Mary and Marlene
Mary Macdonald I
The wind blows through the strands of Mary’s hair, some blocking her eyesight, but never so she can’t see the many laughing people around her. She drags her feet as they make their way into the school they’ve been attending for years—a college she’s arriving at for the second time; first time was her audition, and now it’s her first day.
She isn’t aware of what this first day will be; if she’ll meet anyone she likes, or if everyone will be arrogant. It goes without saying that she deeply wishes it’ll be nothing but good experiences. However she’s a realist, so she doesn’t expect everything to be perfect, or she’ll read into something too much and it will no longer be anything good.
“Oh my god, you weren’t lying!” A redhead, definitely dyed hair, shouts and launches herself at Mary. Now her eyesight isn’t just blocked by her own hair, but the other girl’s. When the girl steps back, Mary’s eyes settle; Amelia. Amelia Bones. Her childhood sweetheart; eventually her good friend. Her eyes drop to the man behind her; Edgar. He waves with a soft smile on his face. “We missed you. Edgar told me that you were coming. I didn’t believe him, but here you are!”
“Here I am,” Mary finally manages. She wonders if the rest of her day is going to be like this. Smothered by people she barely knew; not that she doesn’t know Amelia, just that she has this weight in her chest that made it difficult to breathe, that after years of consistency in high school, everything is going to change.
“So,” Amelia swings her arm around Mary’s shoulders, both communicating silently to walk. She’s smiling; Mary can tell. Edgar walks on the other side of Mary, grinning at her when they share eye contact. “How have you been, beautiful?”
Only she could call her beautiful. Only she would. But it wasn’t anything personal; she called everyone honey, sweetie, sweetheart. Any pet name, really. Mary sometimes questions if that’s the reason she had a crush on Amelia so quickly. If that’s why she knew she was gay before she even knew what it meant.
“I’ve been okay, pretty girl,” Mary replies with a wink. “And you?”
“Better now,” she glances at her quickly. She removes her arm, swinging herself in front of Mary. “I’m guessing you don’t know many people here, so lucky you, I’ll be your tour guide.”
Mary grins widely, throwing her own arm around Amelia who blushes. “Very lucky,” she murmurs quietly. Amelia shakes her head, and mirrors Mary by lifting her arm, and resting it gently on Mary’s shoulder again.
“Shall I introduce you to all the cliques and groups?” Amelia shimmers her shoulder, smirking at Mary, who shrugs in response.
“Isn’t that a bit cliché?” Edgar mumbles. Amelia’s smile drops.
“Hey! New students need to have a cliché moment, or what’s the point of being new, Edgar?”
“You don’t need to try and have a movie moment every single day,” he replies dryly with the roll of his eyes. He’s older than her. Eleven months older, which Mary always found wild; their mother popped out one and two months later, she was pregnant with another one.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Eddie,” she winks, dropping her ear to her shoulder. He scowls, his face appearing as if he’s smelt something awful.
“Do not call me that, Meely,” he snaps. She rolls her eyes, scrunching her eyebrows. She shakes her head, and turns away. She squeezes Mary’s shoulder, pulling her closer.
“So you have us,” Amelia finally begins after many hiccups in the journey. She beams. Her smile is the sunshine. “Moi, Edgar, Miss Hestia Jones. Absolute beauty she is. Emmeline Vance. Yes, she is as hot as her name sounds. Emma Vanity. God’s greatest creation, that one. Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, our very beautiful girl, Sybill Trelawney and finally, our gorgeous, flawless Amos Diggory. I’ll put their faces to their names when we see them, but we have a specific spot.”
“Right,” Mary nods, trying to keep up in her whole storytelling process—the only thing she’s gathered is that Amelia is obsessed with a man named Amos Diggory. Edgar grips the strap of his bag that hangs over his shoulder, kicking the small pebbles that get in his way.
“Edgar, your turn,” Amelia announces.
His head snaps up—half-mortified. “No, I said I don’t partake in activities that encourage your movie moment obsessions.”
“C’mon, Edgar, just one,” Mary bites her bottom lip, leaning back. He sighs, glaring at her, telling her to take it back. But she raises her eyebrows in response, earning a loud sigh from him.
“So,” he says reluctantly, but Mary is sure he’s enjoying this. “Those four are The Marauders—you know James, but for some reason, they’re eighteen and still think it’s cool to have a group name. There’s Peter Pettigrew. He’s a whore. Sirius Black. I like her. She’s cool. And then Remus Lupin—a whole meal.”
“God, I wish I hadn’t dated James, so I could date him,” Amelia sighs, dropping her head on Mary’s shoulder. Mary observes him; his eyes running along the page of the book he’s holding. He only lifts his eyes when Sirius calls his name, dropping into the seat beside him, and then Remus’ eyes follow her as if nothing else exists.
“Why don’t you date them?” Mary says, partly ignoring the blatant love Remus Lupin has for Sirius Black.
“Not while Sirius is alive,” Edgar laughs. “I’m pretty sure as long as Sirius’ heart is beating, Remus’ belongs completely to her.”
Mary cringes. “Romantic?” She murmurs as a question. Amelia shrugs as she and Edgar tear their eyes away from the group.
And this is when Mary feels it; her heart stops beating. Or maybe time is moving so slowly she can’t feel it. Two girls sit at a table across from each other. One has long dyed red hair; Amelia has hers straightened, but this girl—her hair is long and curly.
“And who are those two?” Mary asks, pointing at the two.
“The redhead is Lily Evans. Basically a musical genius. Apparently. I’m in art, and Edgar’s in dance.”
Mary stares at Lily; she knows her. They met a couple of summers ago in a hotel. She was sixteen, and Lily was sixteen. They went to Australia for Christmas—Lily with her family, and Mary with her sister for another modelling tour. And there they were; spending every single day together. Days turned into weeks, and one day, it just ended.
Mary had been completely heartbroken, but she knew she had to move on. She never forgot her. How could she forget the pretty girl she had been completely infatuated with for three months?
And finally, Mary’s eyes find the girl sitting across from Lily Evans. The girl’s bleached, wavy hair falls over her shoulders, nodding along to whatever the other was ranting about. Her hand sits just under her chin, and her eyes move slowly away from her.
“The blonde one is Marlene McKinnon. Fittest actress in the school by far,” Amelia nods. “She’s also related to Damian McKinnon. Famous actor. You’ve probably heard of him. He’s not as good as her though. She’s friends with Edgar and I.”
Marlene’s eyes eventually settle on Mary. She’d feel caught if Marlene’s gaze wasn’t so warm; she’d feel caught if she didn’t feel like after years of searching, Mary found what feels like home. Just by a single gaze, all of the tension that had built up relentlessly was stripped away from her body. Yes, Amelia is the sunshine, but Marlene is the sun. The thing that produces all light. She blinks.
