Your Laugh Like Flowers

Marlene was at the breakfast table, alone. She’d even managed to beat James there, slipping quickly out of her dormitory without waking the others. 

Last night, she’d crept back in just before Mary and Lily had returned, Sash’s curtains thankfully already drawn. She’d gone to bed as if nothing had happened; it had only been a slip, after all. A good example of how exhaustion could turn over her emotions with the ease of flipping a coin. 

Needless to say, it wouldn’t happen again. 

Shoving bacon in her mouth, she studied her timetable. McGonagall had just made her rounds to the early risers already sitting at the Gryffindor table, handing out pieces of parchment scrawled with their new schedules. 

It was Potions first thing with the Slytherins (joy of joys), but she had a good hour and a half until then. She looked outside, and the clear, blue morning gave her an idea.

“Alright McKinnon?” James flopped down next to her, followed by Remus, who immediately reached for the hash browns. She couldn’t blame him. There was something about Hogwarts hash browns that was impossible to resist.

“Alright,” she replied. “I’m thinking of going for a quick fly before lessons. Fancy it?”

“'Course. Even need to ask?” He grinned, beginning to shove buttered toast into a napkin. 

“Remus?” she questioned.

He gave her a look. “Even need to ask?” 

“One day you’ll discover the joys of flying, Moony,” James assured him. 

“That unwavering optimism of yours is truly astounding.” Remus reached for the sausages. “I think I’ll nip to the library. Something I wanted to have a quick look at.”

Marlene shrugged, but wasn’t surprised. “Fair enough. What are you checking?”

“Oh, just something I was thinking about last night,” he murmured vaguely, his eyes taking on a faraway look. He stared deeply into his breakfast like he was seeing something else entirely. 

James waved a hand in front of his face. “Moony? Earth to Moony.”

Remus swatted his hand away. “Yes, yes.” He paused. Marlene thought she could see his mind wander away from the conversation. “Maybe not.”

Marlene and James shared a look, holding in laughs. Remus could get lost in thought as easily as he could eat two full plates of breakfast in under seven minutes. She’d timed him once. 

“Good luck, Moony.” James patted his shoulder and him and Marlene left him pondering who knew what over his hash browns. If Marlene was right, it was probably something to do with a prank, and if you knew Remus, you knew not to interrupt his mastermind brainstorming sessions. Especially when he was eating. 

They met no one on their way through the grounds, the dew still dampening the grass underfoot, the sun still low in the east. 

“So, you’ll never guess what I overheard last night,” James was saying, excitement spilling into his voice.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Oh yes.” He was almost skipping. “You’ll never believe me.”

“I won’t believe anything if you don’t tell me.” She poked him. 

His eyes were positively sparkling, as he blurted, “The teachers have a secret betting pool!” 

He laughed immediately afterward, as though he couldn’t believe it himself. 

“I’m going to need you to elaborate,” Marlene said.

“Okay, so last night after you and Remus left, we sort of stayed in the Great Hall for a while, just chatting, you know,” he began, talking at a thousand miles an hour. “And last summer, Sirius and I got bored and started trying to develop these…” He dug around in his pocket, and whipped out a pocket-sized ear. Hang on, that couldn’t be right. Marlene took a closer look. Oh. No, that was definitely an ear. 

“Dear God. What is that?” she interjected. Some things needed clear clarification. 

“A sound amplifier! Here, take it.” He thrust it in her hands and sprinted away. 

“What are you doing?” she called. 

“Just wait!” he yelled back. “Okay, now point it at me, use your wand, and whisper, Audi remonstrare.” 

“What?” she shouted. 

“ Audi remonstrare!” 

Well then. She pointed her wand at the miniature ear in her hand, which was oddly warm, and whispered the words, beginning to think James Potter had actually gone mad this time, as she watched him start muttering to himself. 

Just when she was about to give up and tell James he was a knob, his voice appeared right next to her. No, not next to her: it was coming from the ear in her hand. She watched as James moved his lips in the distance, way too far away to make out what he was saying, but still hearing his voice as clear as day through the magical device before her. 

James and Sirius were beautiful, crazy geeks , and not many people knew it. 

