chapter thirty
She’d spent the rest of the semester trying to distract herself from the fact that two boys that she loved for years were almost out of her life now. Maybe it would have been easier if they were completely, but instead, she still saw them eating in the great hall, in every class, passing through the halls and the common room.
She even saw them when they weren’t really there at all. She saw Remus every time she opened an old book, or saw a tall stranger, every time she noticed a scar on someone, and every time she looked at the moon.
She saw Sirius in every long-haired man, in every whiff of smoke, every time her professors warned about casting spells or brewing potions only at specific times because of the effects the stars had, and every time she drank coffee from then on, she prepared it like he did, pretending he was making it for them to share.
Coffee with plenty of cream and a good amount of sweetener was so much more comforting that way.
“Oh, my god.” Tonks’ jaw dropped as Marigold finished her story.
“So, I promise you, Remus has never been in love with me, he’ll never be in love with me, but he just might fall for you!” Marigold sighed, clapping her hands once.
“Godrick,” Molly let out.
“Oh you must’ve heard that story by now, I’m certain!” Marigold turned to the ginger.
“Yeah I had, but you really didn’t hold back on any details this time, I mean you really really explained it!” Molly scoffed.
“What?” Marigold almost laughed, not understanding. Sure, kind of a sad story, but they were so much older now.
“No Marigold, I don’t think you understand,” Tonks spoke again. “Sirius is in love love with you! And you’re just as obsessed with him!”
“Huh? Nooo, he’s a playful flirt, and I’m just sentimental!” She shrugged it off, but the flutter in her heart was undeniable.
“No I’m absolutely certain, I mean, I always suspected Sirius still had lingering feelings for you, but I truly believe he’s never fallen out of love!” Molly supported Tonks.
“Well, he never said it, okay? I met Henry later, and then that situation was ancient history!” Marigold defended.
“Oh yeah, how did you meet Henry?” Tonks’ eyes widened.
“We’re gonna need more candy, my marriage is another long story,” Marigold laughed, pointing at the pile of empty candy wrappers in between them.
“Alright, go ahead, dear,” Molly instructed as she settled back down on the bed, a fresh pile of candy evident. Tonks took a piece and looked at Marigold intently.
Lily and James obviously continued to date the seventh year, they were just mad about each other. Dorcas and Mary were just fine despite the distance, Mary came to Hogsmeade to meet her girlfriend plenty, and Marlene and Peter were doing better than ever.
Only, they could never go on those big group date excursions anymore. Marigold was in denial, pretending nothing was wrong because she didn’t want to put her issues on her best friends.
James and Lily sometimes spent time with her, being extremely sensitive and careful to avoid topics relating to the boys. She’d spend plenty of time with Dorcas when Lily and Marlene had a double date. And Marlene was a great comfort, always glad to talk to her about anything and everything, just to keep her mind busy so it couldn’t stray to the boys.
Remus didn’t really understand. He thought he was doing them all a great favor, but neither of them seemed to take it that way. Marigold seemed to forget of their very existence, but he knew she was hurting.
What he didn’t understand, however, was why the hell Sirius didn’t stand up and fight for her. Instead, he shyly admired from afar, so different from the outgoing affection he’d used to win her over in the first place.
He was downright shy, he really only spent time with the boys in their dorm, or with Remus sometimes when he wanted to help out with a prank but didn’t have it in him to be responsible for it. He didn’t entertain another girl after her, far too devoted to even consider it.
Remus didn’t understand why things had backfired. Sirius wasn’t mad at him, truly, he felt no negative emotion toward his best friend. He knew Remus didn’t have a mean bone in his body, even during that certain time of the month it wasn’t really him.
Sirius knew it was out of love in the end, that Remus broke things off with Marigold. Not love for the girl, but brotherly love for him. He recognized Sirius’ hopes for a concrete future with the girl and did his best to give him the opportunity to receive those. It was selfless, what he did, really.
Sirius made that known of course, to his best friend. He didn’t blame him for Marigold’s reaction, but he also couldn’t find it within himself to approach her. She seemed fine from the outside looking in, always smiling at Dorcas or whispering to Marlene, or laughing with Lily. She spent a lot of time with Alexander and William, not sparing a double take at Sirius and Remus, as if they were mere strangers.
Sirius wasn’t upset with her either, he knew she was just confused and in pain, though he did wish more than anything that it had worked out better. He’d stare at her in classes, in the great hall, silently begging her to look at him, to pay him even a sliver of care.
She remained stoic, trying to protect her heart. She didn’t really know why she was ignoring Sirius when he was so painfully trying to get her attention. Lily had suggested maybe it was something she’d internalized since the very begging. That she wouldn’t want either to feel left out or jealous, so she’d do everything she could to treat them equally.
It wasn’t fair, Sirius had done nothing wrong except hold his tongue, but hadn’t she done the same? By the time Winter Holiday arrived, it was more than anything a feeling of guilt and embarrassment. She was ashamed she had been so selfish, expecting two men to be happy sharing her affection without end. She was so stupid for telling herself she deserved both of their admiration.
Alexander had gone to William’s for the holiday, and Marigold figured she should spend some time in London. Greece had been too recent with the boys, it would only make her miserable. She could handle a couple of weeks with her parents, it was a big city, and she could keep herself entertained.
The first day back she’d spent all day in bed, the curtains drawn and covers pulled over her head anyway. She was sleeping, just self-loathing and unmoving.
On her second day, she forced herself up and out. In a burst of manic energy, she decided to dress up as a different person. Her mother was at work, and her father was napping on the couch already, so she snuck into their closet.
She put on her mother’s old clothes from the 50s and did her makeup the best she could without her friends’ help. She threw her shagged hair up in a bun and found some shoes to go with the costume.
She looked at herself in her mothers’ full body mirror, not entirely disappointed but not proud either. She wore a baby pink cocktail dress, matching gloves, white pumps, and a long fake fur coat to combat London’s winter weather.
The heels took some getting used to, but she wanted to feel like a different person, not the kind of girl who spent an entire day throwing a pity party for herself. She wanted to be chic, interesting, and not pathetic.
She disciplined herself into walking the park near her house, slowly strolling just to eat up some time. Toddlers waddled by with their parents, elderly sat on benches with hot cups of soup, but she didn’t see anyone her own age. Fine by her.
An hour or so later she found herself more wandering about, able to tune out the rest of her world. In this peace, she paid half attention to the distant music playing from somewhere. Men tried to tip their hats to engage in conversation, but she just beamed to herself and kept on her way.
Women complimented her outfit or smiled as they passed, and she was eager to return those sentiments. Point is, she really couldn’t give a shit about any man, she was happy to be alone, to be an individual, simply a stranger on a street corner.
Then, Henry Leopold ruined it. Actually, he saved her life.