“Er, that’s Narcissa and Frank,” Amelia chews on her bottom lip. “Narcissa recently broke up with Lucius Malfoy. All of them are in dance, by the way. All the drama is. Ironic considering there are drama students here.”
“There’s drama everywhere, Amelia,” Edgar mumbles. “It’s not exclusively dance.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she waves her hand dismissively, her eyes searching the groups of people. “Theodore Nott—an absolute whore, but if you mess with Gideon, he’ll kill you. Gideon. Prewett. And then his twin, Fabian Prewett, Dirk Cresswell, who is an absolute sweetheart, Bellatrix Black, Narcissa’s sister, then there were three—Rodolphus, Rabastan and Rosmerta Lestrange. Then Lucius, and his little brother, gorgeous by the way, Xenophilius Malfoy.”
“Frank is also friends with them,” Edgar adds, murmuring.
“He is gorgeous,” Mary ignores Edgar’s last comment. She drops her head to the side, squinting her eyes to have a good look at him. She studies him; she likes Marlene better. The man lifts his eyes, and to her delight, he winks. She turns away immediately.
“He does have that effect,” Edgar whispers to himself, his eyes falling to the floor. Mary raises her eyebrows.
“You have a thing for him, don’t you?”
“No!” Edgar snaps. He folds his arms, glaring at her. “No, I don’t.”
“Right,” she winks, not entirely convinced.
“So anyway,” Edgar mutters, shooting one last glare at her before speaking. Amelia finds where he’s staring. “Them. They’re basically untouchable. Especially Pandora. You touch her, and Regulus Black, Barty Crouch, Evan Rosier, and Dorcas Meadowes may kill you.”
“And then there’s the group that’ll kill you for basically anything,” Amelia adds. She smiles. “Charity Burbage. Severus Snape. Her best friend. Septima Vector and Aurora Sinistra. You never see one without the other. Bruce Mulciber. Who is definitely in love with Severus. Edmund Avery Jr. Alecto and Amycus Carrow. Amycus is older, and Alecto has basically hooked up with every girl here. Rita Skeeter. Biggest gossip—I’m surprised Rita and Alecto haven’t gotten into a full on fist fight. And finally, Gilderoy Lockhart, and I don’t have much to say about him.”
“Right,” Mary says again.
“And here we are. With our beautiful group,” Amelia beams down at the group scattered around the two tables, all engaging in their own conversations.
“Amelia!” Emmeline jumps out of her seat, throwing her arms around Amelia. She reciprocates this action by sliding her hands up her back. Emmeline rubs her neck softly, letting go. Emmeline finds Mary standing alone, and stares. “I’m Emmeline Vance. Did you know this one has coincidentally been busy the entire winter break?”
“No, I didn’t,” Mary chuckles. Edgar has left her side, now sitting beside another girl in their group. She watches Amelia and Emmeline with their arms around each other.
“So all, this is Mary. Mary, this is Emmeline, obviously,” Amelia laughs. “Our queen, Hestia Jones.”
“Do not call me that,” Hestia smirks, a fire growing in her eyes. Mary lifts her eyebrows.
“Humble, isn’t she?” Amelia winks. She steps forward, allowing Emmeline’s arm to slide down her back. “Benjy and Caradoc. They’re okay. And Emma and Sybill. My favourites. They’re quiet. It’s peaceful with my girls. And then Amos. He’s my favourite before everyone.”
She hops up on the table, sliding beside him. He swings his arm around her. The two of them both hesitate before ripping their gaze away from each other. Mary knows they aren’t just friends at this moment.
“I love how you talk about them, and slaughter us,” Caradoc drawls, clicking his tongue whilst gesturing to himself and Benjy.
“Well Mary doesn’t want to know about you. Men are boring,” she sings. She picks herself off the table, dropping into the seat beside Emma Vanity. Emma glances at Mary, and gently raises her hand to wave. Mary nods in acknowledgement.
“Agreed,” Edgar whispers.
“One hundred percent,” Hestia adds.
“Oi Jones!” A voice calls out from a distance. All of their heads snap to the source, one of the twins running towards them. Hestia sighs loudly, a very soft grin settling on her face. “How are you today?”
“Well I was good,” she lifts her eyes to him. His eyebrows raise gently.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I am? Bet you missed me. It’s been two whole weeks,” Fabian smirks, lifting himself onto his tiptoes.
“God, you wish, Prewett,” she chuckles to herself. She tilts her head to the side, seeing him. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” he replies quickly; without a single pause—he has game. Mary licks her lips slowly, her eyes alternating between the two of them.
“Yeah, okay,” Hestia laughs, her hands dropping into her lap. “I’ll see you in dance. Unfortunately.”
“You’re excited,” Fabian tells her. “I can tell. You’re fiddling with your hands. You’re either nervous or you’re excited.”
“Okay, profiler,” Hestia’s smile drops, along with placing her hands flat on the table. “See you soon.”
“See you soon, sweetheart,” Fabian waves, winking.
“Wow, you were eye-fucking him even harder than usual,” Caradoc cackles, watching Fabian walk away. He hums under his breath. Hestia rolls her eyes. “He likes guys, right?”
“Yeah, he’s bisexual,” Hestia shrugs.
“You know that?” Emmeline asks, laughing.
“Bi for bi,” Caradoc bites his bottom lip, winking.
“Shut up,” she replies. Hestia finds Mary. “So, Mary, how’d you move here in the middle of the school year? Usually you have to audition before the term begins.”
“You think my brother pulled some strings?” Mary nods slowly. “My brother wouldn’t care enough to do that for me. I got in because of my talent, not because he would help me.”
The words come out as if something disgusting had reached her tongue. She scowls, but her eyes don’t leave Hestia. Hestia squints, and sighs as if she approves.
“So, are you coming?” She stands up abruptly as if she’d told Mary anything beforehand. Edgar swipes his bag from beside him, and rushes after her. Emmeline follows. “Macdonald!”
“Oh shit,” Mary grips onto the strap of her bag, smiles at the group, and runs after the three of them. Emmeline and Edgar walk a bit ahead of them.
Hestia clears her throat. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Mary smiles, softly nudging the other girl. “I’ve been dancing since I could walk. I’ve been through a lot worse.”
“I hear that,” Hestia shrugs, smiling.
“So what’s the deal with you and Fabian Prewett?” Mary says, walking into the dance studio, and finding him immediately. Hestia scoffs, sighing loudly.
“Nothing is going on with him and I,” she lies; very clearly. Because her eyes don’t leave him. Like they can’t leave him. Mary chuckles. “What?”