“ So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me? S.O.S. The love you gave me, nothing else can save me - ” James’s voice was saying through the ear, in a dramatic rendition of a song she knew too well. 

“I KNEW IT!” she yelled as she sprinted to James. “You’re a secret Abba fan!” 

“No idea what you’re talking about!” James threw up his hands, but a huge grin split across his face. “Did you like it?”

“The song? Absolutely. I think you could’ve added in a bit more flair at the S.O.S bit, though.”

“McKinnon, you are the worst. I've just revealed my most treasured secret to you, and this is what I get? Notes?”

“You can always count on me, Potter.” She held out the ear. “But seriously, James, this is amazing. How on earth did you figure it out? I mean, really, how does it recognise exactly what you want it to hear? What about interference? Does it work long distance?”

“Ah. We’re still working on the distance part,” he admitted, but she could tell he was pleased. 

“You’re a right weirdo,” she said fondly. 

“Genius,” he corrected. “It’s okay, I know that’s what you meant.” 

“Shove off, weirdo.” 

“Genius.”

“Thank you.”

He scruffed her hair in retaliation.

“Hang on, we didn’t get to the betting pool bit yet,” she remembered, as they reached the Quidditch pitch.

James’s grin returned in full force. “Well, we used the ear on the teachers, of course. And Dumbledore was saying, loud as you like, ‘I place my galleons on Gryffindor winning the Quidditch cup this year. James Potter as their captain will lead them to a sure victory!’” he declared, deepening his voice in a truly awful impression of Dumbledore. 

“Yes, very convincing,” Marlene agreed. 

“Okay, so it was more like, ‘I have my eye on McKinnon robbing the trophy this year. An excellent beater, just excellent. Could do with some more manners, I dare say.’”

“ James!”

“You get the gist! What I’m trying to say is, Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore, partakes in underground betting rings, and announced to all the staff table that he thinks Gryffindor will win the Quidditch Cup. And we’re going to spread the word, and prove him right.” 

When James got behind a cause, there was absolutely no stopping him. She resigned herself to not hearing the end of this until the Cup was safely in their hands. 

“I’m somehow… not that surprised. About the Dumbledore thing, I mean.” 

“You’re right. McGonagall was the real shocker.” James nodded.

“Was Slughorn in on it?” 

“Oh, yeah. He put a twenty on Slytherin. It’ll be a shame for him when they lose,” he said, not sounding very pitying. His eyes were alight. “You know what this means, though? This year, we’re going to have to train like our lives depend on it. Get on the brooms as soon as possible,” he finished, proudly, adapting Lily’s phrase from last night. 

“Well, looks like I've beat you to that one.” Marlene’s broom, a spare one she kept in the school’s cupboard, whizzed into her hand. She’d been practising silent summoning spells ever since she’d turned seventeen that summer. 

She hopped on and stuffed her wand away in one motion, flipping James off as she soared higher, a laugh swallowed by the wind. 

Up here, the only thing anyone expected of her was something she could actually do, and she revelled in the feeling. The wind was no match for her; leaning forward, she sped past the goalposts and pulled into a sharp one-eighty turn, keeping her balance with little difficulty - the result of countless drills run by Potter in the past. 

He was in the air with her in a matter of seconds. “I’ll get you back for that!” he yelled. 

Racing each other, all that could be heard was the sounds of their cackles fading into the cool air, unbothered and unworried where they flew. 

——————————-

Two hours later, Marlene was losing her mind. It was disintegrating, that was it, as she stared into her potion, unseeing. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d somehow created toxic fumes that were putting her mind to sleep as she stood, head tilted over the cauldron. 

It was black. Just pure black. The only reason she even knew there was liquid in there was because she could see a faint reflection of her own face staring back at her, eyes slightly unfocused. Dotted around her in the liquid were small, flickering blots that had to be the reflection of the candles. Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead hang stars like seeds of light in vain, she thought, mindlessly. Another poem she couldn’t remember much else of. 

