I swear to Merlin."
"Poor Peter," Mary muttered into her plate, giggling to herself.
Marlene bumped her shoulder with hers and smiled, "Poor you, if you end up with a spoiled top again."
"I thank you for your duty, McKinnon."
"Anything for you, Macdonald."
"Evans, I would like you to know, I would never spill pumpkin juice on you," James said, so earnestly that it hurt.
"Wow, James, you know just how to woo a girl," Marlene rolled her eyes, sharing a look with Mary.
"Piss off, McKinnon, Evans loves me."
"Er- Potter, leave it alone," Lily replied awkwardly.
The smile fell from James' face, and he immediately straightened his back, turning to face Sirius.
Mary, Lily, and Marlene, all glanced at each other, and burst into a fit of giggles.
"Aw, shite!"
The three girls looked over the table to find Peter covered in pumpkin juice.
"Don't kill me, Marlene."
Marlene shrugged. "Nah, that's for James to do."
August, 1972
Marlene had been here too many times, rooted in this very spot once, and a million times before.
Her mother kissed her cheek and recited the same speech she had last time.
"Bye, my dearies!" She blew them both a kiss. "Have fun! Don’t get kicked out!"
"Bye, Mum," they replied simultaneously, glaring at each other as they did so.
As soon as Mrs. McKinnon had apparated away, Sam turned to Marlene. "Can't go one second without copying me, can you?"
Marlene scoffed, shoving him. "Tosser."
"That your only insult nowadays?" Sam jeered, in a foul mood for some reason.
"You're about as useful as a chocolate frog in the summer, mate. Now sod off."
Marlene laughed as he grumbled, walking off in a huff. She couldn’t help the genuine glee that bubbled up in her chest. She’d been writing to Mary and Lily all summer, but they hadn’t had a chance to meet up. This would be her first time seeing them in two months after spending the last ten months living with them.
"Marlene!" She heard Mary and Lily screech in unison.
She searched the platform for a second before spotting them. Without a second thought, she squealed and rushed over, nearly knocking them over in a hug.
"Oh my God, you wouldn't believe what happened this summer. Tuney was a bit cold with me, but when isn’t she these days…"
Marlene listened as they chattered excitedly, feeling only slightly guilty for tuning them out. Slightly.
"I'll be right back, I need use the loo," she muttered absently, eyes scanning the train for any sign of the it.
"Okay, Marls, see you," Mary waved at her.
Lily chimed in, "Yeah, save you a seat!"
Apparently, the train itself needed a bloody map, even though there was only one walkway to walk through.
"Bloody hell," she hissed under her breath after opening the third door, only to find a broom closet.
Honestly, who needs a broom closet on a train?
Just as Marlene thought she’d found the bathroom, she heard muffled voices from the compartment next door. Specifically, angry muffled voices.
Curse her penchant for drama, she thought to herself, as she leaned closer to the door.
Crash!
Great. It was just her luck that the one time she decided to be nosy was the one time a door would smash into her face.
"Bloody hell, are you alright?" a voice called from inside the cabin.
"Oh shit," said the girl who had opened the door, her face vaguely familiar.
"What, am I bleeding?" Marlene's hands flew up to her face.
She winced slightly, motioning to her mouth. "You’ve got a little—"
Marlene felt the split in her lip and sighed. "Thanks for that, by the way."
"I didn’t think there was going to be anyone listening in on our conversation. Apologies for that," the girl mocked.
"I wasn’t eavesdropping!" Marlene shot back defensively, even though she definitely was.
The girl raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "No? Then what were you doing, standing a centimeter away from the cabin door, facing it?"
"I—"
"Yeah, I don’t think talking’s gonna help the bleeding too much. Might wanna close your mouth for a few seconds."
For a moment, Marlene did—though not because this girl told her to. She was too stunned by her gall.
"Who even are you?" she asked, genuinely curious despite the irritation bubbling under her skin.
"Meadowes. Dorcas Meadowes." She stuck out her hand, clearly expecting Marlene to shake it.
Marlene stared at the outstretched hand, then up at her face. She couldn’t possibly expect Marlene to shake it.
"McKinnon," Marlene muttered, ignoring the hand entirely.
"No first name, McKinnon?" Dorcas pressed, smirking.
"Not for you, Meadowes."