“You’re into him,” she tells her.
“No,” she shakes her head, dropping her bag on the floor as she reaches into it to get her ballet flats. Mary does the same, and they place their hands on the barre. Hestia stands in front of Mary. “He’s persistent. Loud. A complete show off, and he has everyone falling at his feet. Everyone’s in love with him. No matter how they’re in love with him, they just are. But not me.”
“Does that help you sleep at night?” Mary plies, softly lifting her arm. She lifts herself onto balls of her feet, turning to Hestia. She holds her leg right beside her ear. “Incredible flexibility. Jesus, Hestia. My brother would be obsessed with you.”
“And he’s not obsessed with you?” She scoffs. “Look at your arch.”
Mary smiles, blushing. “No. He’s too talented to pay attention to his amateur little sister.”
“He isn’t all that,” Hestia smirks, and Mary chews on her bottom lip. “I mean, it’d be embarrassing to not be as good as your little sister.”
She chuckles. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Hestia clicks her tongue with a wink, which is shortly followed by a shout from across the room. Emmeline is waving her over. “I’ll see you after class?” She asks, shoving her bag into one of the shelves.
“Yeah,” Mary nods quickly. Hestia blinks, and then she waves, and Mary is alone at the barre. Her eyes fly to the mirror, glancing around the room. Her eyes drop to the floor as she warms up by doing a couple more plies.
“Hello,” her thought process is ended by a woman’s voice—Mary looks at her, and she’s sure this is Narcissa. Her eyes fall back to Frank, and her theory is confirmed. “I’m Narcissa, I usually take this spot at the barre.”
“Oh,” Mary laughs to herself, stepping back, leaving enough room so Frank can step in front of her.
Narcissa’s eyebrows screw up. “You’re just going to let us have it? Oh honey, you are not going to last a week at this school.”
“What? Because I don’t want you plotting my murder?” Mary mumbles; although she announces it loud enough so Narcissa heard her. Frank chuckles, to which he earns a slap.
“No, because if I say that it’s my spot, you tell me you don’t see my name on the barre,” Narcissa replies. “You have to fight. If you don’t, are you really a dancer?”
“Yes,” Mary sighs, her hand dropping from the barre. “I know which battles are worth it, and that makes me one of the best. A spot at the barre doesn’t change my ability.”
“No, all you need is Alejandro, right?” Narcissa says. “As long as you’re recognised as his sister, you get whatever role you like.”
“No, I get whatever role I like because I care about ballet more than I care about being a bitch,” Mary licks her lip, and lifts her leg up; partly to intimidate Narcissa. Narcissa laughs.
“Don’t be too soft, love,” Narcissa whispers. “That doesn’t get you anywhere, sweetheart.”
“Just wait, Black,” Mary tells her, lifting her eyes. “I’ll show you.”
“I’m sure you will,” she nods. Her eyes move to every inch of Mary’s body, incredibly invasive. But Mary found she didn’t mind too much. “I love being proven right.”
“Oh, then I’m afraid you won’t be too thrilled with the result,” Mary mutters.
Narcissa stops. Mary sees it in her face. The tension wears off. She sighs. “I like you, Macdonald,” she rolls her eyes, turning her back to her. “Unfortunately.”
Mary smiles softly. “You’re lucky I like you, too. I could’ve made your life a living hell.”
“Don’t make any promises,” she says. “Bella could’ve made yours hell. If there’s one thing you don’t do, it’s underestimating the power of people below your rank.”
“You’re not below my rank,” Mary smirks at Narcissa, her eyes following up and down her body. She tilts her head to the side, taking her time to find Narcissa’s eyes again. “I’ve seen you dance.”
“Have you?”
“You’re incredible,” Mary utters.
“Yeah, you’re not too bad yourself, Macdonald,” Narcissa says, and this is shortly followed by a door following; a grown man enters through the door, a clipboard in his hand. He throws it onto the desk in the corner.
“Everyone, take your spots on the barre,” Gellert Grineldwald demands, and everyone immediately obliges to his request.
*
Mary is dancing. The rest of the world fades away when she does. It’s just her and the music. The music is so loud that it blocks out any other thought. Spinning so quickly that she doesn’t have time to take a second to think about everything else. She finds herself in the mirror a few times, almost immediately tears her eyes away.
The song ends, quickly followed by someone clapping. Mary’s head snaps to the source, finding Marlene McKinnon with a smirk on her face. She lifts her arm, twinkling her fingers to wave.
“Wow,” Marlene says; the first time Mary heard her speak. Mary had been wondering all day. Her voice is low; raspy almost. She speaks as if she’s afraid to raise her voice. “That was incredible. Mary Macdonald, correct?”
“Marlene McKinnon,” Mary bounces back.
“Hm, done your research, have you? Or have you seen the new, upcoming best film with Damian McKinnon?”
“Have you heard of the brand new fashion line, and their superstar model, Isabella Macdonald? Or do you enjoy watching ballet? Poster boy, Alejandro,” Mary deflects. Marlene raises her eyebrows, shoving her hands into her pockets. Mary rips her eyes away, grabbing the towel she set on the barre to wipe the sweat off her face.
“I mean, I can talk to a pretty girl without it having to do with her siblings, right?” Marlene smirks. Mary’s breath hitches, sighing out shakily. She deeply wishes to have the nerve to look at her, but she’d mess up.
“Sure, but I don’t see you talking to any pretty girls, McKinnon,” Mary replies.
“I’m looking at her,” Marlene stares at Mary, the heat circulating around the room. She takes small steps towards Mary; barely moving. “I could be your tour guide, y’know. I’ll show you around.”
“That’s too bad, I already have one,” Mary pouts sarcastically. Marlene chews on her bottom lip, studying the girl in front of her. Mary can’t look at her too long without butterflies fluttering in her stomach; without her heart skipping a beat.
“I’m better,” Marlene murmurs, her bottom of her back pressed against the barre. She folds her arms, leaning slightly closer to Mary.
“That’s awfully cocky,” Mary whispers, her eyes glued to the mirror. She plays with her hair.
“And you didn’t deny it either.”
Mary laughs. “No, I didn’t,” she confirms, finally building up the courage to stare at the taller woman, who smiles once their eyes meet.
“I like you, Mary,” Marlene says.
“You just met me,” she chuckles, beginning to walk away from her. Marlene follows her like a desperate puppy, which is sad, because Mary knows it’ll break her heart just as much when she has to break Marlene’s.
“And somehow, I feel like I’ve known you for lifetimes,” Marlene lifts up her arms, so obviously a drama student. Mary glances back at her; she has a short wolf cut, which suits her better than anything else in her imagination. She spins around,
She scoffs. “No, you’re an idiot.”