Where had she gone wrong? That really was the question, she mused, almost giggling stupidly. Bloody hell, maybe she had created poisonous fumes…

“McKinnon?” Slughorn’s voice at her shoulder. “Oh, dear heavens. Will somebody please take her to Madame Pomfrey? I’m afraid we have a case of the Daylight Drowsiness, as they call it. If you could, Miss Meadowes, thank you.” He sighed and waddled away, muttering something like, “There’s always one. What did I say about using too much agrimonia?” 

Marlene wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. Daylight Drowsiness? She could use a nap, now that she thought of it. She was still bent over the cauldron, whose contents now appeared a lot closer than they had a moment before. She really did giggle then at the thought of her falling in headfirst. 

She just needed to close her eyes, for one moment, perhaps… 

A hand took hers in a firm grip, tugging her upright and away from her potion. Marlene blinked as she looked at its owner. The first thing she noticed was her eyes, which were glaring at her. Before she could even think to be offended by this Slytherin she barely recognised looking like she wanted to shove her in the cauldron, Marlene felt all of a sudden quite lightheaded. 

Am I drunk? she wondered. 

“No, but Merlin knows how much bloody agrimonia you added to your potion,” the girl grumbled. Marlene registered she’d dropped her hand, and then realised that she’d spoken out loud. 

“Oh. Well, it sort of feels like it.” She laughed, unexpectedly. If feeling drunk was this cheap, she would’ve stopped buying bottles of firewhisky ages ago. 

“Do you always feel drunk when you’re tired? Come on, hospital wing’s this way.” She steered Marlene to the door, still looking pretty annoyed about the whole damn thing. 

“Well.” Marlene paused to yawn, “Usually I fall asleep right after, so I suppose I wouldn’t know.” She smiled sleepily at the girl, expecting her to agree. 

She only shook her head and carried on pulling Marlene along by her shoulder. “Bloody Gryffindors, think they’re really funny,” she muttered to herself. 

“Bloody Slytherins, always so rude.” Marlene did a pretty enthusiastic imitation of her grumbling tone. The girl just glared at her again. “I’m Marlene.”

“No, you’re an idiot .” 

“You know I can hear you when you say things under your breath.” Marlene stifled another yawn. She fought to keep her eyes open as her limbs started to feel like they weighed an extra five pounds each. 

“Yeah, but you’re not gonna remember this in about an hour, so what’s the difference?” She smiled for the first time, but there was annoyance plastered all over it. 

“Are you always this irritated with everyone?” 

“Not everyone, just the people who mess up my potions.” She yanked her hand in front of Marlene, which brought her to a stop right in front of the hospital wing’s double doors. Marlene had been studying her so intently (or trying to, in between blinking away sleep), that she hadn’t even seen them appear. 

“This is your stop,” she said, as if Marlene was daft. 

“Yeah, thank you.” Marlene hadn’t meant for it to sound so sincere. She rubbed her eyes. “I mean, thank you,” she tried again, this time with more sarcasm. 

The girl heaved a sigh, and opened the door. “Madame Pomfrey? I've got a patient for you. She inhaled bad fumes of the Draught of Living Death potion. Too much agrimonia.” 

The end of her sentence was chased by an oncoming darkness clouding her vision. She opened her eyes and realised with a start that she was no longer upright, but rather lying on one of the hospital beds. She couldn’t help but giggle at this, sleepily. Pomfrey and the mystery girl stood over her, looking unconcerned. 

“Nothing to do but sleep it off, I’m afraid,” Madame Pomfrey said, already bustling away to see to other patients. “Thank you, Miss Meadowes. You may return to your lesson.”

“Or what’s left of it.” She sighed, turning to go. 

“Wait,” Marlene called, drowsiness pulling her down into the pillows. “Don't I even get to know your name?” 

The girl must have taken pity on her, because with another eye roll, she turned back to Marlene. “It’s Dorcas. Dorcas Meadowes.” 

“Thank you, Dorcas,” Marlene murmured, and then promptly fell asleep. 

She woke up in broad daylight, wondering where on earth she was. 

“She’s awake!” Mary announced. She leant her head on her hand, and told her, “You’re the luckiest dickhead in the world, McKinnon. Missing Potions because you got high on fumes? Fucking brilliant.”

“She’s right, I could take a leaf out of your book,” Remus observed. “Never thought I’d say this, but I’m having regrets about dropping it.”