“Tell me you don’t like me,” Marlene tells her.
“Why would I do that?” Mary furrows her eyebrows.
“You can’t,” she smirks proudly.
“You are arrogant, aren’t you?”
“I’m fit.”
“Overweening.”
“Hot.”
“Bold,” Mary swings herself in front of Marlene’s body. She places her hands on hips, her strap slowly sliding down her shoulder. She clears her throat when Marlene’s smirk grows wider. “What’d you want anyways?”
“I saw you earlier today,” Marlene shrugs her shoulders. “Just wanted to introduce myself.”
“Oh,” Mary sighs. She smiles, inviting Marlene to walk out with her. Marlene nods. “We’ll redo this whole thing, then?”
“No,” she says. “I like you already, Mary. Certainly a dancer.”
Mary gasps jokingly. “And what is that supposed to mean, Marlene?”
“You’re sort of fearless,” Marlene tells her. “You’re confident. Even if you were to doubt yourself, you mask it crazily well. A new school, and you speak to me as if you’ve known me forever.”
“And what happened to the ‘we’ve known each other for lifetimes’? Oscar Wilde.”
“Emily Dickinson,” Marlene corrects, matter-of-fact. Mary looks at her, furrowing her eyebrows. “A sapphic poet. Keep up, Macdonald.”
Mary laughs. “You think you’re like Emily Dickinson?”
“You don’t?” Marlene places a hand over her chest as if her heart has been harmed. Mary nudges her, leaning sideways to dig her shoulder into Marlene’s. Marlene lifts her shoulders, a shameless expression on her face. Mary turns her head away, finding Amelia and Edgar waiting for her.
“Oh, I’m going with Amelia,” Mary points to her in the distance. Marlene smiles.
“You know Amelia?” She asks.
“Yeah, I went to primary school with her,” Mary nods slowly; she also knows Marlene’s best friend. Though she would never admit it. She needs to leave her and Lily in the past. She glances up at Marlene, whose hands are still shoved in her pockets. There’s a fair height difference between the two of them. “I also know James.”
“Oh, do you?” Marlene says. “He’s my boy. One of my favourites at the school. Just proving even further you should let me show you around.”
“Amelia is showing me around at school,” Mary states, twisting her body slowly. “I just moved to a new area. I don’t know the area that well outside of school.”
“What are you proposing, Mary?” Marlene smirks, leaning closer so their faces are centimetres apart. Mary grins, and messes up Marlene’s hair.
“We’ll hang out outside of school,” she shrugs.
“Oh, so we’re hanging out, are we? I’m not just your tour guide.”
“Shut up, McKinnon,” Mary almost giggles; within five seconds of seeing Marlene McKinnon, she has Mary weak in every single inch of her body. “Maybe you can write down your number, though? I mean, you can put it in my phone.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Marlene replies, taking her hands outside of her pockets.
She rests them on her waist as Mary fumbles through the objects in her bag, eventually finding the heaviest one at the bottom. She places it in Marlene's hand, their skin softly brushing against each other. Mary snatches her hand away, the blood rushing quickly in her cheeks. She drops her gaze.
Marlene scrunches her eyebrows with a subtle smirk this time, and begins typing the digits into her phone. Mary glances back at Amelia, who has clearly been watching this entire interaction. She’s bouncing up and down slightly, with her thumbs up. Mary glares at her, tilting her head as she attempts to get Amelia to stop before Marlene notices.
“Here,” Marlene murmurs, and Mary snaps her head to her. She smiles nervously, waving. “I called my number so I have yours, too.”
“Smooth,” Mary nods slowly. Marlene’s face relaxes, dropping her head so she sees the ground. “I’ll text you. Later. Unless you text me first. But I’ll still text you if you text me, because I’d kind of be a bitch if I didn’t text you if you texted me. But er, if you don’t text me, I’ll text you. But then again, how will I know that you’re going to text me? Erm.”
She looks up to find Marlene’s face growing into a light pink as she suppresses a laugh. “You’re cute, Macdonald,” she says, finally lifting Mary’s phone to her hand. She gently grabs the back of her hand, setting the phone down on her hand. “I’ll text you tonight. I promise.”
Mary sighs in relief. She nods her hand. Marlene winks, and walks away from her.
*
And Marlene keeps her word; Mary finds this out as her phone buzzes on her bedside table. Her head snaps to the source of the sound, shuffling her body so she can find the notification from the hot girl from earlier. Mary grins widely, and answers the text.
The hot girl from earlier: hey! i think you’ll be able to work it out for yourself who this is. answer, and i’ll call you
Me: Okay!
And again, Marlene keeps her word.
“Mary!” Her voice says.
“That’s me,” she replies. immediately cringing, because what the fuck? “Sorry. Er, you know that. That was stupid. I’m sorry.”
“Things you think are stupid are some of my favourite things about you,” Marlene whispers.
“You met me today.”
“Hey, Mary, we’ve known each other for lifetimes. Consistency, my girl.”
“That’s on me. My bad.”
“You’re perfect,” she says without a pause.
Mary considers this. She waits. “You barely know me,” she decides. “Look, lifetimes and whatever, McKinnon. But when you get to know me, I doubt you’ll like me.”
“I dunno, Macdonald,” Marlene coos. “I think you have to give me a chance to like you before you make my decisions for me.”
“Okay. How long do I give you, then?” Mary asks, tilting her head as she rolls onto her stomach. She grins, pushing her hand through her hair. She licks her lips.
“There’s usually a party at the end of the first week. Teachers allow just one when terms resume, but no alcohol or whatever. But this one is like a winter ball. I’ll decide then.”
“Alright,” Mary drops onto her back, shutting her eyes. The possibilities flash through her eyes; Marlene McKinnon. What a woman? That is all Mary thinks.
“But hey, if you’re not comfortable with me acting like this, please tell me. I don’t want to harass you,” Marlene adds.
Mary’s eyes shoot open, panicking. “No. Not at all. You’re not harassing me. I promise.”
“Okay,” her voice is gentle. “Okay, I’m glad.”
*
“I fucking hate the pas de deux,” Edgar rubs his forehead, sighing loudly. He drops his head to the barre. Mary slides her hand to his, shaking it reassuringly. But she’s barely able to think; unable to control the smile that grows on her face at the thought of Marlene McKinnon. “How’d you meet Marlene?”
“Er, we ran into each other, I guess,” Mary snaps back to reality with a shrug. She turns to the mirror, doing an arabesque as she holds onto the barre.
Edgar’s eyebrows screw up. “Have you met her before?”
“Dunno,” Mary replies. That’s partly true, really. Their paths have had to cross at some point; their siblings are in similar industries, and now they go to the same school. “I guess I—”
“Hey Edgar,” the boy Edgar pointed out the day before, Frank Longbottom, calls out. He pirouettes, spotting himself in the mirror. He smiles when he finds Edgar after six flawless pirouettes and a perfect landing. “Hope you’re well.”
Edgar hums a small mhm under his breath. Frank nods.
“I would’ve chosen you as my pas de deux partner, but we had to choose the opposite sex,” he tells him as he uses the spot on the barre beside Edgar. Edgar nods, and Mary smirks. Amelia is in love with Amos, and her theories about Xeno and Edgar are now debunked and replaced with Frank Longbottom. “How are you? Tell me everything.”
“There’s not much to tell,” Edgar mumbles.
“No, Edgar here is full of stories,” Mary smirks. “Really, he never stops talking. Amelia was complaining about how much. Dunno… he needs to be taken on a date or something.”
“Because small talk is stupid,” Edgar nudges her. “I don’t engage in it.”
“It’s not small talk,” Frank points his toes on his right foot, staring at his hips to make sure they’re still square. Mary raises her eyebrows; he isn’t just a pretty face. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, you’re friends, aren’t you?” Mary drawls. Edgar glares at her. She lifts her shoulders with a showy innocent grin.
“Sure,” Edgar says.
“Would you like to hang out after school?” Franks blurts out. Mary’s eyes widen as she tilts her head to the side. Edgar visibly blushes, spinning away from Frank. Although subtle, he shuffles away slowly. “Erm. For dancing. So I can do the pas de deux with who I'd like to do it with. It’s up to you, love.”
“Okay.” Edgar nods. If it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t have understood, but Frank’s grin reveals he gets Edgar.
“Cool. I’ll text you later. Or we can meet at the front,” his voice grows slightly louder as he backs away from him and back to his own group. He winks again; and god, he’s gorgeous. He is nothing compared to Marlene, but he is something.
“Yeah,” he says.
Mary laughs once Frank is out of ear shot. She drops her head to the barre, bursting after suppressing it for the last five minutes. Edgar nudges her with a soft kick to the back of her knee.
“You and Amelia really need to grow a pair and just tell them how you feel,” Mary tells him, staring into his eyes. “Seriously, that man is in love with you, and you need to tell him.”
“Okay, Lady McKinnon.”
“Oh, shut up,” she blushes, pushing him as the doors swing open, signalling that the class is about to start.
Marlene McKinnon I
Marlene’s tote bag hangs on her shoulder, only having a book and a pen in case. She finds James and immediately makes her way to him. He leans back on the wall, and he is an attractive man, Marlene thinks. His jawline is defined, and he has these big brown eyes with a smile that can light up an entire room; she looked at him for ages in high school, hoping he would be it. He would be the boy who made her feel normal, and she can appreciate his beauty, but she isn’t attracted to it.
“Hello,” Marlene grins, dropping her bag on the floor. He nods, smirking.
“You’re happy,” he murmurs, gently dropping his head to the side. She shrugs.
“I met a girl,” Marlene coos.
“Did you now?” James pushes himself off the wall, straightening his back. She lifts her shoulders, along with her hands. “Who is she?”
“Mary Macdonald,” Marlene tells him. She hadn’t been expecting him to know her, really. She didn’t expect him to remember his primary school days, but as his face lights up in the most James Potter way, she knows he does.
“I used to be friends with her in primary school,” James’ face relaxes. “So, tell me everything. Tell me more. Tell me more. Like does she have a car?”
Marlene has gotten used to James’ random outbursts of getting into character, so she doesn’t react.
“Well she was very—how do I put this? I guess, sort of cold at first,” Marlene shrugs. “But she warmed up to me, and we’re friends too.”
“Friends?” James says with disappointment.
“Well unlike you, James Potter, I don’t rush into things because of love at first sight,” she rolls her eyes, nudging him softly—that’s a lie; something about Mary Macdonald makes Marlene want to throw her morals away, and rush into a relationship with her. He chuckles.
“Life must be so sad,” he pouts jokingly. “I’m making progress with Regulus though. He asked me on a date.”
“He what?” Marlene gapes. “He asked you on a date?!”
“No need to sound so flabbergasted, Marls,” James smiles at her.
“But I am flabbergasted. Good on you, Potter.”
“Why, thank you, M’lady,” he announces quietly, digging his elbow into her side. She pushes him away, and the door of the room opens slowly. Minerva McGonagall—Marlene’s hero—enters; a stern expression always. “Minnie!”
“What have I told you, Potter?” Minerva glares at him. “Minerva or McGonagall.”
“But Minnie fits perfectly,” James replies.
“James,” the older woman repeats. “I’ll tell your mother.”
He gasps. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, try me,” Minerva says to him. Marlene smirks, lifting a hand to her mouth to shield it from the teacher; it has always been the worst feeling to get yelled at by her. She is fair, so it always makes it feel worse. “Now—we are getting ready for our plays at the end of this school year. so I will be watching all of you. Observing you. Seeing what roles will fit you as people. Before we do the auditions, I want to see how you work together. So I have a few scenes that I would like you to choose from. You work in pairs, or by yourself. Miss Black—Bellatrix, can you tell us what Little Women is?”
“It’s known as one of the best books of all time,” Bellatrix announces lazily. She alters most of her body weight onto her leg left, a hand on her waist. She shrugs. Marlene admires her, really. She’s brilliant. “Personally, I don’t think so.”
“Hm, why is that?” Minerva leans forward, interested.
“Because Jo is a lesbian, and she got married to a man,” Bellatrix says. A few whispers rise around the room. She rolls her eyes. “And then had kids with him. I think her ending was very contradictory. Because why write her one way if she gets married in the end; something she said she’d never do.”
“Fascinating,” Minerva smiles; she, clearly, has a soft spot for her—Bellatrix is her favourite student, besides James, of course. “I do hope to see you act as Jo. It would suit you.”
Bella nods. “Thanks ma’am.”
“No problem,” she says. She turns away from Bellatrix, glancing at the rest of the class.
“But it’s never said she’s a lesbian,” Rodolphus replies. “I believe the ending is good. Jo believed she wouldn’t find love, and she found it in the professor.”
“The professor can suck my dick,” Bellatrix leans forward. The class breaks out into cackles. “The author was a lesbian, and Jo was based off her.”
“Enough. Thank you, Bellatrix, and Rodolphus. You both have valid points. Personally, I do like Bellatrix’s approach to this,” Minerva says. She turns to the rest of the class. “It’s very important to understand the character you are playing. To know what their morals are, to know their thoughts, to really know them.”