Marlene put her head in her hands. “Oh god. Oh god, I don’t remember a thing.” It was true. When she tried to recall anything from the last few hours, the best she came up with was an image of her own reflection staring back at her from the depths of a potion, followed by a hazy blur of drowsiness, and then sleep. 

Lily patted her shoulder. It was just the four of them on and about the bed, the rest of the wing almost empty. She’d only been here a few times before, and never for long, but she’d always appreciated the way the light filtered softly through the windows. It was never too bright whichever way you looked. It was the feeling of cool balm on hot skin, being here. 

Madame Pomfrey strolled over, hair as usual tucked away, eyes astute and manner brisk. Somehow, it was comforting. “If you’re feeling alright, you may go, Miss McKinnon. You will be quite bone-weary for the rest of the day, I suspect. It will teach you to not be so careless with your agrimonia,” she reprimanded her, not unkindly. 

At the word ‘agrimonia’, Marlene thought she sensed a feeling tug in her stomach; the feeling of not remembering something she ought to. She turned to Lily after she’d thanked Madame Pomfrey, and they were making their way out. 

“I don’t remember getting to the hospital wing at all,” she said. “You didn’t take me, did you?” 

“I’m sorry, Marls, but I’m going to be honest: I didn’t even realise you were gone until the lesson ended. You know what it’s like, when it’s going so well, and you’re just completely absorbed…” 

Marlene didn’t really know the feeling, but said anyway, “No, you’re right. It’ll come back to me. Bloody Slughorn, making us brew Draught of Living Death the first day back.” 

Mary yawned. “God knows I could’ve used a nap like that.”

They wandered into the Great Hall for lunch, Remus’s stomach grumbling so loudly she had to pause and ask him if he’d even had breakfast. 

He looked at her strangely. “Marls, what on earth do you mean? You were there.” He knocked on her head. “Everything alright up there?” 

She sighed. He was right; she remembered now sitting with him and James, before they’d gone flying. “Today’s impromptu nap may have gotten to me more than I thought.” Her legs already felt heavy just from the walk to the Great Hall. “Oh, did you find what you were looking for in the library?” 

“Not quite.” They sat down next to the others. Peter, James and Sirius were already finishing up. “It might be a bit more complicated than I thought.”

She leaned in. “It’s for a prank, isn’t it?” 

He smiled with a corner of his mouth, not letting anything on. “Maybe.”

“Covert whispering occurring over here, I see,” Sirius plopped himself down next to Remus and across from Marlene, apparently done with his lunch. “How scandalous. Care to share?” 

“We were just talking about Marlene’s morning escapades, actually,” Remus said, shooting a discreet wink her way. “She got high in Potions, and got a cosy trip to the hospital wing instead of a detention.” 

“Reveal to us your ways, McKinnon,” Sirius begged, sighing. “I’m beginning to think smoking spliffs might be bad for me, or something.” 

“You don’t say.”

“Imagine that.”

Sirius pulled a book from his bag and thwacked both of them on the heads. 

“Petition to ban Moony and McKinnon from ever interacting, ever again?” he called out to their little area. 

Five hands went up, as well as a few hands from nearby groups that had overhead Sirius. 

“See? This is why you shouldn’t be sarcastic. People will hate you for it,” Sirius said. 

“I can assure you, I’m always being one hundred percent serious,” Marlene said. 

She realised her mistake all too late. 

“Don’t say it. Don’t you say it, Black.” She covered her ears. 

He plastered a shit-eating grin on his face. “ No, McKinnon. I’m Sirius!” 

People groaned and grumbled. Money was exchanged within their group. Sirius sighed happily. 

“One day. We made it one day,” Lily was muttering, stabbing her chicken. 

———————

The rest of the week passed without incident. Well, expect from the Marauders’ ‘Welcome back, everyone!’ prank, which involved a few bashed up broomsticks, a very stern-faced Professor McGonagall (Marlene suspected she loved it really) and a trio of different sized pawprints dotted around the castle. She didn’t want to get into the details. 

As for Sash, she was as evasive as ever, never sticking around in one place long enough to be approached by any of them, but most of all Marlene. Marlene had hidden away her book of poetry without opening it once. She didn’t like to look at it and think of Sash. 