“And if we’re playing someone like the murderers in Criminal Minds?” A voice says from across the room. Rabastan smirks. “Do we have to understand them?”
Minerva hesitates. “Yes—however, it’s important to keep a hold on reality. It’s important to know the difference between fiction and reality.”
“Wouldn’t want a Richard situation,” Barty Crouch Jr laughs to himself, but he says it loud enough so the rest of the class can hear; Minerva encourages this—freedom of speech; as long as it isn't hateful.
Her face relaxes, aware of the book he’s talking about. “If We Were Villains reference. Clever. I’d honestly like to see you play the role of Amy.” Snickers from across the room, including James and Marlene. “Don’t laugh. She’s a morally grey character. She’s a good person, and she’s done bad things. Barty could do a lot with it. If you aren’t able to get into character, simply because of their gender, are you really an actor?”
The laughs immediately stop. Barty nods at her, gratefully.
“Exactly.”
Everyone murmurs to each other.
“God, I love her,” Marlene whispers, letting her chin rest on James’ shoulder. James agrees with her, messing up Marlene’s hair.
“Go on, then,” Minerva orders.
“Oi, we have to do Laurie’s confession to Jo,” James tells her as they seperate from the rest of the group. It was really a no-brainer; they are always to be partners. He sighs, getting into character. “I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, Jo. I couldn’t help it.”
“Hm, keep going. I know you have this speech in your head all the time,” Marlene smirks. James smiles at her, and immediately continues.
“I’ve tried to show you, and you wouldn’t let me. But I’m going to make you hear now, because I cannot keep going on like this any longer,” James announces. It’s really scary how he has an on and off button. How he can be Laurie, and switch to James in a second. But as Marlene listens to him continue, every single word proves that he’s as much Laurie as he is himself.
“Very good, James,” Minerva nods. Marlene turns to him, watching him with pride. She’s sure he is the only person who deserves compliments; by the way his face lights up; the way he engages and listens. “You’re putting your emotions into your acting, and that is what makes it so powerful. Because it’s authentic. Now, Marlene, can you show me something?”
“Oh,” she tucks her hair behind her ears, blinking slowly. She sighs, and she thinks—women and men. Sexuality. And she opens her eyes. “Can you say the line, though I’m not half good enough?”
“Though I’m not half good enough—“ James says, but is quickly interrupted by Marlene by design.
“No. Yes—yes you are. You’re a great deal, too good for me, and I’m so grateful to you, and proud of you, but I just—I don’t see why but—I can’t love you—as you want me to.”
“Continue, James,” Minerva’s eyes fall back to him.
“You—you can’t?”
“No, I can’t, and it would be a lie to say that I do when I don’t. I’m so sorry, Teddy. I’m so sorry, but I can’t.”
James appears wounded. It isn’t James; it’s Laurie, and she’s Jo. She can’t give Laurie the love he so desperately craves. She blinks as he takes a small step back.
“I can’t love anyone else, Jo,” he says. “It’s only you.”
She sighs loudly. “It would be a disaster if we were to marry. We would be miserable! We both have such quick temper—“
“— If you loved me, Jo, I would be a perfect saint!”
“I can’t. I’ve tried, and failed.”
James breathes out heavily; sharp, desperate and full of rage. All of it is for show, but Marlene wonders if this is really any more. She is a lesbian who craves to love men, and he is a man who looks for love wherever he can; even if he has to beg.
“Everyone expects it! Grandpa, and your family. Jo—say you will and let’s be happy!” He gets up close to her face, but she can’t help but step back from him. She isn’t looking at his eyes anymore; whoever she is currently, that person doesn’t have it in them.
“I can’t say yes truly, so I will not say it at all.”
Silence between the two of them.
“You’ll see that I’m right eventually, and you’ll thank me for it,” she adds.
“I’ll be hanged if I do!” James raises his voice, and his bottom lip quivers. He steps back when Marlene speaks again.
“You'll find some lovely accomplished girl, who will adore you, and make a fine mistress for your fine house. I wouldn't. I'm homely and—and awkward and odd and you'd be ashamed of me and we would quarrel. We can't help it even now!” She gestures to the two of them. He sucks in the sides of his cheek. “I'd hate elegant society and you'd hate my scribbling and we would be unhappy and wish we hadn't done it and everything will be horrid.”
James nods, his eyes fluttering closed. He lifts his head, opening his eyes only when she’s in his proper eye line. “Anything more?”
“Nothing more, except—except that I don’t think I will ever marry… I’m happy as I am, and love my liberty and freedom too well to give it up so soon.”
He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes. Marlene winces; unnatural. James being sad is just unnatural. “I think you’re wrong, Jo. I think you will find somebody, care for them and love them tremendously, live and die for them. I know you will. And I—I’ll watch.”
Marlene hesitates. “No… Teddy,” she says, feeling a weight in her chest as she speaks these words. She feels a real loss. And she hears a round of applause, her eyes finding Bellatrix nodding with a smirk, and Rosmerta Lestrange jumps up and down beside her.
“You two,” Minerva says dryly. Then she smiles. “You two are absolutely brilliant. James, I know you’re an emotional person. You channel what you feel into your acting, and that is brilliant. Marlene, you have just exceeded my expectations. I could tell what you were feeling was real, and I’m just—I’m incredibly proud of both of you.”
Marlene blushes, glancing at James. Minerva gives one last nod of approval, and walks off. Her smile drops, thinking about her brother; she’s only good because her brother. If Damian wasn’t her brother, she wouldn’t be good.
“You’re really talented, Marlene,” James tells her. She looks towards him, mouthing a thanks. “I mean really, you’re talented. It has nothing to do with your brother, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Marlene sighs. “Thank you, James.”
“Anytime,” he leans forward, swinging his arm around her.
*
Marlene looks around the store, her hands pushing past the gowns. Lily pulls one out, an ugly sort of magenta dress. She holds it up with a hopeful smile; Lily doesn’t really care if she finds a dress she likes, she wants to get out of here.
“I’ve never liked dresses, McKinnon. Seriously. They’re itchy, and uncomfortable.”
“I have a friend in art. I could ask her to make you a dress; she’s really good,” Marlene smiles with an awkward, hopeful grin.
Lily breathes out, raising her eyebrow. “Who?”
“Dorcas Meadowes,” Marlene tells her. The other girl gapes at her, staring as if she’s seen a ghost. Marlene knows why, but she’s losing hope, and she’s been determined to get Dorcas and Lily together.
“I can’t believe you would even suggest that,” Lily scowls, her face appearing as if there’s something gross on her tongue. “You know I don’t like her, Marls.”