It was fine with her, if she wanted to avoid everyone. She was doing a bloody good job of it, too; the most Marlene saw of her in the dorm was a few strands of her hair dotted about the bathroom. 

James was still chattering about Dumbledore’s bet to anyone who would listen. 

On Saturday, she and Mary were coming back to the common room after a quick excursion to the kitchens, arms stocked with little cakes and eclairs. Marlene’s appetite was ruthless. 

Marlene had been expecting a only few students dotted about that she and Mary could sneak past with their goods easily (technically, the kitchens were off limits, but Peter had told them how to get on the house elves’ good side), but when they stepped inside, what she saw was James Potter standing on a stool, entertaining half the house. 

“So, what are we gonna do? Let Minnie lose her five galleons?” He bellowed. The Gryffindors yelled, No! right back at him. “Are we gonna let the Slytherins win again?” No! “Are we gonna beat their sorry arses back to the dungeons?” 

Yes!

“Brilliant! Tryouts are at 9 o'clock sharp, tomorrow morning. Everyone’s welcome if they’re brave enough to try!”

“Merlin, you make it sound like a fight to the death,” Marlene marvelled as James spotted them and bounded over. The crowd began to disperse. 

“Ah, thanks McDonald. Just what I fancied.” Sirius appeared behind him and nicked an eclair from Mary’s arms. 

“Go steal your own sweets,” Mary said, snatching it back. “I’m not in the mood.” 

“Can’t.” Sirius sighed. “Moony’s the only one with stock left. Last time I tried to take his chocolate, he charmed it to taste like dog food for a week.” 

“Dog food?” Marlene wondered.

Sirius’s face brightened. “It was surprisingly tasty. I don’t think it had the effect he wanted it to.” 

“Sometimes, I wonder if you’re all there.” She peered at him. 

He and James shared a grin. 

“Right, I’m off with the goods before someone ambushes me,” Mary grumbled. 

“I’ll help,” James offered. Mary and Marlene shrugged; she supposed she could do with a laugh. For someone so smart, James really didn’t have any common sense, sometimes. 

“Thanks, Potter.” Marlene dumped her load of cakes in his arms and patted him on the head. She and Sirius stood to watch together. 

Poor James ambled after Mary contentedly, both on their way to the girls’ room, and made it halfway up the staircase. Mary was a step ahead when the stairs beneath James neatly folded themselves up into a smooth, steep ramp. He slipped and slid down the slide, cakes going everywhere, and landed at the bottom with an expression that read, I completely intended for this to happen. 

Marlene and Sirius high-fived. Remus stepped through the portrait hole behind them and took one look at the sorry scene, coming up to stand beside them both. 

“King of mischief, he calls himself.” He shook his head as James stood to take a bow. “I call it admirable delusion.”

———-

“Right, gather around everyone!” James yelled, raising his voice over the chatter of the expectant Gryffindors. They all stood in the centre of the Quidditch pitch, holding various sized brooms and dressed in gold and red robes. Marlene stood amongst them with Sirius, both glaring at everyone who didn’t turn to listen to James. They all did within seconds, of course; Marlene was convinced half of them had only turned up just to get an extra glimpse of him in his Quidditch uniform. Fair enough. 

She glanced at their friends in the stands; Remus with a book; Peter watching avidly; Lily and Mary chatting with an eye on the prospective players. She eyed them up as well, amazed at the turnout. It had been a clever propaganda move of Potter’s, bringing the teachers’ bet into the fray like that. There was nothing like house pride to rouse the Gryffindors into turning up - now he had his pick of over thirty students to make a team. 

He started them off with laps around the pitch. Marlene leaned into the wind with practiced ease, feeling something inside her unravel at the sound of it rushing past her ears. The ground was a blur, her focus solely on performing, on proving she was the perfect pick. 

Later, with the weight of the beater’s bat in her palm, her vision tunnelled into the oncoming bludgers. She swung and channeled every last cinder of anger and frustration floating in her stomach, using it to whack the bludger towards the moving target. She watched with satisfaction as it splintered into a thousand sparks. 

“Nice swing, McKinnon!” 