“I dated her. She’s really not that bad,” Marlene says, folding her arms. “She’s talented, and generous. C’mon, give her a chance.”
“No,” Lily grumbles. “Never.”
They continue to walk across the store, and Lily stops quickly. Marlene’s stomach digs into her stomach as they stop together. She scowls, shrugging her shoulders.
“Let’s go in suits,” Lily turns around, a huge, relieved grin on her face. “We’ll get it tailored, and instead of a button up shirt, we can do a corset.”
Marlene sighs, closing her eyes slowly. “You are an artist, Miss Evans,” she grins. “You are a genius.”
Lily bows instead of curtsying. “Why, thank you. I’m going to go tell that man. Wait here.”
“Okay,” Marlene nods, looking away. She turns, and to her delight, she finds the girl that has been on her mind since she laid eyes on her. She shoves her hands in pockets again; she gets nervous. “Macdonald, fancy meeting you here.”
“Ah, you're stalking me, Marlene?” Mary smirks. Marlene laughs, shaking her head; she’s weak. The way Marlene’s name sounds on her tongue. She pushes her hands further into her pockets, leaning forward. Mary rips her eyes away, and continues to walk down the aisle. Marlene follows her.
“I think this would bring out your eyes,” Marlene pulls a dress out, showing a dark green, glittery dress; it’s honestly beautiful. It would suit Mary.
“What? My dark brown eyes. Basically black,” she drawls quietly.
“Hey, I quite like your eyes, Mary,” Marlene drops the side of her head to her shoulder. She scrunches her nose, walking past Mary; it had been Mary walking away the past few times, it’s Marlene’s turn. “What’s your favourite colour?”
“It’s basic,” Mary says. “Pink.”
“This dress,” Marlene pulls out, but cringes when she finds the actual dress is ugly. Mary laughs, snorting.
“Oh, you really have an eye for beauty, Marlene,” Mary scoffs, with another snort. Marlene smiles, planning on storing that moment in her mind for the rest of her life. The first time she’s ever made Mary laugh properly.
“I mean, I think I do,” Marlene stares at her. Her shoulders roll forward, leaning closer to Mary’s face subtly. She shakes her head, pushing Marlene’s shoulder gently.
“You’re an idiot,” she says. She looks away at the dresses. “I think a suit would suit you.” Mary cringes, scrunching up her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “That’s awful.”
“You make dad jokes. My kind of woman,” Marlene coos. Mary rolls her eyes.
“So are there like dates at the parties, or is it just a thing people go to?” She asks, chewing on her bottom lip as she spots a dress on the rack. She likes it; she raises her eyebrows, and rushes closer to it. She tries to conceal her excitement; Marlene still sees it.
“Hm, some people bring dates, others go by themselves,” Marlene says. “Some people take their friends with them. Lily, the girl at the cash register right now, she and I are going together.”
“Oh,” Mary murmurs, her smile fading softly. “That’s fun.”
“Hello,” Lily interjects, hesitantly. “You’re Mary, right? I’m Lily. I heard you’re really talented. Hey, you should totally come to the winter dance with us. Marlene and I are going together. As friends. I think James is going to book a limousine. His parents are loaded.”
“Hi Lily,” Mary finally says. Lily smiles.
“Sorry for ranting,” she tells her.
“No, that’s okay. I do the same,” she chuckles.
“In that case, come to the dance with Marls and I,” Lily winks. “Also James is bringing Regulus, his almost boyfriend. And Sirius and Remus are coming.”
“Sirius and Remus are dating, right?” Mary asks, going on her tiptoes to reach the coat hanger of the higher rack. Marlene grabs it, smirking as she holds it out for her. Mary snaps her head away.
Lily and Marlene exchange a look, laughing.
“Something like that,” Marlene shrugs with a chuckle.
“Also, we’re supposed to be going to the back to get the measurements,” Lily points back, stepping back slowly.
“Can I come with you?” Mary grins awkwardly.
“Of course you can, love,” Lily pulls Marlene and Mary along with her. Marlene laughs, and Lily lifts herself so her arms are around the both of them. “So Mary, how do you feel about moving?”
“Oh, I am happy to be here,” Mary says earnestly. Marlene catches her eye; the two stare at each other, before one speaks.
“What is it? A two hour drive from home?” Marlene asks. “Or did you move close to here?”
“Honestly, I wanted to move away from all of it,” Mary admits. “I’m renting out an apartment. Ten minutes walk away from the school, and just up the road from here.”
“Oh, that’s so convenient,” Marlene raises her eyebrows, leaning back as Lily gets measured. She glances at her, with her arms out so she looks like a T. “Is it nice?”
“I think it is,” Mary states. “Maybe I can show you later.”
“I’m free tonight,” Marlene folds her leg over her other one. She lazily tilts her head back to look at Mary, who has her legs crossed; her foot points to Marlene. “Plus I met Lily here, so she’s driving home, and I have my car, too.”
“Cute,” Mary says. “What car?”
“Oh, are you a car person?” Marlene raises her eyebrows. Although she’s deflecting; she doesn’t know much about cars.
“No,” Mary laughs. “I was just going to nod and smile and act as if I have a clue what you’re talking about.”
Marlene’s face breaks into a smile. “That’s cute,” she says. Mary nudges her leg, rolling her eyes. “It’s a porsche. That’s about as much as I know.”
“Ah, okay, rich girl,” Mary winks.
“My brother’s money,” she corrects, holding up a finger. “I think he feels bad for not giving a shit about us, so just get her a car.”
“Ah, I feel that,” Mary replies with a nod. “My sister cares. She calls me almost every day. She’s twenty three, so she’s five years older, and when I was fifteen, she’d call me at the shittiest times because of time differences when she was touring in different countries. But I’m proud of her. But my brother. He couldn’t care less. And I’m very sorry for ranting.”
“Nah, you’re fine,” Marlene waves her hand, grinning. Lily is flirting with the tailor; the female tailor that entered the room a couple of minutes ago. Marlene shakes her head with a laugh. “So besides the distance, are you close to her—your sister?”
“I mean, yeah, I think so,” Mary smiles. “Are you close to either of yours?”
“William. He’s two years older than me, so we were always close growing up,” Marlene says. “Damian was too busy with his acting, but Will actually gives a shit.”
“That’s good about William,” she murmurs. “You deserve that.”
Lily drops into the couch. “Guess who’s here,” she mumbles. And Marlene’s expectation shows up almost right in front of them. The girl Lily had been flirting with is now all over Dorcas Meadowes. “She just waltzes in, and all the attention is on her. I hate her.”
“What’d she do?” Mary asks. Marlene shakes her head, telling Mary to be quiet before Lily goes on a huge rant about nothing, really.