She looked up to grin at James’s compliment, before her eyes focused on someone behind him, sitting in the stands. It was Sash. Even from this distance, Marlene would recognise her posture anywhere. A dancer’s stance: poised and tensed. On the verge of moving away, always. 

A rush of emotion shivered through her. Ignore her, Marlene thought, reflexively, but her chest felt like it was crushing in on itself. Seeing Sash was a current she couldn’t swim away from. 

What the hell was she even doing here? 

Marlene turned back to the pitch, her heartbeat loud and apparent in her ears. At the last second she registered a bludger spinning towards her, racing so fast she could hear the faint buzz it made in the air from her position atop her broomstick. 

She raised her bat without thinking and hit the bludger so hard she felt the vibration shake her arm. It soared across the pitch and crashed into one of the targets out of pure coincidence, before continuing on its path, almost undeterred by the collision, and rocketed through the wooden base of one of the spectators’ stands. 

Shit. 

It blasted through the infrastructure, leaving a small hole in its wake. 

Marlene looked up to see half the players gawking at her, the other half gawking at the damage the bludger had done. The damage she had done. She couldn’t help it: she turned back to where she’d seen Sash moments before, just to catch the tail end of her robes as she turned the corner into one of the towers that would lead her down the stairs of the stand. 

Marlene hung there on her broom for a second, face burning and pulse racing still, before angling her broom down and leaning into it. She pulled out of the dive at the last moment to leap off, before marching into the changing rooms without looking back. 

She threw open the door and marched the length of it, before turning around and doing the same thing. She stopped and took a deep breath. What was she doing, ruining James’s tryout session like this? And all because Sash had turned up, with her dark hair that just barely grazed her shoulders, her cheekbones and her -

Marlen spun around just to keep moving. She would walk back on to that pitch and be there for James. She could fix this, fix the stands, fix her boots which kept coming loose. She leaned down to tie them again, but her fingers were shaking. 

She stood back up, uncaring, making to walk back into the pitch, but something stopped her. What if going back would only make things worse for James? Or had she completely botched it all up already? 

She opened the door a crack and sneaked a glance outside. James was in his element, commanding players, shouting praise, completely unperturbed. A wave of relief washed over her. The Gryffindors responded to to his every word, diving and chasing and throwing quaffles with purpose. Only a few stragglers hung about chattering, glancing at the broken stands. 

She flopped onto the bench, deciding she would only make things worse by stepping back out. Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot. She lay her head against the wall and closed her eyes. For all she knew, she’d just butchered her chance of making the team. 

“Marlene?” 

Lily and Mary pushed open the side door, heads searching. Marlene knew she couldn’t walk away from this one. She braced herself. 

“Here.” She waved. They turned to face her. Lily flew forward, brow furrowed. Mary was more leisurely, apparently taken aback by the inside of the changing rooms. Her expression was one of horror. At this, Marlene managed a smile. 

“Sorry about that,” she continued. “I think I must have dislocated something with that swing. Came in here to check my bones were intact and all.” 

Lily was unconvinced. “Well? Are they?” 

Marlene sprang up and swung her arms around in windmills. “All good.” She smiled. “But I’m worn out. What do you say we head back up to the castle? I could do with some food.” 

Lily and Mary shared a glance. 

“Look, Marls…” Mary began. 

“I’m fine, really!” Marlene interrupted, insistent. Even as she spoke, she started to believe herself. Just being with her friends, her closest friends, brought her a rush of comfort. 

She didn’t need anyone else. 

They looked at each other again. Marlene made a sound of mock irritation. 

“Guys, I’m being serious. The whole of Hogwarts will hear my stomach rumble if we don’t hurry up. Come on, I’m done with Quidditch for the day.” She turned to go, and to her relief, Mary and Lily both followed. 

“I could do with some snacks, actually.” Lily looped her arm around Marlene’s, tugging them both forward. 

“And I’m going to pass out if I stay in here any longer.” Mary gagged. “The stench is making me lightheaded.” 

Marlene rolled her eyes but let out a laugh, linking her other arm with Mary’s. Together, they made their way back to the castle, the shouts of the Quidditch players fading behind them.