“She’s—she’s—well she—she’s just incredibly irritating, okay?” Lily grunts. Mary throws her arms up, her eyes widening. “Sorry for snapping.”
Mary smiles. “Don’t apologise,” she leans over, and rubs Lily’s knee softly. Lily blushes, and tears her eyes away. Marlene’s heart sinks; she knows that look. “It’s your turn, Marlene.”
“Yes it is,” she sighs, lifting herself from the couch. She stands on the platform, arms out. She watches Lily turn away from Mary. Dorcas shows up below her. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here, McKinnon,” Dorcas replies. “Why? Did Evans have something to say about it?”
“You could say that,” Marlene chuckles. Dorcas scoffs with the roll of her eyes. She shakes her head, and begins the measurements. However she doesn’t need to measure her. After the time they spent together, Marlene knows every single inch of Dorcas’ body; Marlene doesn’t see why Dorcas wouldn’t know Marlene’s.
“Talking about me, Meadowes?” Lily folds her leg over her other, raising her eyebrows at Dorcas. “Marlene might be okay with you, but I’m not.”
“Aw, because I really care,” Dorcas pouts, turning away from Marlene for a moment. Lily glares.
*
“Okay, get ready,” Mary announces. Marlene nods, with her hands on her hips. She sighs, twisting her keys around in the lock. She pushes the door open, and presents the doorway by lifting her hands up. She slightly bows, allowing Marlene through the door first. “Home sweet home.”
Marlene steps inside, hands stuffed in her pockets. Mary flicks on the light, and it reveals everything. She observes the room; a maximalist that one is. Marlene turns around back to Mary, nodding approvingly.
“It’s a bit much,” Mary chuckles anxiously, dropping the flat keys onto the table beside the door. She walks down the hall, waving her hand to tell Marlene to follow her.
“I think it’s perfect,” Marlene’s eyes settle on Mary after wandering across the walls; photos of her, her brother, and her sister. Some are dance photos from when she was young.
“I’m not sure about that,” she hums. Marlene shakes her head, continuing to walk with her hands in her pockets. She points down the hall. “So there is just my kitchen, and down here is my living room. These two doors are my room and my dance studio. I think I spend most of my time in the dance studio—this door is my bathroom door which also connects to my room.”
“This is cute. Why were you talking down on it?”
“It’s better to talk down on things. I feel like that way people won’t think I’m stupid for liking something.”
Marlene frowns. “I could never think you were stupid, Mary.”
Mary bites her bottom lip as she blushes. Marlene watches her carefully; desperately hoping this could be the sight she lays her eyes on for the rest of her life. “Thank you, Marlene.”
“Always.”
*
Marlene leans against the college gate, standing next to Sirius as they smoke. Sirius blows smoke out of her mouth, tilting her head back as he does so. Remus shows up a few moments later.
“Give me some,” Remus grabs Sirius’ waist, pulling her closer. Sirius lifts the cigarette to her lips, and blows into Remus’ mouth. Marlene smiles at them. Remus grabs the back of Sirius’ neck, kissing her cheek. He stumbles, pressing his own back against the gate. “Hey Marls.”
“Hey,” Marlene smirks. “Made it official yet?”
“Made what official?” Sirius winks; her hand slides up Remus’ back, holding out the cigarette for him. Marlene shakes her head, rolling her eyes.
Hestia stumbles to them, folding her arms. “Please,” she says, and Marlene holds out the cigarette box. She raises her eyebrows. “Fabian. He’s talking to a girl over there. Look how close they are.”
Sirius scoffs. “Please. That man does not care about anyone except you. It’s kind of cute actually,” she tilts her head.
“Oi,” Remus smirks. Sirius’ face breaks out into a grin, and she pushes herself even closer to him. “Not cheating on me, are you?”
“Never,” Sirius coos.
James walks with his hands in his pockets; Regulus on one side of him, walking in silence with a book in his hand, whilst Peter is engaged in a conversation with James.
“So are you dating or not?” Hestia asks desperately; nobody knows.
“We’ve given up on asking,” Peter mumbles, his back falling to the fence. James chews on his bottom lip, holding a hand in front of Regulus to let him know he can stop talking.
Marlene laughs. “They’re dating. Even if they know it or not.”
“And what about you, Marlene?” A new voice says. Emmeline Vance. She waves to the rest of them, whilst Hestia rushes over to rest her arm around her. “Where’s your girlfriend? Y’know Mary—the new one.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Marlene blushes, crossing her arms. She turns away from the rest of the group, the cigarette dangling between her lips.
“Hey Jones,” Fabian says from behind Marlene. Marlene spins around to find Hestia’s pink cheeks, attempting to suppress her grin. “How is the prettiest person on campus today?”
“I don’t know,” Hestia murmurs. She lifts her eyes to him. “How are you?”
He gapes. “What?”
“You asked how the prettiest person is, so I’m asking him,” Hestia nods. The rest of the group chuckle around the two of them. Fabian is flabbergasted and Hestia is enjoying how surprised he is.
“You think I’m pretty?” Fabian attempts to regain his composure and smile, but his breath falters, and his lips tremble slightly. Remus laughs, and Sirius slaps his arm softly.
“Sure,” Hestia says to him. He chuckles to himself. She sighs, dropping her head to her shoulder. She smiles, waving. “Okay, bye, Fabian.”
“Bye,” he sighs breathily. Emmeline laughs. She shakes her head, entertained by the entire thing. She waves to the group, and pulls him along with her.
“What happened to Emma?” Remus asks Hestia. Hestia glares at him, lightheartedly. However there is still tension between them. They dated in high school; it’s never been the same.
“Nothing,” Hestia scowls, folding her arms. “We agreed we were better off as friends. Like months ago. Why is it any of your business?”
“It’s not,” Remus replies, smirking. She hesitates for a moment before deciding to leave to go with Fabian and Emmeline. Sirius chuckles. Remus nudges her, stretching his arm out. He gently rests it on her shoulders.
Marlene is quickly distracted by Lily and Mary Macdonald walking into school. Mary’s bag slowly slides down her shoulder every couple of seconds, to which she does a small hop to lift it back up. She holds her phone in her hand, slightly rolling her head around; she’s seen her brother do this—marking her dance.
Although, there is some sort of tension between Lily and Mary; Marlene can’t place her finger on what it is.They mumble stuff to each other, but Mary attempts to push most of her attention onto her phone.
Marlene says goodbye to the rest of them, and runs up to the two girls. Lily grins the moment she sees Marlene, and swings her arm around her to hug her. Marlene messes up her hair jokingly.
“Hello Mary,” Marlene winks.
“Hi,” Mary replies, smiling at her sweetly.